the laugh was good - solomon always appreciated getting a laugh out of someone. even if it were just by making some sort of horrible noise. his gaze flickered back and forth between noah and the road ahead, watching as he covered the laugh by looking away. his expression turned a bit bemused, though, at the talk of sausages and squeezing.
“christ almighty,” he murmured, shaking his head as he eased his car up to the curb, cutting the engine. “you’re fuckin’ terrible, you are. you’re lucky i got a strong stomach or i might’a lost my breakfast out the window.” weren’t much breakfast to lose, but solomon didn’t need to mention that. eating while working was a little difficult - eating right after waking up was near impossible.
“why do people keep thinkin’ i look like a narc?” he muttered, half to himself, unhitching his belt with a roll of his eyes, cranking the window back up. it was a good natured complaint, though, smile playing about his mouth.
“nothin’. don’t worry about it, eh? if i’m feelin’ up to it i might take you up on the smoke,” he said, shaking his head a little, stuffing his vape away before opening his door. he met noah’s gaze for a moment, flashing the bloke a grin before he hauled himself up and out of the car, shutting the door hard enough to make it rattle.
“c’mon, then. gimme the grand tour then get to cookin’,” he said, cheeky little grin still on his mouth.
Not for the first time, Noah felt as if he’d missed out on something that Solomon expected him to follow. Motives. What motives did people have for smoking? Extra cash, maybe, from selling? Just...just trying to...chill out?
He was still staring at Solomon in mild confusion when their eyes locked, when Solomon flashed him a smile as light and lovely as a true gift, and Noah only realized his mouth was hanging slightly open when Solomon left the car.
Yeah, okay, he’d definitely missed something, he just had to figure out how to get back to it, then.
Scrambling out of the car far less coolly than Solomon had - more half falling out of it like a newborn puppy - he hurried up the path to the nice, if not a little rundown, home. Southport wasn’t exactly known for its exceptional multimillion dollar houses, after all.
He unlocked the door and presented a quaint, well decorated living room. “So here’s where my landlord sits,” Noah said, gesturing, already heading further down the hall toward the quaint, well decorated dining room and kitchen. “Here’s where my landlord eats. Down there,” he said, pointing all the way to the end of the hall. “That’s where my landlord shits and sleeps, and...” He opened the first door in the hall. “Here’s where I do literally everything, since it’s the only damn room I rent.” Noah grinned.
How could he not? The rest of the house was perfectly cleaned, like a dollhouse only slightly down on its luck, and then there was Noah’s room, with a veritable mountain of dirty clothes in the corner, posters of musicians and memes all over the walls, a desk covered in sheet music, and a bed that was frankly obscene in size, taking up most of the floor space. More than a bit suggestive of where he spent most of his time.
“C’mon, let’s feed you before you turn into a big grumpy bear or something.” Noah lightly caught Solomon by the wrist, tugging him along behind him for a few steps before he let go once he crossed the threshold to the kitchen. “Want a beer, or a Coke to kick things off, or...” He gestured toward the extremely nice coffee bean grinder and french press. “I don’t know how that shit works, but as long as you don’t break it, my landlord would never know? Her beans are in the cabinet above it.”
