Hehehe thank you! I started with this one first!
Stan slapped the door of the washing machine shut, threw the prepared beforehand coin into the slot and pushed the button. Only after that he straightened his back, put his hands over his hips, turned around and finally adressed the stare:
He had hoped to sound confident and unbothered, but his voice gave a little tilt at the end, so Stan really didn't want to think of what exactly the other guy thought of it.
“Nothing”, the said other guy chuckled and returned to reading the magazine he was still holding.
Stan gulped and tiptoed over cold tiles toward the same bench the other guy was sitting. Not like Stan wished to approach him, but that bench was the only sitting space in the room, and Stan had no intention of waiting the whole washing cycle on his feet. Or outside.
Especially as almost the whole mass of his own clothes and even his sneakers were now tumbling around in the cylinder, hopefully having enough of the foam to become somewhat clean.
Stan looked down at his underwear, the only piece that still felt like a cardboard, and had a stray wish of taking it off as well and put it with all the rest to be washed…
But then again. Stan was sure he couldn't fake THAT amount of confidence to parade around completely naked with an audience.
Especially as said audience looked (Stan took a sideway glance and gulped) cool and really really nice to look at.
Long blond hair, matching moustache, sharp nose, just as sharp eyes… Not to mention all the leather, on his shoulders and also the fingerless gloves and…
“So, I can't stare at you, but you can?” The guy chuckled without looking Stan's way, and the latter rapidly turned his head back, now keeping his focus on the washing machine.
“Nope”, he shouted. “I wasn't looking and I certainly wasn't staring!”
There was more chuckling, but then nothing. So after a minute of silence Stan, feeling bored with watching one of his sneaker repeatedly tap the circular window, felt brave enough to take another look. What? The guy certainly felt like something worth looking at and-
Stan was met with two sharp hazel eyes that immediately narrowed and were also followed by a crooked smirk.
“Wasn't looking you say?”
Stan gulped and turned away once again. This time instead of chuckles there was a creaking of pages, but also some more rustling. And then Stan felt that the space at his side was no more empty.
“You can stare if you like, you know”.
It felt like a trap. An evident trap, a very dangerous one. So of course Stan had no options but to check it out.
He stared back into hazel eyes that indeed were much closer now.
“So…” he cleared his throat, trying to sound less like he was feeling right now (like a mice before a predator) and more like the suave owner of very prosperous business (that was actually currently failing).
“So?” the really really pleasant voice echoed.
And either Stan was finally getting some of his luck back, or he was completely misreading the situation, but he really really wanted to check out this opportunity. He could flirt, right?
Stan looked at the shimmering eyes before him, licked his lips and gave his best:
“Can… can I borrow some money?”
And immediately wanted to slap himself over the forehead, as the gaze of the gorgeous guy momentarily went from expecting to confused.
Actually, Stan did exactly that, slapping himself and groaning. Why did he even try? Should've just sat in his stinky underwear and wait for his clothes go get somewhat fresh and leave without ever opening his stupid mouth…
The guy at his side bursted in laughter.
Yeeeshhhh, Stan quickly shuffled away on the bench, intending to very quickly become deaf, blind and also amnesiac, all to bypass the humiliation and…
“Now, haven't heard that one yet”, the guy's voice still held traces of chuckling. “Okay, I'll bite. No, but you can borrow…” he paused, now mumbling something under his breath.
After few seconds of it Stan glanced back again, now more confused himself and a little bit curious. The other guy was frowning, still almost breathlessly whispering something, before groaning and slumping back, over the wall.
“Nope. Zero idea. Unless it's weird and going straight to organ trading”.
A silent minute passed as Stan tried to make just anything with that information, before miraculously it clicked for him.
“What, did you want to say that I can borrow your heart instead?” Stan snorted.
The guy actually glared at him.
“No”, he said, with too much force on the word.
Some part of Stan had a guess the other was lying. And same part wanted to give the other a benefit to doubt. So Stan went with his instincts.
“You so did!” he shouted, mostly in delight that not only him was feeling awkward. Two could play the game of awkward chicken! But only one could win it!
“I did not!” the guy protested, his cheeks slowly gaining a slight pink tint.
“Sure”, Stan giggled and leaned back, over the wall as well. Somehow, it felt good. Maybe not as good if Stan's superb flirting skills worked, but he got some laughs and…
“‘Can I borrow some money?’” the guy's voice was back at whispering. “‘Sure, but sign the deal with your name and phone number’”.
Stan blinked and returned his stare.
“Did you just agree to give me some money?” he asked hesitantly, feeling his brain freeze.
The guy groaned and slapped his forehead.
“No, you dumbass, I asked for your name and phone number”, he muttered from under his palm.
Actually, no. That was the moment when Stan's brain completely stopped functioning.
