Chocolate Frosting
Disclaimer: Well, I can't say that I own Yami no Matsuei, and I don't make any profit off of writing fanfics about the characters, but there's a can of chocolate frosting in my fridge that I do own, so there!
Rating: PG for shounen-ai and general Watari antics.
Pairing: Watari/Tatsumi (pre-established)
Summary: Birthday wishes for our favorite moody secretary from a certain mad scientist.
Notes: It's Tatsumi's birthday! No really, it is. Yoko Matsushita gave all the cast members specific birthdays…except for Tatsumi because nobody knows what year he was born in or when he died. Ah well, it's Tatsumi, he's supposed to be obscure, he's the shadow master.
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The pile of paperwork on Tatsumi's desk showed no signs of reduction, not even after six straight hours of working at it. The pile in the out box paled in comparison to the tower of color coordinated, collated forms and returns and files that trembled and shuddered in the in box. There probably wouldn't have been this much work had all of Enma-cho not been shut down for twenty-four hours. However, it was the one mandated holiday that everyone had off, regardless. Tatsumi considered giving Christmas off a waste of time and productivity. Besides, it wasn't like any of them had places to be for the holiday, they were all dead. He sighed; removing his glasses long enough to rub his eyes before attacking the form on the blotter in front of him.
The door creaked slightly as it opened. Tatsumi didn't even bother looking up; too busy correcting Tsuzuki's miserable grammar.
"The answer is no, Watari," he stated.
The blonde scientist grinned. "Good, the question was do you mind if I come in?"
"I'm busy, Watari, go away. I don't have time to play your ridiculous games right now, I'm incredibly behind in my paperwork and your distractions are not welcome at this time."
"Not even a chocolate frosted distraction?" the younger Shinigami suggested, holding out a box tied off with white string, obviously something from one of the many bakeries Wakaba frequented when off picking up more treats for Tsuzuki.
"I'm not hungry."
Watari moved a pile of papers to the floor and sat down on the edge of the desk, swinging his long legs back and forth. "Not even for a little birthday cake?"
Tatsumi paused, his pen still raised above the paper. "What did you say?"
"Birthday cake. That's what this is, Tatsumi, your birthday cake. December twenty-seventh, that's your birthday, isn't it? It's today. Or had you forgotten?"
He hadn't forgotten, merely not reminded himself over the course of the day. He'd thought of it at some point but put the thought out of his head. Nobody remembered his birthday anyways, not when it was two days after Christmas. Everyone had wished him a merry Christmas on their way out the door, but not a single coworker, not even Tsuzuki, who'd known him the longest, had said a word about his birthday. Then again, Tatsumi tended not to think of any aspect of his miserable life. Only the task at hand, his appointed job here in the afterlife.
"No, Watari, I hadn't," he sighed. "But I don't want any cake. Give it to Tsuzuki."
"Oh no, he's not getting a bite of this! Not after I spent the very last yen I had getting you this cake!" Watari protested.
Tatsumi glanced up at him and smirked. "You wouldn't be broke if I hadn't needed to dock your pay for blowing up the laboratory again."
"I wouldn't have blown up the lab if Tsuzuki hadn't come in and distracted me. I was doing a very delicate experiment and he comes barging in to complain about what new curses Terazuma invented to use on him."
"Now you know how I feel when you come in on me."
He stuck his tongue out. "Since when are you working on a temporary paralysis potion that could be used on demons giving Shinigami a hard time, eh? If I'd gotten that to work, which I would have so don't give me that glare of doubt, we'd have far fewer agents coming into the infirmary."
"I'll speak to Tsuzuki later. Now go, Watari. I'm busy."
"You're always busy!" Watari cried, setting down the box and jumping off the desk. "I never see you anymore, Tatsumi! You lock yourself in here day after day and night after night. You don't sleep, you don't eat, by the gods it's like you're a machine! Can't you take five minutes to just relax, have a little birthday cake, and talk to me?"
"No, I can't."
Watari's expression turned manic. With a broad sweep of his arm he scattered the piles of paper on the desk, sending them floating to the floor. "Now you can."
"Thanks a lot, Watari," he answered sarcastically. "Now instead of another twelve hours to finish all of that, it's going to take me twenty-four."
The blonde reached across the desk, grabbed the secretary by the tie, wrenched him forward, and delivered a brutal kiss. Tatsumi's eyes widened behind his glasses, his whole body going slack.
"Watari…"
He smiled smugly. "Nice to know I can still leave you speechless."
"You're an obnoxious brat, you know," Tatsumi sighed, regaining his composure. He reached into his desk for a knife and cut the strings surrounding the little pink pastry box.
"Oh, but you love me for it. Sorry I don't have any plates or anything, I was in a rush to get this and get back here before you or Konoe flipped out on me for not managing my time or being counterproductive. You know, one of your favorite speeches."
The box collapsed outward, revealing a small, heavily frosted birthday cake. Watari reached into his pockets and pulled out a handful of candles, setting them into the confection before lighting them.
"Happy birthday, Seiichiro. Make a wish."
"I wish you and Tsuzuki would stop wasting the company's expenses," he groused.
Watari pouted. "A real wish, you jerk."
"That is my real wish, pest," he retorted, blowing out the candles quickly. "You do know I'm not very hungry, right?"
He shrugged. "You're eating some anyways, so don't argue with me. I know you haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning, and one cannot survive on coffee alone, immortal or not."
The two men ate in silence, fingers sticky with frosting. Watari could've cared less; his fingers were generally sticky anyways with whatever sort of concoction he was currently working on. Tatsumi rummaged around with whatever clean bits of hand he had until he found an old handful of napkins in the back of his desk.
"Thank you, Watari."
"Thank you, Yutaka," he corrected. "One of these days you're going to call me by my first name, even if it kills you all over again."
He shook his head. "Not while we're at work, I'm not."
"Oh, like anybody's going to hear us, Seii."
"I told you not to call me that. It sounds like something you'd name a goldfish."
Watari made a face. "Goldfish? Who in their right mind names a goldfish? They don't live more than a week."
"Well, anyways, thank you. I appreciate your consideration. I doubt anyone else even knows it's my birthday."
"That's what you get being born so close to Christmas."
Tatsumi swatted the back of his head. "Idiot. Like I had a choice when I could've been born."
"Hey! Don't hit me!" Watari pouted. "Keep that up and there'll be no birthday presents."
"I thought you said you had no money."
He grinned, amber eyes smoky with mischief. "There're other things I could give you for your birthday."
"Don't be crude, Watari."
The blonde crossed to the other side of the desk and draped himself across his companion, twining an arm around his neck.
"You know, if you'd never been born today, you would've never died. And then I might not have ever met you," he said thoughtfully.
Tatsumi shook his head. "I suppose not. And if you hadn't gone and lost that bet to the Earl, I wouldn't have had to come bail you out."
"But then you wouldn't have kissed me. And then…" he rested his head on Tatsumi's shoulder. "You would've never admitted that you loved me."
Tatsumi blushed. "I only said that so that transparent pervert would leave you alone."
"Funny how you can say that and still be blushing so heavily, Seii."
"What did I tell you about calling me that?"
Watari waved a hand. "Right, right, goldfish. So was this a good birthday?"
"That stands to be questioned. It depends on what happens the rest of the day."
Tatsumi glanced over at his partner, who smiled and kissed him gently. "You'll just have to wait and see, now won't you?"
"You've got frosting on your glasses."
"Do you think I care? As long as it isn't chemically unstable, it can stay where it is."
The secretary yawned. "Your girls are going to be mad they missed the cake."
"Birds and chocolate don't mix."
"What about Tsuzuki?"
Watari shrugged. "He can come and get some when he comes in here to pester you later, because you know he will."
"Shouldn't you be getting back to work?"
Watari said nothing, either genuinely asleep or playing possum to avoid answering the question. Tatsumi sighed heavily. He was feeling drowsy himself, and allowed his eyes to close.
The door swung open, Tsuzuki and Hisoka standing there, the former with a file folder in his hand.
"Tatsumi! What's this about another budget cut? I haven't spent any company money on desserts in a month!" he cried, waving the folder.
Hisoka snorted. "Right, because you've been too busy spending my money."
"Tatsu…oh…um, Hisoka…let's head back to the office, okay?"
The empath glared at him. "What are you babbling about, idiot?"
He pointed to the scattered papers littering the floor, the partially eaten cake, and the two Shinigami sprawled in Tatsumi's sturdy leather desk chair.
"Stop staring, Tsuzuki, it isn't polite."
The violet-eyed man high tailed it out; eager to go tell everyone and their cousin about the compromising position their illustrious secretary had been found in. Hisoka glanced back over his shoulder as he went to close the door.
"Happy birthday, Tatsumi," he muttered.
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Chocolate frosted cake for everybody! See you again later…and don't wake Tatsumi up on the way out, he's been working too hard these days.