Chapter Text
Bacon checked in his rearview mirror for Planet, watching them stare out of the car window, their humming barely audible compared to Bacon’s blasting music. He turned down the volume a bit to hear Planet.
“You’re quiet,” Bacon noted their sudden silence. Planet was talking enthusiastically earlier during the car ride and Bacon swore he had never heard them talk so much.
“And?”
“It’s not bad! I want to know what you’re thinking about- and the song you’re humming.”
Planet stared at him blankly. Okay… did Bacon say something wrong?
“It’s the Russian alphabet.”
Oh.
“How can I tell when I’m not hearing the letters!” he answered defensively.
“Did your teacher not show you the little video with all the kids and the building blocks?” Bacon shook his head. “Man, that’s a bummer. You need to watch it and listen to the song.”
“You can sing it right now,” Bacon joked over his shoulder. Planet went silent, actually considering the offer, which Bacon did not expect. He hoped they would take it seriously, unlike Mapicc and Spoke who always managed to burst his eardrums with shrill singing voices. They drove a couple meters before passing a Russian bakery on the corner of the street.
Hm, I wonder if I should buy some later this week for Planet. The thought was dispelled by Bacon’s realisation that he had one too many club commitments that would knock him over the second he stepped on university grounds. He didn’t mind first years apart from their constant fretting and knack of over-socialising. Or people naturally socialised as much as they did, and Bacon was actually becoming a sweaty computer science nerd. He hoped not. The bakery would have to wait, or they could get it now.
They were turning around the corner when Bacon slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching painfully against the tarmac and Planet’s words flying out the car window. He swore under his breath when the woman on the road held up her hand, hurriedly walking across with her child.
“Come on! It’s not that hard to walk up to the pedestrian crossing five meters away.”
“Hey. Be nice,” Planet scolded him. “Otherwise, I won’t sing for you.”
Bacon definitely didn’t shut up then. The rest of the drive was filled with Planet’s soft singing, which Bacon encouraged despite their embarrassment. It was better than his playlist.
~~~
“This is actually kinda disappointing,” Planet pointed out as they walked across the foreshore. “I did some research as part of my degree, and they said this site was leading in environmental, social and economic sustainability. But you see here-”
“It’s just some trash bro,” Bacon groaned, kicking at the tiny rocks under his shoes. He didn’t look at the sludge of chip packets floating around on the water. “Everyone litters from time to time. If you’re that offended, pick it up yourself.”
“Littering shouldn’t be the norm! People nowadays don’t think about the effects of these things because its easy to ignore. Bacon- don’t do that. You’re going to ruin your shoes.”
He sighed. “Since when did you care about my clothes?”
“Because those shoes are a good brand,” Planet averted the question and opted to talk about something else. “You know, I want to snowboard wherever you can in this country. I’m surprised there’s snow in the first place, considering how hot it is.”
“If you stay the year, we can go to the snow. Hang on; you didn't answer my question!” Bacon hounded them.
“What question?”
“Don’t act dumb!”
Planet finally looked at him, hands planted on their hips. Their eyes looked up and down Bacon’s body, and despite him being a confident man, Planet’s eyes made him curl into himself. What the hell has got Planet looking at him like that?
“Did I tell you how the green complements your eyes well?” Planet pointedly looked at his muted green sweater. It was a plain knit sweater with a simple diamond pattern at the cuffs – a similar shade to the flecks of green in Bacon’s hazel eyes. “The Jupiter centrepiece is really cute. I like the shape. Did you wear it just for me?”
Bacon blushed, averting his eyes at Planet’s teasing tone. “No, my friend bought it for me a few years back. You never said anything about my outfit, except that it was nice.”
“It’s better than nice! I can’t believe I said just ‘nice’,” they frowned at themselves before they continued walking in silence. The pair continued down the sandstone path; Planet with a small skip in their steps and Bacon with the drag of his heels grinding against the rocks.
Bacon twiddled with the hem of his sweater. He knew it complemented his looks well – after all, it was a gift from Kaboodle, who had impeccable fashion sense. She always told him to wear a gold accessory with it and knowing her, she probably convinced Wemmbu to buy him two gold chains (he said he only bought the second one for himself, but he forgot it in the bag?). He couldn’t complain though because it worked in his favour. People thought he had a good fashion sense because of all the clothes Kaboodle gifted him. The girl was obsessed with clothes.
“Where else do you want to visit while you’re here?” Bacon asked with a slight tilt of his head.
“Hmm…” Planet hummed in thought. “I’m not sure. Maybe go hike the big mountain your country is known for. But really, I want to try the Russian food here. Compare them to home… and probably because I’ll get homesick pretty soon.”
Bacon twitched at the word, vividly feeling Planet’s fingers ghosting over his hips and waist.
“I’m homesick and you smell like cinnamon.”
He shook his head and grinned. “There was a Russian bakery on the way here. We can try some of their items?”
They lit up in excitement. “Of course! I would never pass up an opportunity for a Medovik. They’ve got to have it otherwise I’m suing them.”
“That’s the honey cake made for the Empress right?” Bacon pursed his lips when they nodded emphatically. Then his stomach grumbled loudly between them, disrupting the peace as heat rushed through his face. Planet giggled loudly like the sound of tinkling bells while Bacon loudly cursed at his stomach in embarrassment.
"Your stomach seems to like the sound of that. We should go.”
“My stomach agrees.”