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Prompt: (at least) four of the boys sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant for some reason
“Of course that fuckhead’s late to the dinner he invited us to,” Joe grumbled into his wine glass, flashing an insincere smile at the server as he took a sip.
“Nice to see you’re in a good mood,” Cherry said, taking a sip of his own before looking at his glass in pleasant surprise. “Oh. This isn’t bad.”
Joe scoffed. “Not great either.”
“Oh you are in a mood,” Cherry said, sounding amused.
“Is something…wrong?” Reki asked, confused. “Is the wine bad or something?”
“Or maybe Joe’s just grouchy because he’s hungry?” Langa suggested.
“It’s fine,” Cherry assured them. “Kojiro is just kind of an insufferable prick when it comes to places like this.”
Reki choked on his water at the ease with which Cherry just threw insufferable prick into conversation. And the fact he was talking about Joe, who was totally one of the nicest people on the planet.
“C’mon,” Joe said, picking up bread from the basket in the center of the table and shaking it limply in Cherry’s direction. “All I’m saying is, where do they get off being all pretentious and claiming this is fresh-baked artisan bullshit when they got it out of a box in the freezer.”
Cherry looked back at Reki and Langa with a raised eyebrow and resigned sigh. “See what I mean?”
“I think it tastes okay,” Langa offered, proving his point by taking a large bite.
“That almost makes it worse,” Joe muttered. “I’m just saying. If you’re going to act like your shit doesn’t stink, just back it up. Quit serving me freezer bread from Sysco and pretending you make it in house every morning.”
“Wow,” Reki said, genuinely surprised. “I had no idea he could be like this.”
Cherry shrugged. “I kept telling you guys he’s not perfect but you wouldn’t believe me.”
“I’m still perfect,” Joe pouted, eliciting a snort from Cherry. “I don’t get why you don’t think it’s a big deal.”
“Because so far it’s passable, you don’t have to work to make it, and it’s paid for?” Cherry replied, ticking the points off on his fingers. “And we get to congratulate the boys on their graduation from high school?”
“Sorry we’re late,” Adam said smoothly, interrupting any moody retort Joe might’ve made. “Langa-kun, you look divine. Cherry, lovely as always. Reki…you’re here. And Joe, I see you have a shirt on that mostly fits and almost buttons.” With a toothy grin, he appraised them, arms wide. “Fabulous!”
Wordlessly, Tadashi just bowed to the table, tucking in Adam’s chair as he sat next to Langa then took a seat himself.
“So, Langa-kun,” Adam said, unfolding the napkin and draping it across his lap. “Are you enjoying the meal so far?”
Langa nodded eagerly. “But Joe doesn’t like it.”
“Oh?” Adam asked, the single syllable dripping with interest as he looked at Joe. Then he turned back to Langa. “I’m sorry—was I supposed to care?”
“Hey, asshole—”
“Kojiro,” Cherry warned. “I know the premade freezer…whatevers insults your restaurant sensibilities, but please. If it makes you feel better I’ll let you cook me something after we’re done.”
Joe scowled thoughtfully. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better how?”
Cherry just smiled mischievously and took another sip of his wine. “So, boys,” he deflected. “High school is over. What are your plans now? Coll…ege?” Cherry asked with a slight grimace, remembering Langa’s abhorrent penmanship.
“Trade school for me,” Reki supplied.
“Smart choice,” Joe offered, the least-pessimistic thing he’d said since sitting down for dinner.
“Did you go to culinary school, Joe?” Langa asked.
Joe shook his head. “Nah. Not a booksmarts type of guy—”
“Imagine that,” Cherry mumbled into his wine.
Joe ignored him. “—so I apprenticed with a chef I really admired for a couple years. Got great hands on experience, was up to my elbows in real-world restaurant stuff from the get-go.”
“How about you, Cherry?” Reki asked. “I bet you went to some amazing college, huh?”
“I didn’t, actually,” Cherry said slowly. “I’d rather make money than spend it—”
“Unless it’s someone else’s,” Joe muttered with a raised eyebrow.
“—so I went into calligraphy almost immediately. Then worked on Carla in my spare time. Or maybe I worked on Carla and did calligraphy in my spare time.” Cherry smiled, more sly than happy. “Either way.”
“Wow,” Langa said, sharing a look with Reki before turning to Adam. “Adam?”
“I went to university in America,” Adam answered, his tone very sterile. Guarded.
“Wow!” Reki’s face lit up, oblivious. “Cool!”
“Yeah. Cool,” Adam echoed, sounding like it was anything but.
“Where at?” Langa asked.
“California,” Adam said, clipped and lacking his usual affection for any conversation with Langa. “I have a distant relative there.”
Langa frowned. “Is it worth going there for a distant relative?”
Adam smiled mirthlessly. “Well, distant relatives become close cousins when you need a favor. Like sloughing off your son halfway across the world so you don’t have to deal with the inconvenience of looking at him or pretending to care.” Just then servers returned, setting down entrees. “Oh, lobster ravioli! Looks absolutely delicious. What did you order, Langa-kun? Are you going to give me a bite?”
Joe glared at the plate set in front of him and blew an irritated sigh out his nose.
“Don’t,” Cherry warned in a whisper.
“It’s out of a freezer, pre-made! House-made pasta my ass,” Joe hissed right back. “They’re not fooling anyone.”
“They’re fooling a lot of people and that’s why you’re mad,” Cherry replied effortlessly. “Don’t be jealous just because they get away with mediocrity and are rewarded with praise and acclaim for it while you work your ass off.”
“Uh, number one: I’m not jealous! And number two, shouldn’t I actually be jealous about thaa—” Joe’s eyes widened briefly, then he tried to get his expression under control and totally not give away the fact that Cherry’s hand was squeezing his thigh under the table. “What are you doing?” he mouthed.
“Hmm?” Cherry asked, looking pretty damn unflappable considering he was swirling his fingers high on the inside of Joe’s thigh, rapidly approaching dangerous territory.
“Is it that bad, Joe?” Reki asked, concerned.
“Huh?” Joe nearly yelped. “No, I’m, uh, fine. I’m fine. How’s your shitty pa—aaa—” Cherry palmed his crotch. “Pasta?” Joe squeaked out. Everyone at the table (except for Cherry) stared at him uncertainly. “Sorry, uh, cramp. In my foot.”
“Oh those suck,” Reki empathized with a nod. “I’ve had that happen while skateboarding and almost biffed it.”
“I thought that was just an excuse for bailing on your trick the other day,” Langa said, completely innocent. “You really meant that?”
“Of course I meant it!” Reki said, indignant for all of one second before they both laughed.
“Mm,” Adam hummed, looking at Joe and seeing right through his lie. “They are truly awful, aren’t they?”
B-e-G-o-o-d Cherry traced onto Joe’s thigh. Eyes narrowed because he was kinda mad but also found this kind of hot, Joe glanced at Cherry in time to catch him taking a bite of that god-forsaken freezer ravioli. He slid the fork from between his lips just slowly enough that Joe knew exactly what he was doing.
Then Cherry squeezed his crotch through his slacks.
Alright, okay. He’d been caught a little off guard—was still a little off guard, if he was being honest. But two could play this game. Maybe this cursed dinner wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Joe dabbed at his mouth with his napkin then set it back on his lap, sliding his hand over to give Cherry’s kimono-clad thigh a firm squeeze before using his fingertips to write
M-a-k-e-M-e