"So, uh... are you free this Sunday?" Len asked, forcibly wedging a fourth plastic pot of daffodils into a small metal étagère. He was pretty sure each of these containers could hold only three, but Piko had insisted that a fourth would fit- snugly, but it would fit.

Some earth had already spilled onto the floor.

"Oh my," Piko gasped, placing a dirty hand on his cheek for dramatic effect, "are you asking me out on a date?"

Len shrugged, returning to glaring at his now mangled flowerpot. "I hoped it could be one, but if you don't want to, that's fine, too," he said, then tried fitting that stupid, stupid daffodil into the container once more- to no avail, naturally.

"No, I think it's nice. Let's go," Piko replied, lost in the task of plucking wiltered blossoms from his bright pink primroses. (Len was somewhat proud of the fact that he could identify them so easily by now.) "If we're dating, we gotta go on dates, after all," he added, if only as an afterthought.

"Where do you wanna go, then?" Len asked and finally- finally!- got the damn pot in there. Not that it looked healthy, with the bulbs squished together like that, but at least he'd gotten the job done.

"Can I pick anywhere at all?" Piko asked in return, yet never took his eyes off the flowers. But before Len could answer- reassure him that, yes, sure, anywhere is fine, as long as it's realistic- he went on, "I'd love to go to the arcade, then. I haven't been to one in ages."

"That's the last thing I expected you to pick, honestly," Len replied, wiping his dirty hands on his pants before realising his error. Oh well, he'd still have time to change, later on. "Are you even into gaming?"

The grin spreading across Piko's face as he looked up pretty much answered the question already. "Oh, sweet summer child," he laughed, a bit manically, "I used to own gaming, back in school. I might've gotten a bit rusty over time, but I'm confident I could still destroy most casuals, no problem."

"'Casuals,' he says," Len muttered, mostly to himself, and pulled out his phone, opening the calendar app. "When should we go? I was thinking early afternoon, but…"

"Sure, that's fine by me. Around one should be good," Piko agreed, attention shifting back to his primroses.

Len added the date into his app, chose the most obnoxious ringtone for the reminder before pocketing his phone again. "And we'll have all the time in the world to grab something to eat, afterwards," he mused, gaze flicking towards the counter.

"And also," Piko began, obviously trying to keep his eyes on the flowers to look innocent, "it gives you time to recover for when I wipe the floor with you."

"I can't believe you," Len whispered, his throat dry as parchment. He'd thought he knew what it felt like to be completely and utterly exhausted- both physically and mentally- but today had taught him that he'd known not a single damn thing yet.

And Piko- goddamn Piko- did nothing but laugh that stupid, pretty laugh of his while swinging their linked hands between them as they walked. "You know, I did warn you. It's not my fault you took me lightly," he sing-songed as though he hadn't crushed his boyfriend's ego in one afternoon before taking a bite out of the crêpe he held in his free hand. "Stop moping already."

Len pouted. "I'm not moping," he mumbled and puffed his cheeks out. Piko thoughtlessly let out a snort at that- right into the whipped cream on top of his crêpe. Naturally, a good portion of that cream was then airborne, heading straight for Piko's face.

He glared at his pancake as though it had personally offended him.

"Sorry?" Len somehow managed to choke out before he had to slap a hand across his mouth in order not to laugh.

"All is well," Piko exhaled, then turned to look at Len with the single most dramtic solemn expression of all time. "But you know," he went on, letting go of the hand he'd been holding onto, still, "I'm a bit disappointed in myself. Having my face creamed on on my first official date is kinda slutty."

Len proceeded to choke on his spit for a full two minutes.