Expect The Unexpected

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| E X P E C T T H E
U N E X P E C T E D |
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The two sat quietly beside one another, at Gwendolyn's kitchen table, as she stared—eyes never swaying from the quaking pair of teenagers. The sight she had walked in on, had her raising her eyebrows in anticipation for Blake's long-overdue excuse.

     But Blake had only sat there quietly, both bulging biceps crossed over his calm chest, as he waited for his mother to speak first. As he was more than adamant on not doing so.

     Brooks couldn't stand the tension, as he sat with a quirky smile being pointed toward Gwendolyn, who would only watch in amusement. But what had two been thinking, Brooks thought. When he two had began kissing, Gwendolyn was due home any second.

     And Blake knew this.

     "So," she began softly, leaning back in the kitchen tables wicker chair. "When did this become—a thing, that you do, B?"

     Blake shook his head in irritation, his tongue reaching out to lick at his drying lips that had been attached to Brooks, only minutes ago. "It really isn't a big deal, Ma."

     "Oh, really?" She raised both eyebrows toward Brooks once more, who went to answer, but was interrupted by a very much irritated Blake.

     "Yes, really. And how the hell are we supposed to explain it to you, if we don't even—"

     Gwendolyn cut him off shortly, with a firm affirmation of her authority. "Watch your mouth, Blake." His jaw clenched tightly, as he struggled to keep from mouthing off his mother, who had seemed more than ticked off, due to her twelve hour, or more shift at Luanne's.

     "Look," She began again, "you don't owe me, or anyone an explanation. I'm just surprised, is all. And I wanted to make sure," she looked over to Brooks, who had been pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth, furiously. "That you were a good kid. Seeing as you and my son have been friendly, and all."

     Brooks' cheeks let out a slight blush, as he buried his face into the crescent of the sweatshirt hiding his figure. Blake smiled at this, heart beginning its erratic assault at the scene of Brook seeming so shy about something so normal, nowadays.

     Gwendolyn watched the non-verbal interaction, not being able to stop the grin from climbing onto her full lips, that were much alike Blake's. "Alright, no more questions. You," she turned to Blake, "go shower, and get ready for the day—it's twelve. And you," she turned to Brooks, "wait here, Blake will drive you home, once he's dressed."

     Brooks nodded curtly at her demands, and Blake, too, didn't let out another argument or sigh of insignificance. This made Gwendolyn smile widen, even wider.

     As she slipped into her bedroom, Blake shook his head with an embarrassed chuckle, as he began apologizing for Gwendolyn's overbearing actions. "I'm sorry about her. She's just being a mom, you know?"

     Brooks nodded, although never really having any idea what that like personally. "Yeah, I know. You're lucky to have her."

     Blake's eyes darkened as he understood Brooks' quiet words. Having known exactly how much of a real mother and father Brooks was missing back in his own home. Which was another thing that hadn't hit either of them, until them.

     "Yeah," he reached out for Brooks' ear, and began caressing small crescent circles into the curl of it. "I know."

     Brooks began to nod off at Blake's endearment, but was awaken by the abrupt movement that came from the left of him, signaling the fact that Blake had finally gotten up for his daily shower.

     It was then, that Brooks began to familiarize himself with the thought of Blake's taunt back muscles once more, having not been able to remember them quite clearly from the lake.

     The same lake where Blake had left him—but that was another thing he chose to forget all about. That horrid memory being stored into the back, where all of Brooks' memories with Charles and Helena also hid.

     Although, not as peacefully.

     He sat quietly, until Blake emerged from the shower, a towel around his waist, and hair falling soaked around his forehead. He motioned Brooks over. "Come to my bedroom, while I get dressed."

     Brooks blushed at the thought of watching Blake dress, but was also thankful for the fact that Blake wasn't leaving him alone in he and Gwendolyn's kitchen, any longer.

     He followed silently behind Blake's talker figure, as Blake pushed him in front of him and into his bedroom, following right behind.

     As Blake dried his frizzy curls, he was careful not to let his towel fall, knowing just how uncomfortable that quick notion would make Brooks. If only Brooks knew he hadn't taken such frantic measures for any of the other people—all girls, he'd ever been with.

    And if only Blake had known, that Brooks had g been with anyone else—ever.

    "You're being awfully quiet over there," Blake joked, as Brooks chuckled at the fact that Blake's slight southern drawl, had been extremely prominent during the short sentence. "What?"

     "Nothing, nothing," Brooks continued to chuckle to himself, as Blake slid himself into boxers, without letting the towel fall. "It's just—you sounded extremely southern, when you said that."

     Blake shrugged, tossing the towel away, once his boxers had slid on. "What did you expect? For me to sound Californian?"

     Brooks chuckled even louder, him now being sure that Gwendolyn must have heard their jokes and giggles, by then. "No, no, I just never really noticed it before."

     With Blake now fully dressed, he walked over to Brooks, sliding his palms along Brooks' reddening cheeks. "You're a dork, and lets get you home."