Kentin absently rolled his pencil across the desk as the teacher droned on. His mind was anywhere but there. He was thinking about conventional expected things like his cute boyfriend and what might be on television later, and what route he would take when he went jogging tomorrow morning. He was also thinking about unconventional random things like the way flamingos stood on one leg and how most cylindrical lampshades were ugly, and how gross french fries slathered in strawberry jam must taste.
Such things weren't hard to think about when one was wholly devoid of an engaging focal point.
But class got a lot less boring when Mr. Faraize placed a carton of eggs on the table and announced a class project.
"You're all getting to that age where you're going to have to learn to be responsible. Not just responsible as in taking care of homework and getting your rooms clean, which are both examples of being responsible for yourself, but responsible as in able to nurture a small human being." The nervous teacher adjusted his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and released a tight sigh.
"A boy and a girl will pair up to care for an egg for this week. This project is meant to help you practice parenting, so if the egg is broken by the end of the week, you automatically fail the project. Be diligent about this, it's worth fifty points."
"A week? Won't the egg spoil?" Capucine wrinkled her nose.
"They've all been hardboiled," assured Mr. Farazie.
Alexy was polite enough to raise his hand and wait until Mr. Faraize nodded at him.
"Do I have to pair with a girl?" he asked. "If this is supposed to prepare us for parenting, it'll be wasted practice if I'm partnered with a girl. I don't swing that way."
"I don't want to be partnered with the opposite sex either," Kim chimed in. Though her words were toward the teacher, her grinning eyes pinned a beet-faced Violette.
Mr. Faraize floundered, clearly taken off-guard. "Ah, I see...You two can partner with whoever you want— Or rather, everyone in the class can partner with who they see fit to." The teacher glanced around uneasily.
Charlotte's hand rose in the air.
"Yes?"
"Can we have more than one partner?" she asked flatly.
"Ah...I suppose that's fine too," Mr. Faraize answered tentatively. "The main objective here is to take care of the egg. Do not let your egg break, or crack, or get lost under any circumstances. After finding your partner, you're going to spend the rest of class customizing your egg. I'll take a picture of it before you leave. This way you can't replace the egg with one from the store in the event that it does get damaged."
Kentin thought this was stupid. Well, he supposed learning how to parent wasn't that stupid in itself. But with an egg? Eggs weren't like children. Children cried and ate and crapped. They were living things. However, stupid or not, this was going to be an easy A. All he had to do was put it somewhere cushy for the rest of the week and/or make sure Alexy kept it somewhere cushy too.
His aforementioned boyfriend trotted right over when Mr. Faraize gave the instruction to go find partners and sat on Kentin's desk.
"What do you want to name our child?" he asked, gleeful glimmer in his gaze.
Kentin breathed a sound of mirth. "It doesn't need a name. It's just an egg."
"Aww, c'mon," Alexy chirruped, lightly nudging Kentin's shoulder. "This could be fun!"
Iris interrupted before Kentin could reply, as she was passing out the eggs. Alexy took it and gingerly patted the top of it with his fingertips.
"The pink sticker on the bottom means it's a girl egg," she informed them cheerfully, then continuing on.
"So we have a daughter," Alexy chuckled. "How about we call her Alexandria?"
Kentin scoffed. "A little egotistical there, don't you think?"
"Maybe. But it is a pretty name."
"Fine. We can call it Alexandria." Kentin rolled his eyes.
"Her," corrected Alexy. With that, he left the egg in Kentin's care and hopped off the desk. He retrieved a green marker, a scrap of tangelo fabric and a stick of glue.
Kentin thought the stupidity of this project had reached levels, the fact that Alexy actually wanted to name it and give it pronouns and doodle on it was almost enough to make him cringe. Even so, he must've had some subconscious desire to have fun with the thing because when Alexy handed him the marker, he didn't say, no way, or why, or do it yourself.
He just smirked drily at his own expense and drew two eyes.
"I picked green on purpose," chirped Alexy after the fact, poking his tongue out playfully.
"What? I don't get— Oh. Oh my god." He had green eyes. Alexy wanted the egg to match him. He facepalmed. "You're so ridiculous."
Alexy hummed in either agreement, amusement, or both and proceeded to glue the tangelo fabric around the egg so that it looked like it wore a little shirt. Even Kentin had to admit that it was kind of cute. For an egg anyway.
"Something's still missing," murmured Alexy as he scrutinized their pseudo offspring.
"It doesn't have to look like a work of art, Alexy," replied Kentin. "It just has to look distinct so we can't swap it for another one. Which it does."
"But something is missing," Alexy insisted with a hint of genuine urgency. "Something looks wrong."
Kentin exhaled in minute frustration and studied the egg closely. It had a crisp white shell, as expected. The drawn on eyes were shiny and not quite even, but he had done his best and the little quirk of unevenness was likely to make the egg that much more distinctive. The felt of its 'shirt' had a minuscule ball of lint sticking to it. Nothing was wrong with it.
He opened his mouth to tell so to Alexy when he realized that yes, in fact there was something wrong with it. The realization zapped him like a lightning bolt. He quickly snapped his fingers.
"She needs a mouth!"
"Yes! That's exactly what's missing," vehemently agreed Alexy. "Give her a smile."
So Kentin picked up a pen and scrawled on an elongated 'u' beneath the egg's eyes. It was simple, a little bumpy, didn't even take five seconds. But it looked more complete somehow.
წ
"I can't believe we're doing this," Kentin muttered later in the day when his boyfriend had shown up unannounced with the egg in his pocket and an empty tissue box tucked under his arm.
"It makes sense," insisted Alexy. "She's delicate. She needs to be kept somewhere soft."
"That's as simple as putting her in the corner and just letting her sit for a week. It's not necessary to make her a bed."
Alexy gave Kentin one of his irresistible looks, head tilted just a fraction, cerise pools glinting with expectance, mouth tucked down in pastel mourning, as though you'd just kicked him and made him drop an ice cream cone.
"Fine," Kentin gave in, bending to submission under that stare. He dug through his closet and found an old striped pillowcase that felt downy enough to cushion an egg. After all, his mother used fabric softener on everything. He folded the pillowcase up and gently fitted it into the bottom of the tissue box.
"Happy now?"
"Smooth it out a little more," Alexy requested teasingly.
Kentin scoffed and shoved him away.
Alexy swiveled around on his heels and slid the egg out of his pocket. He charily placed it in its bed and then to Kentin's shock and abashment, took it to his living room and put the television on for it (some kid's channel with a cartoon cuttlefish twirling across the screen).
"Um...Don't you think you're taking this too far?" Kentin followed him, brow squiggling. "Putting the tv on for it? That's pretty weird."
Alexy looked to him with a smug set to his jaw, a devilish flame flickering in his eyes. "It's not for Alexandria. It's for your parents. They're not home yet. When they do come home, I'd rather have them hear this than hear us."
The blue-haired teen turned up the volume before discarding the remote on the couch. He fluidly strode up to Kentin, his hips swaying in an exaggerated motion that somehow kept a tantalizing grace. He hooked a finger under Kentin's dog tags and tugged him to his bedroom. Kentin let himself be pushed back onto the bed, anticipation blazing through his stomach. Alexy climbed onto Kentin's lap, knees pushed to the comforter and wicked fingers hotly skimming over skin and tugging at polyester.
Kentin threaded his fingers though Alexy's locks and wiggled his tongue through the torrid, wet slit of his parted lips. He swallowed Alexy's moan and tasted tropical juice, salt, desire. Alexy broke the kiss to draw his mouth over the stretch between Kentin's throat and collarbone, the puff of his breaths warm and the pressure of his teeth gentle. Pleasure unfurled beneath his sensitized flesh.
Alexy was a special lover. His touches were tender and his mouth was pliable. He would incorporate snippets of spice at inopportune junctures and it didn't take long for Kentin to discover just how wonderful it could be to be surprised by someone.
He cupped the curve of Alexy's ass and the quick, quiet noise of an opening zipper was lost under sounds pushed fourth from eager lips.