#i also mixed in a bit from araiz's drawings...you'll see how :D

[quicksiluers]

for the writing prompts, maybe…48 (could be college rather than high school?) or 23? no need to do both, pick whichever gets the words flowing! (and Grant/Sherman for the ship, unless you’d rather write something else lol, I don’t much mind)

so I went with 23. meeting on the train au, but I love 48 as well so I think I MAY write something for that?? I'll keep you posted!

Once again, I went overboard...cause why not, it's what I do best. Under the cut, hope you enjoy! (and yeah it's Grant/Sherman, I'm on a roll with them so why not lol)

“Folks, we appreciate your patience during this time. Our crew is working hard to fix the issues we seem to be having with the controls. We’re estimating another half hour before we start moving again…”

Grant sighed, gazing out the window. The leaves of the trees were slowly starting to change over from deep green to a smattering of orange, yellow, and red. Some of them blew off their branches, dance like in the wind as they spun around. His eyes followed them as they blew further away before they were lost to him. If he was resulting to watching leaves being pushed around, then Grant knew he was truly bored out of his mind.

Normally, the train was more reliable than this. He had been riding this same line for years and never once had any issues. There was a first time for everything of course. Luckily it was for a trip where he wasn’t in too much of a rush. As much as he wanted to see his family, he didn’t mind a small delay in having to confront another issue with his father. He could already play out the scenario in his head and was exhausted by the idea of it.

Something poking him in the shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, “Hey, do you know if the outlet is working?”

“I believe so,” Grant looked down at his phone, noticing the little charge symbol still over his battery. His eyes caught the brown ones looking back at him, his fellow passenger with a scowl on his face. Either he looked like that all the time or the wait was making the redhead impatient.

It could be a mix of both.

“It is, let me just…,” pulling his charger from the outlet, he held out his hand to the other man, “I can plug it in for you.”

“Thanks,” the other man muttered, “Can’t believe we’re stuck sitting here like this…”

The plug was passed over to him and quickly Grant pressed it into the outlet. He had seen the redhead a few times on the train before. It was hard to miss him. Going to school in DC as he did, it still was rare to see someone with such red hair. He liked it, though he wouldn’t tell his fellow passenger that. He’d think he was some type of creep.

“Well, hopefully, they can get it fixed.”

Scoffing slightly, the ginger raised his eyebrow at him, like the idea of that happening was foolish, “Do you really think they will? I’ll bet it takes another hour.”

Grant frowned at that, the other man’s tone striking a nerve, “Well I think it’ll be a half-hour like they said. Care to make a bet on it?”

Amusement flashed in the stranger’s brown eyes, “What’re we betting?”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want from the dining cart.”

“I have a better idea,” the redhead grinned, “What stop are you getting off at?”

Confused, but unwilling to back down, Grant replied, “New York City.”

The other man’s grin grew, “So am I. Whoever wins has to buy the other one’s dinner. At any place of their choosing.”

“Is there a price limit on this?”

“Why?” He crossed his arms smugly, “Think you’re going to lose?”

The stranger was pushing buttons. Grant stared at him, trying to see past the overconfidence, “Just want to make sure I don’t run you dry when you lose.”

Laughing, the other man put out his hand, “Funny. Fine, how about $50?”

“Seems fair,” he grabbed the other hand, giving it a firm shake, “Grant, by the way.”

“Sherman,” the grin stayed in place, looking down at his phone, “We’ll have to wait and see. Just know that I like spicy food, so hopefully, you can handle that.”

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“I still can’t believe those assholes fixed it that fast.”

Grant bit into his noodles, covering up the grin on his face. His new friend had been cursing about losing for over an hour.

About five minutes after their bet, the conductor came back over the speakers and said everything was back up and running, much to the delight of the other passengers. Grant kept his face neutral as he watched Sherman’s drop, much to his delight. It wasn’t often that the things he bet on won out in the end.

There was a ramen spot he always stopped at when he was in the city. When he had mentioned it to Sherman, the taller man tried to not be too pouty about it, making Grant laugh.

“Well, maybe next time you’ll have more faith in them,” he teased, mixing over the noodles, trying to absorb more of the flavor into them. Though tempted to find a more expensive spot, he knew better than to be boastful about his win. Any free meal was a good mean in his book, “It is their job.”

Slurping loudly, the redhead grumbled something under his breath that Grant didn’t catch. He rolled his eyes before digging into his food again, savoring the simple flavors. His eyes caught Sherman’s hand going for the spices again and he shook his head, “How can you even eat anything with that much spice?”

“I should be asking how you can eat something with such mundane flavors,” Sherman countered, catching himself at the annoyed expression on Grant’s face. He sprinkled a few more flakes onto the noodles, “I mean…I just don’t understand how you don’t like any spices.”

“I like some,” objected Grant, “They just can’t be…too spicey.”

“Which defeats the purpose,” Sherman pointed out, emphasizing it with his chopsticks, “The spice gives it a rich flavor! And there are so many different kinds, combining them makes anything better. You’re missing out.”

Grant frowned, eyes flickering over to the spices on the table. Why was it bothering him? He barely even knew this guy! People always teased him about his lack of taste before and it never bothered him. But it was different with Sherman, though he couldn’t place why.

Reaching out, he grabbed the container and sprinkled it on top of the remaining noodles. Mixing the flakes in, Grant gathered up a good portion of the noodles and stuck them in. It didn’t seem too bad…

Sherman stared at him, his eyes slightly wide, “Oh shit Grant, you really…”

That determination he prided himself in melted away quickly. His mouth felt like it was on fire, the flavor overwhelming, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to choke or suffering finishing up the food. Quickly, he swallowed the rest, his throat burn as they went down. Grant began to cough into his elbow, squeezing his eyes shut as the burning sensation found its way to his chest.

A glass was pushed into his hand and without even looking he brought it up to his lips, swallowing the contents. It took him a second to realize it wasn’t water, but milk. The pain slowly ebbed away, his tongue still tingling.

A low whistle brought him out of his heat-related pain. Grant looked up, watching Sherman thank a waiter before turning back and looking at him with that dumb smile on his face, “You weren’t kidding about that lack of tolerance.”

He couldn’t tell if it was from the heat of the spice or the rush of embarrassment that made his cheeks burn. Grant grabbed a napkin, whipping his nose with it while glaring at Sherman, “You could have mentioned it was really hot.”

“Hey don’t blame me cause you went all gun-ho with that,” Sherman held his hands up, trying hard not to laugh, “I didn’t dump all of that spice on your food.”

Abandoning the rest of his food, there was no way in he was going to finish it now, the two got up and paid, leaving the restaurant behind. The cool fall air refreshed Grant as they walked along the sidewalk, his tongue still tingling from the awful sensation. The pair walked in silence, the constant city noises filling the void.

“Hey,” Sherman pointed out, grabbing Grant’s arm lightly, “there’s an ice cream place over there. Let me make it up to you since you didn’t get to finish your food.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Grant reasoned, “I was the one who did it.”

“I insist,” the redhead replied, stepping in front of him. Grant’s eyes gazed up at him, furrowing his eyebrows. He hoped he didn’t make Sherman feel bad about what happened. It was just a dumb, spur-of-the-moment decision on his part.

A screeching horn made them jump closer together, heads whipping around toward the noise. The drivers were cursing at each other, one of them shaking their fists, before speeding off on the green light.

Typical New York City, Grant thought, laughing to himself. He felt himself pressed up against something warm and quickly realized how close he was to Sherman. Heat rushed to his face, embarrassment taking over, “Sorry, didn’t realize the car horn made me so…”

Looking anywhere but the redhead, he went to step back when he felt the grip on his arms tighten. Grant froze, looking down at Sherman’s hand. His head felt like it was spinning out of control, emotions all over the place.

“It’s fine…”

Their eyes locked, the noises of the city life around them fading away. Grant wasn’t sure who made the first move but it didn’t matter when their lips came together, the redhead’s chapped slightly from the colder air. Tilting his head, Grant was overcome with a taste of spice that lingered in Sherman’s mouth. He felt his eyes close as he melted into the kiss, sighing softly when Sherman’s lips left his for a moment before taking them again. His hands slide under Sherman’s arms, gripping the back of his coat tightly. Another wave of warmth ran through him when he felt the ginger’s arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their noses bumped into each other, causing them to part.

Grant stared up at him, trying to catch his breath. Sherman’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, a pink hue covering his cheeks.

“…If that’s how you insist on ice cream, I guess I’ll have to say yes.”

The redhead stared down at him with a bewildered expression before laughing, leaning his forehead against Grant’s. Grant leaned back, trying to dig his hills into the cement to support the sudden weight, smiling. Their noses brushed briefly, Sherman lightly kissing again.

“I’m happy to hear it.”