Kotetsu was possibly the most annoying laugh-stifler to ever exist on the planet. But it should be expected, with someone who's voice could break atmosphere, that his methods of keeping humor at Barnaby's expense under his palm was nothing close to muted. The blond-headed Hero looked up over his shivering chopsticks, catching the crooked amused grin escaping around Kotetsu's thumb, and scowled.
"Na, Bunny... You're not very good at this."
In Kotetsu's other hand, chopsticks held with precision. And Kotetsu and precision should never have eloped into the same sentence. Ever. So the scowl remained and his eyes narrowed behind his glasses.
"I'm aware."
He didn't even want this greasy food, anyway. The sheen of grease on it was enough to make him give up food for the rest of his life. But Kotetsu reassured him—over and over again, mind you, in the gym, in the office, in the lounge—this place was great. Not one of the times to trust your partner, when his idea of a well-cooked meal is mayonnaise and ketchup slathered on left over rice. The smile on Kotetsu's face across the table dimmed down, just a bit, but his eyes still had that annoyingly endearing twinkle of humor.
"... You need some help with that?"
"No. It can't be that hard." ... A pause. "If you're capable of using them."
The grin and the twinkle dissipated, leaving a scowl. Ha. Much better.
"Tch—oi, oi! What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing at all. I can do this by myself."
And Barnaby settled right back into struggling with his own pair of utensils; it was easier to grapple with criminals, than these damned things. Forks were so much more manageable. In fact, he was just about to put down the chopsticks, swallow his pride (it crashed and burned the moment he dropped noodles on his good pants), and politely request a fork, when Kotetsu suddenly started walking around the table with a hand on his hip.
Must have got that hip thing from him. Ugh.
"Here. Lemme just show you, huh?" He slapped the wooden sticks—wooden sticks, seriously, how do you even eat with those—into the young hero's hands, and began to mold them, guide them. Correctly and efficiently. "Kaede used to have a lot of problems holding her own when she was little, so I'm pretty used to this."
Being compared to a tiny kid wasn't exactly Barnaby's favorite thing in the world. But when he glanced at Kotetsu over his shoulder with a disapproving frown, it lightened considerably. Kotetsu's own expression was soft, nothing at all like the twinkling, teasing expression hidden under his hand; it was sympathetic and understanding. Something you couldn't really scowl at. Trust him, he tried.
"You've never had people to help you out about these things, right? But you don't always have to say you can do it by yourself. So. Let people help you out now, aa?"
Barnaby stared with eyes that may or may not have been child-like—before looking down at his own hand, now holding the chopsticks as they should've been. He let out a low, annoyed sigh, but when he smiled down at his plate, it was content.
"This food still looks awful."
a/n: Just a quick write-up; personally, I think Barnaby would probably know how to use chopsticks being as world-savvy as he is (especially if he's eaten in different places, for Hero or non-Hero-related events alike), but this was a request from the t&b anon community on livejournal. Un-anoned now, I suppose!
Hope you enjoyed.