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“It’s fucking locked,” he says, turning to face me in the light of the bare, dim bulb. “It’s fucking locked and we are so fucking screwed.”
I can’t help but let out a tiny chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. Who the hell is stupid enough to get locked in a janitor’s closet? Also, who the hell is lucky enough to get locked in a tiny room with the most gorgeous guy alive? We had both happened to be skipping the same class, walking down the same hall when a teacher’s footsteps became audible and we both decided to jump into the same minuscule janitor’s closet. Which is now, obviously, locked from the outside.
“Well,” I start, glancing around to see what else is in here with us, “I guess we should get comfortable.”
Frank clears the tiny bit of floor with his foot so we can both sit down, way, way too close to each other.
“I guess I should introduce myself formally. I’m Gerard, I’m a senior,” I say, breaking the awkward silence.
“Yeah, I know who you are,” Frank replies with a small smile, making a tiny jump in my chest, “I know your brother pretty well and he’s told me about you. I’m Frank, I’m a junior.”
I resist the urge to say “I know”.
“What brings you here to this lovely dwelling?” I ask sarcastically, gesturing around but only managing to smack my hand on a low shelf.
Frank lets out a tiny giggle at my stupidity - fucking adorable - and launches into a story about how he was skipping science because they were supposed to do a dissection that day and didn’t feel comfortable cutting up animal corpses like that. When he gets confronted, he’s going to try the sob-story route.
“What about you?” he asks, leaning in a little with curiosity, “I wouldn’t peg you as a skipper.”
I put on a really exaggerated fake smile, making Frank giggle again, the beautiful noise bouncing around the close walls.
“I don’t know, I just wasn’t in the mood for class right now. And they’re a lot more relaxed with seniors,” I answer. My legs are already starting to fall asleep from where they’re folded under me.
Frank and I make small talk for a while, getting to know each other a little bit since there isn’t anything else to do. If I thought I had a big crush on him before, I was so terribly, terribly naïve.
After about an hour, the conversation has run dry. I’m about to suggest maybe we try and get out of this closet, but Frank speaks before me.
“Wanna see what they keep in janitor’s closets?” he asks, standing up, “There’s not much else to do.”
I shrug. “Alright.”
Frank takes the bottom half of the shelves while I take the top (after a little teasing comment about his height to which he smacks me, but it’s all in good fun).
Turns out, janitor’s closets have - surprise, surprise - janitor supplies! A lot of lovely chemical spray bottles, rags, buckets, a lot of spare keys for various rooms on campus (several of which I pocket, who knows when I’ll want access to an empty classroom if you get my drift…), rolls of toilet paper and paper towels, and a lot of cleaning supplies I never knew existed. After my search turns up nothing of interest, I slump back down onto the ground, surreptitiously staring at Frank’s ass and the bit of soft skin revealed by his shirt riding up.
“Find anything good?” he asks, still rummaging around in the recesses of a shelf, “I’ve heard you can find good stuff in janitor’s closets, because they’re the only one who ever goes in them. And they all hate their job.”
“Nope,” I reply simply, admiring the curve of his thigh as he stands up slightly.
“Jackpot!” he says suddenly, dropping back to the ground and holding out his prize, a water bottle full of what I’m sure is not water. “Told you there’s good stuff!”
My eyes go wide but I can’t help but smile a little bit. Getting drunk while stuck in a confined space with a super hot guy? How could it get any better?
In lieu of replying, I simply take the bottle out of his hand and take a large swig, barely even noticing the burn; I’m too used to it. Frank grins and copies my actions.
“I take no responsibility for my actions moving forward, okay,” he says, giggling again.
“Don’t worry,” I reply after another sip, “I’m sure I’ll be even weirder. Sorry in advance for when my mental filter disappears.”
Frank laughs around the mouth of the bottle, eyes crinkling up, and I swear I’ve never seen a prettier sight.
“Let’s play a game,” Frank suggests, when the bottle is 3/4 gone.
My chest feels wonderfully warm, the world blurring a bit around the edges, and it’s getting very hard to suppress the urge to just grab Frank’s squishy cheeks and kiss him.
“That sounds unnecessarily ominous,” I quip, and Frank’s slightly red face lights up. “What did you have in mind?”
Frank pauses to think for a moment, taking a sip from the bottle and passing it over.
“We’re already completely set up for Seven Minutes in Heaven,” I say without thinking. Luckily, Frank takes it totally not seriously, laughing at that too, a real genuine laugh that sounds like a duck getting repeatedly stepped on. It’s the cutest thing I think I’ve ever heard.
“Two guys, both in the closet…” Frank jokes with a suggestive smirk, smacking me on the leg.
“Wow, getting touchy, are we?” I say even more suggestively.
We both laugh together this time, mine absolutely forced (since I’m completely serious) and Frank’s completely genuine.
“I mean, we could always just play good old Truth or Dare,” he suggests, raising his eyebrows and giving a drunk, lopsided smirk.
“Are you fucking serious Frank, do you think this is a seventh grade sleepover,” I deadpan. Truth is (pun intended) I would kill a man to play that game in a small dark room, drunk, with Frank Iero, but I don’t want to seem too eager.
Frank sighs.
“Fine, why don’t you think of a better option?” He crosses his arms in front of himself. I scowl.
“Is that a dare?”
Frank grins hugely, clapping his hands together like a five-year-old.
“Okay, okay, truth or dare?” he asks, leaning his elbows on his knees.
“Truth,” I answer with no hesitation, meeting his eyes.
“What’s one thing you do regularly you would never want to be caught doing?” Frank asks, causing my cheeks to instantly flush pink. Thanks God it’s so dark in here.
“Uh, well, I honestly think that’s the same for every teenage boy…” I say awkwardly.
Frank snickers. “True.”
“Okay, truth or dare?” I ask, wholly unsure of what I’ll say in either case.
“Dare,” Frank says with another stupid smirk.
I sigh.
“What is there to do in such a small space?”
“I can think of a couple things…”
I stop remembering how to breathe. Frank raises an eyebrow. He has to be fucking kidding, he’s straight and he’s just joking, he’s drunk.
“Um, I dare you to…finish what’s left in that bottle,” I say, shoving what Frank said out of my mind. There’s still quite a bit left, so this should be interesting.
“You trying to get me drunk, Way?” he slurs, cocking his head.
“You already are,” I answer, giggling, not even wanting to attempt to pronounce his last name in this state of mind. “So am I. Isn’t it fun?”
Giggling even more, Frank tips his head back and downs half the remaining drink in one go. Then, he starts sputtering and hacking, acting like he’s about to die or something.
“You good?” I ask, slapping him on the shoulder.
His head lolls to the side as he replies, “Yeah…yeah…just, you know, never had that much in one go…”
“You ever actually gotten drunk before?” I ask. He shrugs noncommittally, so I know it’s a “no”.
“You wanna finish this?” he offers, holding out the bottle. I nod, chugging the remaining liquid with ease. Frank watches with a bit of awe. It’s so adorable.
“Truth or dare?” he asks once I’ve put down the now-empty bottle.
“HA!” I yell in lieu of an answer. Frank jumps, started by my outburst. “You didn’t do the dare, you cheated. That means I get a free pass on one thing too!” I explain with glee.
Frank’s jaw drops with annoyance, but he has no line of argument.
“Ugh, okay, Way, truth or dare?” he repeats. I love the way he slurs my name, drawing out the last sound.
I ponder for a moment before replying, “Dare.”
“That’s so hard!” Frank grumbles.
“That’s what he said,” I mumble under my breath, instantly regretting it because I fucking said he, what guy who’s supposedly straight says that? I cross my fingers in my lap that Frank doesn’t notice, because if so, this is about to get extremely awkward. It was all fun before, when Frank was making joking suggestive comments, but when it actually comes down to it I know that Frank, a straight boy, would totally freak out at being locked in a tiny closet with a gay boy. That’s just how straight teenage boys are. Trust me, I’ve had run-ins with plenty of them in my life.
“What did you say?” Frank asks, leaning forward with eyebrows raised.
“‘That’s what she said’,” I say, leaning away slightly.
“No you didn’t,” Frank giggles. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “You said ‘he’, didn’t you? Are you gay?”
“I said ‘dare’, not ‘truth’,” I quip, and Frank turns his mouth into an “O”.
“Getting sassy, are we?”
I smirk.
“Fine.” He draws out the word. “Um, I dare you to…answer my question!”
“Cheater!” I declare, whacking his arm.
“That’s totally fair!” he insists, whacking me back with a huge grin.
A totally unrelated thought drifts across my mind, so of course, I voice it.
“You do realize we’re missing so much class? What time is it even?”
Frank gazes off into the space above my head for a few moments.
“Oops,” he says.
“Oops,” I agree.
“Maybe ‘oops’ will be our ‘always’,” he suggests in a deadpan, and I crack up, chest heaving, grasping at whatever I can, which happens to be Frank’s knees. Granted, it’s not actually that funny but it’s Frank and he’s cute and I’m drunk. My heart is also hammering like a runaway horse and I need to cover that shit up, or Frank might hear it.
Frank laughs right along with me, head dropping over so it’s basically on my lap and that certainly causes a different type of feeling.
“Truth or dare?” I ask him, hoping he forgot about the last question, since he’s definitely more drunk than I am and if my head is swimming this much than he must be super out of it.
“No, you cheater!” he says, laughing again, “You never did my dare!”
Not as out of it as I thought.
“Fine,” I grumble, “But you can’t tell anyone, okay?”
Frank’s eyebrows shoot up and he grins. “So you are gay? I never would have thought so!”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. Now it would be so easy for him to find out that I like him.
“I’m sorry,” I say into my lap, “I get it if you’re creeped out or something now.”
I feel an impossibly soft hand cup around my chin, lifting my head up, and the hazel eyes boring into mine make me momentarily forget the entire world.
“Why would I be creeped out, Gerard?” he says softly, fingers still on my face. Then he breaks out into a huge laugh, unfortunately leaning back away from me. “I’m bisexual as fuck!”
My eyes almost pop out of my head, causing Frank’s dying-duck laugh to come out again.
“Mikey didn’t tell you?”
I shake my head, confused and slightly hesitant.
“Oh, we hooked up a few times freshman year!”
I stop moving entirely. My own brother hooked up with the guy I like and never even bothered to tell me? He never even bothered to tell me that he’s not straight? I go on about how gay I am all the time to him!
Frank doesn’t notice my shock and just keeps on talking.
“Yeah, but it was weird and he was just experimenting to see if he was straight or not or whatever. Turns out he is straight. But you’d probably know that? And I had my eye on some other guy anyway…still do as a matter of fact.”
I try not to let my utter disappointment show; it’s never fun when the guy you like tells you he likes someone else.
“Well that’s…news,” I say, absolutely unsure how to respond.
Frank shrugs.
“It’s high school, it’s time to experiment,” he says nonchalantly, interpreting my awkwardness at the fact he hooked up with my little brother (how far does that even mean? did he fuck my brother?), not that he said he likes someone else.
“Well, I’m all up for experimenting,” I say, not even thinking about the connotations in this situation.
“Are you flirting with me, Gerard Way?” Frank asks, giggling.
“No,” I insist, giggling back, “Besides, you were the one being all touchy before…and trying to get me drunk…”
“No I wasn’t,” Frank argues, acting mock-upset.
“Liar!”
“You suck.”
“Hell yeah I do,” I say, as sexy as I can, causing Frank’s eyes to go comically wide.
He tries to stutter something, causing me to crack up again. This is the giggliest I’ve ever been.
“Wow, someone’s flustered!” I tease, sliding a hand along Frank’s thigh. He stiffens visibly. “Aw, is the little boy a little nervous?”
“Shut your up fuck,” Frank chokes out, shuffling his words up. I can’t tell whether it really is nerves or just the alcohol.
“We seem to have forgotten our game…” I say. “Truth or dare, Frankie?”
He smiles a little at the nickname, attitude shifting quickly.
“Truth,” he replies, unfortunately.
Okay, I can deal with that.
“How far have you gotten?”
Frank bites his lip and I can barely hold myself back.
“With a boy or a girl?” I can tell he’s trying to stall.
“Either. Both.”
Frank glares at me, picking at the hem of his shirt. My eyes follow his movements, praying that his shirt rides up over his stomach.
“Um, well, the, um, the only person I’ve hooked up with is Mikey,” he starts, running a hand through his dark hair. “And we, um, we only, like, kissed.”
He hangs his head, probably in shame, but it honestly makes me a little excited that Frank is so inexperienced. As a 16 year old boy, he’s probably really pining for something more exciting.
“That’s fine Frank, don’t be, like embarrassed,” I say.
Frank ignores me, simply saying, “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” I say smugly. Frank tries and fails to hold back a smile.
“I dare you to tell me how attractive you find me, on a scale of 1-10,” he says.
“That’s not even a fucking dare, that’s a truth you cheater,” I say exasperatedly. “You keep cheating you’re horrible.”
“Fine, fine…I dare you to…kiss the most attractive person in the room,” he says with a loud giggle.
I shrug. “Okay.” And place a long, slow kiss on the back of my own hand.
“You fucker!” Frank shrieks, banging his head on the wall behind him as he laughs.
“Are you that eager to kiss me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Frank huffs. “You’re so egotistical.”
“For good reason,” I simper, flicking a piece of hair off my shoulder before dissolving into more giggles. “Truth or dare, Frank-o?”
“Promise to never call me that again.”
“Okay…Frank-o…”
“You’re so irritating.”
“Love me, Frankie.”
“You’re so much more drunk than I am holy shit.”
“No…I could have more…truth or dare?” I ask again, drawing out the last sound.
“Dare.”
I grin hugely.
“My legs are asleep,” Frank announces, and then unfolds them and slips them on either side of me. I suck my lower lip nervously into my mouth before unfolding my legs too, laying them on top of Frank’s thighs because there is literally no more room in this tiny fucking closet.
I’m trying to think of a dare but it’s insanely distracting to have Frank absentmindedly drawing shapes on my lower legs.
“Do you want to play another game? This one isn’t really going anywhere,” I suggest.
“I think it really could go somewhere…” Frank says in a slightly husky voice, making my heart skip yet another beat. At this rate, they’ll find Frank in the closet holding my corpse.
“Do you want it to?” I ask, holding my breath for his answer. Until this point, we’ve been kind of tiptoeing around each other, flirting and such but nothing actually serious, and I’m not sure if he’s actually interested in me or just flirty and drunk.
“I wouldn’t be opposed,” Frank replies and I almost sigh in relief.
“Okay, um…I dare you to…” I lean in really close to Frank, for no reason, because obviously nobody else will hear but it makes the tension rise significantly. “Make me hard.”
I can see Frank swallow hard, poor little guy, but I’m too drunk and now horny to care, and he did ask for this. He doesn't move for a while.
“How do I, um, do that?” he asks, very quietly, cheeks reddening, and I just want to scoop him up in my arms.
With a small smile, I reach out and take Frank’s hand - Frank’s soft, warm hand - and carefully guide it over to my lap, letting it settle on my thigh before releasing it, leaving the rest up to Frank. He takes a deep breath before sliding his hand up to the very top of my thigh; he doesn’t intend it, but it’s so teasing and slow and I can feel myself getting hard already. Finally, finally his hand is at my zipper. Instead of unzipping my pants like a normal person, he just kind of presses down, face blanching as he feels my already semi-hard dick. I hear him suck in a breath, and I can barely suppress a tiny groan.
“Come on, Frankie, that’s not good enough,” I tease, placing my hand over his own and forcing him to press harder, rubbing his hand back and forth. He seems to get used to it quickly because without warning he deftly unzips my jeans and plunges his hand inside them, taking no time with wrapping his warm fingers around my dick and if I thought his hands felt nice and soft before oh fuck I was wrong.
“Oh God,” I hiss as Frank swipes his thumb over the tip, hand sliding faster with every movement. I lean back, head pressed against the wall and marvel about how I never knew a handjob could feel this good.
Without any warning at all, Frank suddenly retracts his hand and sits back. I gape at him.
“You just said to get you hard. I did that. Your turn. Truth or dare?” he says with a stupid smirk.
“You little fucker!” By now, of course, I’m painfully hard and would give anything to have Frank finish with that wonderful soft hand of his.
“You kept saying I was cheating, so I went exactly by what you said this time,” he giggles.
“You suck. Dare.”
“Don’t tempt me. Okay, I dare you to…finish yourself while I watch,” he answers with a grin that makes my heart melt.
There’s no hesitation before I reach in my own pants and start jacking myself off, just like I’ve done hundreds of times before but it’s different because this time . He tucks his legs up to his chest, letting mine slide around his hips, and rests his chin on his knees with an enamored expression.
I try as hard as I can to suppress my groans, biting my lip tightly and letting the air just hiss out in small bursts. Frank doesn’t take his eyes off my lap. It doesn’t take long before I’m spilling all over my hand and boxers, what with all the flirting and tension and Frank’s fucking stare.
“Wow,” he breathes after I’ve stolen one of the many rolls of toilet paper to wipe myself off.
“You like that?” I slur, and instead of sitting down across from Frank like I was before, I squish myself between him and the door, leaning on the same wall as him. I’m pressed so fucking close to his body I can feel the little bit of squish on his hip right above his waistband and the fabric of his jeans through my own and it makes me realize that there are way too many layers of clothes between us.
“Frankie, take off your shirt,” I whine.
“Is that a dare?” he asks.
“Yes, yes, fuck, just do it,” I say, pawing at his chest in impatience.
He pulls it off in one swift motion and I immediately smooth my hand along his chest, fingering his nipples and pressing softly on the adorable little bit of pudge on his stomach.
“Truth or dare?” Frank asks me through a sigh.
“Dare, of course,” I reply, moving my hand down to his hip and resting it there, with my arm lightly across his belly.
“I dare you to…jack me off, too,” Frank whispers and my stomach leaps.
“I can definitely do that.”
My hand slides down onto his lap, fumbling with the button on his jeans but the angle is too awkward.
“Wait, um,” I say, trying to figure out how to figure this out. I wedge my other arms behind his back and use it to lift him up so he’s sitting on my lap, pressed against my chest and I can just reach around in front of me and tug his pants down below his hips.
“Fuck,” he breathes, so close to my own face as I wrap my hand around his dick, going extremely slow to tease him, sliding just my thumb from base to tip, feeling him get harder under my hand before adding more fingers, pumping so so slowly and purposely neglecting the tip, making Frank start shifting on top of me, pressing his back against my chest. I bend my head to start kissing his neck lightly, timing them with every pump of my hand and as I get faster they just get longer, soft tiny kisses turning into my simply sucking on the soft skin along his collarbone. Frank’s moaning on my lap, hips starting to thrust upwards because I’m still going so painfully slow. With every drop of his hips, his ass grinds into my lap and I feel myself becoming hard again already.
“Fuck, Gerard, yes,” he moans as I reach my other hand around to cup his balls, the hand on his dick finally getting up to a good speed and now Frank is positively writhing. Hey, I don’t blame him, I remember my first handjob, it wasn’t nearly as good as this but damn it felt wonderful.
I think by now Frank has noticed how hard I am, since he doesn’t seem to be thrusting as much as grinding down into my lap. I continue sucking on his neck, purposely leaving marks (that would be so funny seeing Frank try to explain those). Frank’s movements start to become shaky - I know he’s close - so, because I like to tease people, I pull off both my hands.
“What the FUCK,” Frank snaps, sliding his ass off my lap so he can face me, legs still slung over me.
“Come on, Frankie, let’s make it more interesting,” I say cheekily. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Frank says, just to be difficult.
“Did you ever notice me before we were locked in here?” I ask, running my hand along Frank’s side.
Frank gives a tiny smile. “Yeah I totally did. Remember I said there was that other guy I started liking?”
A huge smile grows on my face and I feel a bush start to spread, clapping my hands over my face.
“Aw, Frankie, that’s so cute!” I gush. “You have a crush on me!”
“Shut up.”
Ruffling his hair, I place a tiny kiss on his forehead.
“Truth or dare?” Frank asks.
“Dare.”
He grins. “Suck me off.”
I bite my lip to suppress a smile. “Ah yes I can do that. I’m so honored to be both your first handjob and first blowjob.”
Frank shrugs and giggles.
“Okay stand up,” I say, shoving Frank off my lap. He quickly obliges, and I pull his pants and boxers the rest of the way down. I can still see his face even in the dim light, which is good, because that means he can see mine. His feet shift nervously and he doesn’t seem to know where to put his hands. It’s adorable.
“You ready?” I ask, settling on my knees and placing one hand carefully on his side.
Frank lets out a broken gasp in lieu of an answer. I press my other hand on the front of his hip to keep him back, slowly licking a stripe from his base to tip.
“You’re such a fucking tease,” Frank complains. I ignore him. I’m an expert at this.
After leisurely licking his dick a few more times I move up and place my lips on the very tip, sucking very lightly a few times and grinning at the whimpers Frank makes. Without warning, I dip my head down, taking Frank’s entire dick in my mouth, feeling the tip slide a little down my throat as my lips touch the very base. Frank cries out in surprise and pleasure, but my mouth has already popped back off the end; I’m focusing on suppressing the urge to start hacking. Frank tangles his fingers in my hair as I wrap my hand around his base, the other still holding his hips back, fitting my lips snugly around his dick again and swirling my tongue around the tip, where there’s already a lot of precum leaking out. I move into a normal rhythm, timing my mouth with my hand, twisting at irregular intervals and grinning at the dirty groans Frank keeps making. I look up at him desperate to see his sex face and almost drop his dick out of my mouth because of the utter filth of it, his mouth hanging open limply, eyes closed, breathing so hard with those wonderful moans. I feel myself instantly get harder, but know I should focus on Frank rather than myself.
“Gerard, fuck,” he whimpers, pressing my head farther down towards his body, rocking his hips as much as I’ll allow. “Fuck…yes…”
I groan around him, sending his body into a frenzy with the vibrations, shoulders knocking against the wall and fingers yanking my long hair. I pull off for a moment to spit on my hand, making it slicker before pumping as fast as I can on his base and licking around his tip. Once again, I push my head forward so his dick slides down my throat and I swallow around it, making Frank an absolute mess, practically screaming and it doesn’t even occur to me that we’re technically in a public place.
“I’m so close,” he breathes, shoving his hips forward and this time I allow it, letting him fuck my mouth to his greatest pleasure. It’s only a few thrusts before he lets out a broken gasp and his cum fills my mouth without warning, almost making me choke. He pulls out the second he finishes coming, slumping down on the ground in front of me as I still struggle to swallow it all.
“Fuck, Gerard,” he gasps in between deep breaths, “That was amazing, thank you.”
“Of course,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, suppressing the urge to immediately start jacking myself off.
He pulls his boxers back up and moves to sit back on my lap because there’s not even enough room for us to be comfortable without that kind of contact, but finds his progress blocked by my extremely hard dick.
“Whoops,” he says with a giggle, not hesitating to reach down and start jerking me off, so fucking fast and his hand is so fucking soft that I’m moaning within seconds and finishing within a couple minutes.
“Thanks Frankie,” I murmur as he wipes up with the toilet paper, pulls up my boxers and then sits comfortably in my lap. I wrap my arms around him tightly, resting my chin on his shoulder.
“Want to play another game?” he asks after a few minutes of recovering silence.
“Okay. What did you have in mind?”
He thinks for a moment.
“We could, um, have a staring contest?” he offers.
I raise an eyebrow. “That’t the best thing you could come up with?”
“Suggest something better than.”
“Fine.” I close my eyes. “On the count of three. One, two…three.”
I open my eyes, to stare back into Frank’s unbelievably close and exceptionally beautiful hazel eyes. Until now, I hadn’t really looked at them, other than that one brief moment. I forget how to breathe. Not in a cliché way, not metaphorically; my lungs start burning and I let out a breath that feels like it was stuck in my chest for years.
“You good?” Frank asks, noticing my gasping.
I nod.
“You took my breath away,” I joke, even though it’s technically true. Frank grins and pats my cheek.
My eyes start to feel a bit dry and painful; I will them to start tearing up because I refuse to lose this contest. Apparently, so does Frank since it drags on and on and my fingers are digging into my palm to distract me from the burn in my eyes. Then I get an idea.
Sure to keep my eyes completely open, I lean in, only having to cross a short distance before I press my lips onto Frank’s, opening them slightly and like clockwork, Frank’s eyes flutter shut.
“HA!” I exclaim, pulling away. “I win.”
“Cheater.”
“Nope.”
“You suck.”
“Really well, as you now know.”
“Please, just kiss me again.”
I oblige, wasting no time in placing my open mouth on Frank’s, tongue swiping on his lips as he relaxes into the kiss, wrapping his arms around my waist and letting his tongue slide onto mine. That’s all we do for a very long time, nothing more than that and it’s so peaceful and so wonderful and I’ve never felt happier in my life.
Until of course, the door suddenly bangs open and we go spilling onto the very confused janitor’s feet.