Memory: The Intern's Family (4 years previous to story)
Kuma sighed as he bent over and scooped up a trail of clothes. A heat wave had hit Miami and he supposed it was only fair that they weren't wearing necessary clothes. Tossing the armful onto the table, he looked around. Ivan was the only one fully clothed and he was chatting away on the phone to someone in Spanish. When he picked that up, Kuma didn't know, but it seemed to be a personal call.
Matthew was draped over Alfred's lap, glasses perched at the very end of his nose and hair pulled high into a ponytail. It was frizzy at best and just messy at worst. His eyes were half open and his jaw moved lazily with gum. Kuma watched how he trailed idle fingers across the tanner skin of Alfred's shoulder while the field op was playing video games, his tongue sticking out in concentration.
The small intern laught softly as Alfred's score varied based off of just what Matthew was doing. Whenever the finger glided onto Alfred's glossy lower back, the American seemed to get a lower score. Why did they insist they weren't dating or having sex? Their bodies, and minds, told otherwise.
Kuma then turned to the kitchen, but was stopped by a glare from Yao who was making something, probably cookies. He pointed to the laundry and demanded Kuma "see to it." With a clicking sound of his tongue, the Chinese man went back to making the treats. It was a slow, hot day, but only an hour later the five were sitting around the telly, eating cookies with a nice cool glass of milk.
It felt like family.
Memory End