“Good morning, boys!” Nicole called from the kitchen. “Coffee is ready.” She poured two mugs and walked past the fold-out sofa and into her bedroom.
The boys were in a groggy daze as they sat up in bed.
“I need to piss like a racehorse,” Francisco said as he got up and pulled on his shirt. He walked toward the bathroom. He decided he would not address last night. “Alberto is objectively attractive,” he thought to himself, “plus he is so sweet and comforting. There’s nothing gay about that. I’m over it.”
Upon returning from the bathroom he found the sofa uninhabited. He started making up the bed and folding it away. Alberto was in the kitchen pouring coffee but his pants were still in the living room.
“How do you take your coffee, Frankie?” Alberto asked.
“Black, please. Thanks.”
Alberto joined Francisco who was now sitting on he couch in his boxers and t-shirt. Alberto was still wearing only his jock, his perky ass bared to Francisco. Francisco bent to pull on his pants in a thinly veiled attempt at hiding his hardening dick before it peeked through the fly of his boxers.
“What’s on TV?” Alberto asked. “Maybe we can find some Saturday morning cartoons.”
“Don’t you watch the news in the morning?”
“Why? The news is boring! Cartoons! They are fun!”
Francisco couldn’t beat the logic. Of course, he’d have to catch up on the news later. As soon as he charged his phone, he would pull up Drudge Report on his phone and get his news fix.
Katharine and and Nicole entered the room unnoticed by the boys as they drank their coffee and watched an episode of The Fairly OddParents.
“Let’s do brunch!” Nicole said, startling to the boys who still had not realized she had joined them in the living room. “Then we can get our shit together and figure out the rest of the day.”
“Where?” Katharine asked.
Alberto suggested they go to Headhunters but the appeal of bottomless mimosas sold the group on Capitol Garage.
The brunch was uneventful except for the good food, poor service, and the ability of the foursome to test the limits of bottomless drinks. The four sat at table on the patio where they watched people suffering hangovers stumble like zombies on their way home or to retrieve cars left behind the night before.
After finishing their food (and putting away two more round of mimosas) the four decided it was time to part company. They walked up K to find their way home.
As they approached K and 18th, a bicyclist passed the group going the opposite direction. His lean, spandex-clad body caught the collective attention of the group. Each turned their heads just in time to watch the distracted cyclist run directly into a parked car and fall from his bike.
“It’s not the first time my ass has stopped traffic!” Alberto proclaimed as she shook his butt.