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We all agree that a change of scenery is beneficial. On Earth we won't have to worry about anyone seeing us together and getting the wrong idea. Or possibly, the right one.
Regardless, I'm looking forward to this date. I have had Earth "dates" with Ken before but never any I could actually call dates. It’s funny to think that I was free to hold his hand but not to flirt, and now it’s the other way around. I'll just hold Wolf's instead.
I can't wait to see that open amazement as Wolf takes in the crazy Japanese culture.
We each pick a date spot. Wolf, unsurprisingly, chooses the local art gallery, and Ken chooses the local history museum. I can’t say I’m too interested in either, but I’ll go for their sake. As for me, I’m caught between an amusement park and the arcade.
At the art gallery, Wolf flutters around each painting like a moth to a flame. His face is shining like a child in innocent wonder. He rambles on about the different art styles and color uses and stuff. I can’t make heads or tails of most of what he’s saying, but it’s adorable to see him this excited. I just smile encouragingly, but Ken, cultured as he is, is able to actually provide feedback on the techniques. Each time he does, I can see a glint in Wolf’s eyes, an appreciation for his conversational ability.
Since this is Wolf’s date, he gets to choose the food as well. We end up at a street vendor selling hot dogs. I doubt his refined pallet will appreciate the meat blob, but he insists on trying it since he’s heard it’s the trademark baseball food. He follows my lead and orders a traditional one with just mustard, while Ken goes all out with a chili cheese dog.
Wolf’s face scrunches up at the first bite. He’s gotten a bit of mustard on his lip.
“What do you think?”
“It’s…bland, yet I still want to eat more for some reason.”
Ken chuckles. “It’s the MSG.”
“MS what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. I wipe the mustard off his lip with my finger before popping it into my mouth.
“Yuuri!” he complains, looking around at the people on the street.
I take his hand and start walking us down the street. “Relax. No one knows us.”
“Still…”
In the past I would have cared as well, but I’m past that. I don’t care about holding back due to stupid judgments that can’t hurt me.
At the museum, it’s Ken rambling, although his is more structured. He seems to know enough history to be a museum tour guide. I lose count of how many times he points out a flaw in the information plaques posted around the displays.
“How many lives have you had on Earth?”
“I’m not sure. I stopped counting lives after the first 10. I’ve been on Earth for quite some time now, though. I had a life as a historian, so I know all about the ancient civilizations of the world. I’m less knowledgeable about modern times.”
It’s really interesting, but I know that by the time we return home I won’t remember a thing. Wolf looks just as interested, but oftentimes grows confused. Ken is really good at picking up on it and explaining more context in the simplest terms possible. Perhaps he should become a tour guide for Mazoku tourists on Earth. As if that’s needed. But maybe it is an idea worth exploring.
It’s Ken’s turn to pick the food. He picks a fast-food burger place.
“Really? More ground-up meat?” I give him a judgemental look. “This isn’t even fit for a date, let alone fitting for a Mazoku. I know Wolf wanted to try hot dogs, but we really should be feeding him higher quality products.”
Ken shrugs. “I figured we might as well give him the true Earth experience. Burgers are a tried favorite.”
I shake my head. “You do like hamburger, don’t you?”
He smirks and leans in to whisper in my ear. “Not as much as you like hot dogs.”
My eyes widen at his words. How am I even supposed to reply to that? I do like hot dogs. I also like hot dogs . I can’t pretend it isn’t true.
Wolf gives us a look, hands on his hips. “Stop secretly flirting. If you’re gonna do it, you better do it in the open.”
Ken raises his eyebrows. “Oh, I was just commenting on how much Yuuri enjoys hot dogs.”
Wolf makes a face. He probably isn’t piecing together the innuendo. Maybe it’s the hunger or Ken’s easy charm, but I’m bold enough to lead in and whisper in Wolf’s ear this time.
“Don’t worry, Wolf. I love your hot dog.”
He makes a high-pitched noise as he realizes just what we are talking about. “I…” He glances around at the few other patrons in the store before saying firmly but quietly. “I’d better hope so.” With that, he stomps up to the register leaving both of us free to chuckle at his reaction.
Finally, it’s time for my date. We stand in a long line at the entrance to the seasonal carnival. I figured this was the best option since Wolf probably can’t ride any of the rides. Here, there will be carnival games and sweet food as well. Wolf is angling his body to try and take in as much as he can of the carnival while we wait. Once we get inside, he stands in awe taking in the sight of the bright lights, the sound of excited screams, the smell of greasy sugar, and the feel of the wind coming from moving rides. That awe dies down when he realizes just how fast most of the rides are moving.
“Yuuri,” he says evenly, “you know that I have motion sickness.”
“Y-yes,” I say feeling a little nervous.
“Why did you think this was a good choice, then?”
“Because it’s a dating staple! Yeah, that’s right! Like Ken said about hamburgers, you need the full Earth and dating experiences, right? Besides, we can do other stuff than ride the rides. I bet you’ll love funnel cakes. And I can win you a giant stuffed bear.”
“A bearbee?” he asks, adoration in his eyes.
“No…they don’t have those here.”
“But,” Ken cuts in, “we might be able to find a bumble bee instead, if you’d like.”
“What is a bundle bee?”
Ken smiles. “Here, why don’t we look around and see if they have any.”
Eventually, we do find a bumblebee. It’s the grand prize for the shooting gallery. If it were bottle toss, I’d be confident in my throwing skills, but I’ve never been good at shooting. The aerodynamics are different. I give it a good try anyway and fail miserably. Wolf’s calling me an incompetent wimp and I’m challenging him to try then if he thinks it’s so easy. We’re both too caught up in arguing to notice that Ken has picked up the gun until the buzzer dings at a direct hit.
One, two, three. His score racks up until a singsong melody plays from the speaker proving that he has won a first-place reward.
My mouth gapes when he presents the gigantic bumble bee plush to a grinning Wolf. My fiance takes the plush and immediately smooshes his face against it. “I’m going to call you Randolph.”
“How did you do that?”
Ken shrugs as if it was no big deal. “I play shooting games.”
“Win me one, too.” I sound spoiled but I really want a gift from him, too.
He chuckles and I wonder if he’d be patting my head like a child if he could. “Alright. Which one do you want?”
I study the display of brightly colored animals. It's hard to see at first, but buried beneath a pile of teddy bears is a little grinning black fox. The eyes are squinted so you can't see the pupils. It immediately reminds me of Ken for his sly wit and hidden nature. It's nice on the eyes as well.
"That one."
"A fox? I thought you liked dragons best."
"I want the fox."
"Suit yourself."
He wins easily again and I can't decide if I'm jealous or turned on. When he hands it to me I decide impressed is the safest emotion.
Wolf's face is hidden by his plushie. "It’s only right you have one, too.”
Ken sets a winning smile at him, but with his face hidden as it is, I doubt he can see it. “You pick it out for me, then.”
“Oh, uh.” Wolf scans the animals, clearly thinking deeply about the decision. “The wolf,” he finally says, pointing enthusiastically.
“Why that one?”
“That way you’ll never forget which of us picked it out for you.”
Ken’s still smiling at him. I wouldn’t have put it past him to kiss the back of Wolf’s hand, but we’ve both been on good behavior.
Again he wins the plushie. He does mess up more this time, which makes me feel a bit better. The wolf required the least amount of points anyway.
We play a few more games. I do fine on bottle toss, cornhole, and darts. Ken is naturally the most versatile of us, doing decently at practically every game. Wolf takes the ones he tries far-too seriously. He throws darts with a frightening intensity and battle cry. With basketball, he throws the ball so hard against the rim, it bounces off and into the attendant’s face.
Ken is still laughing about it. “How about we take a break and eat?”
“Yeah, we should find the funnel cakes.”
We begin walking, looking at the different vendors we pass.
“I bet he’d also like deep-fried cheesecake bites,” Ken says.
“What? I didn’t know they make those. Why don’t we split a set? I want a big pretzel myself. You?”
He smirks. “Chili cheese fries.” I can’t tell if he is just picking that to egg me on about the hamburger comment.
We end up having to stop by multiple vendors. Which would be fine, except of course, Wolf ends up wanting to try carmel apples, cotton candy, and mozzerella sticks as well. As much as Wolf has always enjoyed sweets, he’s also always coupled that with healthy, organic proteins, frutis, and vegetables. I feel like we are tainting his healthy diet with this one trip. At least he’ll get some nutrients from the apple.
“Let me try your fries,” he demands as soon as we sit down.
“Sure.” Ken offers it freely and sets into his chicken tenders.
I take a bite of my pretzel as Wolf makes an agreeable sound. He sets his gaze on my pretzel. “Give me a bite of yours, too.”
“Don’t you have enough food?” I pass it over, though, and he pointedly bites from the same spot that I did.
Ken folds his hands over the table and sets his chin on them. “That isn’t exactly fair, Wolfram.”
Wolf smirks back. “Are you bothered by our affection?” He leans his head on my shoulder.
Ken lifts his cheeks higher. “Not at all. I would say it’s the opposite.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s…” Ken leans further across the table, “titillating.”
I choke on my drink. “Did you really just say that? Who uses that word?”
Ken sets his smile at me. “I do. Why, does it titillate you?”
“Dear lord.” I rub my forehead. He could probably make any word sound sexy, so yeah, I probably would be if he were whispering it to me under a different circumstance. But no, I’m not titillated by the word when we are sitting in public surrounded by unhealthy junk food.
“Just shut up and eat!”
“Yes, sir.” He tosses a cheesecake bite into his mouth and makes an obscene noise.
Okay, that was titillating.
“I think we’ve done everything,” Wolf comments.
“Not everything,” Ken says. He continues when Wolf gives him a look. “We still have the rides.”
Wolf crosses his arms. “Like I said, I can’t ride any of them.”
“Not true. You can probably ride the Ferris wheel.” He raises his eyebrows. “It’s a hotspot for lovers, you know?”
“Really?” Wolf turns to me. “Which one is this Ferris wheel?”
I point to the giant lit-up wheel. “It lifts you up slowly in a circle.”
He fiddles with the end of his t-shirt. “I think I can handle that.”
“You’re welcome,” Ken says, discreetly brushing his shoulder against mine behind Wolf’s back.
The line is short since most people are lined up for the roller coaster. Wolf’s smiling, but when we step into the swaying compartment, that smile wavers. He sits next to me, and I take his hand reassuringly.
“It’s safe, and if anything were to happen I would save you.”
He sighs in relief. Once he’s calm, he frowns at me and squeezes my hand back. “I’d save you, too.”
“I know.”
Ken has a bittersweet smile. “You two are…sweet,” he finishes after a long pause. He knows as well as Wolf about my issues. No use bringing them up and ruining the pleasant atmosphere.
“Look,” I point at the horizon that we are beginning to rise above, “isn’t it pretty?”
Wolf pushes his face close to the glass and Ken laughs. He really is cute, like a little excited pomeranian.
When we reach the highest point, Ken explains, “It’s tradition to kiss at the top.”
Wolf looks at him, then me. If Ken doesn’t mind, then I don’t see why not. “You need that full Earth experience, right?”
He huffs, but pulls me in for a kiss by the collar of my t-shirt. I expect something chaste considering our audience, but he pushes roughly at my lips. I moan against him, feeling the compartment rock slightly at his movements.
The sound of clapping fills the air. “Daamn.”
My cheeks feel hot for two different reasons.
“Jealous?” Wolf goads.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.” He leans in close. “But let me tell you a secret, Wolfram, it’s Yuuri I’m jealous of, not you. To have such passion thrust upon you, and by someone as exquisitely beautiful.”
I can see faint pink coloring my fiance’s cheeks before he whips it to the side to look outside the window.
“We should ride the roller coaster before we leave. What do you say, Yuuri?”
“I mean I want to, but…” I don’t want to leave Wolf out.
“Come on! It will be fun.”
“You should go,” Wolf says encouragingly. “I have the plushies to keep me company until you return.”
“If you’re sure.” We start walking over to the line.
“Remember when we rode this before? You were so scared you nearly broke my hand.”
“I wasn’t scared,” I lied. “I was excited.”
Wolf stomps up beside us. “I changed my mind. I’m going to ride, too,”
“But you’re motion sickness–”
“It’s seasickness!” he asserts. “I can ride a horse just fine.”
That’s not the same thing, but whatever.
It isn’t a large roller coaster, but it isn’t the tiniest either. Fortunately, it doesn’t do anything crazy like go upside down. Even I’d throw up if it did that. The cars seat two, so poor Ken has to sit alone behind us. If one of us had to, though, I sure he’s the one most capable.
The cars begin crawling up the long slope and already I can feel Wolf gripping my hand tightly. I want to ask if he’s okay, but it’s too late to get off now and I don’t want to make any panic worse. I squeeze the handrail as he death-grips my other hand as we take off on the descent. I can hear Ken’s scream of glee behind us. My own is a mixture of thrill and anxiety, but Wolf’s is downright dreadful.
I ache to do something to make it better, so I pull him in against me. This ends up being a very bad decision. Not a second later, he’s puking down my shirt. It’s sticky and unpleasantly warm.
Wolf looks miserable and ashamed as we stumble out of the ride. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I say that, but I’m going to have to stop by the gift shop for a new shirt. There’s no way I’m making it home in this filth. “Why did you think you could handle it anyway?”
He looks only at his feet. “I didn’t.”
“Then why?”
“B–because I was jealous, okay?”
“Jealous? Of what?”
“Because Murata said you held his hand last time. I said no touching, and…I wanted you to hold my hand.”
I laugh and grab his hand. He looks up at me in surprise. “I wouldn’t have held his hand, and if you wanted me to hold yours, all you had to do was ask.”
He looks back at his feet. “It was stupid.”
“And petty,” Ken adds. I give him a look to say “not helping.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve asked a lot of you, so don’t be so hard on yourself. I do need to get out of this shirt, though.”
“Oh,” Ken says with interest. “Going to take it off for us?”
“I might throw it at your face.”
“Kinky.”
Yeah. He won’t be saying that when he has puke in his mouth.
I hold Wolf’s hand all the way to the gift store, and then all the way home as well. Ken hovers near us, and even though I can’t actually hold his hand, I do in my mind. By the smile he gives me, I think he knows.