Stay Inside (by my Side) : Gream/DreamNotFound

11. Pine

Although George agreed to pay off some of Clay's bills, the tenancy agreement they lived under stated that no guests are allowed to live in the apartment unless they were present at move-in and provided all necessary documents. Needless to say, George had no such documents, and in order to keep the landlord away, the two had to split their usage of water and internet down the middle. What this primarily meant was that hot water ran out faster and therefore needed to be conserved, and Clay couldn't just pay more to have it running for longer because it would look suspicious on his usage report.

When he explained all this to George, the Brit shrugged and fully agreed to the terms.

"That means we have to try and do all our laundry in one big heap," Clay added, leaning on the kitchen table.

"That's fine," George confirmed again.

With a nod, Clay pushed off the table and prepared breakfast, after which he took his usual seat across from George.

George considered the laundry issue, trying to remember how many clean clothes he had left and whether or not it would be enough to last until wash day.

"We should bake the bread today," he said, finishing his breakfast.

"Alright," Clay said, already pulling up a list of recipes, "but we have to start soon; it's a long process."

"What kind do you prefer?" George asked, tossing his dishes in the sink.

"Hmm," Clay sang, "I'll pick whatever's easiest to prepare."

"Boring," George said, "I would have gone for a nice sourdough. Or rye!"

"George, we don't have those kinds of ingredients," Clay laughed, still scrolling, "all I bought last night was yeast."

"White bread for a white boy..." George mumbled, curling his lip in disappointment.

Clay wheezed from behind him.

The two began the baking process by unpacking all their ingredients and shoveling pots and pans out of the oven. It was early in the morning, and the two had an entire day to bake.

They followed the recipe to their best ability, taking advantage of the spacious kitchen as they laid out all the ingredients and cookware. Clay was in charge of reading the directions, and George took it upon himself to do most of the mixing. An hour or so passed, and they stopped for a breather as they covered the dough to proof.

"It's like our child," George said, peering at the lump of dough through a layer of plastic wrap.

"What the hell-" Clay laughed, combing his hair with his fingers. George giggled at his own stupidity and turned around, leaning against the counter and exhaling.

They had been working nonstop for a while, and now they had time to chill while the yeast did its thing.

"I saw you bought cake mix, too," Clay said, replicating George's stance at the counter.

"It's brownie mix," George corrected with a smile.

"You wanna make that too, while we're here?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

Clay bent down and pulled a bowl and whisk out of a cupboard while George scoured the fridge. Once again, the boys got to work.

Their teamwork was unmatched, and they had the brownies mixed in under 10 minutes.

The batter was a rich and creamy brown, and as Clay folded it around the bowl, he lifted the spatula and brought it to his mouth.

George stuck his hand out and stopped Clay's motion before he could put any on his tongue.