The following morning, before the sun even rose, the two boys awoke silently, creeping out from under Alfred's Pixar-copyrighted sheets. They then slipped out the door without a sound.

There were no longer clouds in the sky, but it certainly smelled like it had rained the night before. Alfred sat on his bike's seat and motioned for Yong Soo to sit on the handlebars.

"No."

"Why?"

"I might fall off."

"You sound like your brother."

"Which one?"

"The girly one."

"Which girly one?"

"Touché."

The Korean reluctantly got on the handles anyway. The American pushed forward slowly, trying to keep the bike steady as it wobbled along the sidewalk. The bike began to gain speed and balance, and Yong Soo relaxed from his tense position.

Then he realized something. "Uh, Al, can you see?"

"Not a fucking thing."

Yong Soo yelled at Alfred to stop, but it was too late. The bike had started descending a hill, at the bottom of which was the convenience store where the two were headed. Just as they began to ride into the parking lot of the gas station, Alfred slammed the breaks, sending them both flying straight into the store's manager, who was just opening up the building.

The three toppled to the ground in a collection of thuds, thankfully missing the cage full of propane tanks. Without hesitation, the manager shoved the teenagers off of him, and went to open the door.

Alfred looked up, dusting off his pants. "Sorry, Mr. Eriksson!"

"Whatever," Replied the Norwegian. Bjorn Eriksson was a stoic man in his early twenties and seemingly the only person who worked at the convenience store. He always had a serious look on his face, though he was never very serious about anything.

Alfred and Yong Soo followed Bjorn into the store. While the Norwegian shuffled to his spot behind the counter, the dynamic duo browsed the miniature aisles in pursuit of tchotchkes and supplies. They ended up bringing rope, gloves, peanut butter, a lighter, and several bottles of Diet Mountain Dew (Alfred's mother didn't let him have regular) to the counter, where Bjorn checked them out without questioning the oddity of the array.

As Yong Soo Im forked over a wad of Washingtons, Bjorn actually spoke a full sentence.

"Y'know, Im, your sister is pretty cute."

"Which sister?" asked the Korean in bout a déjà vu.

"The one who actually leaves her room."

Then, Alfred spoke up. "But, dude, Mei's thirteen and you're twenty-two. That's just not kosher. Dude."

Bjorn shoved over the bag of miscellanea, retorting, "What isn't kosher is you getting beat up by Im's cousin from Vietnam who has more balls than you, Jones."

"Th- that was just a fluke! I was eight and had a broken arm!"

"To be fair, you were kind of asking for it with the whole 'hey babe you got some nice tits' thing, Alfie," Yong Soo added.

Alfred and Yong Soo walked out of the store, Alfred walking the bike by the handlebars for long trek up the hell hill that they had just sped down minutes before.

"Hey, Alfredo sauce, about last night…" Yong Soo's voice trailed off. His face was highlighted by the violet-pink sun creeping over the horizon. His almond-shaped eyes were home to shiny, dark circles that seemed to glitter when Yong Soo was making mischief. His wide smile could power New York City. And since Alfred had seen his friend naked several times, he knew how amazing Yong Soo's body was, and that his penis was almost as big as Alfred's. Almost.

"Yeah, Yong-Ding-Dong?"

And in that moment, with the sun peeking over the houses and trees, making Yong Soo basically glow, Alfred decided he was in like (like, like-like) with his best friend.

"Well, Alfalfa…"

"Yeah, Yong Soo'p Kitchen?"

"Uh… So, Al-ice in Wonderland."

It had been moments earlier, earlier than Alfred's moment of fate, that Yong Soo had a similar moment, a moment of fate, a moment when he fell in love. He figured it was because Alfred had made that pouty face at Bjorn, and Yong realized that he wanted that face all for himself. He wanted to see what made Alfred tick, and what made him tock.

After they had finally ascended the hill in a cloud of awkward silence, Alfred dropped his bike on the sidewalk and fell face-first into the grass. The owner of the lawn was none other than the eccentric Greek man with about a gazillion cats, Mr. Karpusi. The lazy felinophilic was notorious for being in a constant feud with his neighbor, Mr. Adnan. Alfred found that funny, because in real life, Greece and Turkey (where Mr. Adnan was from) did not get along, and it seemed that neither did their citizens. Actually, he wasn't even sure if either man was a citizen of his own country.

As if on cue, the Greek man opened the door and walked out of his house to see the sunrise, with about five cats following him. He took notice of the two boys at the edge of his yard, and lazily walked over to greet them. Yong Soo wondered how laid back one would have to be to casually greet two people he hardly knew except for their delinquent record who were laying on his lawn taking turns scooping peanut butter out of a jar with their fingers, all before the sun rose.

"Alfred, Yong Soo… Morning," he greeted lazily. The boys looked up, frightened for only a second before they realized that nothing bad would come of them, except maybe having cat hair all over their clothes. Since this is fiction, and it can be as convenient (or not) as possible, a calico with calm yellow eyes crawled up onto Alfred's chest, begging silently to be petted with her needy-looking (and admittedly adorable) face. Alfred indulged her, making sure to get under the neck; he heard that cats loved that.

"Uh, how are you, Mr. Karpusi?" asked Yong Soo, scooping up another glob of peanut butter.

The Mediterranean man grunted softly as he sat down next to the teens. "I'm… fine." He petted the Siamese that has crawled into his lap as soon as he sat down. "Hey, did you know… I ran the torch for the Olympics when it was last in Athens?"

The two boys' ears perked up.

"Wow really?

"Cool!"

"Yeah… I wore… a toga."

"OH MY GOD A TOGA!" yelled Alfred, overly-excited, enthused, amazed and awestruck at the very thought of a toga. Yong Soo made a face that looked as if he had just been given a million dollars.

"Mmhmm… Still have it, too."

Alfred was excited in more adjectives than this story's author can think of at the moment since she's sitting with her demented great-grandma in the living room watching Chowder. "OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD CAN I SEE THE TOGA PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE OHMYGOD! "

"Sure, come with me…" Mr. Karpusi got up with another grunt. (How old was this guy anyways? He only looked about thirty but acted as if his body was sixty.) Alfred and Yong Soo followed ecstatically.

Reaching the musty, cramped attic, the Olympian opened up a large, fancy trunk. He pulled out the rather scanty garment, inspecting it quickly before the teens at the opposite end (read: a meter away) of the attic scrambled over to see it.

"You know…" began Heracles Karpusi, tired and cat-iful as usual, "I think Alfred is just about the size to fit into this."

The American's eyes lit up in a sparkle that could rival Edward Cullen's. "C- Could I? REALLY!"

This was exactly how Alfred found himself nearly naked in his kooky neighbor's living room. Mr. Karpusi's eyes had been slightly off—the light fabric clung tightly to his skin, accentuating and revealing every curve and crevice on his body. One was easily able to see his long, defined legs with the hemline merely inches from his crotch. Yong Soo had snickered when he found out that his friend was wearing briefs; some less-than-kosher thoughts invaded his mind.

While the Greek had gone into the kitchen to fix coffee, the boys were left alone in the dimly-lit living room. Alfred had one foot propped up on the coffee table, trying to pose and make his "muscles" look bigger. Yong Soo took notice of the small patch of underpants he could see from his position on the sofa. The Korean piped up in a sing song voice.

"I see London, I see France, I see Allllfreeeeed's UNDERPANTS!" He lunged forward, tackling his toga-clad friend and knocking him over onto the wood floor. Yong Soo lay on top of Alfred for a while, playing nonchalantly with the cowlick that protruded from Alfred's towheaded locks.

"Hey Alfoof."

"Yeah Yongeroo?"

"You're kinda sexy in that toga in a totally non-homosexual way."

"So it's bromosexual instead, right?"

The Korean answered by shifting upwards, moving his head from its perch on Alfred's chest to where it hovered above his face; Yong Soo placed his lips softly onto Alfred's, whose rebuttal was a fierce kiss back.

And again, another chapter finished! The next chapter is what I think the actual drama-angst plot shit happens in. I think. I don't really remember. Oh guys, if you're ever wondering why my tone kind of flops around, and I do things in some chapters that should appear in other ones but don't, I am blaming it on my ADHD. As I write this author's note, it has been really bad lately so. If the story is weird and inconsistent I apologize.