Sarcasm Is the Lowest Form of Wit; Not.

Here came one of the ludicrously malnourished days. So he had to unload food packages.

Cans of beans.
Cans of tinned pineapple.
Cans of more beans.
Cans of chopped tomatoes.
Cans of tuna.
Cans of more fucking beans.

Jake began to wonder if living in a can would be an option. It seemed warm enough, pretty stable and hell, it conducted electricity and heat. He could have lighting and a heat source; maybe canned life would be the way forward in the future.

“Heads up!” shouted a middle-aged, beer bellied man. His stomach hung a little lower than his shirt, so you could see it swinging around the place, perched on the shelf that was the waistband of his jeans. It wasn’t a pleasant sight in the least, he wondered if he should just tell him to get a better fitting shirt, or to do some damn exercise. Although, if he were to voice his opinions, the portly man may realize Jake shouldn’t be there. Jake kept a cap on top of his head, pulled down so the brim covered his swelling brown eyes.

A box of several cartons of eggs was thrown his way, which he just about managed to catch, bending his knees to try and decrease the force being bestowed upon them. He gently set them down and sighed, a little in relief and a little in disappointment. He hadn’t had many chances tonight to ‘break’ some foods, and that was the last box. He had a few mere bags of pretzels, four eggs, a carton of milk, half a carton of cordial and seven tea bags. Oh, and a small can of spaghetti hoops.

He bagged them into a holey plastic bag, and swung it over his shoulder. The portly man saluted him, as if to say good bye, and Jake left. He trudged back home, head hung low and feet feeling increasingly heavy as he approached his apartment.

“Cheer up, soldier.” smiled the man in the not so far distance. The blue eyes shone through the night, and his dirty blond hair was stained orange from the street light above him. Jake felt himself smiling a little as he recognized it to be Masimo. It’d been a while since he’d properly smiled.
“Masimo, what an Earth are you doing up at this time?”
“It’s not all that late. Why are you up?”
Jake lifted up his bag, showing him the limited supply of groceries. Masimo nodded curtly, just about understanding why he had that bag.
“Fancy inviting me back around to your place?”
“No, not really.” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh, so it’s like that.” said Masimo questioningly, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, just for a few hours. You can’t hate my company that much.”
“Did I say I hated your company?”
“No, but it was implied.”
“No it wasn’t. I didn’t insinuate anything of the sort. It’s not just your company, it is company in general.” he said simply, leaning against the cold brick wall, his fingers tracing the thin, black graffiti on the most beaten up brick. It read ‘Judgment Day Is Near.’
“Care to expand?” asked Masimo, stuffing his shaking hands into his pockets.
“I’ve told you before, I don’t like people. I’m glad you value me so much that you completely ignore what I say.”
“But why? Have several people hurt you, is that why you’re deterred? If so, I’m not like that. I have no intention of hurting you.”

Jake scoffed at Masimo’s lies. He felt the sole reason people were born was to hurt him. The scars all over his body proved this theory to be true. A lonely life was, well, lonely, but it was a safe one. He had the comfort of a broken apartment with broken contents.

“Look.” said Masimo, bluntly. “Just say the word and I’ll go.”
“What word?”
He sighed. “Any word you want. How about a hug? Surely that will prove that I’m not as much of a bad guy as you’ve set me out to be.”
“Really?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”

Jake shook his head and took a few steps forwards, awkwardly moving his stick like arms towards Masimo, slowly wrapping them around the other man. Masimo quickened the process and pulled him into a tight embrace, startling Jake and causing a small gasp to escape his quivering lips. After a little while, he eased into it, and a small smile crept onto both faces.
“Is this so bad?” asked Masimo.
“I expected it to be, but no, it isn’t.”
Masimo sighed happily, rubbing his back slowly. He expected it had been months, probably even years since Jake had any physical contact with another person. He didn’t think he was a virgin, but couldn’t figure out why exactly he wasn’t. There was some underlying reason; problem.

Jake slowly parted and pushed a hand through his greasy brown hair, which he would wash if the tap was working when he got back.
“Thanks.” he smiled.
“No problem.” smiled Masimo, replicating his friend’s facial expressions.
“Do you want to schedule something together?”
“Now you enjoy my company because I give you physical contact? I’m not a prostitute, you know. Well, I am, but that’s besides the point.”
Jake skimmed past the latter point, completely oblivious to Masimo’s confession.
“I never said you were a bad person.”
“Okay, I appreciate that. And as for the ‘scheduling’, don’t worry your pretty little head. I’ll find you.”

Jake nodded, once again, oblivious to the fact he had been called pretty, and instead left with his bag, to his apartment.