Breakfast with Bob
“'Morning Red!”
He grunted in response, not really looking up from his cereal as Blake plodded into the kitchen.
“Grape Nuts again?” he observed, the cubboard squeaking as he swung it open. “You eat the same thing every morning, don't you?”
Red looked up at his roommate, who was raiding the cabinets in not but a pale blue set of boxers and his baseball cap. It was a sight which made him sigh and look back to his food, scooping another bite.
“Guess I can't really say much though. It's always poptarts for me.” He held the box above his head, victorious, and trotted over to the toaster.
Red looked up, wondering passively what flavor he was eating today. Green liked poptarts, and it would keep him from having to buy more for him if they were a decent flavor.
As Blake spun back around from the toaster, it was not pastries that caught Red's eye. No. It was an extra visitor, one he didn't need to see this early in the morning.
He wandered over the table and leaned over it near Red, digging through the pile of newspapers, bringing his problem obnoxiously close.
At this stage, Blake's halfmast morning wood was bobbing, thankfully covered but still apparent, just a couple of feet from Red's hands and thus cereal. He cringed and pulled his cereal closer to him, tilting his head to try and keep his hat in the way of the awful sight.
It wasn't working very well.
“You okay?” he asked, watching his roommate recoil, oblivious to the source of his terror. Red simply nodded stiffly. “If you say so.”
He shrugged and leaned back up off the table, tossing the comic section he'd retrieved onto the other side of the table. Just as he started to turn miserably back into view, the toaster popped and he turned back to it, leaving Red to sigh in belief.
A moment later, the fridge opened. “Oh good, we've got OJ again. You want some, Red?”
He shook his head, not looking up.
“Well, I'm having some OJ. Maybe that's why you're not feeling well though. You probably need more fruit. I only ever see you eat... well, breakfast, now that I think about it.”
Red didn't want to think about it. He wanted to eat his breakfast faster and get out of the room, but he was losing his appetite with every bob.
“Oh good god man!” came Ethan's voice from behind the kitchen table, and Red thought his savior had come. “I just bought that OJ, don't drink it all before I even get any!”
He doubted Ethan was as shameless or clueless, but looking up and seeing another of his roommates shirtless was more than enough for Red for the morning, who quickly got up, shuffled over to the sink, cleaned his dishes, and strode out of the room, all before the other boys had finished arguing about who drank the whole carton last time.
“Dude, what's his problem.”
“I don't know. Guess he's just too good for us,” Blake chuckled. “Just means more poptarts for us!”
“Oh man, strawberry! I love you man.”