Huitlacoche

Rating: Teen, for innuendo.

Beta Reader: Amles80

Warning: José's sense of humor is as bad as Conrad's, the only smut included is the fungal type.

Author's Notes: I realize this is kind of corny, but it's just for fun. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou kara Maou

For the past forty-five minutes the scenery hadn't changed much. Neither had Conrad Weller's expression. Or at least José was reasonably certain Conrad's expression hadn't changed. He had to keep his eyes on the road after all, and for all he knew, Conrad could be making faces at him while José watched yellow dirt, unkempt grass, and highway signs.

They had started out in Caballo, New Mexico with its gray rock, yellow-brown dirt and low shrubbery. Then they left most of the mountains behind and passed into Texas, where there were a few more short scraggly trees and browning grass broken up by the occasional patch of cultivated crops. Conrad had asked about the dark green plants in the desert, and José explained about irrigation. Because Texans could be very irrigating sometimes. Conrad had let it slip that José would be considered very attractive in Shin Makoku, but then went back to emo-angsting with a vengeance. José wondered if he should tell Conrad how attractive he was considered on Earth, but then figured the half-mazoku would find out on his own soon enough.

José glanced over at his travel companion. As expected, Conrad's expression was that of barely contained emo-melancholy. Even with a frown, he was still good looking. A few wisps of hair fell into his face and he was staring straight ahead with the blue pendant clenched in his hand. Conrad had said exactly twelve words since the last pit stop, which was probably a new record in verbosity for him. José enjoyed having conversations more than silence, but it was hard having one-sided conversations all the time.

Conrad hadn't said much about José's comic collection or action figures either, which had been disappointing. He had worried that they shared no interests until he made a bad pun. Conrad's expression had softened, and he seemed to enjoy himself for a few minutes. Unfortunately, finding something else that interested Conrad was proving to be difficult.

"Let's listen to the radio." José reached over and turned a knob. "What would you like to listen to?" No answer. "Vallenato is good."

Conrad tilted his head forward so that even more strands of hair fell into his face, which was the universally accepted emo-language for "Why can't you just leave me alone to angst in peace?"

A short distance down the dusty road, José spotted a road-side taco vendor. They sold all kinds of tacos, including huitlacoche. Taquitos, actually, since they were smaller and rolled up and fried until the soft corn tortilla hardened. José smiled at the thought of potential food-innuendo. Conrad liked puns, maybe he would enjoy innuendo. José liked having fun. And teasing a hot guy with some food innuendo was definitely fun.

He pulled over and parked the truck. "Do you want to try some corn smut?" José asked.

That got a reaction. Conrad sat up for a few seconds, eyes widened in surprise. He leaned back and scowled when he realized José was teasing him.

José laughed. "I'll go buy us some," he said, getting out of the truck.

Conrad gave him a look that was the epitome of long-suffering emo angst, got out of the truck, and leaned against the cab instead of following.

-o0o-

Conrad peered out from under his hair and watched as José approached one of the vendors and started talking in a language that wasn't English. Soon the woman was laughing at one of José's jokes. He had a way with people. Spending time with José sometimes Conrad would find himself having fun too, which was problematic. He didn't deserve to enjoy himself, not after what he'd been through, what he'd done…

But then he had wondered how green plants were clustered in the desert and José had explained but Conrad didn't really understand until the doctor stopped the car, walked over to a field and pointed to the long spindly invention moving through the field. And Conrad had leaned too close and gotten wet and José had laughed. Not an unkind laugh. Something more full of love of life and happiness with his mouth open and Conrad had realized that José was even more beautiful than just his exotic good looks. Not the same type of beautiful as Julia, but a more boisterous and enthusiastic cheerfulness and goodwill.

Then José was back and was pressing something warm and covered in crinkly greasy paper into his hand. It smelled of over-used cooking oil and spices that Conrad couldn't identify.

Conrad gave him an uncertain look.

"It's food," José explained, "Tastes like fried mushrooms."

Conrad removed the paper to look at the long hard object underneath. It was shaped and folded as if it had been rolled up, hard enough to have been fried, and with the way it was sagging and dripping in the middle, contained a filling.

Conrad peeled part of the corn shell away and looked at the assorted clumps of green, black, red and yellow inside.

"That's not how you eat it," José said, carefully positioning the paper around his own food. "Here, watch me."

José began eating his taquito, delicately licking off the excess juices before putting one end in his mouth. It was almost obscene the way José moved his mouth and tongue around the food, but perhaps that was his intention. Then he smirked and it was almost a leer, but his eyes weren't unkind, and Conrad realized José was teasing him.

He took a tentative bite. It was surprisingly good, reminding Conrad of the royal truffles his mother would sometimes serve during dinner parties at Blood Pledge Castle. Conrad continued to eat his taquito sensually, nibbling on the sides and using more tongue than necessary. It was worth it just to see the surprised look on José's face.

"If you like this kind of thing, we could try huevos rancheros next," José suggested.

Conrad just frowned, wondering what he was missing this time. More food innuendo?

But José's performance didn't explain why this food was called corn smut. Conrad remembered learning a different meaning to the word, and these mushrooms weren't even corn, and when he asked José about it the doctor just laughed and promised to stop at the next cornfield to explain.

-o0o-

José's intentions were purely academic. He had absolutely no ulterior motive for stopping the car on a deserted dirt road at the edge of a cornfield. None at all. He had finished with the innuendo and now it was fun 'hands-on' learning time. Or at least that's what he told himself as he stepped out of the car. From the small quirk at the side of Conrad's mouth, apparently he didn't share the doctor's conviction. Either that or he had a different type of hands-on learning in mind.

The corn plants were tall with flowering tassels up top, and ears forming at the base of some of the long slender leaves. José walked down a row until he found an infected plant.

"The fungus gets inside the kernel and then it forms a gall, see?" The swollen kernels were a pale marbled blue and green color. José handed the ear of corn to Conrad. Their hands brushed and lingered longer than necessary.

"And then the mycelium spread inside and it hardens," Jose paused. Why did the fungus have to get hard and bulge out? And expand until the gall burst? He hadn't meant to continue with the innuendo, now Conrad was going to think he was a huge pervert. "I mean, it expands and keeps growing," José corrected. Whoops. That hadn't sounded much better.

Conrad didn't say anything, but he smiled as if holding back laughter.

José scratched his head. He was so much prettier when he smiled. No, he needed to stop thinking about how Conrad looked when he was smiling and concentrate on explaining fungal life cycles. Except that it was hard to concentrate and it was hot with only the hint of a breeze rustling the tassels on top of the corn. Jose unbuttoned his shirt collar. "Hot out, isn't it?" he remarked, then nearly face-palmed when he realized how that must have sounded.

Conrad's smile widened and he delicately unbuttoned his own shirt collar.

"And then," José continued, "It starts to form teliospores inside." It was when he was trying to explain the fungal life cycle and how it was dependent on external environment, like moisture and heat, that José noticed Conrad was standing a lot closer. Almost pressing against him, breathing down his neck even. But not the annoying kind of breathing down a neck. Conrad's breath was warm. And his lips were close to José's ear.

"José, there's another meaning to the word smut, isn't there?" Conrad asked.

José undid another button on his shirt. He was sweating, from the heat of course. He looked at Conrad and noticed the other man already had his own shirt completely unbuttoned. José gulped. He hadn't meant for the innuendo to go this far, but that didn't mean he was displeased with the results. Not at all.

"Well, you know what they say about corn smut," José quipped, "If you have the gall to pull it off, it's a-maize-ing."

For anyone else, such a corny joke would have spoiled the mood, but Conrad just smiled and pressed his lips to José's.