Chapter Text
"So damn frustrating." Kojiro slapped his dish towel down against the counter and scrubbed a little harder than he needed to. "I make him dinner and he won't even come and eat it. Like, 'oh it'll be cold'." Throwing the towel to the side, he brought the plate over to Miya, who was currently blowing bubbles with his gum and swinging his legs as he tapped away at his DS. "You want this?"
"I don't like tomatoes." Miya said without missing a beat, not even looking up. "Plus hearing a grown-up vent to a twelve year old is kind of making me lose my appetite."
Kojiro sputtered, setting the plate down and trying not to look as offended as he was. Instead of saying anything, Kojiro came around to the other side of the counter and took a seat next to the kid.
It was a little pathetic, Miya was right, but he couldn't help but be a strange mix of pissed off and worried when Kaoru locked himself away like this. He picked up his fork, stabbing aimlessly at the meal he'd prepared for his friend. "Whatever, that douche can eat a frickin' granola bar for dinner for all I care."
Next to him, Miya made a face of defeat and put his DS down with a huff, the pixelated screen flashing a bright red 'you died' in an intimidating font. "You really don't get it, do you?" He said, elbow on the counter and face resting on his fist.
Kojiro made a sound like a muffled 'huh' around a mouthful of pasta and looked over in confusion. "What do you mean?" Kojiro said with a still full mouth before he swallowed, bad manners he'd only use when alone and in an even worse mood.
"It's 'cause tonight at S, you asked that girl on a date." Miya picked up the glass of chocolate milk that Kojiro had fixed him and took a big gulp.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Kojiro furrowed his brows, taking his own sip of wine.
With a sigh, Miya brought his glass down and stared at the other like he was stupid, which was ironic considering the milk mustache he was sporting. "He has a crush on you, dude."
Kojiro hated to spit his wine back into his glass, backwashing a rather expensive pinot noir. "Did he say that?" Kojiro said with wide eyes, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"Of course not." Miya went back to his game. "If you make me some mac and cheese, I'll tell you and forgive you for being so dumb."
Letting out a grunt of disapproval, Kojiro took another bite of his food and sat up from his seat. "This is just like having Kaoru here." He rolled his eyes as he left for the kitchen.
"Guess I'm more like mommy!" Miya stuck out his tongue.
"Ugh, stop that." Kojiro waved a hand as he disappeared to go fix Miya's food.
He was gone for about fifteen minutes, Miya having returned to his game and making little sounds of anger when he lost over and over.
"Dammit! This level is so hard!" Miya kicked the underside of the counter just as Kojiro was coming out with his food.
Kojiro set the plate down in front of the other, leaning on the counter with a stern look. "Hey, watch the language. And the real estate." He pulled out a napkin and fork and set it next to the plate.
Still not looking up from his game, Miya cocked one eyebrow. "Sorry, daddy."
"Cut that crap out!" Kojiro stormed back around to his seat and sat down, refilling his wine and then picking up his own fork to eat his aggravatingly room temperature pasta.
After a moment of utensils clinking against plates, Kojiro sideyed Miya. "Okay, so what is it?" He finally said, rolling a tomato around on his plate idly.
"Cherry likes you. It's not rocket science." Miya said, shoving another bite of macaroni into his mouth and downing it with chocolate milk.
Kojiro groaned again, then placed his face in his hands before deciding he needed another sip of wine. Then he put his face in his hands again, before turning to Miya with a grimace. "I just don't get why you think that."
Eyebrows going high, Miya made a sound like a muffled laugh around his mouthful. After a moment of chewing and another sip of milk, Miya set his fork down and levelled Kojiro with a look far too harsh and demeaning for a regular twelve year old.
"I'm not kidding!" Kojiro stabbed the tomato and shoved it into his mouth emphatically.
"Oh boy." Miya took another bite of his macaroni, and for a moment Kojiro softened at the fact that the kid had nearly cleaned his plate, like he'd liked it.
Only for a moment, though. "Kaoru doesn't have a crush on me." He pointed his fork at the other, growing annoyed the way he would with Kaoru. "He's probably planning on getting married to that dumb AI thing."
"Carla's smarter than you." Miya shrugged, but took pity on the pout on Kojiro's face. "Geez, I can't believe you haven't figured it out."
Kojiro took a long drink of wine as Miya simultaneously downed the rest of his milk and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"The dude comes to your restaurant every night. He broke out of a hospital to see you. You guys can't keep your hands off each other when you fight, which is always, and he gets pissed at you when you flirt with girls." Miya explained in a tone of exasperation. "I mean, he acts like he doesn't want to see you, but you're always together, not to mention the way you guys look at each other when you think the other one isn't -"
"Stop!" Kojiro's face was red as he set his fork down. "I get it! But he's just my friend." Kojiro laid his cheek against his palm. "My best friend."
Miya looked Kojiro up and down, especially lingering on Kojiro's flushed face. "Honestly, just date already. It's driving the rest of us nuts. You clearly like him, too."
"The others think so, too?!" Kojiro was about to pour himself another glass of wine, until he remembered he had to take Miya home.
"Duh." Miya pushed his empty dishes away, and picked his DS back up.
Kojiro picked up the empty plates, sighing as he left for the kitchen. "You've got to be kidding me." He dumped them in the sink, rolling up his sleeves to begin scrubbing them clean.
As he did so, Kojiro could only wonder. Did he like Kaoru?
At that thought, a pair of sharp, golden eyes surrounded by long strands of pink hair flashed in his mind. More than that, memories from their past, all the touches and bickering, and how much it riled him up; at the end of the day, he'd never had more fun with a person. And if Kaoru liked him, too?
Kojiro found himself blushing again, tugging at his collar as his face grew hot.
Maybe he did like Kaoru.