I own nothing.
"You really think this is a good idea," Hank asks quietly, shoving the bridge of his glasses further up his nose. Alex shrugs a noncommittal shoulder and pressed the last of the offending merchandise to the front of the fridge. Hank peers at the little army of produce on the door and think they're quite a happy little bundle of fruit; everyone has cartoonish smiling faces except for the grapes, which have a bunch of tiny happy faces. Honestly, they all sort of make him uncomfortable.
Fruit is not supposed to be that happy. Or any other emotion, for that matter.
Alex grins like he's figure out Perpetual Motion or something of equal important and rests his hands on his hips. Hank thinks he looks ridiculous, Alex probably thinks he looks triumphant. "They're fruit magnets," he points at them and looks at Hank. Politely, Hank waits for the explanation. "Like Erik."
"I don't follow."
"Erik is a fruit magnet," and like many things Alex says, Hank is again in the dark. "You don't get it."
"Not at all."
"For a smart guy, you can be awfully slow." Taking Hank's elbow, Alex forcibly removes them both from the kitchen and down one of the many sprawling corridors. "Well, Erik can bend magnetic fields."
"I know that, Alex," Hank leveled him with a disgruntled look and Alex brushed him off.
"And Charles is a fruit. Fruit. Magnet. See?"
"Charles is a human being?" Pause. "Well. Not. You know."
"You seriously need to catch up, Hank. We're in the sixties. Learn the lingo." When Alex smiled Hank did not feel himself blush. "Charles has a thing for Erik. A crush?"
"I haven't noticed."
"That would be because you're nose deep in beakers."
Sometime later, the entire house would be able to hear the argument over the happy fruit décor now all over their kitchen. Charles thought they were charming. Erik thought they were freakish demonic abominations and what ever happened to just naked magnets? Charles thought the magnets looked better with happy fruit on them.
Alex didn't stop laughing for days.