Disclaimer: I do NOT own PoT
Pairing: Atobe Keigo X Echizen Ryoma
Note: Hello! I am back after approximately 17000 years. Here, have some fluff! (Unbetaed)
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Chapter 6
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They made their way to the shopping district - specifically, towards Ryoma's favorite burger joint. Man, he's hungry. Not even the Monkey King's am-I-really-doing-this face can dim his appetite. On the contrary, it actually made him look forward to it more. The faces the Monkey King will surely make when he watch Ryoma devour burger after burger should be most entertaining. Ryoma was already planning to exaggerate his gusto - moaning around a bite and licking his lips and all that. He couldn't wait to see the reaction that will ensue.
Ryoma walked a little faster, a rare subtle bounce appearing on his step as he glanced up at the older boy and grinned at him. He received a resigned smile in return and Ryoma couldn't help but laugh.
"What's with that face, Monkey King? They're really good - the burgers. You have to give them a try."
Atobe vehemently shook his head no, not even waiting for the sentence to finish.
"Why not?" Ryoma asked, mock pouting but feeling positively gleeful. He tried controlling his expression, wanting to look more serious and convincing. He pitched his voice lower, speaking slowly, a little bit breathlessly. "Just imagine: delicious beef patty, a thick slice of melted cheese in between soft buns..."
The older boy looked doubtful at his description and amused at his voice. Undeterred, Ryoma continued.
"Imagine holding it in your hand, still feeling it's warmth. You can smell the fragrant scent of the sesame seeds with just one whiff." Ryoma made to inhale deeply, just as a raging motorcycle passed by them, leaving behind a thick, black fume and although Ryoma tried to hold his breath, it was already too late. His eyes immediately watered and he coughed, trying to clear the smoke that was closing up his throat. He heard chuckles beside him and he tried to glare balefully but it wasn't nearly as effective. He could feel the tears gathering on his lower lashes. The older boy immediately rubbed his back (as if that would help) and asked, "You okay, brat?" looking a bit guilty but still terribly amused.
Ryoma sniffed. "'m fine."
Atobe's hands moved to Ryoma's face, his palms warm on his cheeks, thumbs gently wiping at the tears Ryoma didn't know he shed. Ryoma blinked up at him. The older boy looked properly guilty now. Ryoma sniffed. And continued.
"So, imagine that first bite."
Atobe gaped at him, eyebrows raising high in disbelief.
Ryoma grinned. He resumed his earlier voice - low and slow and breathless. It was a little harder to do now. His throat feels a bit painful and his words are coming out rough, but he persevered nonetheless. It's for the added effect, Ryoma told himself.
"The way it tastes - sweet and meaty and juicy; the flavors just exploding in your mouth."
Atobe looked torn between laughing and shaking his head in concern.
"And all that melted cheese, dripping on your fingers, making everything creamy and gooey..." Ryoma closed his eyes and moaned, imagining the taste in his mouth. He missed the sudden blush and the small, awkward cough the other makes. When he opened his eyes, the older boy was now looking clearly uncomfortable. Ryoma smirked. He wasn't finished yet.
The other moved to step away but Ryoma quickly held unto his wrists, keeping the other's hands on his face. As if he would let him get away. "And after you have that first taste, you watch as the juices run down your fingers and you just have to lick them clean because it's sooo good - "
The Monkey King looks bright red in the face and he was looking everywhere but at Ryoma. He looks a little bit pained and embarrassed and uncomfortable and while that was amusing, it was also confusing to Ryoma because that is not the expression he was aiming for. Ryoma blinked. He quickly backtracked - fairly sure that they were only talking about burgers - but then he realized the words he used and the expressions he must have made...
Ryoma, blushing beet red, pushed away the other's hands. "T-t-t-t-that's not what I meant! Y-y-you. . . HENTAI!"
Said baka hentai was momentarily surprised at the outburst. Ryoma glared at him even as he feels the heat of the blush rising up to cover his face. He must be fire hydrant red! Stupid, stupid, hentai! Stupid Monkey King!
Then the older boy laugh, the sound loud and clear and delighted as he looked down at Ryoma with something akin to fondness in his expression.
Ryoma found it hard to maintain his glare. The situation seemed so ridiculous now. He's still blushing, but he can feel the beginning of a reluctant smile curling up the corners of his lips.
...
The rest of the walk was uneventful. They were quiet but comfortable, occasionally glancing and snickering at each other. Ryoma has a thought that he's never smiled so much with another person before but that thought was vague and forgettable. He was just content to walk with the Monkey King as they headed to the burger joint.
When they finally got there, Ryoma made a beeline to the end of the shortest line at the counter. There were 5 people in front of him so they have time to look at the menu. Glancing back, he saw Atobe lingering in the doorway, looking very much like he's considering bolting out the door and leaving Ryoma there.
Huh. Ryoma thought. No chance of that.
He walked back to the older boy to drag him by the hand to the back of the line.
"Alright, Monkey King, choose your poison," he invites with a grand sweep of the overhead menu.
Atobe glowered at him, not at all amused by his choice of word. Ryoma shrugged, unrepentant.
Heaving a resigned sigh, Atobe begun to peruse the display of what the joint has to offer. What he sees are 6 different kinds of burgers, each boasting varying stacks of patties (one has as many as 5 patties) drenched in unseemly flavors of sauce and all has nearly the same abysmal amount of greens and tomatoes. That is, one wilted leaf of lettuce and one thin slice of tomato. They're all glistening with grease and dripping with melted processed cheese. They sure didn't look half as good as Ryoma made them out to be, though Atobe supposed they would look appetizing to the commoners good people below him on the social ladder. To him though... Atobe couldn't help but grimace, barely stopping himself from making an outright disgusted sound only those who have refined taste and have therefore sampled and enjoyed some of the most luxurious cuisines fine dining has to offer can.
Atobe didn't want to be a snub, he really didn't. But these food Ryoma is practically forcing him to eat (with his manipulative wide golden eyes and evil delightful laughter) is honestly making him queasy. He glanced down at Ryoma and found the younger boy watching him gleefully, the brat. Atobe is resigned.
"Alright, alright, I'll have one. ONE," he repeats firmly and with a raised index finger for emphasis. "One burger and one salad. That's it."
Ryoma, surprisingly, looks pleasantly surprised at Atobe's easy acquiescence, looking like he was expecting more fight and looking maybe even prepared to accept it if Atobe insisted on refusing to eat.
Huh.
Wait. Does that mean Atobe could have gotten away with not eating those blasted burgers if only he had stood firm against Ryoma's charm? Dammit! He couldn't believe he had agreed so easily. You're getting soft, Keigo, he berates himself.
But it was too late. Ryoma was already beaming at him.
Thankfully, Ryoma ordered him the least offensive burger on the menu: a simple cheeseburger with a single patty and extra lettuce and tomatoes. Atobe reached over and squeezed Ryoma's hand in sincere gratitude. The brat wasn't all that cruel after all.
Ryoma snickered at him but Atobe ignored him in favor of asking the girl behind the counter if they have green salad available. He didn't see any on the menu but he was hoping this establishment would cater to patrons if they have special orders. The girl hesitates, unsure if she can accommodate him and so Atobe, a little desperate, leans his elbow on the counter to give her the full force of his attention. He smiles winningly and said some line about keeping his diet to maintain his body shape. Atobe may have also flexed his biceps and the girl may have stared at the general vicinity of his chest looking dazed and appreciative. Ryoma made a gagging noise behind him which jolted the girl into flustered action. She stuttered an affirmative to Atobe's order, smiling coyly and blushing prettily. Atobe smiled back politely before turning to Ryoma, honestly just glad to have something relatively healthy to eat with all the grease he'll be forcing in his poor body.
Ryoma rolled his eyes at him, muttering "You're unbelievable" under his breath as he steps up to the counter beside Atobe, watching attentively as the girl competently prepared their food.
They're shoulder to shoulder now, their arms pressed together before Atobe casually raised his own to put around Ryoma's back. In the corner of his eye, he can see Ryoma giving him a look but he ignored it.
When they finally have their food ready and paid for (5 burgers (4 for Ryoma, the adorable pig that he is, and 1 for Atobe), a large fries (more grease, Atobe thinks in despair), 2 sodas (which Atobe will not drink and so he asked for a glass of water), and his especially ordered salad), Atobe took the tray before Ryoma can. When he was given another look, he just rolled his eyes and ushered the brat to find them a seat. They found themselves facing each other on a window booth.
There was a moment before the atmosphere became silent and serious between them - both contemplative and anticipatory as they watch each other. Ryoma raised a challenging eyebrow, staring Atobe down while the other is sending Ryoma a dead-eye glare, indignant at being forced to eat such horrific food but too prideful to back out of the challenge. Finally, after narrowing their eyes at each other until both are practically squinting it's become ridiculous, Atobe gingerly picked up one of the burgers, holding it firm between the tips of his fingers and thumb. The burger was still warm at least, its glossy covering greasy at the edges.
Slowly, Atobe peeled off the wrapper and they both watched as steam billows from the brown of the beef patty peeking between the bread. The steam carried with it the rich and oily flavors of fast food and Atobe, begrudgingly, can admit that the smell was a little mouth-watering. But just a very tiny bit. At the pit of his belly, he can feel the beginnings of hungry anticipation, aided by the way Ryoma unconsciously leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as he deeply inhales the aroma while staring fixedly at the food.
The younger boy, as Atobe has come to realize, is a special type of intense and passionate when it comes to hamburgers.
Bracing himself, Atobe takes a bite.
It wasn't a religious experience by any stretch of the imagination. The burger was good. Okay, very good. Everything Ryoma described the taste would be: soft burger buns, juicy meat, sesame seeds toasty on top of the bread, the cheese melty but still undeniably processed. Atobe hummed in appreciation and Ryoma, who was watching for his reaction attentively, shakes a victory fist at him, grinning widely.
"Told you it would be good."
Atobe only rolled his eyes in exasperation, watching as the other finally started eating his share.
….
It was a sight, Atobe thought not twenty minutes later, though he is still debating if it's a horrible or an impressive sight (horribly impressive? Impressively horrible?) – how Ryoma was able to stomach 4 burgers in one seating, stuffing his face and humming, with little sips of soda in between.
At one point, Ryoma catches him watching him with what Atobe assumed must have been a horrified fascination on his face. The brat narrowed his eyes at him, contemplating, before taking a decidedly dainty bite out of his burger. Which made Atobe extremely wary because his previous bites have been enormous and ungraceful. His suspicion was confirmed a moment later when Ryoma closed his eyes and let out an obscene moan that have no business coming out of a 12 years old mouth.
Flustered and panicking (both states of being so uncharacteristic of him, oh my god, what is this brat doing to him), Atobe glanced around and was thankful when it seemed that nobody had heard the sound, everyone busy having their own conversations. Turning back, Atobe glared at Ryoma who was snickering at him, obviously finding joy in his pain. Thoroughly irate, Atobe had no choice but to maturely kick him under the table. Ryoma, of course, because he is a brat through and through kicked him back. Queue a five minute long kicking session which did get them a few wary looks from the customers on their immediate vicinity.
It only ended when Atobe, tired and honestly questioning of his sanity (since when did he, Atobe Keigo, heir to his family's business conglomerate, a dignified gentleman with impeccable pedigree and tasteful disposition, was reduced to engaging in violent footsies with exasperating brats?), finally traps Ryoma's legs firmly between his own, raising an unimpressed brow when the brat tried to struggle and rolling his eyes when he gets a pout when he didn't let go.
….
That silly skirmish aside, Atobe and Ryoma were able to finish their food peaceably between them. They divided the salad though Atobe did have the larger amount. The salad was not gourmet, but the vegetables are fresh enough and the little lemon zest it has washes away the greasy taste out of his mouth. When Ryoma's soda was gone, Atobe offered him his own as he wasn't big on soft drinks. He contented himself with his water. The conversation trickles between them. A few words here and there, little banters that end with one of them (or both) smirking at the other.
(The whole time, Ryoma's legs remained trapped between Atobe's. They didn't say anything about it, they didn't acknowledge it though both are very much aware of it. They couldn't forget or ignore it as every subtle shifts and unconscious movements of their legs and feet reminded them how entangled they are below the table.)
Soon enough, they finished their respective food and drinks. In mutual agreement, both rose from their seat. Feeling tingles on their legs and actively not thinking about why, they leave soon after, the smell of grease clinging to their clothes but their stomachs are full and their spirits lifted.
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"Wow. Wow." This is all Gakuto can say after everything he has witnessed. (What even did he witness?!) He's dazed and confused and he's pretty sure there was a song somewhere with that exact lyrics but he couldn't get himself to remember. His brain is already operating at maximum capacity as it is just trying to understand the last 3 hours of his life.
Atobe Keigo. Captain of the prestigious Hyotei Academy's Tennis club. Stoic. Poised. Arrogant. Rich. Proud. Eating a… burger? A GREASY burger? With Seigaku's brat? Playing footsie with him? Acting flustered and blushing?!
Yeah, it'll definitely take time for Gakuto to absorb all that. Perhaps all of these will make more sense tomorrow? He highly doubts it but he's suddenly exhausted. He wanted to go home and sleep.
Turning to Oishitari, he found his doubles partner sipping slowly at his tea (of where it came from, Gakuto has no idea. They were at a burger joint? Since when did fast food restaurant started selling hot, authentic tea (as it's the only kind Oishitari drinks) and why wasn't Gakuto aware of it?)
Oishitari looked so peaceful and calm and wholly accepting of all these strange happenings that he's making Gakuto want to smack him upside the head.
Taking a deep breath, Gakuto tried to remember that of the two of them, Oishitari was the more level headed. He's also the one who is more sensible, and Gakuto has no doubt that if he asks very nicely, Oishitari will be happy to bring enlightenment to the chaos that is currently his mind.
However, all that can wait until tomorrow. Gakuto is so ready to end this day. He massages his temples, all his energy and mischief from earlier are gone, leaving behind heavy eyelids and aching head.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Gakuto settles in his seat. Damn, but he did not expect this day to end like this.
He picks at the remnants of his fries and waits for Oishitari to finish his tea so they can go home.
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Gakuto was right about Oishitari on all account. He's triple C: Calm, cool, and collected. He's level headed and sensible. Thus, he was able to compartmentalize well and he realized that whatever is going on with Atobe and the Seigaku brat was much too intriguing to absorb and understand as it comes. No, there was so much going on and the analyst in Oishitari was loath to draw conclusion when he knows that not all facts are presented. He can wait though. He can investigate much later on his own pace. For now, he can just observe.
And observe he did. And while he's at it, he also took the generously given opportunity to collect some… blackmail visual materials. So much materials that he can use to bargain with his captain at a later date. Heh.
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Contrary to whatever Momo was thinking, Kikumaru was actually a very observant person. But even if he's not, it was hard to miss the way the two people they were stalking following slinked their way to the burger joint, looking around and ducking down and sitting themselves in the very corner where they can't be seen but they can observe –
Lo and behold! Kikumaru thought, if those aren't…wait –
Atobe and Ochibi?!
Momo squawk behind him when Kikumaru suddenly stopped walking, grumbling under his breath but halting mid-complaint when he too spots who Kikumaru was looking at.
There was a pause and then,
"Huh," Momo said.
Another pause.
"Wait... What."
Well, that's what Kikumaru would like to know!