The More You Give

[Bo Jones]

"Gonna run outta room to move in here soon enough," Bo mumbled as he worked his way through the kitchen carrying yet another pallet of food. He knew that the Academy often really pitched in for these sort of charity events: it was a great way to give to the community and increase the public view of the school, both of which were just good idea in general and really good ideas in specific. This year, Bo had volunteered to organize and work the food drive, figuring that as one of the cooks, it was pretty much his job to get to work at handling food and all.

Grunting, he set the pallet of cans down on another and adjusted them, looking them over. Definitely good stuff, though he knew that what the bank really needed was some fresh stuff. He planned on shifting some of the goods around and all but, well...

"Can't do it all by myself," he said, looking around. As if that were the signal.. nothing happened. Bo chuckled and moved around the pallets, checking due dates and starting to at least mentally organize. He was bent over when he heard the door opening, and he waved. "Care to give me a hand over here? Can't quite tell if these expire next October or this past one..."

[Michael Miller]

Michael couldn’t believe he had been talked into this. But Bo was rather good looking, once you stopped focusing on the country boy look he had to himself. He could even go for the beard, so long as this thing to get all hairy was not contagious because Michael really was not up to letting hair grow anywhere else than on his head. Or maybe it was the boredom that told him it was better than nothing. Or the opportunity it gave him to stop thinking about his family and what excuse he could give this time not to head back home. Or maybe it just needed a break of partying with Georgia and Company f he wanted his brain to survive the rest of the year. Quite frankly, he didn’t know which one of these not so good reasons justified him walking towards the kitchen to help with a charity event. It was all Bo’s fault, he shouldn’t have told him to come and help. He bet the guy didn’t even expect him to actually do it. Yet another bad reason why he would.

He actually didn’t buy stuff. Or invited other people to buy food and give it up to the poor. That was not really his thing. So he was not sure if he was too late for the help or not. There was plenty of time, according to the poster the guy hung on the billboard so there had to be something he could do. Even if heavy lifting wasn’t his thing either. Maybe Bo would want him to make an inventory of what they had so far. He could count cans pretty easily.

All thoughts about food left him though when he entered the kitchen and heard Bo. It was not exactly what he said that struck him, more the position he was in. It made him smirk. “Ah, so that’s what you really wanted when you told me I should help you. You know, if you wanted to have sex with me, you could have just asked, no need to invite me somewhere and greet me with your ass up in the air.” That was too tempting, he had to say this. He approached Bo and the pallets of food. For a second, he hoped no one else heard them. Not that he really cared, but he could really go without a lecture on how to properly address the staff members. Especially when he wanted to add more. “Didn’t take you for a bottom. Then again...” He checked said bottom once more, not caring one second just how wrong that was. “And what is it you were saying about October?”

[Bo Jones]

Bo heard the voice and he nearly rolled his eyes. Admittedly his contact with Michael had been fairly minimal, but it had given him something of an idea of how the guy worked and thought. Bo never would've expected Michael to be the one volunteering, and he had an idea that the guy was after something.

"Ain't the time or place for talk like that," he said, rising up and turning to look at Micheal. "An' I ain't revealin' nothin' 'bout my sexual preferences jus' yet. Hell, we ain't be out on a formal dinner jus' yet," he winked at that, before nodding and gesturing toward the closets pallet

"Was sayin' how there's somethin' there that either expired coupla months ago or next year sometime. Can't rightly tell which. An' one I give away; t'other I eat for myself," he winked at Michael with that, more than willing to tease him after all the shit he got for the food last time they'd properly met.

[Michael Miller]

Luckily for Michael, he didn’t see Bo’s expression upon hearing him as he entered. Michael was expecting Bo to be surprised of his presence there. He clearly was not the kind you’d expect would do some volunteering, with reason. But the simple fact no one expected him to was enough for Michael to want to prove them otherwise. It was not like it cost him much, nor would he have to suffer something humiliating in the process. He might even gain something out of it, and the promise of a reward was always enough of a motivator for the young man.

“Why? You might get in trouble?” he retorted, clearly having no sign of remorse if that was the case. If someone was to get lectured for their behaviour here, it would have been Michael more likely than Bo after all. “You’re no fun, you know that?” he let out, leaning towards Bo but finding he had to look up if he wanted to look at his eyes while doing this. “As for the dinner,” he began, straightening himself up again, “That can still be arranged. Stranger things happened. Like my presence here.” At that, he smirked as his gazes remained locked on the other man. He looked every bit like what he did when he last saw him. He must be trimming his beard to keep it like that. “Bet you didn’t think I’d come, right?” Michael was pretty proud of himself here. The truth was that Michael normally wouldn’t have cared for Bo much after their first encounter, only there had been something in the cook’s attitude. It was as thought Michael could feel the man was telling him that he was too good for the boy. And that was preposterous. Bo was too good for him? More like the other way around. And he intended to prove it by getting Bo and dumping him afterwards. Hence why he thought he should take on Bo’s suggestion of doing some volunteering.

Bo was already done focusing on him however and went back to his pallets of food. That was unacceptable. At first, he wondered if the man was serious, then he noticed the wink and it made him chuckle. “Ah. That’s the secret of the food’s taste? Mind I share it with the newspaper guys, I’m sure they’d love it.” He pointed behind himself, towards where he came in, but didn’t try to go away. Instead, he looked at the dates, taking a bit of time to notice the numbers on the packages. “Well, those are for next October, and these there say, what, May? I think it’s May. Unless it’s March. Anyway, I’d say you’re safe. If you want to be sure, you can still open it, but I’m not up to sample it.”

[Bo Jones]

Bo snorted. "'cuz it ain't proper," he replied flatly, smirking a little. As if he hadn't already done a few things that would've gotten him in trouble or wouldn't strictly count as proper. Heck, half the people Bo knew would've called his sexuality something totally improper. They could go hang together as far as Bo was concerned (something he would have told several of them to their faces... and had, for that matter).

The cook just gave the scrawny guy a look at the mention of dinner. They still hadn't set anything there, and Bo still wasn't sure how to really read Michael. Was there interest there or was Michael just a flirt? Never could tell with some of these boys. As far as Michael's challenging question: "Not unless you were gettin' anythin' out of it, no," he admitted.

he moved to the pallets, shifting things. The food comment got a quick sour look, but it soon devolved into a chuckle and a shrug. "Be surprised what you can do. Half of the cookin's in chef," he gave another wink before setting aside a pallet and coming along Michael to look. "Might pick one that looks a little battered an' open it up to check," Bo said, tapping a few. "There's gotta be one around here. An' hey," he gestured, "can't say you didn't get nothin' for helpin."

[Michael Miller]

Michael cared little about what was proper. At least, he did not so long as he wouldn’t get in too much trouble for it. The fun had to be worth it after all. He looked around and saw no one that could point out just how improper his comments could be. That is, aside from Bo, but he was getting him on this so he shouldn’t complain. Except that he was. His eyes narrowed as he studied the bulkier man. “Fine, if you want to be like that,” he replied, looking away from Bo and back to the food he was supposed to help... he was not quite sure how he was supposed to help but he came allegedly for it.

Bo was quick to read more into this however and Michael smirked back at him. “Maybe you do know me after all.” He looked at the guy, a mischievous expression on his face. He was expecting something out of this, but maybe not as much as some people believed. Sometimes, being close to a person he wanted to get closer to was enough. In this case though, he might want a little bit more out of Bo. But that matter could still be discussed later. “There’s still time for that later,” he pointed out before Bo could ask what he wanted to get out of this.

Michael noticed the face Bo gave him about the food and he chuckled. “Relax. Besides, kudos for today’s meal. This one was spot on. Maybe you’re not that bad of a cook. Unless you didn’t work today, then you can forget everything I just said...” He looked as the man moved the pallets to look at what was on them. He was talking about sampling a beat down one, just to be sure, and Michael sensed a joke there out of this. “Yeah, food poisoning. But what is it compared to helping the poor right?” He looked at him after this. He didn’t expect Bo to believe he was ready to get to the hospital to help people out. “If I end up in the infirmary for this, you owe me an extra dessert.”

[Bo Jones]

"More know your type," Bo drawled, though he still couldn't quite help but smile there. There was nothing wrong with a little flirting, so long as everybody was game for it and all. Plus, Michael had that impish look, and Bo kinda liked that look in general and kinda liked it on Michael in specific. For now, however, Bo was very much focused, and he was the kind of guy who pushed through a task when he got focused in on it and all.

Though he did have to snort at the diatribe about his meal. "I help with a lotta the meals," he pointed out. He had actually gotten distracted from the working enough to focus on Michael at the response. "An' I did do some of the stuff with this one," he went back to looking at the samplings as Michael did.

Bo raised a brow at the helping. "You ain't eatin' the whole damn can, drama queen," he said, before picking out a particularly busted one. he tapped it a few times, making sure that he got some of the pressure out. Then, without thinking much about it, Bo all but popped it like he was Popeye the Sailor Man: his power having kicked in slightly with the work. He studied the can, considering. "Looks edible..." he murmured, still tilting it and examining. He still wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it did look... edible.

[Michael Miller]

Bo claimed he knew his kind. There was a lot that could be said here that would mix both teasing and flirting - Michael’s favorite - but he was under the impression that his best lines would be lost if he tried them here, seeing how Bo kept focusing on the food whenever Michael tried to pull him away from it. If he couldn’t fight it, he might as well make him finish fast so he could have some fun too. “Then you must know my presence here is going to cost you,” he let out. A devilish grin showed on his lips as he pulled closer to Bo. “Don’t worry. You’re already making the meals. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind us eating it together.” Other stuff came to his mind too, but it would be a nice start. And it would show just what kind of compensation he meant.

For a moment, he did manage to distract him and he was tempted to use it to his advantage, but Bo was quick to look back at the cans. He let out a soft sigh at that. It was not the first time he was being called a drama queen and he was pretty sure food had been involved before when it happened. It was not his fault if he was picky. “I hope so. Can cans go out of date?” He knew fast food could almost survive long after mankind and all, but what about those cans? He personally was not interested in eating something that had been bottles in decades ago, no matter how much you were telling him it was safe.

Bo sort of Hulked the can open. Michael’s brows raised at this. Ok, that was impressive. “Didn’t know you were Superman,” he let out before looking at the content Bo only described as edible. If that was all a cook could come out with, it made you wonder just how edible it really was. “What is that supposed to be anyway?” he asked as he pulled what appeared to be a white little ball. Eggs? No way, you put them in vinegar in a glass jar, not a can. He ate a piece of it. “Potatoes?” He waited a moment, almost expecting for it to make him sick in the next seconds if it was bad. “I’m not dying,” he said, stating out the obvious as he was very much standing. He was not interested in having the rest of his potatoes though. “I had no idea you could get some in cans.”