--- -. . chapter one . -. ---186Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbNpfC7isTB
⠎⠞⠁⠗⠞186Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyvNcH2fmGg
“Can I get two number fives and a diet soda!” Some woman yelled into the speaker.
“That’ll be 12.75 at the window.”
Kyle mashed some buttons on his register with one hand, texting with the other. He heard the telltale buzz of the order reaching the make line and caught a disappointed sigh from Mitchell. The woman reached the window and Kyle quickly took her cash and handed her the change, all without paying her any attention, still texting. He directed her to the next window and rolled his eyes at her displeased huff, slamming the window shut. His phone buzzed again, a new incoming text. “Can you bring me some fries?” He huffed a laugh and shouted to Mitchell.
“Hey! Make Jack a thing ‘a fries!”
“‘Kay.” Mitchell called back.
The box of fries was tossed together and off to the side for Kyle to retrieve. Kyle stood from his chair, grabbing up the fries and walking to the back of the store. He pulled open the door of the walk-in refrigerator and smirked at the sight; the Clown Prince of Crime sat atop cardboard boxes, clothes torn up and an ice pack over an ugly black eye. He held back a snicker at the glare he received and handed Jack the fries.
“Feelin’ any better, boss?”
“Do I look any better?”
“Nope.”
Kyle popped the end of his retort and spun on his heel, closing the fridge door behind him. Joker had been in another tiff with Batman before seeking shelter in store. Kyle had found it hysterical. A notorious psychopath seeking solace in a BatBurger franchise after getting his ass kicked and having the Bat tell him he wasn’t his arch nemesis. Not only had Joker once again been foiled but he’d been broken up with, too. Kyle rolled his eyes at the drive-through headset beeping at him, alerting him to another customer.
“Thank you for choosing BatBurger.”
“Hey, Kyle! Gimme just a second.”
Oh great, the Hive Five. Little gremlins always acted like Kyle was their friend. They went to school together, that’s where it ended, besides Kyle was in college now. They finally got their order settled and placed and Jinx pouted when he told her she couldn’t hex his boss for not stocking barbeque sauce. Mitchell sidled up to him at the register.
“Hanging out with teenagers again, Kyle?”
“I fucking hate those shits.”
“Damn, dude, they’re not that bad.”
“You didn’t have to see them every day for five years.”
Mitchell shot a finger gun at Kyle, asserting that Kyle was, in fact, correct. The drive-through rang again and Mitchell stuck around while Kyle took the order.
“You have food to make, Mitch.”
“Yeah, yeah. We should bounce once they get their shit. The Bat’s gonna get here sooner or later and I don’t wanna get tagged for harbouring a criminal.”
“Good point.”
Kyle grabbed his keys and phone, shoving his hands in his pockets as he made way to the office. He popped his head in as his manager tried to hide their boredom.
“Mitch and I are leaving.”
“Oh, I thought you were scheduled for-“
“Bye.”
Kyle ran his time sheet and made his way to the employee parking where Mitchell was already waiting beside the car, teeth chattering in the cold air. Kyle clicked the unlock button and climbed into the car, quickly cranking the heater. He gave the car a moment to warm up before heading towards home. Just as they rounded the corner to the main road, Mitchell knocked against the window. There was the Batmobile, in all its glory, with two police cruisers in tow.
“I kinda feel for Jack, ya know? I mean, he’s been fighting Batman for years and the dude tells him he’s not his arch nemesis? Shady shit.”
“It’s kinda funny seeing him all mopey ‘bout it.” Kyle smirked.
“Aw, come on man, it's like a bad breakup.”
Kyle’s smile widened and he chuckled a bit as Mitchell clicked his tongue and shook his head. Maybe Kyle was having a little much fun with it. What could he say, he was tired of the painted fucker parading around his success as a villain. He gets all the glory with the big dogs while dudes like Mitchell, while being dumber than a box of rocks, get the short end of the stick. Mitchell was turned around backwards in his seat, watching as Batman stormed into the store, he looked almost in awe.
“Why does everyone have a thing for Batman?”
“Um, because he’s Batman?” Mitchell sounded incredulous. “He’s the best superhero this side of the US.”
“Sure, but there’s plenty of other heroes.”
“Name one hero cooler than Batman.”
“...Wonder Woman.”
“Dude,” Mitchell laughed, “she’s a girl.”
Kyle was near speechless.
“You’re kidding, right? She helped found the Justice League-“
“Dude, think about it. Does anyone say “oh no it's Harley Quinn!” No. It's about the Joker.” Mitchell shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, but it's true. The public doesn’t see them do anything, especially when Batman shows up and steals the show.”
Kyle couldn’t argue, he’s watched the news too many times to deny it. Female heroes got shafted way too often; Wonder Woman had just helped Superman with a situation and she wasn’t even in the headline. Kyle got distracted at the red light, watching in the rearview mirror as Joker was carted away in an Arkham van, his face looked muddy. Probably got beat up again.
“You think Batman ever gets tired of having to put Joker away?” Mitchell asked, still backwards in his seat.
“I’d love to wipe the smile off that creep’s face. I wish he’d stop showing up at our job.”
“You really hate the guy don’t you?”
“I don’t like clowns anyway, but he’s the worst. Wouldn’t put anything past him.”
Mitchell shrugged in a half agreement. Joker was a creep, duh. But Harley seemed to adore the guy, even though Pam was always inviting her to run away together. Speaking of, he and Kyle could see the sliding glass door of Pamela Isley’s apartment open; she stayed just across the way from their apartment complex. Kyle grimaced at the old beater parked in his parking spot (again) as he pulled up beside it. He could barely see the driver inside through all the smoke and tried to resist giving the guy an ugly look as Mitchell jogged ahead of him. His roommate jingled his keys at Kyle, a show to signal he had remembered them today as he unlocked the door. Kyle gave him two short claps, pushing him out of the now open doorway. Kyle glanced around as Mitchell wandered to his bedroom, rambling about dinner plans. Something was slightly off, more off than usual with his scatterbrained roommate. He was visually scanning the living room when he spotted an envelope carefully tucked into the ratty notebooks on his makeshift half desk, half coffee table. The delicate script on the front read his name, it felt somewhat thick. He tore it open a bit quickly and made a disgruntled face at the multiple dollar notes inside. It was from Malik, his honorary caretaker and, as Mitchell distastefully put it, Kyle’s sugar daddy. Kyle would have to go see him later in order to thank him for his generous offer and to try and force it back at him. Mitchell and Kyle were adults and were more than capable of taking care of themselves, overdue bills or otherwise. The late evening found the boys men eating Chinese takeout on the sofa. Kyle was focused on the television newscast while Mitchell continued commenting and mocking the reporters.
“You always gotta watch this crap every night, huh?”
“It’s good to keep up with recent events.”
“You just wanna see Lizzy.”
Kyle slung the remote at Mitchell, who yelped and rubbed at his shoulder. He should know by now not to tease Kyle about his television crush. Elizabeth Harlow was a real bitch off camera, Kyle had met her a few times, usually after reporting on the university. She used to report on the whereabouts and story of former esteemed professor, Jonathan Crane. However, she was currently talking about Joker’s recent escape and more recent re-admittance to Arkham. Her blonde curls bounced around as she tried to flag down a passing Arkham nurse, asking about how they planned to contain the villain this time. The nurse looked annoyed, choosing not to comment and rushing off to their duties.
“Well, folks, you can take that as a warning. No new plans for containment, meaning the Joker will probably escape yet again.”
“She asked one person! Who was clearly busy!” Mitchell exclaimed.
Kyle chuckled, getting a kick out of Mitchell’s reaction. He looked at the clock, noting the late hour. Malik should be home by now. Used to be that Kyle would pop over whenever he wanted, but after moving out, Malik had become a bit apprehensive to unexpected guests in his home. Kyle stretched into a stand, bidding a short goodnight to Mitchell before walking out to his car. There was a new dent in his door, he noticed, and burnt out bits of ash and paper on the hood. That’s what he gets for judging the pothead in his beater, he guessed.
⠠⠅⠽⠇⠑
The porch light was on at Malik’s house. It illuminated the mahogany door and it’s ornate knocker. It also meant that Malik was expecting him. As he approached he could see Malik’s cat, Moonbeam, inside, perking up as Kyle unlocked the door with the old key Malik had given him. He’d been barely seventeen back then, hiding from the world. He hung up his old hooded sweater beside Malik’s tweed coat; the whole entryway smelled like the professor. His name tag was still attached to the coat’s lapel: M. Roosevelt, History. There was a bulletin board on the nearby wall, Malik always left himself sticky notes there. His elegant handwriting was a welcome sight to Kyle.
Stop by Kyle’s apartment.
Buy cat litter.
Remember your gloves!
Get Kyle a new key.
Kyle wandered into the house, the cat perking up to act as his guide, as she normally did. He followed her upstairs and down the hallway to Malik’s office. He could hear the professor scratching away at papers, probably grading angrily at someone’s failed test. He peeked into the office, tentative as Moonbeam seemed a bit nervous to enter the room. Malik looked angry, waistcoat missing and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. Kyle had been correct, he was practically mauling someone’s essay with a red pen. Finally he’d seemed to have had enough, slamming the pen down and shaking his fists at the paper.
“I gave you six hours of lecture and you still couldn’t write a half decent paper?” Kyle jumped slightly at the volume, Malik didn’t usually shout. “What do I waste my time for!”
“Second week of class and someone’s already failing?”
Malik looked up, eyes wide in surprise. He hadn’t heard Kyle come in. Malik cleared his throat, straightening his shirt and smoothing his black hair into place.
“Sorry, Kyle, you’ll have to excuse my outburst. This kid has failed this class twice now, and he’s going for a third. It’s a required class for his degree.”
“Not your problem if he fails.” Kyle spoke, apathetic.
“Well, technically it is. But I won’t bore you with my idiot students. How are you, love?”
Kyle rolled his eyes, cheeks flushing as Malik pulled him into a hug, his hand stroking Kyle’s sandy brown hair gently.
“Fine. I found the money you left so I figured I should stop by.”
“Will that be enough to cover your bills?”
“I already had some money set aside for-”
“Rubbish, you don’t need to waste your income on that. That’s what I’m here for.” Malik punctuated his statement with a warm smile.
“I’m an adult, Malik, I can pay my bills.”
“You’ll always be my sunshine, though. So you’ll take the money and stop arguing.” There was an edge to his voice that Kyle felt inclined to avoid.
Kyle followed as Malik waved him along to the bedroom across the hall, Kyle’s old bedroom, he recognized. There were a few belongings there, still. Some older sets of clothes and his old bed frame that Malik let him use. He was distracted by the polaroid pictures taped to a mirror. Most of them had been taken by Malik; Kyle only smiled for one. It was taped to the uppermost portion of the glass, half obscured by another of a sleeping Malik. Kyle smirked at that one, remembering how freaked out Malik had been after waking up to Kyle standing over him with a camera. It was Kyle’s favourite picture. Malik snapped him out of his memories with a happy exclamation. The older man had been digging through the fine, wooden dresser and was now holding up a pair of designer slacks. They’d barely been worn, aside from Kyle’s high school graduation.
“See if these still fit, and I bought you a shirt yesterday that should fit just fine.”
“What is this for?” Kyle was holding the pants like they were diseased.
“Well, sunshine,” Malik chuckled, “you’ll need to dress well for the award ceremony tomorrow.”
“What ceremony?”
“The board of directors is awarding some professors for their contributions to society.” The end of that had some sass to it.
“And I have to go, why?”
“Elizabeth Harlow will be there.”
Kyle exhaled through his nose and wordlessly ducked into the adjoining bathroom to change. He yanked the slacks on, annoyed, and tried to grimace at how they still fit him. He’d barely grown since Malik had bought them. They were just shy of being too short, but it was passable. Malik knocked once before walking in and accessing the fit. He scoffed and yanked the waistband up and around so the pants would sit correctly. Pleased, he placed the folded dress shirt on the sink vanity. 186Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN0q9JQeFzr
186Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLDj7eVkwIQ
“Try it on together. And wear it correctly, please. Goodness.”
Kyle groaned dramatically, yanking the buttons open and shrugging the shirt on over his t-shirt. He shoved the hem into the slacks and threw his arms out to the side.
“There. I look stupid.”
“You look like a gentleman. Stop it.”
Malik swatted at Kyle’s fingers digging into the collar. He straightened the shirt and tugged at the shoulders, double checking the fit. He mumbled something about not having a jacket, but waved off the thought, approving the outfit and allowing Kyle to change back into his jeans.
“I should be at the travesty you call a job around two o’clock. You’ll have plenty of time to change before the actual ceremony. Then we can sneak you off to meet Miss Harlow.”
Kyle didn’t argue as he knew he didn’t have a chance. And he did want to see the blonde again.
⠠⠅⠽⠇⠑
Work had been supremely uneventful, aside from Mitchell nearly fighting a customer who called him Condom King. Kyle had found it funny, no one else did. Malik parked around the back and sent Kyle a text, since he was no longer allowed to enter the building, per Kyle’s request.
“You’re going to a party?” Mitchell said, incredulously.
“It’s not a party, it’s an award thing for the university.”
“You don’t even go to college!”
He denied Mitchell an explanation and quickly dropped into Malik’s passenger seat. He gave his friend a short wave as he saw them off quickly.
“Mayo looks well.” Malik commented.
“Yeah, he’s been behaving.”
Malik gestured to the back seat where Kyle’s outfit for the night sat folded on the seat, a pair of dress shoes on the floorboard. He recognized the shoes as the pair Malik didn’t often wear; he was sure they’d fit. He tossed his BatBurger polo in the back, shrugging into the lilac dress shirt. He shimmied out of his blue jeans and Malik scoffed.
“You could just wait until we get there.”
“I don’t want to run into any students of yours.”
“Kyle, it’s a university-wide event.”186Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3smbwxIZf6
“Well, you didn’t tell me that!”
“I assumed you were smart enough to know! It doesn’t matter if my students are there, anyway.” Malik shrugged.
“It matters if Tiffany is there.”
“Oh, Kyle.” Malik bemoaned. “Tiffany is just a stupid girl, she poses no threat.”
Kyle scowled at her name in Malik’s voice. If there was one person he hated more than Joker it was Tiffany Yudiski. She had tried her hand at Malik a few too many times, even despite Kyle’s threats of bodily harm. She was a high standing student in Gotham University’s Nursing program. She was pretty enough, with her long legs and perky… smile. Kyle hated her. He hated how much she pined for Malik. He hated how she really thought she could have him. The bitch.
Malik tapped Kyle’s knee, breaking his thoughts before they got violent. He pointed past the window where Kyle could see some photographers and a van for the Channel 9 News. Past that, Kyle could see those blonde curls he always saw on television. Her majesty Elizabeth Harlow was currently scowling at some other reporter, her compact mirror in hand. The reporter tried to hand her something and Harlow swatted it from their hand, turning and stalking off in her sparkly high heels. She looked beautiful.
“She’s so beautiful.”
“She’s a menace.” Malik looked unimpressed.
He took Kyle’s elbow in hand as the younger was too infatuated with watching his crush to pay attention to the walkway. The ceremony was full of suits, Kyle complained. An ocean of people he didn’t care about but Malik seemed keen to show him off as his pseudo-son. The opening stand around seemed to drag on for ages; there was free food though. Kyle was just about to ask Malik what escargot was and why it was so good when he heard the worst sound of his life.
“Oh my gosh, Mr. Roosevelt!”
Tiffany.
“Behave.” Malik hissed at Kyle, turning to the voice. “Miss Yudiski! How nice to see you.”
Kyle resisted the urge to attack as Tiffany threw herself at Malik, hugging him. She was bouncing on her heels and blabbering excitedly about how she hoped he received an award this year. He gets one every year. Kyle declined to comment, even as she noticed him and gave him a once over. She continued talking about Malik, to Malik, about things he already knew. About how great a teacher he was and how educated he was and how handsome he was. Kyle pressed in closer to Malik’s arm as she tried batting her lashes at him. Malik seemed to notice, placing a hand between Kyle’s shoulder blades soothingly. Kyle’s patience was waning as Tiffany seemed to notice his distaste at her fond conversation. She kept smiling at him with her obnoxiously bright teeth and big, brown eyes. Malik suddenly spoke up.
“Well, Tiffany, I’m terribly sorry but I promised to introduce Kyle to someone before the ceremony.”
She barely got out her goodbye before Kyle was dragging the other man along by his coat. Malik swatted at his tight fist and turned them, leading him off to a table, far from where Tiffany would be. A few students there seemed to recognize him, though they didn’t stop to chat. Malik forced Kyle into a chair beside him at the table where a few older professors joined. They ignored him, choosing instead to talk to Malik about the current group of freshmen students they were struggling with.
“They just don’t care. It’s all because of that online school they had to do when the campus got gassed by Crane.” One said.
“That was only three weeks, Sherman. I think it’s because there’s no teacher to put that fear in ‘em, like Crane did.” Said another.
“Well he’ll certainly put it in ‘em now.” A third spoke.
Kyle laughed, no one else did. Malik patted his knee when Kyle flushed red.
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They were about halfway through the awards when Malik elbowed Kyle awake. He sat up straight, noting how everyone seemed to be looking at them as Malik straightened his jacket and stood. He gave a wave and a short bow, heading towards the small stage. Kyle followed with the crowd’s applause, somewhat embarrassed. A voice behind him picked up near his shoulder.
“Most acclaimed professor.”
“Acclaimed?”
“He knows what he’s doing.” The voice chuckled.
Kyle nodded towards them in thanks and tried to suppress a smile. Malik looked genuinely happy and a bit surprised as he shook hands with the school’s president and accepted the glass award. He glanced behind him as someone tapped his shoulder. A woman smiled at him, her name tag read B. Gordon, she pointed towards the other end of the stage, when Malik would exit. She suddenly gave him a small shove, waving him towards the stage. He got the hint, quickly standing and jogging over as Malik headed towards the steps. Malik clapped an arm around his shoulders in a hug and led him back towards their table. His colleagues shook his hand, congratulating him and looking at Kyle with a newfound kindness. The rest of the event went by quickly as people stopped by the table with congratulations. Tiffany tried to parade her way over, but was cut off by a group of other students, to which Kyle grinned. Miss Gordon tapped at Malik’s shoulder and whispered something to him. He made a surprised expression and quickly turned to Kyle. He followed as Malik beckoned him on and out towards the front of the gymnasium they were in. Kyle picked up on their destination quickly as Malik seemed to abandon him where he stood.
Just ahead of him stood Elizabeth Harlow, who seemed to catch wind of him awkwardly standing and staring. He smiled at her, probably weirdly, and she raised an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat and took a few steps closer to her. The now setting sun backlit her figure, she looked more beautiful in person. Kyle held out a hand towards her.
“Hi, I’m Kyle. Love your reporting style.”
“Uh, hi, Kyle. Elizabeth Harlow.” She shook his hand gingerly.
“I watch your late night reports. You’re always no nonsense. I love it.”
“Cool.” She answered shortly.
“Your dress is nice. That’s a great colour on you.”
“Okay.” Elizabeth glanced down at her dress. “Thanks.”
Malik cleared his throat from behind Kyle, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him back gently.
“Have a lovely night, Miss Harlow.”
She didn’t respond as Malik dragged Kyle along towards the parking lot.
“I really don’t understand what you see in her. She wanted nothing to do with anyone that spoke to her.”
“Exactly.”
“What, so you like being ignored and rejected?”
“By her, yeah.”
Malik rolled his eyes and started the car, ignoring Tiffany as she waved at them from the sidewalk.
“I’m proud of you, Kyle, by the way.” Malik smiled at him. “You were very well behaved. And you didn’t scare Miss Harlow.”
Kyle suppressed a smile, feeling his chest flutter at the affirmation.
“I still wanted to maim Tiffany.”
“Yes, but you didn’t. That’s what matters.”
Malik reached over, patting Kyle’s knee again. Kyle stared for a moment at how Malik squeezed his knee a bit before retracting. There was a short moment of strange silence before Malik cleared his throat. He started up about some gossip he’d heard about the new psychology professor the university had hired. Kyle ignored it, staring at Malik’s profile. There was something different in that knee touch that he wasn’t very fond of. Malik had seemed a bit off since he picked Kyle up from work. He was clearly aware of Kyle’s staring as his eyes kept flitting towards him. They reached Malik’s house before Kyle could really notice where they were headed.
“So I’m not going home tonight?” He inquired.
“Well, I just thought that it was late and that, you know, you might be tired. Or hungry for a real meal after all those ritzy snacks.”
“What’s your deal here, Malik?”
“Absolutely nothing, why do you ask?”
“You’re being weird.”
“Am not.”
Kyle crossed his arms, squinting at Malik as he picked up Moonbeam and snuggled her.
“Moonbeam really misses you, you know. She’s been sleeping in your room while I’m in class.”
“She did that when I lived here.” It seemed to click then. “Malik.”
“What?” He and Moonbeam peered at Kyle.
“I am not moving back in.”
“Stay the night?” Malik gave him a sheepish smile.
“You’re like, hundreds of years old and you’re acting more like a kid than me.”
“I thought you were an adult.”
Kyle frowned at him and tried to stand his ground as Malik pouted at him. He turned away to hid his own flush and grimaced as Moonbeam mewed pathetically. Malik sighed dramatically.
“Well, Moonbeam, it’s just you and me again tonight. All alone in this big house-”
“Okay, fine. One night. You drive me home in the morning.”
Malik smiled and jogged to the stairs, taking them two at a time. Kyle dragged himself along, disappointed in himself for giving in so easily. He did feel kind of bad, admittedly. Malik lived alone for a long time before Kyle came along, but having the younger man around was nice, calming. Since Kyle had moved out, Malik felt lonely. Thus, he would occasionally convince Kyle to stay the night. Malik handed Kyle some lounge pants to change into and carefully folded his dress shirt and slacks. Kyle climbed onto the ottoman by the foot of the large bed. He waited until Malik emerged from the bathroom and saw him. The older man gave him a disapproving look. Just as he opened his mouth to complain, Kyle jumped and dove onto the bed, frightening Moonbeam from her perch on the pillows. Malik sighed through his nose and turned out the light. He pushed Kyle over to fit himself under the covers. His scowl turned to a smile as Kyle nuzzled into the downy covers.
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