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Sun hugged every corner of Morris's living room thanks to the floor-to-ceiling window. The white bricks that formed the walls held a discreet tint of blue to them due to the morning light. Transparent chess pieces reflected it with dull glints, which in turn were reflected in Morris's glossy eyes.

"Victor..." he whispered.

The man looked up from the board. His pale skin was now straight-up white in the pale light, and Morris's brain ached trying to imagine how Noah's would look in it. Whiter? How?

"Are you crying." Victor asked monotonously.

Morris kept gawking at him. Blinking would cause tears to fall. Unless they did, he wasn't crying, or that's how he saw it at least.

"Is it at least working? The..." Victor blinked heavily. "Jesus, Morris... I still can't believe the shit you pull sometimes."

"Oh, it's working." Morris cleared his throat and moved his eyes down. Once they sunk into the layer of wetness, his vision went all blurry. Instead of picking a bishop, he moved the pawn, which suddenly found it in itself to fly across the board diagonally. All its pawn friends must've been awed by its ambition to break all predestined boundaries.

"I need compassion." Morris's voice took a high pitch. He pressed a fist to his lower lip, which trembled. "Can we cuddle please?"

Poor Victor's eyes widened helplessly, and his back straightened up. After long moments of hesitation, his eyebrows knitted together and he mewled.

"I... will call Vincent real quick."

He jumped to his feet and fled from the room. Morris hurriedly wiped his eyes with the back of his wrists and took calming breaths, fixing the suit he'd wear at work, which started in an hour.

He sipped from his coffee, pretending not to hear Victor's frustrated shouts from the other room.

They had to be withdrawal symptoms. It was like being a kid all over again, lacking that compassion he didn't even entirely understand the concept of. And now he was denying it purposefully.

On the spot, he'd enjoyed every second of what he was doing to Noah. It was just another side of Morris, everyone has multiple sides. It wasn't as though the current Morris, moping and whining and hugging himself, was a realer Morris than the man that had fucked Noah's mouth in a dirty bathroom stall. The very same way that the Morris who just moved a pawn across the board was equally authentic to the Morris that beat Victor, who was an intellect.

But he loved Noah. That stoic, sexy if he dared say so, man was reserved for important meetings, not a scrawny albino with head of cotton.

"You know the rules: no bite, no spit, no under the belt."

"That's boxing..." Morris grumbled.

"Which says a lot about the sport." Victor plopped on the bunch of pillow assembling the couch and opened his arms.

Morris slowly inched his way over and then held the man close to him, enough to pick the smell of books on him. It was very cliché for him to think that, but the scent really was discernable on his pale green sweater.

"Can I compliment you a lot...?"

"Just... go wild."

"I hate bowties with a passion, would burn their source if I had the chance, but I think they suit you well..." he took a deep breath, already feeling better. "I admire your knowledge, you're such a clever guy!"

Victor started snickering and moved around to get more comfortable.

"Since I came to terms with my sexual orientation I couldn't help but notice the quality of your butt."

"Ok that's-"

Morris tightened the hug, sighing. "I feel better..."

"Good, glad, um... time to get to work..."

Morris's lip trembled at the idea of having to pull on that attitude against Noah again. The thought caused him to plant multiple pecks on Victor's cheek, as to get it out of his system beforehand.

The man grunted, his hair having turned into a mess as well as his bowtie.

"Not worth it... I can just take the bus daily... It'd even be a possibility to make a sane friend for a change."

"What's that? Why yes you can help yourself to some chocolate, I have plenty. Here, open up."

"Oh dear God."

Noah was rolling down the street on his skateboard.

Those three days ago, when his body started breaking down, the road home on his bike had been kind of a nightmare. Ever since then he resumed to the skateboard, which didn't require much effort.

Since it was cloudy he kept his umbrella close, but used it to push himself instead of his foot, as though he was sailing the skateboard. Not that he was attracting enough attention without being weird like that.

He came to a stop when he got to Bob, seated on the usual spot on the sidewalk.

Noah walked over and looked him up and down before sitting next to him, at arms length so that the last incident wouldn't reoccur.

"Heard from my brother?" he asked, despite knowing the thing didn't talk. "Yeah, me neither. The lunatic..."

He poked his skateboard with the umbrella, eyes half-closed.

"You know, I was just stopping to uh... apologize."

He peeked sideways to see Bob's reaction. The guy was playing with the marbles he'd somehow gotten in his beard.

"It's just, you're struggling to get something to eat and I'm being an ungrateful prick by merely forgetting to..." he spoke away. "How dumb am I? A baby is more capable of surviving than me. It knows hunger... Now I can barely eat an apple."

Noah paused all of his actions, then hummed. "That's actually kind of genius... I could buy myself baby food and work up from there..."

He gawked at Bob. "Thanks!"

From up close, he could notice his eyes were young, relatively so. Perhaps early thirties. The irises were a watery blue, like most hobos' if you think about it. It was as though they spent so much time under the sky that a little of it got in their eye.

Noah chuckled at the thought, but then the atmosphere broke because a passing woman threw money at him.

"Get well..." she murmured kindly.

"Yeah, sure, thanks. It's called albinism." Noah called after her, past caring. Still, he glanced at himself in consideration. The long-sleeve t-shirt on him was very large, thin and skin-colored (healthy Caucasian skin). Next to the black, worn-out jeans, he was kind of matching Bob's style. (i drew noah, he's up there)

He took the change and placed it in Bob's laid out beanie. No, he was still wearing one, why not have two. Knitted and loose, it barely hanged by his bushy head.

"Hey, great talk." Noah patted the man on his shoulder and stood up.

Bob silently observed him. Not confused, not understanding, just... clear.

Noah sketched a smile and took a few strides before hopping on his skateboard.

Surely enough, after patting his pocket, he found that his cigarettes were gone.

Noah and Chester were at their spot under the bridge, leaning against one of the walls that supported it.

The albino was holding a very tiny jar with both hands, inspecting it with a frown. Banana, biscuit and cinnamon flavored baby food.

Chester had the same expression, only sleepier. That nap they'd taken those days ago had turned for him into something near coma. It took the entire floor to wake him up at the end of work hours. Ever since then, he was back to his jellyfish attitude with a side of sarcasm, but nothing like the psychopath tendencies from before.

He held up a tiny plastic spoon he took from the lunch room at Noah's request. Noah thanked him with a nod and got on struggling to uncap it.

Chester took the jar from him and gripped the cap. A flick of the wrist and it was undone.

Noah's eyebrows found each other in a look of worry. He took the container and inserted the spoon.

"You know, I think baby food can only be consumed through spoon-feeding. It might not work otherwise." Chester said.

Noah squinted at him and then scoffed. "Kinky bastard."

He handed him the food and Chester teasingly sent him an air-peck. As a reaction, Noah waved a hand quickly.

"Did someone fart."

Chester chuckled and held up a spoonful of the creamy substance.

"Make airplane motions." Noah said.

The man's hand started looping around before eventually inserting the spoon. Noah was laughing faintly as he munched.

"Holy shit that's good." he deadpanned. "It even has a slight crunch... Mmm."

Chester took a taste for himself and frowned slightly. "Yes."

The feeding resumed, with Chester sneaking a few spoons for himself. Noah was really pleased with the process: his friend waited just the right amount of time for him to much and swallow, and took just the right amount of food.

"You'd be a cool father." Noah stated.

The man's wide shoulders raised, curls of hair slipping off them. He was glancing at the ground, the lines under his eyes dark and thick.

"You saw how I get when I don't sleep."

Noah leaned on his bent up legs to play with his brown converses.

"Try pills again."

"Last time it took me six for them to work. Next time went for eight and threw up all over the place."

Noah glanced at him tentatively. "At least that's two things in common with a baby: white nights and vomit."

"Shut up crepe-face." Chester pressed his knuckles into Noah's temple, who in turn grunted in pain and swatted him.

With that, he continued playing with his shoes since the jar was empty. He listened to the cars that passed above them, causing the ceiling to sprinkle a little cement dust.

"What about you and Morris. Adopting?" Chester asked humorously.

"Ha-ha. If only I didn't hate kids and Morris didn't hate me."

Chester sucked in his lips, scratching his beard. Despite having trimmed it, he still looked like Jesus. "Girl talk?"

Noah sighed. "Girl talk."

"See, here's the deal." the man leaned aside to take his cigarettes out of his pocket. He lightened one up and gave it to Noah before repeating the process for himself. With that, he placed his elbows on his knees and looked at Noah with those dry eyes of his.

"He's obviously doing it on purpose."

Noah let smoke wash over his insides, sweeping away the after-taste of baby-food. "I thought so myself at some point, but... the stuff he does, and the look on his face..."

"Oh come on, this is so bullshit." Chester groaned tiredly. "You hurt his little feelings and he's treating you like that so that you turn to mush and confess your little feelings. So just, you know, do it."

Noah blushed, feeling the gayest he's ever felt. And he sucked cock.

"Start with some cheesy gift. What's something he likes?"

Noah scratched the back of his neck. "Ah...well, you know... ties n' stuff."

Chester smoothly moved his way towards Noah. "What gave you that impression? The fact he wears one everyday and matches it with his socks? A cleaning lady could tell that much."

"I..." Noah looked around the place before giving up with a sigh. "All right, I don't know shit because I didn't care to ask because I'm a jerk because of fucking... Davin..."

Silence followed, save for the puffs Chester let out. Noah only stared at the ash of his cigarette, clenching his teeth. He'd recently had his braces tightened and so it kind of hurt, but he kept at it anyway.

"Fine, then. Start by telling him about Davin to justify your attitude. He'll understand. Once that's out of the way, ask him on a date. He'll accept. Once that's out of the way, well, you've got yourself that office drama crap you've been trying to avoid."

Noah chuckled dryly before sucking long on his cigarette.

"Sounds easy enough..."

"Because it is." Chester commented. "Moving on. Did you check that link I gave you?"

And like that, their usual routine of sitting under the bridge and chatting about weird shit began. It was all very familiar and comforting for Noah, who really needed such things what with all the stuff going on.

But halfway through the lunch break, it came to a stop too quickly.

They heard approaching steps but paid no mind since sometimes, rarely, some people took that route. But other times, even rarer, Morris did.

Instead of a coat, he had on a thick sweater that a grandpa would wear. Naturally, it looked fantastic on him, the texture going well with dark brown dress pants and black boots. The collar of his pale blue shirt could be seen over the neck of the sweater.

Noah bit back sarcastic remarks since they'd feel out of place, what with Morris's confident, untouchable expression. He just kept his seat, sucking on his third cigarette before breathing in. As after any drag, his head got lighter, calming down his nerves.

Morris nodded at them both and then extended the clipboard he was holding in a hand, a pen in the other. Noah eyed the paper pinned there with a confused frown before searching the man's eyes.

"It's been irresponsible of me, especially as HR, to..." Morris glanced at Chester, but must've deduced he knew enough. "...approach you the way I did on the company's premises. I'll have you sign this consensual relationship agreement document if you want it to continue."

Noah flicked away his cigarette and pushed himself up. "So we're a couple, then."

Morris started bouncing the clipboard. "This is a mere formality."

"So we're not."

The man raised an eyebrow. "I brought the possibility into equation and you bluntly rejected it. Hence, I'm past it. This means nothing."

He handed the clipboard and pen to Noah, who clumsily caught them, too distracted by his words.

His pale red eyes gawked at Morris with a look of obvious hurt. Morris arranged his collar only to gulp dryly behind his hand, looking away. He's come so far and it was starting to work, Noah was visibly letting his guards down, and so he couldn't back off now.

Noah shoved the clipboard to Morris's chest, sending him stumbling backwards, and then threw the pen to the clipboard. It bounced right off in two pieces and fell to the ground with soft thuds.

Morris looked at Noah only to receive a very angry middle finger, all trembling and- unhealthily thin.

Noah turned around and made to walk away, if only it wasn't for his dearest friend's leg that intentionally tripped him.

Noah fell to the ground with an "Umph."

After a long pause, he slowly turned on his side to grip at a leg. "Ow..." he moaned. "What the shit!"

"Tell him." Chester snapped and stood up. He shook his head at Morris and walked away, bumping the man's shoulder as he went.

Morris glanced at him and then went to Noah, who slapped away his extended hand and went to the wall on his fours before plopping down with his back against it.

He raised both legs of his pants and inspected the skin. Morris's eyes widened as he took in the dark spots on his knees, contrasting against the white. He glanced aside, to where he'd fallen, and only saw earth and rare, thin grass.

"What happened to your knees?"

The fall must've dizzied him a little, for he didn't seem to have the energy to glare. He only glanced up at Morris, head bent down, eyebrows knitted together.

"Bathroom floor."

Morris took his time in composing himself instead of jumping to peck his knees better. The tiny, round little things poking out stridently.

He bent down and picked up the pen to assemble it back together. "You should see a doctor..."

"Fuck you!"

Morris snapped his head Noah's way. "That would only make it worse."

Noah gawked at the joke and stumbled with his words before eventually quieting down. He took a deep breath.

"Kent."

Morris raised his chin expectantly.

Noah just hated this attitude of his. The last thing he wanted to tell him was that side of his past, he'd rather go for 'fuck off and die'.

Hence, he delayed the speech by continuing to inspect his disgusting legs, rubbing them up and down slowly.

"I don't..." he pulled the material back over his legs and crossed them Indian style. "Would you sit down?"

Morris eyed his own pants. "I'd rather not."

"Right." Noah scoffed and stood up, leaning on the wall. "I-"

He stopped upon seeing Morris check his watch. When Noah ceased to find the words, Morris spoke up.

"Whatever it is you're trying to say, can it go faster? I have a meeting in-"

"Fuck off and die."

And Noah stormed off.

do you like the portrait :')

I know he looks like shit

it's 'cause flaws are important

for characters, deal with it.

....leave a comment I like them!

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