one more for the road
Left, right, forward, left, back, right. It was like some kind of weird dance, the pattern was definitely repeating. Mohinder had watched Zane fidget in his seat over and over for the past thirty miles. Something was clearly bothering him but every time he was asked Zane just gave a sunny, and clearly forced, smile and said that everything was just fine.
He had played with the radio, inspected the contents of the glovebox, swirled patterns on the window condensation and fiddled with his watch strap. Now he was tapping a rhythm on his leg, a noise which ordinarily would barely register to Mohinder’s hearing. Right now it sounded like a 400 lb elephant seal slapping up and down a wet parking lot.
“Is that one?” Zane suddenly exclaimed. They had been looking for a diner for ages. The first one in 100 miles was closed down, and they had moaned with frustration at seeing the boards on the windows and the unhooked gas pumps.
By the time the signs appeared for the second one they were ravenous and obsessing over what they were going to order when they got there. As they finally passed the sign that said ‘services and diner next exit’ they actually cheered, giggling at their own juvenility. As they approached they saw that the place had burned to the ground and laughed uncontrollably at their bad luck.
Now it seemed their luck was changing. “Sunny Side Diner and Services, four miles”. Zane reported excitedly. “Yes!” Mohinder yelled, letting his head drop back and tapping the steering wheel. “I’m starving, I need coffee.”
“Hot chocolate, and cream. And ice cream, oh my God. And waffles. I want waffles.”
Mohinder smiled at Zane’s cuteness, he’d been talking about waffles for the past three hours. He glanced at the man’s fingers, fluttering in anticipation. As he looked up he saw Zane had caught him and smiled apologetically, not knowing what to say. They sat in silence until the neon of the diner striped across the wet windshield and Zane let out a quiet ‘yay!’
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as this diner.” Mohinder said as he pulled into a parking space. “I want to marry the waitress and just live here forever. I’ll give up genetics and become a waffle chef.”
Zane giggled, “Well, that would be a terrible waste.”
“Oh I don’t know, there are plenty of geneticists out there, not enough waffle chefs.”
“Hmm, I didn’t mean that part.” Zane whispered. He bit his lip, avoiding Mohinder’s gaze which he knew was on him. He got out of the car and stretched up dramatically, letting his shirt ride up. Mohinder’s eyes snapped to the toned muscles of Zane’s stomach and the relative slimness of his waist, for which Mohinder had a little kink. He turned quickly to walk into the diner, though now food was only the second thing on his mind.
As the smell of the coffee hit the two companions they looked at each other, wordlessly expressing their joy. The place was almost deserted, just the regulation truck driver sat at the counter. They went to a booth and sat opposite one another. It was a long time since they had been face to face and they spontaneously smiled at one another and then started to get the giggles. The toll of the drive had given them that tired silliness which soon makes way to sleep, and when the waitress came over they were too busy trying to stifle their laughter to even notice.
“What can I get you guys?” she chirped. “Do you wanna hear the specials?”
“I’d like waffles please. And do you have hot chocolate?”
“We do, do you want cream on both?”
“Yes please, and what else can I get on the waffles?” Zane was biting his lip again and his leg was twitching under the table like an excited child.
“You can have ice cream, chocolate sauce or strawberry sauce.”
“All three.” Zane asserted as Mohinder laughed.
“Okay then, and for you Sir?” she turned to Mohinder who was making a show of actually looking at the menu.
“I’ll have a black coffee and do you have cherry pie?”
“Sure, with cream or ice cream?” She looked at Zane, “Or both”.
“Cream, thankyou.”
She took their menus and spun round, skipping back to the kitchens. Zane looked at Mohinder and tilted his head. “So? Is she your type?”
“What?”
“You said you were going to move here and marry the waitress, so is she your type?”
Mohinder smiled. “No.”
“Why not? She’s cute! You don’t like brunettes?” Zane was fishing mercilessly. He had caught Mohinder looking at him, listened to him playing the pro-noun game when they talked briefly about exes. It was always “They weren’t ready for a commitment”, or “They said I was too focused on my career.” Never she. He had mentioned this Mira, but had been quick to point out that it was a relationship of convenience, and that soon after his ‘tastes changed’.
Mohinder went quiet. He didn’t know whether he was ready to have this conversation, but he couldn’t help wondering why Zane was bringing it up. Was he fishing for something? “No, I like brunettes just fine. I just er..”
Zane tried to be charitable. This conversation could wait, if it was making him uncomfortable. “Too…girly?” He looked at Mohinder, trying to transmit his true meaning.
“Yes.” Mohinder conceded. “Altogether too…girly.”
Zane nodded and as if on cue, the waitress arrived with their drinks. As she walked away Zane caught Mohinder’s eyeline again. “So if you’re not going to make a move on her, do you mind if I do?”
Mohinder froze with disappointment before Zane broke into a huge smile and they relaxed again. “Now that really would be a waste.”
Zane dipped a spoon in the turret of cream on his hot chocolate. “Oh I don’t know, maybe I could use my ability to melt the cheese on the burgers or something.”
Now it was Mohinder’s turn to be cute. “I didn’t mean that part.”
Zane didn’t look up but smiled, lifting the heaped spoon to his lips and eating the cream off it with a look of ecstasy. Mohinder watched him, marvelling at his ability to make a simple hot drink seem like an event. He felt so boring sipping at his black coffee while Zane was clearly having the time of his life. He watched him make an assessment on the amount of cream he had cleared from the top of the chocolate, returning two or three times to shave some more off. Eventually he took a drink, moaning as the hotness hit his tongue and the taste of the chocolate made his mouth water. When he lowered the cup Mohinder thought he would explode as he saw that Zane still hadn’t managed to avoid getting cream on the tip of his nose.
“Er, Zane?” Mohinder tapped his own nose, trying to hint.
Zane gave a quizzical look back. For God’s sakes Mohinder, I did that on purpose. Reach over here and get it.
Mohinder tried again, “You er…”, he pointed to Zane’s nose and rolled his eyes as the other man looked over his shoulder. “No, no, you..” He gave in and reached across with a napkin, steadying Zane’s head with one hand and catching the cream with the other. He showed Zane the napkin in explanation.
“Oh my, I’m such an idiot. Thank you.” About time.
“Here’s your order gentlemen, waffles with ice cream, strawberry AND chocolate syrup..” Mohinder grinned as Zane gave the waitress a look of “Do you have a problem?!”
“And for you sir, cherry pie with cream, enjoy it!” She slapped the check on the table before leaving.
“Mmmmmmm. Mmm God, that’s amazing.” Zane’s eyes were closed as he chewed the first mouthful of his waffle.
“Mmm. This cherry pie is outstanding.”
Zane’s eyes snapped open and he regarded the pie greedily. “Really? Is it really good.”
Mohinder nodded. “It’s fantastic. Beautiful.” He knew Zane wanted some, but he felt like teasing him. Zane was licking his lips and flicking his eyes between the plate and Mohinder’s mouth. “Mmm. You know, I think this is the best pie I’ve ever tasted?”
“Yeah?” Zane was now fiddling with his fork, still scooping waffle into his mouth but finding it hard to keep his eyes off the pie.
“Yes, I really feel sorry for anyone who doesn’t get to taste this pie.” He gave himself away with a slight smile.
“You’re mean.” Zane widened his eyes adorably.
Without replying, Mohinder cleaved off a piece of pie and offered it on the fork, holding his other hand underneath it.
Zane was torn - take the fork or eat it off the fork? Eat it off the fork, what the hell. He leaned forward and took the pie into his mouth, keeping his eyes on Mohinder’s face and shivering slightly as Mohinder’s finger brushed his chin. As he sat back, letting the hot cherries roll around his mouth he moaned again. This really was the best pie he had ever tasted.
“Mmm. Thanks. You want some waffle?” Before Mohinder could answer Zane was loading the fork with as much waffle and ice cream as he could. “Open wide!”
Mohinder paused for a second, he would have to open his mouth indecently wide to get this in in one go. Oh, what the hell. His mouth gaped around the food and he could have sworn that Zane raised his eyebrows as he did it. “Mmm, oh that’s wonderful. I’m so glad we did this.”
“Me too.” Said Zane, staring into Mohinder’s eyes.
They continued eating in silence until Zane dropped his fork on the empty plate and sat back, sighing loudly. “Wow, that was so worth the wait.”
Mohinder sniggered. “You can certainly put it away, I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen someone devour so much food.”
Zane smiled and kicked Mohinder lightly under the table. Mohinder nudged his ankle back with his foot and Zane moved his, leaving their ankles entwined. Mohinder stared at his plate, not wanting to look up and break the spell. He wanted this moment, this time with Zane, to last forever. Always in the back of his mind was the knowledge that there was a dangerous killer out there, and that beyond this diner, beyond the car, there was a world of uncertainty, and evil. The joke he had made about staying at this diner for ever was starting to seem less funny and more like a silent prayer to the future.
As if reading his mind, Zane broke the silence. “Maybe we should open our own diner. After all this is over, we should come back here and open a diner where that other one burned down, to give weary travellers like us a break.”
Mohinder grinned. “It’s a deal. A geneticist and a musician with no experience, opening a diner in the middle of nowhere. What could possibly go wrong?”
“Exactly. Now all I have to do is murder the chef and steal his recipe for that cherry pie.”
“If you could make me this cherry pie every day I’d never want anything else.”
Zane watched Mohinder’s fingertips twitch on the surface of the table and wanted desperately to take his hand. There was something between them, something more than just flirting and jokes. It was unspoken but it was deafening. He opened his mouth to speak but just then the waitress came back and took the money that he hadn’t even noticed Mohinder leaving. “Oh here Mohinder, let me…”
“I won’t hear of it, it’s on me, please.”
Zane covered Mohinder’s hand with his own, briefly. “Thank you.”
Mohinder smiled shyly and looked reticently out of the window. “I suppose we should be making a move…” He waited for Zane to disagree.
“Yeah, we should.”
Mohinder’s shoulders dropped.
“Unless….”
“Yes?”
“We could have one more cup of coffee, for the road?” Zane offered.
Mohinder smiled again, “I love that song.”
“Me too! Do you have…..”
They continued to talk, ankles still entwined, eyes still locked, trying to make the time pass slower. Over at the counter, Amber the waitress watched them flirt and wondered when these two would finally just kiss. Outside the snow started to fall, and a mechanic in Bozeman closed up for the night. In Las Vegas, a man stopped time, not knowing that a certain serial killer would have given everything to be able to do the same, and stay in a diner, with a man who made him feel that nothing in the future could compare to the moment he was currently living.