It's A Hoot (mxm)

Chapter 15

"Nine thirty!!" Toren exclaimed.

The only reason he was so shocked was because Michael was there instead of at work, but seeing the bear's neutral expression about it calmed him back down to his more amiable self.
Normally, in a few hours, he'd be going to bed. Normally. But things hadn't been normal for some time. It was throwing him off.

He sighed and rubbed his face. It was bright. The sunlight streaming through the windows and he had an entire day of it ahead of him. The thought of going outside in it was displeasing. He preferred the moonlit nights and the waning light of the sun. The cold crisp afternoons and chilly mornings.
It was a good thing it was winter. Summers were especially annoying. The heat of the day would always lull him to sleep and he could never stand being in the sun for very long.

Michael rose up from the couch and tipped his head towards the kitchen. "Anything?"

Toren sighed in realization and shook his head. "Haven't had time to fill it."
He walked over to where his stack of things still were. The folk of Miller Town were kind enough to not mess with them. They at least had some sense of personal space, though he wasn't bothered much by the idea. As long as nothing was broken or stolen. He wasn't very territorial, after all.

He grabbed the backpack he'd had in the car with him on his "road trip" from the city. There were still some snacks in it.

He pulled out a bottle of water and a packet of dried meat, some nuts, and a long forgotten apple that, surprise surprise, was still in good enough condition to eat.
He glanced up at the bear and held up his findings. "Want one?"

Michael was eyeing the food with a heavy frown that only increased further as he spoke. "You're not eating that." He grunted and made a gesture for him to follow, walking to the cabin door.

Perking up a little, but not willing to put good food down just yet, he glanced back at his haul. "Where are you going?"

"We're going to my place. Where there's real food." Michael only cast a quick glance back before leaving the door open and heading down the porch to his car.

Real food? Toren dropped the food back into his backpack, but pocketed the apple in his hoodie before he followed the bear, shutting the door swiftly behind him.
He couldn't say no to real food.

He hopped into Michael's car and they took a short trip down the driveway to the fork, taking the one back to Michael's place.

It was a quaint home. A little larger than the cabin, but similar in style and held the same warm, cozy feel.

The porch was larger with a double seated porch swing that had names carved into each side. One of them, was surprisingly, Michael's.

The interior was rustic and had a similar layout. Toren noticed the shelves the most. It was an unusual amount and they were everywhere. They were full, but not of books. Odd trinkets, statues, rocks, jars full of sands or other things, lined the shelves in a sort of disarray that befit the peculiarity of the items. Some of them in particular, caught his attention. Like the little metal animals made from nuts, bolts, and scraps.

Toren didn't like to judge people much, or speculate about them without any basis, but he admittedly did, as everyone did. It was a subconscious thing, to try and figure people out. This, the hundreds of little things scattered around; collectables, as some might call them, was unexpected. Michael didn't seem the sort to collect things or even take interest in them, but when he looked up at the bear, whom had a one track mind, the kitchen, it fit. It made sense. He did take notice of the little things. He was quiet, but observant, a kindred spirit in that sense.