Breakfast in Bed

Very few times was sleep disturbed for him, the sounds of the city like a lullaby, the gentle thrum of Talv far off a comfort and not a worry like for so many others. This morning was not like most mornings, as most mornings a bag of pastries didn't usually strike Chiiri in the head followed by boisterous laughter.
Sitting up, the bag fell into his lap, spilling chocolate croissants and fruity danishes into the hammock, while Sekhm and Lorenzo laughed from sitting on the brick wall surrounding the rooftop.
“Oh man, never seen him wake up that fast before, holy shit.”
“Well, I guess you could say we brought breakfast in bed.”
With a roll of his eyes, Chiiri managed to reach over far enough to snap one of his prosthetics into socket without pitching over the side of the hammock. The other would have to wait, as he started putting all the warm, flaky breakfast goodies back into the bag with a yawn.
“What time is it? What're you doin’ here so early?”
Sekhm snorted, chewing on the remains of a powdered donut.
“Dude, it's like 11am. Figured we'd bring you something to eat.” He held out the last remains of the donut, offering the rest of it. “Wanna bite?”
One could hardly call it that, but he took it anyways, chasing it down with a mouthful of danish.
“Ugh, gross. You have no idea where his mouth’s been, you know. He could have rabies.” Lorenzo’s quip earned him a playful shove, and soon Sekhm grabbed his scarf to wrap around his own neck, claiming he was freezing, revealing trails of bruises along the other's neck.
“...I can take a guess.”
Breakfast with the pair was quiet, mostly small talk and eating, occasionally passing around a box or coffee to refill their cups, and that calm just like Chiiri’s peaceful sleep was broken by Sekhm. He pointed a finger at Chiiri’s arm, or lack thereof, and gulped down the last of his coffee.
“So you don't sleep with those things on?” he'd never bothered to ask before, but rarely he was ever here this early to actually see him roll out of bed.
“Nah, wake up to cutting yourself on fiberglass or getting your hair caught in the electronics and ya learn not to do that again real quick.” For emphasis, Chiiri rubbed his hand over his pants until the silicone guard over the wrist rolled up, revealing a mess of wires, joints, and sharp edges all too easy to hurt one's self on. The other omnia winced, and had another question.
“Why not just put a guard on it, like this part?” He tapped on his forearm, a long piece of white fiberglass decorated with orange circuits.
It was difficult to explain how exactly the wrist joint on his prosthetic worked. It took Sekhm a while and some poking to understand how he needed the area free in order to move his wrist or have use of his fingers, a sacrifice of durability for function. ‘Why not just make one that's both?’ Was a frequent question to any sort of limitation Chiiri brought up, and even as he began to grow frustrated, he attempted to explain it didn't work that way.
Eventually, Lorenzo butted in, pressing a hand to Sekhm’s chest. He changed the topic slightly, instead asking about the aesthetic of his designs.
“I like the white, by the way, why did you go with that and so obviously… pardon my language, but so obviously fake rather than for realism?” He paused, eyes drifting to Sekhm for but a moment as he sipped his coffee. Sekhm seemed to of already forgotten his nitpicking, tapping away on his phone. “I mean, we've all seen those covers you made for them, and they do look startlingly real.”
Chiiri liked answering that much better.
“I mean, kinda the same answer to why I got the bars on my face, or why I got sneakers instead of suit shoes. I just like ‘em like that.” Lorenzo chuckled quietly, sitting back and leaning against Sekhm’s shoulder.
“I suppose I expected that. Also answers another deeply burning question of mine. If it's not a bother, I have been wondering why just you got those on your face of all places, and not somewhere more… professional.”
“What, the bars?” Chiiri tapped his cheek, where the double bars went from his eye down to his jaw, eventually connecting with the circuit tattoos leading down onto his arms.
“Precisely.”
“I mean, we'll I got two answers. One, because of the Raccoon God, and two ‘cause they're part of the solar collectors for my prosthetics.” Not just Lorenzo but Sekhm as well seemed deeply interested in that answer, and Chiiri continued. “Oh you guys didn't know that? They're uh, kinda like a solar panel, so if I'm out in the daytime, helps keep my arms workin’ without draining the battery.”
Instantly both had questions.
“If it's a solar panel, why the fuck is it orange?”
“Why the face, and so little, rather than your legs? Surely you could get more surface area that way, and more power.”
Chiiri took a moment to consider his answer, pointing at each as he answered their own individual questions.
“Because fuck you, I like orange, and I look bad in shorts.”