Title: Box Lunch
Characters/Pairings: Yamamoto/Gokudera
Summary: Yamamoto attempts to make Gokudera's lunch. Gokudera is not entirely impressed.
Notes: General audiences. For Round III of KHRfest, prompt V-55. Yamamoto/Gokudera – fluff; "Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly." Solid fluff. 884 words.

Box Lunch

"What," Hayato said, speaking clearly and distinctly so that he would not be misunderstood, "the hell are you doing?"

Takeshi did not answer immediately, as he was presently occupied with carving a--Hayato didn't really want to look closer and find out for sure, but he couldn't quite help himself--a hot dog into an octopus. A set of octopodes. Something like that. When he was finished, he nestled them into the cheerfully lacquered box under the benign gaze of its Hello Kitty lid. Then he looked up, favoring Hayato with a broad grin. "I'm making your lunch!" he announced.

Hayato looked at the box, with its flock--herd--cluster? What was the collective noun for a bunch of weiner octopodes? Was there one? He didn't know. Whatever they were called, the weiner octopodes were nestled next to a smooth mound of rice that had been decorated with carefully cut and arranged nori so that it bore a remarkable resemblance to the Storm crest. The bento was only partially filled; there were an array of other things on the counter, from tiny sauce bottles in the shapes of stars and hearts to precisely-cut vegetables that looked like the makings of a salad to a couple of daifuku in dainty pink. There was a piece of cloth, too, that Hayato suspected was probably meant for the furoshiki. It was patterned with smiley-faced clouds. And rainbows.

Hayato could feel the vein in his forehead beginning to throb.

"I," he said, gritting his teeth to keep himself from shouting, "am a grown man. And I am going to a meeting with Bruno 'Kneecaps' Mazzocchetti. And you're making me a bento with Hello Kitty on it?"

Takeshi looked down at his work and then at Hayato. His forehead wrinkled as he frowned. "You think I should make one for him, too?"

"Oh my God, you are--" Hayato began, not even sure where to begin addressing the sheer scope of Takeshi's idiocy. Then he realized that Takeshi's eyes were glimmering with mirth. "--such an asshole," he finished. He gave Takeshi's chest a good thwack just to emphasize the point.

Takeshi held onto his innocent air, rubbing his chest and summoning up a mournful look. It was the one that put Hayato in mind of sad puppies in the snow. "Don't you like it?" he asked as he surveyed his work. "It's the octopuses, isn't it? You don't like octopuses, do you? I knew they were too much."

"No, seriously, such an asshole," Hayato repeated. He peered at the partially-assembled bento, wondering how much time Takeshi had spent putting it all together just for the sake of getting a rise out of him. "I'm going to tell the Tenth that you have way too much time on your hands," he added. He reached past Takeshi and stole one of the octopodes, popping it in his mouth.

Takeshi gave up pretending to be hurt and grinned at him. "Naw, it didn't take that long. Half hour, maybe." He grabbed one of the daifuku and bit into it. When he'd swallowed the mouthful, he added, "Besides, it was totally worth it for the look on your face when I asked you whether Kneecaps would want one of his own."

"You know, it never ceases to amaze me that you've actually survived this long without someone killing you out of sheer aggravation," Hayato told him, stealing another of the octopodes. They weren't bad, but then, he'd never seen Takeshi actually screw something up in the kitchen.

"You know, Squalo says the exact same thing all the time," Takeshi said. He sounded way too cheerful about it, like that wasn't a sweeping condemnation of his character.

Hayato swallowed the last of his octopus as he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I just bet he does." Hayato checked the time. "Okay, I've got to get going soon."

"Yeah?" Takeshi set his daifuku down and reached for Hayato, hooking his fingers in Hayato's belt loops and pulling him in close. His mouth tasted sweet, of red bean paste and mochi, and he seemed reluctant to let Hayato go. "Give ol' Kneecaps my regards," he said when he finally did.

Hayato rolled his eyes again. "I want this meeting to go well."

Takeshi just ducked his head, grinning. "Aw, he can't still be mad about that."

Considering the last time he and Kneecaps Mazzocchetti had encountered each other, Hayato had his doubts. "Wanna bet?" Hayato shook himself before Takeshi could argue with him. "Okay, seriously. Gotta go. The Tenth'll be waiting."

"Yeah, okay. See you tonight," Takeshi told him, but not before stealing one last kiss, and then Hayato had to make a dash out the door to meet the Tenth.

It wasn't until much later that morning that Hayato put a hand in his pocket and found that Takeshi had snuck one of the little heart-shaped sauce containers into it. When he did, he was hard-pressed to explain his smile to Kneecaps Mazzocchetti and the Tenth.

And, though he would have denied it to his dying breath, his hand kept returning to his pocket all day to trace the shape of it: cheap plastic seams curving to a point, rough against his fingertips, reminding him what he had to go home to.

end

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