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Hot days were always the best days to wash the cart as it dried quickly afterwards, but damn did Chibita hate them. He was currently stood in God knows what temperature wearing the thinnest shirt he could find, coupled with a pair of these newfangled things called “jorts” Karamatsu had happily told him about last week. He hated to admit that they looked good on him. Karamatsu hadn’t quite been able to add the “Karamatsu flare” he was so eager to, nearly blinding Chibita with the amount of glitter he attempted to throw over his head, but they still looked perfect to Chibita. They were a constant reminder of him, which was probably the real reason they made him smile so much. He felt Karamatsu’s confidence oozing as he wore them. Although, now that he mentioned it, that might just be the glue melting. He had to use something to cover up the holes and had made cute oden shaped patches (yes, they had his face on) to do the job. Looking back on it, thread might have been the better option.
“I have returned home, my love!” Chibita’s face lit up at the sound of his voice. By now he was used to it, though once upon a time it had annoyed him. The tickling in his chest had become part of his daily routine, much like taking out the garbage and cooking. Karamatsu changed, it was only natural for Chibita to as well.
“Hey, you’re finally back! Help me out, will ya?” Like clockwork, Karamatsu was already by his side picking up the extra sponge set out ready. Before starting, he planted a slight peck on his lips. Chibita could taste fireworks.
It was weird, Karamatsu having a job. He started working at a local music shop about half a year ago, instantly falling in love with it. Fortunately today had been a short shift so he was still chipper. Chibita, on the other hand, was enjoying a day off. He’d been having a lot more of them recently.
“So I’ve been thinking.”
“Worrying game that is for you, Karaboy”
“Ha, very funny,” Karamatsu retorts, flicking a drop of water at his boyfriend. Chibita returns the favour a little too courageously, soaking his shirt. He laughs and carries on, “have you ever considered a Karamatsu makeover for your business?”
The smile fades.
“The hell?” Chibita replies, raising an eyebrow instinctively. Karamatsu's ideas always concerned him, especially when they involved himself.
”Not for you my love, you need not change! I simply wish to catch the attention of commoners, make them see what I do, thinking “wow, this cart! The owner! He is stunning! He is wonderful! I must taste his food!”
“Surely you’re the only one I want to feel that way about me, idjit.” He sighs, a smile returning to his face. A compliment is still a compliment, after all.
“I don’t mean romantically, mon cher, I meant metaphorically, I mean-“
“I’ve told you before, my cart is fine the way it is.”
“But Chibitaaaaaaa,” Karamatsu sulks, flailing his hands over the cart like a child. Mature as usual.
“Remember what happened last time?” Karamatsu looks up sheepishly. He does. He remembers the horse drawn carriage. He remembers Chibita’s life draining from his eyes, nearly sending him to hell for the second time that year.
“But this is different! I have new ideas, better ones, galaxy dominating ones.”
“You know this is my thing.”
“Surely, now we’re together, you wish it to be... our thing.” He dramatically poses for a second time. Less somber now, thankfully, but equally as irritating to anyone other than Chibita. He, on the other hand, blushes before composing himself.
“We’ve only been together a few months, quit rushing shit” He says under his breath, covering the endearing giggles he knows Karamatsu would rather be hearing.
“A ha, but your heart has craved my love for no shorter than two years! Surely that’s dedication, and trust, enough” There they are, the eyes. The eyes that stare into your soul, melting the hearts of everyone (quite literally. The pain is that bad). Of course, once more, for Chibita this is different. The tickling gets more intense, blush turning a deeper red, now painting his scalp and ears.
“‘Aving a crush on someone isn’t the same as making a relationship work, damnit,” His voice had now reduced to a whisper, silently telling himself off for being so soft for the idiot standing before him.
“You still loooove me,” Karamatsu's pose weakens as he says this, becoming more of a slight lean against one of the cart’s wooden bars. He pouts his lips for extra sympathy. Damn it, Chibita does love him. He's won.
“What ideas did you have?” Chibita surrenders, taking a seat on the stall he would usually be standing on. He crosses his arms with a curious look on his face, the part of him that was still rational wishing that fear could erase love.
Karamatsu runs into the house. The fear deepens. Has he been planning this for awhile? He knew Karamatsu was over the top but this seemed a little much.
He can still run away, right?
Nope.
Karamatsu reappears, carrying a huge box. He’d also, somehow, found the time to change into his signature shirt and a pair of jorts he’d made the same day as Chibita’s. That made them special, he said, because it was another sign that they belonged together. Sure, Chibita didn’t know why any of that crap mattered, but the sentiment was nice regardless.
Nervously he peered inside the box, seeing all the things he was dreading. There was a lot of blue, which no longer bothered him, the part that did was the abundance of glittery paint adorning it. Where was this guy getting this much of the stuff from? Chibita found an empty bottle to throw out every week, is this where half of his wages were going? Did he even use it to buy lunch like he claimed to?
Chibita made a mental note to buy a new bento box for him.
“What is the matter, my dear?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Karamatsu, this isn’t us. This is you.”
“But, my love. Wait and see! It’s what’s inside that counts!”
Chibita got up off the stall to carry on cleaning. This time Karamatsu doesn’t pose, he just stands there, wondering what he’s done wrong.
“What did I-?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing, ‘kay?”
Chibita was getting visibly angry. Recently he’d been getting so much better at controlling his temper, but all that repression had to amount to something eventually, he guessed. This was it. The thought of all that hard work crumbling almost made Chibita cry. One outburst and this could all be over.
However, Karamatsu reads all the signs and understands. Equally, he knows not to torment him any further. Most of the time he can win Chibita over with a few flowery words, though this was different. They’d known each other intimately enough by now to know their limits, the charade had to end. He gently put his hand on Chibita’s shoulders, who sighs in response.
“That paint isn't going anywhere near my cart, end of,” he says, voice now calmer. An improvement on before, however still with a touch of hostility to get the point across.
“Huh?” Karamatsu gives him a confused look, almost looking insulted for him to have even considered the idea. "Who said anything about painting your cart?"
Chibita’s blood cools. He’s so shocked he almost forgets he was angry. Almost.
“You chose Red for a reason, did you not? It’s supposed to match the colour of that valiant hero’s motorcycle, right? The one who kills all those zombies?”
“That’s not the plot of Akira, Karamatsu,” Chibita laughs, anger definitely now a thing of the past. He mentally cursed himself when he felt it becoming a giggle. Remembering his favourite movie made up for the box. “Were you even paying attention when we watched it? Or let me guess, you?”
“I go-"
“Lost in the my eyes?”
“Nope.”
“Blinded by my glistening scalp?”
“Closer.”
“Ugh, do I need to say it?"
"You do now."
"My... beauty?”
“Was telling the truth so hard?”
“Naaaa, but you’ve used that one before.”
“I admit, I need some new material.”
A grin spreads across Chibita’s face and he swings the sponge in Karamatsu’s direction, soaking his outfit for the second time that day. He laughed too, the same sadistic one that used to fill the air when they were children. The face on Karamatsu's shirt began to frown.
“I'll help you clean up your act.”
“Oh really?”
Karamatsu sees through his disguise, as he always does now, and pins him to the cart. Chibita couldn’t even gasp before their lips were touching. They made sure the kiss was brief because of... reasons (Karamatsu’s jorts did not leave much to the imagination), but it was nice while it lasted.
“So, your amazing or whatever idea?” Chibita’s voice was now softer than usual, still recovering from the kiss and probably also choking a little on Karamatsu’s strong cologne. It was a smell he was used to, yet still violent on the head as ever, he must have reapplied the fragrance when he changed clothes.
“Well,” Karamatsu lets go reluctantly, not before cupping his ass through the bottom of his jorts (oh, Chibita thought, that explains why he wanted to make them so much), and goes to the box happily. He digs through the glitter and blue, covering himself as he did so, and emerges with a small, sausage shaped piece of fabric.
“What you want me to do, chloroform myself some customers?” Chibita jokes, Karamatsu responding by shaking his head with an embarrassed smile on his face.
He stands next to Chibita at the cart and slowly unwraps something. It’s small, delicate, and glistens in the sunlight.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” Karamatsu says, popping the little trinkets in a pot alongside the hibiscus flowers on the counter. Chibita takes a look over, finally working out what they are: Two little roses. One blue, the other orange, both glittery; the true purpose of the paint.
Chibita cups the blue flower between his fingers, giving it a stroke. It returns the favour by covering him with a slight dusting of sparkle.
“Edible, just in case,” Karamatsu proudly announces, “I remembered what you said last time I tried to add glitter into the oden.”
“Yeah... had to throw away a week’s worth of stock,” Chibita laughs, admittedly not too happy remembering that part of their relationship. He did try though, he had to appreciate that. “This makeover is a little subtle for you, Karaboy. I’m kinda floored.”
“Unlike me, I know, but look at how much they change the space. They’re a symbol of our undying love, and sure to grab the attention of everyone in the land!”
“How? They're too small to be seen from far away.”
“It's not about others seeing them, they're for your eyes only. What I'm talking about is the ambiance." Karamatsu pauses for a second, always getting nervous when things came from the more genuine side of his heart.
"When you’re working, I want you- I want you to know you're not alone. And then..." He stops again to mark the transition back to his usual comically exaggerated self.
"Your smile will bring people to your cart because they’ll be so dazzled by it! It’s a makeover of attitude instead of aesthetic! Imagine how many people will be lining up to see your Karamatsu shine.”
“Only you?” Chibita snorts, but Karamatsu simply grunts in response.
“Everyone! And how can they not? You’re smiling right now, people are probably already plotting my demise.” He’s not wrong. Chibita was wearing the biggest grin on his face, warm and genuine, just like Karamatsu’s flowers. Taking no time to think of a response, he ducks behind the counter and starts digging in the cupboard, causing a ruckus. He was a very impulsive man, after all.
“Ho, what’s the matter dear? The world is dimmer now without your light.”
He doesn’t respond
“Chibi-“ before he can finish, Chibita reappears and shoves something into his hands.
“I saw you getting into all this sewing stuff an’ wanted to try something new myself, so I tried making this. It ain't very good though, so I was gonna buy you one from the store”
“Oh, Chibita,” In his hands was an orange bento box, adorned with a little oden emblem. It's badly drawn and assembled a little wonkily, only adding to it's personality. Karamatsu's chest began to tickle in sync with Chibita's. “It’s the most perfect of fashion”
“Really?”
“Of course! I’ll take it to work with me everyday!” Karamatsu replies, holding the box to his chest and giving it a kiss. Impulse blossomed inside Chibita again, who was now concocting a fiendish idea. Knowing this isn’t what Karamatsu intended, but loving the allure of profit all the same, he grips his partner's hand with a smile.
“Then you can show those 7/11 fuckers what real oden is!“
“Genius! A makeover of marketing strategy too! I love it.” Adopting the same grin, Karamatsu interjects, “You might want to avoid calling your customers fuckers, however.”
“Yeah, you're probably right.” Chibita replies, looking at him with a serious, yet fond, facial expression. Within seconds they’re in fits of laughter. They resume cleaning the cart, but Chibita has something else on his mind.
“So, why the box?”
“That old thing? Nothing,” Karamatsu edges himself closer. He winks as he does so, popping the bento in his jorts pocket (how did it even fit in there) for safe keeping. “To be a Karamatsu boy is to be constantly bewildered by my mind”
“Hardly worth it if you’d have fallen on your faces,” Chibita says in an snarky but fond tone, hardly processing his own body moving closer to meet Karamatsu’s. “Why all this effort for little ol’ me?”
“Oh you know why,” He cups Chibita’s face between his free hand and kisses him more passionately this time. Both men were hungry for something other than oden, it seemed.
“The futon is calling us, surely we are done for now.”
“Yeah, I guess! Ready for tomorrow’s rush after everyone sees your lunch. How am I ever going to pay you back?” With a grin Karamatsu brought his face closer once more to nuzzle his neck, telling him directly through the skin what he desires, as if he doesn’t already know. Chibita, now feeling the previous warmth he was repressing during the kiss overcome him, was all too happy to accept. The two lock up the cart and make their way inside.
Before closing the door to his apartment, Chibita took one last look outside. He hadn’t even realised the sun was setting. The sky was a watercolour splash of orange and blue, mimicking the flowers. He smiled to himself, knowing for a fact now those colours belonged together, no makeover needed.
“Your carriage awaits,” Karamatsu breaks Chibita from his trance, lowering the box for him to step into while holding back yet another bout of laughter. Chibita just rolls his eyes.
“Too soon, Karaboy, too soon.”