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Joe grins as Cherry studies the pretty little cakes with barely concealed interest. He'd piped sakura blossoms across their surfaces, and because provoking his friend has become a favorite pastime, he explains, "thought I'd make something delicate, like you."
And yeah, he clearly has a death wish. Because Cherry's knuckles are still swollen from the last fight he got into, and he's suddenly crowding into Joe's space as he hisses "What did you just call m—" Joe picks up one of the desserts and pops it into Cherry's mouth before he can finish the sentence.
Three things happen in rapid succession.
Cherry's eyes flutter closed, and he makes a little contented hum in the back of his throat. His lip grazes the tip of Joe's finger as he swallows. And Joe's breath catches. He can feel the cool metal of Cherry's lip ring against his skin, can feel the soft huff of breath against his hand. He swallows hard.
Cherry blinks his eyes open and remembers he's supposed to be angry. "I suppose they're edible," he scoffs. He snatches up the little plate of desserts, scowling at them like they've personally offended him, and stalks from the room. He slams his shoulder into Joe's as he passes, for good measure.
Joe should probably follow him. He needs to photograph at least one of the cakes for his portfolio, and should probably also confirm that Cherry isn't currently burning some of his favorite belongings. But a single thought keeps him frozen in place.
There's sugar on the corner of Cherry's mouth, and Joe wants to taste it.