Red Hot Omelets

William Terry Louis Andrew Carrick Jonathan Dredge Hams Reading Roger Southwark Alwick Plymouth Junior Regison III is a wealthy man visiting Waffle Island in the hopes of finding reliable business partners. Gill just can't be bothered.

"You lied to me," the voice on the phone cut across like a hot knife through butter.

Angela held the phone just an inch or two from her ear for fear her caller might burst into a fitful scream at any moment. "M—maybe it's a misunderstanding?"

Gill twirled the phone cord on his end with a vengeance barely containing his annoyance, "Give him another chance, you said."

"Gill… you make it sound like he cheated on you."

The twirling stopped rather abruptly. The slam of the phone was pretty abrupt, too. Gill stormed to the kitchen where a burnt pancake covered the pan. He flicked off the stove and dumped the pancake in the trash, slamming the pan on the stove again. He stood there letting the steam release from his ears much like the smoking pan.

Not only did she give him bad advice, but now accused him of swinging…that way? Preposterous!

Then why are you so angry?

Because he stood me up! Gill answered his own mental question, rattling the pan on the stove as though he were cooking something.

It would have been strange for two men to watch the fireworks together. Didn't last night work out well for everyone?

No!

Why?

Because NO.

Like clockwork, Will came ambling down the stairs, this time already dressed to go out. He must have not wanted a confrontation that morning, because he inched to the door rather than try to get in Gill's face like he usually did. Gill wouldn't give him that luxury.

"William Terry Louis Andrew Carrick Jonathan Dredge Hams Reading Roger Southwark Alwick Plymouth Junior Regison III."

The blond froze, visibly jolting as Gill read off every name like a curse word. He slowly craned his head to meet eyes and replied, albeit reluctantly, "You called…?"

Gill folded his arms, eyes narrowing. "I waited. For two hours."

"Ah, you're referring to the Sea Festival…" blue eyes darted from Gill to the door as though he were contemplating running out the door. Of course, he couldn't do that. Will folded his arms as well, though much less aggressively; he looked like someone with something to hide, "I'm terribly sorry I couldn't make it to our appointment."

"Appointment," Gill repeated, tapping a foot impatiently. "You were the one who invited me."

"I'm sorry…" Gill did feel a tinge of pity for the poor guy being subjected to this lengthy guilt trip—but he had to learn that it's just plain wrong to stand people up! Particularly if that person went out of their way to make a comfortable home for him and cooked for him every day. Gill cooked for him. Did his laundry. Will wavered for a moment, unsure of what he should say. What he did say came as a bit of a surprise, "Gill, could it be that you fancy me?"

Gill blinked at the speed and fluidity that such an absurd question left the man's lips, stunned beyond any capability to respond. He stood there with an expression like he'd witnessed Arthur defecating on their hand-made Indian carpet.

Taking the silence as a green light, Will continued slightly louder this time, "How do I say it… You seem hyper-aware of me. Am I wrong?"

Are you wrong? ARE YOU WRONG? "Every one of you…" his voice barely audible as his bangs covered his eyes, Gill chuckled in a way that made his own hair stand on end, "Why do you all assume I'm that way? First Angela and now you? Whatever happened to my supposed love for Luna?" His voice raised at the mention of her name, causing Will to jolt. "Oh wait, I know what happened to Luna. You!"

"What are you talking about?" Will clearly knew what Gill was talking about; he seemed to shrink back at the mere mention of her name.

"I saw you yesterday," Gill went on, pacing about the room gathering miscellaneous objects and placing them in random places as though he were casually redecorating. It was all he could do to keep himself from shouting, walk around till he was too out of breath to shout. "Of course, it makes sense you'd want to spend the evening with a cute little girl than another man. I understand."

Will shook his head at the scene; this wasn't how he'd imagined the morning playing out. Moreover he'd never imagined the hard-working and intelligent Gill could be so unaware of his own feelings. "Listen to what you're saying!" Gill snapped up at being grabbed by the arm, not hard enough to hurt, but not loose enough to break free. "You do fancy me."

"T—that's ridiculous! How could you even suggest such a thing?" he stuttered, trying to tug his arm free but to no avail. "Let me go, I have to go to wo—ohm." That excuse might have worked if he'd managed to finish his sentence. The words were crushed under the weight of Will's tongue, their lips moving over each other and their noses bumping awkwardly as Gill tried to wiggle free.

The force of the blond's weight and their unequal footing sent Gill falling against the wall, his eyes shut tight, having become too lightheaded to make out anything anyway.

A cold hand snaked up his vest, sending a shiver down his spine. Will parted long enough to allow him a gasp of air before moving to his chin, planting hot kisses down his neck.

Truthfully: it felt good.

Gill's arms were free to push the blond away, so how was it he could only cling to Will's back as their bodies pressed together? How could those pathetic moans be coming from his lips?

"Have either of you seen my keys? Oh my," Hamilton stood in the doorway with a hand over his mouth.

Thank the heavens and stars above they heard the doorknob jiggle just in time to tear apart. Will was practically plastered to the wall on the other side of the room while Gill collapsed on the floor; with their clothes and hair tousled and random objects strewn about the place it looked like a disaster zone.

Hamilton scratched his head, "Is everything alright here?"

Gill managed to nod through heavy pants, swallowing a few times before answering in an absurdly cheery tone, "Everything is great, father! You're keys must be in the basket in the kitchen."

"…Alright then," the mayor didn't seem entirely convinced, but decided to leave it be much to their relief.

"Gill, are you feeling alright? You're not sick? You look pale."

"For the third time: I'm fine," he bit back sharply, wincing inwardly at his discourtesy. Elli didn't deserve such treatment, but he just couldn't hold his tongue. How could he focus on work after being assaulted like that? He'd always taken Will for something of a pervert but he didn't expect him to be so aggressive about it. I'm the one in love with him? He's the one who attacked me! We've barely known each other for a week! Who does he think he is?

Elli tilted her head from one side to the other as though analyzing his state of being, but couldn't seem to come up with a diagnosis. She shrugged to herself, returning to her work hoping that maybe he'd feel like talking it over. Or he'd find someone to talk to, at the very least.

"May I stay with you tonight?"

Angela held the door open, genuinely surprised to see a sickly looking Will stooped at her doorstep looking like he'd run away from home. She slowly stepped aside for him to enter. "Did something happen?" she questioned hesitantly closing the door behind them.

Will hobbled to the chair and slouched down, looking downright lifeless. His face was pale as a ghost, "I'm a filthy animal."

An odd silence filled the room as Angela quietly fixed them some warm tea. She raised her cup to let the steam warm her face, as though it weren't already hot enough for a summer evening. She smiled weakly, "You sound like me earlier today. Actually…I attacked someone…"

Will nearly choked on his tea, sending a flush of color to his face. He leaned in closer, wiping the liquid from his chin with a kerchief.

Angela laughed nervously at his sudden rejuvenation. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm probably lower than a wild animal."

"No, no," he butted in, placing the cup on the table and waving one hand. "I'm lower than dirt!"

The two stared at each other a moment before erupting in a fit of giggles, before awkwardly quieting down again. Neither seemed to want to continue their stories, but both were eager to hear what the other had to say.

Will turned away, signaling his willingness to go first. "I…kissed Gill again… forcefully. I'm horrible. And here I am, confiding such disturbing details with a lovely woman. I'm truly ashamed of myself."

Angela felt a pang of guilt sink into her stomach. Her eyes became dull as she recounted earlier events. "Umm… I sort of… pushed her down."

This time he was smart enough not to take a sip while she was in mid-sentence, but the shock still hit him like a bat to the head. "Pushed her down…" he repeated, nearly slapping himself in the face for visualizing it.

"Because she did that last night! I just…" she trailed off, raising her cup to her lips but not drinking.

"We're both terrible, aren't we."

"We have to apologize as soon as possible."

"As soon as possible."

Despite that, they found something or other to occupy their time with until well into the night, but the more they talked the gloomier the room got. Angela sipped her now cold tea, glancing up at the clock. "Are you really going to stay over?"

Will shook his head, "No matter my afflictions, I cannot allow myself to occupy a young maiden's space all hours of the night."

"…It's rhetoric like that that get you in trouble all the time," Angela warned with a roll of her eyes.

"It's how I was raised," he retorted.

A thunderous knock at the door shook them to the core—if this were a cartoon they'd be holding onto each other like scared mice.

"It's probably Gill!"

"It's probably Luna!"

They two stared at each other, nerves driving them to raise their voices. Angela pointed at him with a shaky finger, "It's definitely Gill here to pick you up!"

Will stood from his chair, equally as loud, "That rapturous yet elegant rapping is most certainly Luna!"

Another thunderous bang on the door follow by the wood practically swinging off its handle sent them into stunned silence as a short girl dressed in cutesy frills and pigtails stood in the doorway wearing possibly the most vicious expression ever witnessed.

Will wanted to say 'I told you so' but the small woman's powerful glare stunned him into silence—and he wasn't even the target!

Angela stood up, her mouth gaping open in shock but no words fell out.

Luna practically ran up to them, pinching Angela's cheek so hard it turned white, "Who throws off a girl's clothes and then leaves her in the cold? Huh? Tell me who! You dirt bag!"

It wasn't directed at him, but he was still within earshot. And boy were his ears shot. Who knew such deafening tones could arise from such a cute little frame. Angela sent him a pleading look, but he only bowed his head and made his way for the door. If it were a man, he'd intervene, but he knew he had no business between two lovely birds. He was just about to make his escape when a familiar yet terrifying figure blocked the way.

Who else but Gill's frosty eyes pierce into his very soul! Will stumbled backward, "I'm sorry!"

His reflexive response didn't deter Gill from his tirade. Gill folded his arms, "Just what time of night do you think it is? Just who do you think is responsible for your welfare while you're on this island?"

Needless to say, there wasn't this much commotion on the east side of Waffle Island since…ever. Will hoped and prayed Gill will have cooled off by tomorrow. Angela hoped and prayed she'd still be alive tomorrow.