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The whispers of winter had just started to fall upon Ninjago. A season great for cozying up by the fire and staying in for warm drinks. Not for Lloyd Garmadon, though.
His steps are light, body even lighter as he scales from rooftop to rooftop. Lloyd realizes that he probably looks stupid as he hastily slips into a random winter coat he grabbed from their unfolded pile of laundry, straining his stiff arms to pull faux leather sleeves over aching shoulders. Nya's. He's gotta return this better than when he took it.
The gang of the week didn't take lightly that the green ninja was about to delay their next big payday, and they were sure to make it known.
He sniffs, morosely ignoring the itch on his nose through the stretched bandaid.
His hands thankfully squeeze right into the jacket, doing the best he can to zip it up as he nears a familiar shop. The cold winds pick up, billowing specks of hail onto him. He digs his chin into the fake fur of the coat, scoping through the mist.
Even through the cacophony of Ninjago's first snowfall of the year, he'd always recognize the mop of hair standing by their usual meet-up spot.
He jumps down to a fire escape between two buildings. His body groans at the sudden landing, leg cramping in protest, and almost skirts against the slippery railing he lands on. The yelp he holds back freezes in his throat as he fights to regain his balance before gravity pulls him into a cold, wet hug.
Being embarrassingly close to getting a face full of city floor snow stutters him from autopilot, and he regains his footing to adjust himself enough to look presentable before stepping out into the main road.
Brad is leaning against the grates of the closed shop, boredly scrolling through his phone. Lloyd smiles at the sight despite himself.
The thought of sneaking up on him came rather late as the snap of a stray stick announces his presence before the idea could even settle in. Brad has already looked up from his phone and Lloyd can see the recognition dawn on him.
Lloyd gives him a tight-lipped smile as he curses himself mentally. Some ninja he is.
Whatever greeting Brad had died on his tongue the moment he got a closer look at him.
"Woah. You look.. terrible."
Lloyd ignores his staring in favor of dusting off some snow that was caught in the furs of his jacket. He finally scratches at the itch on his nose, fighting a wince as he's painfully reminded of the nasty bruise that sits there.
".. Good evening to you too, Brad."
He earns an eyeroll for his proper greeting. "You can't be 20 minutes late, show up looking like this and just 'good evening, Brad' me."
Lloyd sheepishly grins at the slight poke from his tardiness, "I'm sorry, you know how it gets."
Brad's gaze jumps around the edges of his face, lips pursing into a tense line as he seemingly counts his bruises before he looks back at him.
"C'mon, man, I'm serious. I swear it feels like we'll meet in the emergency room next time or something—"
"Are we going to eat or are you just going to be checking me out all day?"
Despite his fatigue, Lloyd doesn't miss the panic that flashes through Brad's eyes. He smirks, smugly lapping up his small win as the other groans.
"Sheesh, fine. I get it, you don't care about talking to me. You only care about getting your damn food," Brad huffs to himself in feigned offense, "Let's go, I know a shortcut."
He doesn't wait for a response. Instead turning on his heel to walk down the lane before slinking into a nearby street corner. Lloyd scoffs at the sight, his smirk widening as he shuffles to trail behind him. When your childhood friend invites you to a dark alley promising good food, who wouldn't follow?
He easily catches up to Brad, tailing him with each turn through the labyrinth that is Ninjago City's streets. A comfortable silence falls upon them as they walk together, and he finds himself unwinding slightly.
He vaguely remembers the connected paths and tricky intersections of these dusty roads from his late-night patrols. It helps to know where you can slip through for emergencies and villain attacks, after all. The occasional thug or four tend to stir up trouble in these areas, but he only ever comes by to make quick work of them before swiftly leaving again.
Now that he's here though…
He scrutinizes the darkening halls, squinting up at the various forms of spray-painted graffiti. The walls only get more defaced as they get further in, especially as the space shrinks to push him and Brad closer together. Random messages and gang insignia scrawled in clashing colors and even worse handwriting… and a few mandatory crude doodles. He's noticed street art like this before, in the rush of one of his scuffles ages ago. Since then, he could only remember the distaste that sat in the back of his brain.
Brad snorts slightly, "Not into the paints, huh?"
"Psh, nah. It's just amateur work. My uncle could do something better than whatever this is."
"Hey! Don't be quick to judge! What if I made one of these?"
"Ew. I thought you'd know better."
"That's cold, Garmadon.."
He smiles coolly, meeting Brad's mischievous glance as they continue to peruse their surroundings. Brad eventually slows to a stop, moving to the side to let Lloyd have a good view of this so-called mythical ramen shop.
It's an unassuming entrance, the signs at the front long faded from the years of harsh weather and city attacks (probably mostly the city attacks). He could somewhat make out letters that maybe spelled out menu items. Surprisingly, it's the only part of the alley that wasn't (terribly) vandalized.
Brad steps forward and opens the door for him, flashing a haughty grin as he sweeps an arm towards the door. What a gentleman.
Lloyd does the lowest effort curtsy at him before elbowing him to get inside. It startles a laugh out of Brad and he pushes them both through the small entryway.
The interior is a stark contrast from the chill outside, the whole place seems to emanate orange. Brad sidles on, chipper as he's easily stepping into a narrow path to a small stool. Lloyd follows suit, seating himself next to him as they greet the lone cook across the counter.
No words are exchanged after that as she turns her back to prepare their bowls and readies their sides. Lloyd blinks, settling himself in the ambience of the small establishment as he takes in his environment.
He notes that the only other door in the room leads upstairs and there's not many windows. By the looks of it, this place might have been an apartment refurbished into a small ramen spot for the area, and it sure feels like it.
The walls are plastered with different kinds of posters and paintings that have been hung up for ages, trinkets littered about on the shelves, and there's an old musty ventilator that probably needs a good cleaning. There's even one of those big paintings that every old person has in their house of him against the Overlord. He fights the urge to roll his eyes. How gaudy.
He doesn't miss how cramped the space is for the customers. Tables for four somehow fit snugly into the other half of the room. The stools nearly hug the counter and he's become acutely aware of how Brad's knee is accidentally bumping into his leg.
He lightly bumps back, which makes Brad smile at him.
The bowls come quick, and he feels Brad pull back to give his thanks. The steam wafts and reveals a sizable pile of toppings on long noodles. He's shocked at how intense his stomach rumbles when the aroma of torched pork and smooth bone broth meets his nose. Did he eat anything today?
Like a man possessed, he zones in and does light work on the meal… which means scarfing down piping hot noodles and chugging soup as if his life depended on it.
The dish nearly clatters at the speed he places it down, and he breathes deeply through his nose. He feels Brad stare sharply at him, gauging his reaction as he composes himself to admit what he once thought was impossible.
"It's.. it's good."
Brad smirks.
"Would you say.. even better than Chen's Noodles?"
Lloyd closes his eyes to avoid the cook's expectant gaze. His jaw clenching as he looks away in shame.
"… Yes." Sorry, Skylor…
The clink of ceramic makes him glance down to find his bowl was topped up with extra charred pork. He stares at the old cook before him, her face crinkled in amusement.
"Okay. Yeah. Better than Chen's."
He hears Brad break into laughter as he finishes another full bowl in record time.
His chest bubbles up, the broth is probably not settling well in his throat, but in his hunger he persists.
The lady is off doing chores further to the side, back turned to them. He doesn't ask for a third helping, rather turns to Brad and chat to pass the time. He's picking at his own food, waiting for it to cool. They catch up for the week, soft voices fading into the clattering of the kitchen and the occasional accidental toe stubbing. He tries to sneak his chopsticks onto Brad's food, attempting to nab at whatever he could. He keeps up somehow, aptly avoiding any spills as he expertly matches quick jabs with quicker dodges.
He considers another attempt before he notices Brad stare at him oddly. He trails off, watching as nimble fingers reach out to zip the rest of his lopsided coat. He didn't even notice it slipping.
Brad lingers, and it freezes him in place. This time, he gets a good look at him. He traces the contours of his face, trailing up his nose and they catch each other's eyes.
He's shaken out of his stupor when Brad moves first, hunching back over his meal to cool another bite. He speaks again, casually continuing from Lloyd's previous train of thought and agreeing with him on a point he was apparently making before that.
He decides to take it in stride, nodding along as they fall back into an easy back and forth. It distracts him enough to start paying attention to Brad's food again, eyeing a perfectly boiled egg seeping into the soup. He pouts, weakly attempting to sway him in for another bite.
"I'm not giving you any more of my noodles, dude."
They bid their goodbyes as they step out into the cold once more. It's stopped snowing, but Lloyd already misses the heater. He sniffs at the coat, finding that it carries the faint smell of pork. He's going to have to run it in the washer immediately after getting home.
They were distant thoughts in his head as he was plunged into a debate that caught on his mind since he spotted it in online forums. It led him down a rabbit hole of other comic issues he's missed over the years, and the polarising opinions didn't lend well to a film he's seen since he was still at Darkley's.
They walked close together as he gestured about, mouth running as he rambled all that he could. Brad dared to challenge him on some aspects, and he'd graciously defend his honor.
It doesn't get anything like how he and Jay would argue about the comics, though. Brad probably wouldn't be able to take it if he tackled him to the ground anyway.
"Anyway- where was your apartment again? We're pretty close, right?"
"We passed by it earlier."
Lloyd stops in his tracks, eyebrows bunching in confusion as he scans Brad's neutral stare. He cranes his head to glance behind Brad, searching down the various cement walls.
They're almost a block away from his apartment.
He splutters for a bit, feeling heat creeping into his face. "Why didn't you stop me!?"
Brad shrugs. Unbothered that a supposed trained ninja warrior was totally out of it talking about space ranger comics and missed an entire building.
"You were really deep into it, dude. It's cool. 'Sides, I like hearing you talk about stuff you like."
Lloyd gapes at him. Brad blinks in response.
He could only swallow down his embarrassment as he grips at Brad's wrist to turn them back and briskly walk down the street.
"Aww, I wanted you to keep going. Maybe you could have brought us to a different city if you didn't notice."
Lloyd groans, trying (and failing) to will away the blush burning up his face.
Once they finally get there, he realizes what he's been doing and lets go of his hand like he's been burnt. Shoving it into his pant pocket as he glares at the taller man.
"What? No kiss goodbye?"
"Ugh, just go home, man."
Brad only snickers at his half-hearted quip, skipping up the steps to the building. Before he fully heads right on through the door, he looks behind him for one last moment.
"Same time next week? Maybe we can revisit that movie… I'm sure Gene's got a copy somewhere we can steal."
Lloyd can feel himself smiling at the thought already, a soft hum escaping his lips.
"… Yeah, I'd like that."