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"Oi, Haru. Your boyfriend's here."
Haru tenses, his slim fingers tightening around the piping bag he's been using. A dollop of cream squirts out of the end, and - thankfully - lands on the counter. Ignoring the cream, Haru glances up and sees a tall figure entering the restaurant. Looking very handsome in his police uniform, Sousuke notices Haru looking and sends him a small wink.
A tiny blush creeps its way across Haru's cheeks. He quickly averts his eyes and gazes down at the strawberry shortcake he was working on.
"He's not my boyfriend," he mutters to his co-worker, an older man by the name of Goro.
Goro, having just watched the small exchange between the two, snorts loudly. "Yeah... and I'm an Olympic gold medallist."
Haru sends Goro a deadly look, sending the older man retreating with his hands raised in surrender. Once Goro is out of sight, Haru sneaks another glance at Sousuke. He stands by the door, waiting patiently with one hand on his hip and the other holding a plastic bag.
Knowing Sousuke will wait until he's done; Haru returns to the cake in front of him. When the last bit of cream is squeezed on top, he grabs it from underneath and gently slides it into the display, ready to be bought by someone. He cleans down the bench where he'd been working, feeling Sousuke's gaze the entire time. Pulling off his chef's hat, he avoids looking at Sousuke and heads to the employee room. He places his hat with his things and then heads to the kitchen.
"I'm taking my break," Haru informs Goro. He grabs both his and Sousuke's lunch from the warmer, which he made earlier in the day.
Goro, who is currently in the middle of slicing up what appears to be a piece of fish, looks up and grins. "Sure thing, Haru! Have fun with your boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend," Haru repeats the second time that day. Before Goro can say anymore, Haru disappears with the food. He holds the plates delicately in his hands and walks back out to the front room. Sousuke is still standing by the door, exactly where Haru left him.
"Nanase," Sousuke greets once Haru approaches him.
"Yamazaki," Haru simply replies.
"You took your sweet time. I could have been called away with a job or something, while you finishing that cake."
"But you weren't," Haru points out.
"I could have been, though."
"Then you would have had to wait until dinner to get my food."
The corner of Sousuke's left eye twitches and he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. This happened a lot. "Let's just go eat, yeah?"
He steps forward and opens the door, only to have Haru push ahead and walk out first.
After you, he thinks sarcastically, before following.
The two make their way to their usual spot, a small round table on the corner of the restaurant. Haru takes his usual seat, setting the plates down. Sousuke takes his spot opposite of Haru and places the plastic bag onto the table as well.
"I brought the drinks." He rifles through the bag, before pulling out a bottle of water for Haru and a coke for himself. He hands the water over to Haru, who accepts with a small 'thanks'.
Haru sets his water down and pushes a plate full of deep-fried pork cutlets and rice towards Sousuke. He grabs his own plate full of mackerel and rice and pulls it toward himself.
"I can't believe you can make all types of amazing food, yet continue to eat that crap on a daily basis," Sousuke says.
Haru throws a harsh glare in his direction. His expression speaks louder than anything he could say and Sousuke is quick to apologize, although he does with a giant smirk on his face.
They remain in silence as they eat. When they're finished, Haru sits back and listens to Sousuke talk about one of the jobs that he had this morning. Apparently some woman thought there was a burglar in her apartment, so Sousuke and his partner, Rin, went to investigate it. It turned out to be just the woman's cat. He then explains how he got stuck in the apartment as both the woman and Rin talked about said cat for a solid ten minutes.
"Speaking of Rin," Haru interrupts. He takes a sip of his water. "How is he?"
"He's doing okay, I guess. He can be a huge pain in the butt, though."
"Does he know where you go every day for lunch?"
"No. He's too busy focusing on his own love life much less mine."
Haru raises an eyebrow in a silent question.
Sousuke sighs. "He's been spending a lot of time down at the firehouse that's just down the street from the station. He's got the hots for one of the firemen down there. I think he's name is Tachibana? Or something like that."
"Does he have a chance?"
Finishing of his coke, Sousuke shrugs. "Who knows? He might have a chance. That's if he doesn't embarrass himself, which, knowing Rin, he most likely will."
Haru smiles softly and hums in agreement.
The conversation ends and they sit in a comfortable silence. That is, until they hear large bangs coming from inside the restaurant and they both jump in their seats.
Sousuke is the first to get up, his police instincts kicking in. Haru watches as Sousuke jumps from his seat and is about to head to the restaurant when Goro bursts through the front door and looks around wildly.
"Ah, Haru!" he shouts, when his eyes land on him. "Sorry to interrupt your da-break, but, I could really use your help back in here."
Before Haru can say anything, Goro is back inside, leaving Haru and Sousuke staring after him in bewilderment.
"Guess you have to go," Sousuke states, looking down at him.
Sighing, Haru stands from his seat. "I guess," he utters. He grabs the plates and stacks them together. He carries them as they walk to the front door together. When he reaches the front door, he turns to Sousuke and they stare at one another.
"I'll see you later then," Sousuke says.
"Hm."
Sousuke leans down and presses his lips gently against Haru's. A small shiver runs up and down Haru's spine and he steps forward, pressing their lips harder. The kiss lasts a few more seconds before Sousuke breaks it.
"Thanks for the meal, Nanase," he says, kissing Haru one last time before turning around and walking off.
Haru watches him walk off, a soft smile on his face, the kiss still lingering on his lips.