one - new beginnings

He looked up to the sound of a lock clicking.

It wasn't like he didn't know who'd opened the door. After all, he'd been living in the same house for just over a year—it would be laughable if he wasn't used to the pattern yet.

Still, he pretended that he hadn't heard the noise.

"Citrus?" He lowered his head once more, turning back to the half-filled sketchbook in front of him and listening for the the familiar pattern of footsteps that padded to the living room. "I'm home. How was your day?"

The boy tilted his head, letting his gaze fall forward as his housemate made his way to his desk before draping his arms over him as a response.

"Your hands are cold, stop that." He tried to shove Citrus off him gently, but his voice was lighthearted. "Were you drawing for the entire day again? You know that showering and eating your meals is important too, right?"

Citrus huffed, latching on to his friend once again and ignoring his question.

"Spinel works way too long as usual," he whined, drawing out his words and pouting as the blue-haired teenager laughed. "You need to ditch your jobs sometimes and give me more attention...I'm more important than your boring old working life, right?"

"Sorry, sorry." Spinel prodded at him until he reluctantly climbed back onto his chair. "I'm doing this so you can afford to have extra tabasco sauce during dinner, so cheer up, alright?"

He crossed his arms, only half-satisfied with the answer, but he accepted it anyway. "I'm hungry."

"Yeah, I bought food back." The other boy raised his arm to show him the plastic he was carrying. "It's curry from your favourite shop. I'll heat it up after I take a shower, so just wait until then, alright? Oh, and don't add so much sauce this time—I don't think it's good for your stomach."

"You lecture me too much," Citrus complained, reaching into the bowl of fruit Spinel kept for him on his table and grabbing an orange. "You should compliment me more instead."

Spinel hummed—he wasn't sure what kind of answer that was—and patted his head absentmindedly. "I'll keep that in mind. Either way, I'll go now, so just make sure to clear your drawing supplies when you're done."

He nodded his head just to shut him up, hoping that Spinel would take the cue and give him a hug, but instead the teenager just shot him a smile and headed off in the other direction.

Damn him. Citrus glared at his housemate's disappearing back. He'd get him back later for that—maybe he should ignore him for the whole of dinner? That would make for an appropriate counter.

Sighing, he closed his sketchbook, sweeping his pencils to a corner and hoping it would suffice. He hadn't manage to make much progress, but he'd completed the sketch of one of his commissions, at least. He'd colour it in when he was more motivated.

His gaze drifted towards the window. It was pretty clean, which meant that he could look through it to see the edge of the city. If he remembered correctly, the ocean was just past that, and Spinel liked to stare at the ocean, so he liked it too.

...that, and the fact that he'd first met him there.

Spinel had saved his life and had given him a home, so maybe he was being a little spoilt. Perhaps, if he remembered, he'd use only half the tabasco bottle for their next meal. Spinel would definitely appreciate that.

Yeah, he was being the prime example of a housemate.

He was jolted out of his thoughts as the bathroom door creaked open, and his friend stretched as he walked out, yawning into his palm and glancing at him.

"I'm back!" The shorter boy rubbed a towel against his hair, his blue locks appearing even darker from the water. "That felt great. I'll heat the curry up now, then."

He mumbled something in response, and Spinel just chuckled, shoving the two takeout containers into the microwave and switching it on. He then collapsed on their small couch, closing his eyes for a minute as he savoured his small moment of peace.

Citrus watched him from his spot at the table, and couldn't resist smirking when his friend started to nod off.

Then, the microwave beeped, and instead of helping to get the food like any other considerate friend would do, he simply turned around and stared at his housemate. "Spinel, the food's ready..."

"Huh? What? Oh." Spinel startled a little when his name was called, and he blinked as he realised that he'd fallen asleep for a few minutes. "Give me a moment."

He scrambled to reach the microwave and flip the switch, waiting for the machine to dim before yanking on a mitten and taking the two boxes of curry out. "Could you help to bring the mats and cutlery? My hands are kinda full at the moment."

"You're so mean, making me do this..." Citrus got to his feet despite his complaints, and he halfheartedly tugged at the drawer where they kept their forks and spoons. "I'll definitely take revenge...I'll place a thousand curses upon you."

"You're over-exaggerating again," Spinel retorted, placing a box of curry in front of him. "Here you go."

"Yay...it's curry." He clapped his hands together before uncapping the bottle of tabasco sauce he'd brought and starting to dump it over the rice. "Look, it's all red and colourful now. Don't you agree, Spinel? Wanna try some?"

The older boy gave him an incredulous look. "I think I'm good. Don't you think you should stop?"

"What about no?" Citrus poured the last of the bottle's contents onto his food, sighing in happiness as he shovelled a spoonful of the cursed mixture into his mouth. "It's so good...I think I'm in heaven—you should take some."

"I don't want to get a stomachache," the boy sighed, taking another bite of his own food. "Oh yeah, I have to go for classes after this, so I won't be home until late."

Citrus paused for a second, chewing his curry with more force than he'd intended to, and he shot his friend a cross look. "But why? You just got home. You're way too unreasonable."

"I mean, it's the only way I'll ever get into a university someday. Getting into a university means I can get a proper job, which means I can get you more tabasco sauce and better curry." Spinel paused for a moment. "And I can pay you more attention, if you really want that."

"That's true. I hate it when you're right," Citrus sighed, lowering his spoon in defeat. "You better spend more time with me, though. I get lonely without you around."

"I will, I promise. Maybe we could go take a walk at the park on my next off day. Or go to an amusement park or something."

He scowled at that. "But that involves effort...you try way too hard at things something, ya know? What about we just spend the whole day sleeping and drawing instead?"

Spinel looked as if he was about to answer, but an alarm cut him off from doing so—he still didn't know just how the boy had such bad taste in choosing ringtones, but no matter how many times he'd offered his advice, his housemate had never bothered to change it up.

"Ah, shit. I'll be late if I don't leave soon." He grabbed his bag from the chair next to him, flipping it open to make sure that all his textbooks were inside. "You can finish my curry if you want. I gotta blast."

"But I ran out of sauce," Citrus complained. "You haven't even been home for an hour and you're leaving already? Looking at you makes me wanna yawn already."

The blue-haired boy bobbed his head, only half-listening as he fumbled around for his wallet and fishing out his keys. "If you're tired, then you should go to sleep, right? Don't bother waiting for me tonight. I don't want you losing sleep."

"But I wake up at noon," he protested. "Why not ditch class?"

"Because that's not the right thing to do," Spinel sighed. "Anyway, you have to finish that commission of yours by tomorrow, so you should get some rest before then. It's the lady who contacted you last Saturday."

"Of course I remember," he shot back, ignoring the fact that he had forgotten about it as soon as he'd closed his sketchbook. It was good that Spinel had reminded him about it— if he was late with another of his commissions, he'd definitely get a bad reputation.

Spinel grinned at that. "That's great, then. See you tomorrow!"

The door shut behind him, and Citrus sighed, moving to drag the other box of curry towards him. It wasn't as spicy as he would have liked it to be, but it wasn't like he could complain to anyone about it.

Despite what he'd promised himself earlier, the bottle of tabasco sauce was still empty.

—

It was almost eleven, which was the time he usually went to sleep, and he had nestled himself in his bed, letting the feeling of the air conditioner's cold air blast him full-force as he wondered if it would be good to turn the temperature down even more.

The blankets were comfortable, and he felt drowsy, but the light switch was too far away and he wasn't feeling up to walking.

Instead, he switched on his phone, opening up a few of his accounts and mindlessly scrolling through the notifications he'd received. He wasn't a very big account; only popular enough to be able to have people willing to commission him, but he was happy with the number of fans he had.

He fidgeted with the device until he arrived at the latest request he'd received—his specialty was drawing portraits of people, so most of his work involved drawing people from real life.

The woman was in her thirties, and she'd asked him to draw a picture for her sister's wedding. It wasn't his favourite kind of commission, since that meant he didn't have as much freedom, but she'd offered to pay extra for it.

Maybe he could even afford his own tabasco sauce if she was satisfied with it.

Either way, it was good that he wasn't feeling one of his sudden bursts of inspiration. He had those spurts randomly, where he'd throw open his sketchbook and sketch whatever the hell he'd want, and if he remembered correctly, those drawings were met with mixed responses, like this isn't what I asked for or it's interesting.

He wasn't sure what was so bad about it. Sure, he would draw one person surrounded by creeping thorns and strange-looking ornaments when they'd asked for a happy photo, and draw dozens of chickens and a couple cows around someone who was from the city, but didn't they appreciate his artistic liberty?

It was troubling—he didn't get the minds of his followers, since Spinel was the one who helped him set up an account—but he would never know the answer, so it would be best to stop thinking about it.

He typed a reluctant reminder on his phone—finish wedding drawing asap by 9pm—and set it aside on his bedside table, mustering enough strength to walk across his room and switch the lights off before collapsing back in bed.

If he did this commission well, then Spinel would praise him a lot, and that would make him happy. It was as simple as it sounded, so he would do his best to finish up his work by tomorrow.

Well, Spinel would probably shower him with affection nonetheless—after all, he had just been some stranger that he'd picked off the street, and yet he still cared for him this much.

Either way, it wouldn't hurt for his housemate to pay more attention to him.

With that thought in mind, he was able to sleep soundly that night.

--

i kid you not this is the fluffiest shit you'll ever get from me

citrus is a whole mood except the spicy food part

anyway i hope you enjoy this book of two good bois being soft! also drama but that's not the main point here shh

also i don't know how to write descriptions so,,,, r i p

i know i still have to work on interim, but i have 0 motivation for that and i had a sudden urge to start this book LOL

anyways comments and votes would be vv appreciated thank u (i crave affection as much as citrus does //shot)