Tart
~*~*~*~*
Zuko loved tarts. Any kind of filling — custard, chocolate, fruit, he loved them all. Really, he did, but this was ridiculous, he thought as he leered at the white box in his hand. The tart had been small, just big enough for one person, about the size of Zuko's palm; therefore, he had assumed that when the little old lady behind the counter at the bakery wrapped it up for him, that it would be in a small box to perfectly accommodate the tasty treat. However, Zuko had apparently thought completely wrong. The box they put it in was about three times the size of the tart, making his flaky piece of heaven slide around and bump into the cardstock sides, which surely was not proper treatment for such a delicate pastry. Not only was the box too big, but the label was ludicrous. It was about twice the length of the box, so the end of it hung off, causing the adhesive backing to stick to Zuko's hand and fingers as he tried to maneuver the box in such a way that he could open it and eat the sunnuvabitch.
"Need a hand, Li?"
Zuko growled. This box was not smarter than him. He would get the oppressive device open and he would eat his treat! Why was the world conspiring against him? What had he done to anger the pastry gods so they would deny him his one indulgence?
"Seriously, man, this is pathetic. Give me the box."
"No!" Zuko snapped at Jet, making the other chuckle. Really, his boyfriend was so stubborn. "I'll open it by myself!"
"Wait, wait, wait," Jet placated, placing his hands over Zuko's to still them. When they stopped wriggling, Jet took the tail of the label between his thumb and index finger and ripped it off the box in one smooth motion. "There."
"Ass," Zuko grumbled, finally opening his box to extract the creamy delicacy reverently. "…Whateverthanks."
"Hey, what are boyfriends for?" Jet took this time to study the label. It read 'TART' in bold, black letters at the top, then the price and barcode. With a wicked smirk, he straightened the label out and clapped his hand on Zuko's butt, making the label stick to the seat of his pants. Zuko jumped and squeaked in a very unmanly way.
"What the hell, Jet?" he snapped through a mouthful of chocolate tart. The boy looked over his shoulder, trying to see what Jet did to his behind.
"Just putting the merchandise on display" Jet said silkily with a devilish twinkle in his eye.
"Merchandise on display? What, tell the world that I'm a dollar fifty-five tart?" Really, he tried to be angry about it, but it was hard to be mad at Jet's jokes. They were usually crass or lame (or both), but they were always amusing because he was, well, Jet. It's what he did.
"Eeeexactly!" Jet grinned, giving Zuko's rear a good squeeze before throwing his arm around his shoulder. "Wouldn't want people to think you're a whore or nothin'."
"No, of course not, whores are expensive. I'm just a cheap tart. I see how it is." Zuko tried to contain his half-smile as he shoved the last bite of tart into his mouth.
"I tell it how it is, babycakes," Jet said with a fake Brooklyn accent, shrugging. Zuko chuckled and tossed the waytoobig box away, wiping his hands on his jeans before giving a smirk of his own.
"You do realize this means you'll have to pay me for blowjobs now, right?"
"Aw, man! Shot myself in the foot again. What if I just buy you a chocolate tart every day?"
"Hm," Zuko pondered as they exited the bakery, his arm now around Jet's waist. "I'm sure we can work something out."