Title: Highspeed to love (5 / ???)
Fandom: Zeke; Casey; OMC (no pairings)
Disclaimer: of course, not mine
Author's notes: AU without Marybeth and Herrington High - Zeke is 23 years old in this story, living in Youngstown, Ohio - Casey, is 18 years old and loves ... do you really want to know ? ;)
Previous parts: one / two / three / four /
Zeke looked into the opened fridge.
"Like I said, it's not much. You can have toast. And there is still a jar of jam. Strawberry rhubarb."
He glanced over to Casey who leaned against the door frame to the small kitchen and smiled wide.
"You're so not the jam type of guy!"
"So? And what type am I," Zeke chuckled.
"Eggs and bacon. Fried potatoes with ham. Jam is for guys who prefer sugar in their coffee."
The grin deepened.
"It's from my ex," he said.
"She loves this shit. I actually don't have breakfast at all. A coffee and a cigarette - that's enough."
"Not healthy," he murmured and pushed Zeke aside to have a better look into the fridge.
"Hmm. Do you like cheese omelette?"
"Cheese omelette," Casey repeated and took out an egg-carton and a wedge of cheese. He put it on the small table and looked around searching.
"Where is your frying pan? You own one, right?"
"Ähm, somewhere under the sink, I guess," Zeke answered bewildered.
Casey rolled with his eyes and started to search through the cabinet. Finally he found what he was looking for - an old, obviously rarely used pan. He put it onto the stove and turned the knob. Before he turned back to the table he threw a glance at Zeke.
"You could make the coffee. If you put a bit salt onto the coffee powder it's gonna taste much better."
It happened only seldom that Zeke was lost for words. But he obeyed and turned to the coffeemaker. The boy had taken control over his kitchen as if he was at home here. He opened the cupboard and the drawers, looking for bowls and an egg beater from which he had not even known that he owned one. Mixed up the eggs with some milk, salt and pepper. Grated the cheese.
All what he did looked so natural, as if he knew exactly what to do. When he finally gave the mass into the pan he hummed softly. Zeke shook his head, grinning slightly. It was nice to see how much he had changed. Every tension had fallen from him.
Casey finally seemed to notice his curious look. Suddenly he looked a bit unsure.
"Sorry," he murmured.
"I like cooking!"
"Yeah, I see," smiled Zeke.
"It smells good!"
Casey shrugged, folded the omelette carefully together and turned the stove off.
"Don't expect too much. It would be better with cheddar. This cheese is not really spicy enough for an omelette. Coffee is ready? At least we should eat it before it's getting cold."
Zeke nodded and took two mugs with coffee - and the sugar bowl - while Casey balanced the plates with the omelette into the living room. What a weird situation. He would have breakfast together with a burglar.
Even though in the mornings he usually wanted nothing more than to have some peace and quiet. One of the reasons for the break up with his last girlfriend. She always wanted to stay overnight, wake up in his arms, a 'good-morning-cuddling' with kisses and swears of undying love and finally breakfast in bed.
He had felt cornered. All he wanted was to get a good night's rest. When he finally dragged himself out of bed it was almost too late and there was just time for a quick shower and a cigarette before hurrying down into the garage. She had accused him to love his job more than her ... and maybe she was right. He had felt relieved when it was over.
Today it was different. It was a monday morning and mondays always were slow in the repair-shop. He could take the liberty to go down one hour later than usual. It was nice just sitting together with this boy - no need to talk shit - and enjoying breakfast. He knew a lot about cars but nothing about cooking. So to his mind the omelette was perfect, no matter what Casey had said about it. Much better than the frozen pizza and tinned spaghetti he usually bought. And also the coffee tasted different - the little trick with the salt worked wonders.
When Casey took the sugar bowl and gave three spoons of sugar into his mug he pulled the face.
"What? This is good. Wanna try?"
"No, thanks. I don't want to spoil my appetite. This is much too good!"
"But it's just an omelette," Casey answered, though Zeke could say that he was pleased to hear the compliment.
"Some day you should try my Bacon-Pie or the Bacon Onion Muffins."
Zeke looked at him thoughtfully.
"You know a lot about cooking, huh?"
"Not that much. But it's fun. Though I haven't done it any more for longer. My dad ... he doesn't like it. He says, cooking is a women's job. He has a housekeeper for the laundry and the cooking. Tzz - she has no clue. She even ruined the green bean casserole for Thanksgiving."
"And where do you have learned how to cook?"
Casey hesitated for a short moment. Finally he smiled softly, but Zeke saw the sad sparkling in his eyes.
"My grandma," he murmured.
"She knew all about cooking. She was the best!"
go to part 6