More (Boyxboy)

Chapter Nine

A/N Disclaier- I have no fucking clue what realy cullinary school is like, so I'm just bullshitting a lot of this.

"You're studying again?" Joe asked when he spotted Michael at the dining room table, his laptop open in front of him. "No no no. Come kill zombies with us".

"Why do you sound so disappointed in me?" Michael asked, raising his gaze from the screen of his laptop. "I'm doing what people our age are supposed to do".

"No," Joe protested, looking completely horrified by the idea. "People are age are supposed to drink and smoke and have sex and go to parties and play video games".

"I do all of those things," Michael pointed out. "Some of them I do more than you do".

"Very funny Michael," Joe responded, eyes narrowed. "You're really not going to play video games with us?"

"I really can't. I have a presentation tomorrow and it'll be super embarrassing if I get up there and don't know what I'm doing. Besides, I spent all day with you guys". It was the first time in awhile that Michael had dedicated his entire morning and afternoon to spending time with his brothers, and while he enjoyed it, and felt a little more like himself again, he really needed to be prepared to teach in the morning.

"Uhh, fine," Joe groaned, leaving the doorway to move into the dining room. "Where's Ian though? I want some kind of snack when we play".

"You just ate dinner," Michael pointed out, watching as Joe pressed the button on the wall that alerted the back room that the chef was needed. Each of their houses staff had a different sound they were supposed to report to. Michael rarely pressed the buttons himself, but they were often utilized by his parents and Joe. "Also, you ate all of the mousse he made".

"That's because it was delicious," Joe defended, bracing his hands on the counter and leaning forward enough that his feet left the ground. "Where the hell is he?"

"Give him a minute". Michael looked down at the screen of his laptop again, watching the cursor blink at the end of the word document. He was working on his lesson plan for his Education exam, reviewing what he had already planned and adding and removing small bits and pieces. It would be fine, he was sure– teaching was his passion– but he also risked being removed from the student teaching program in the upcoming fall semester if he failed.

At the counter, Joe whined pathetically before beginning to stab his finger into the button repeatedly in his impatience. "I really want-"

"Stop that," Michael scolded. "You're being rude".

"What's rude is being paid to serve people and then not being there to serve them," Joe shot back and Michael rolled his eyes. In response, Joe finally stopped pressing the button, but only to turn and point an accusing finger in his direction. "Stop thinking mean things about me!"

"Well, you're kind of being a douche," Michael pointed out, though he wasn't surprised by the behavior. He had long since grown used to the entitlement of his brothers, especially Joe. With a frustrated little huff, Joe opened his mouth to give him a piece of his mind.

"Such harsh words," Ian interrupted from the doorway connecting the hall to the kitchen. They both looked at him, and he smiled warmly. "Sorry I wasn't here. Your father asked me to bring his dinner up to him at seven so I was upstairs doing that".

"Oh, I-" Joe began, cutting off when he caught sight of Michael's I told you so expression. "Michael, I swear to god-"

"No need for that," Ian said calmly, moving into the kitchen. "What would you like to eat, Joe? If you want something that I don't already have made you're going to have to wait a little bit because I still need to eat dinner". Joe's nose wrinkled slightly, and he looked about ready to say something unpleasant, so Michael cut in quickly before he could be embarrassed by his brother.