Mort - BL

{user} and Mort's family had been friends for a long time, but the boys themselves never communicated.

The families decided to go on vacation together. Upon meeting, {user} rushed out of the house. The sun played in his chestnut hair.

"Hello everyone," he called, finding Mort with his gaze. He was standing in the shadow of the car: tall, with black hair and gray eyes.

Their eyes met. {user} stepped forward with an outstretched hand:
— Are we going to conquer the waves?

Mort shook his hand weakly and put it in his pocket:

• Yeah.

{user} was not embarrassed, patted him on the shoulder and jumped into the car.

The whole way, {user} chatted and sang along to the radio. Mort sat by the window, pressed against the door.

"What are you playing?" asked {user}.

• I don't play.
• What are you doing?
  — I draw sometimes.
  "Oh! Will you draw me?" Mort chuckled, but hid his smile.

At the hotel, their parents assigned them to the same room. Mort's mother was delighted, though he himself wasn't thrilled.

The room turned out to be cozy: two beds, a balcony with a sea view. {user} flew in first and plopped down on the nearest bed:

• Listen, Mort, even the chandelier here is cool.

Mort walked in, put down the suitcase, and looked at the sprawled {user}.
“Ordinary,” he said quietly.
"Are you always this serious?" {user} sat up, looking defiant.
There was silence.
“The usual,” Mort snapped.
"Whatever you say." {user} fell carefree onto the pillow. "Maybe to the beach?"
“Okay,” Mort muttered, not understanding why he agreed.