Lemons, Limes, Sublime-Brooklyn Boys

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Waves and Skittery, people!

Also mentions of peppermint and spearmint. Not quite sure of the difference but (I think) we eat peppermint more. I think spearmint has a more subtle taste while peppermint is a bit more pronounced, which is where people get the idea that it's "spicy", because of its high count of methanol.

Enjoy!

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Waves ran into the kitchen with a certain boost of energy, scaring every single one of his roommates. He immediately began grabbing cups and pitchers, striking the interest of everyone.

"What are you doing, Waves?" Spot walked into the kitchen and sat on the counter, watching his friend place the cups in a row meticulously. "What are we making today?"

"Lemonade." Waves looked into the drawers, moving random items around in search of bright red- "Where are the measuring cups?"

Spot shrugged, grabbing an apple and biting into it. How was he supposed to know? The only time he's ever made something was with Race, and that was a few weeks ago. "You'll have to ask Race."

Waves stared at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and grabbing his phone out of his pocket. He dialed in the blonde's number— how he remembered it, no one knows— and placed the phone to his ear, listening to it ring. It took five rings before someone picked up. "Hello?"

"Where are my measuring cups? I'm trying to make something." Waves moved around the kitchen, searching in drawers and cabinets. "I need them."

"I don't know, check the dishwasher", Race yawned, and Waves realized he might've been sleeping. Guilt flooded him faster than a flood, despite it being two in the afternoon.

"Sorry for waking you", he apologized, opening the dishwasher and finding the stackable measuring cups. Race chuckled.

"It's cool. I needed to get up, anyway." Waves still felt a little bad, but there some things that were a little more important than Racetrack's sleeping schedule. "Make sure you save me a glass, okay? I'll be there soon."

"'Kay", Waves mumbled, focused on grabbing the sugar from the top shelf. "Skitts is here, just so you know."

"Yeah, I figured. You guys have fun."

"Will do. Bye." He placed his phone back in his pockets at the sound of a dead beep, reaching farther for the sugar.

This is a house of either short or average height guys, how is the sugar up so high? Waves was scared he would pull a muscle.

A figure came up behind him and reached above, grabbing the pack of sugar and holding onto Waves waist to steady themself. Waves knew who this was, yet he still said, "Jesus?"

"Not even close, sweetheart", Skittery chuckled, turning his boyfriend around. "Hey. You left me."

"You fell asleep", Waves rolled his eyes, crossing his arms against his chest. "I had a burst of energy, so I came in here."

Skittery hummed, looking around at the kitchen. "What are we making today?"

He didn't mean 'we' in a literal sense. Skittery didn't have much of a sweet tooth, and when he tried to make lemonade— Kool-Aid, anything that requires more sugar— it was bitter and tasted like colored water. He's never made drinks for a group of people ever since.

"I am making lemonade", Waves smiled, moving past his boyfriend quickly. "Do we have lemons?"

"Some in the fridge and maybe a few on the lemon tree." Waves nodded and placed the pitcher in the sink, grabbing the lemon squeezer. He made sure to have an easily washable cup as well, just to make sure when he pours the juice in there, via a process to get the seeds out, he wouldn't have to stress about the cup being sticky and dirty. "Need anything else?"

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