Chapter Text
When Ankh tumbled onto the bed under Eiji’s window, his muscles seizing in trepidation at the smell of miso and grilled mackerel, he just knew today was going to be a problem.
“Morning, Ankh,” Eiji called to him from the kitchen, long since used to Ankh’s refusal to use a door when the window was right there. “I made breakfast! Come and eat before it gets cold.”
Ankh swallowed the epithet on his tongue and quickly rolled over to get to his feet, since – Oh fuck – Eiji’d made breakfast.
Not that Eiji didn’t do most of the cooking, Ankh figured it was only fair since he ate the bulk of it, but breakfast just wasn’t a meal that either of them normally bothered with. Even at Cous Cousier, it had generally been toast, tea, and whatever bits could be snatched during morning prep. These days, by the time Ankh came in from wandering the city at night – it was much more fun to terrorise local thugs than deal with a cranky Eiji the next day if he accidentally woke him up – Eiji was usually out either training his pack of feral junior riders, or putting out fires at the museum he ran with Double’s brain. Philip tried his best, but blood did occasionally tell and Shouta was a welcome sight for the staff when one of the displays became ill-tempered and started rampaging. So Eiji staying home to cook breakfast was strange, and more than strange: suspicious.
Last breakfast, if Ankh remembered correctly, which he always did, had been Hina’s 60th birthday party –“Ne, Ankh, why don’t we fly to France? I’ll race you” – which had started fun, continued being fun when Eiji’d almost gotten shot down over Russia, and then became horrific when Eiji’d finally broken and told him why he’d suddenly wanted to see Paris. Hina’s children were all just as stubborn and freakishly strong as their mom and as boisterous as their father, although thankfully understanding that gold lamé should be reserved for accents only on clothes. (Ankh had never had to sit on his instincts as much as that first meeting, especially since he doubts Eiji would have been that impressed, no matter how shiny the sushi chef was.) Irritatingly, however none of their brats were the least bit intimidated by him, although Ankh took some solace in that her two eldest had started calling Eiji ‘-kun’, which he never ceased to find hilarious.
The breakfast before that had been Date and Gotou’s 20th wedding anniversary, and if Ankh had been asked one more time when he was going to make an honest man out of Eiji – Ankh thought Eiji was disgustingly honest enough as it was – well, he’d have done much worse than convince Eiji to buy the most obscene serving tray they could find for his present. He’d thought it a fitting revenge, decorated with little dolls and in purple, but he’d underestimated the both of them as Date loved it and Gotou charmed the name of the store out of Eiji, so he’d likely be returning the favour at a later date. At least he’d been able to keep up the tradition of setting the bouquet that someone (Date) always managed to sneak Eiji at these events, on fire (and burning off most of Eiji’s suit in the process). Ankh always did feel that his actions, especially when it came to arson, tended to speak louder than words.
Ankh reached out, turning back towards the open window, even knowing it was likely futile. He huffed in annoyance as Eiji’s hand caught him around the wrist and he glared up at the older man.
“Fucking hell, who’s going to try to kill you today?” he snarled, giving a token pull of resistance, but knowing full well that he’d be getting his hand back when Eiji’d decided he’d been socialized enough for the morning.
“Come on Ankh, I made you breakfast.” Eiji cajoled, tugging Ankh off his bed and closing the window.
“You aren’t pregnant, are you?” Ankh smirked, but let Eiji pull him towards their kitchen.
Eiji rolled his eyes as he led Ankh along. “We both know that I don’t actually believe that anymore, but thank you for reminding me that I should call Date-san and see how Gotou and the girls are.”
“Che. I never thought I’d feel sorry for yummys, but those are some poor bastards who go up against them. One Satonaka was bad enough, and without being a rider. Her kids are putting you to shame, old man.” Ankh smirked, and then looked down to where Eiji was still holding onto his wrist. “You can let go. I’m not going anywhere, idiot.”
“Ahh, actually–”Eiji pushed Ankh onto his stool, and went to the other. Sitting down, he picked up his chopsticks before turning to Ankh with a fond glare.
“Che.” Ankh picked up his chopsticks and held them through Eiji’s “itadakimasu,” before impatiently dropping them and turning towards the man beside him. “Eiji–” only to find his mouth full of carrot.
“Bastard.” Ankh chewed though – it was pretty good – and obediently poked at the fish on his plate. If Eiji wasn’t going to tell him what was going on then he wasn’t going to ask; Eiji had that look about him, the one he got when asked about what he’d done to bring Ankh back or his age. Since, although Ankh would teasingly call him ‘old man’, it was only funny because Eiji didn’t age, not visibly anyways. He looked the same now as when Ankh had given him his cracked core all those 40 years ago. Same floppy hair, same goofy smile, same horrible taste in clothes; just a little more tired around the eyes. Eiji’s apparently eternal youth was just something they didn’t talk about, like how he sometimes would disappear to Kougami’s labs for days (Ankh really didn’t care, since generally Eiji going there would mean random yummys appearing around the city, and you could never have too many cell medals), and popsicles. Ankh didn’t know what was going on with Eiji and popsicles – certainly they don’t taste as good now as he remembered, but he thought that was likely his new body – but that didn’t explain the look Eiji got whenever Ankh reached for one, and since other things tasted better now – spicy food especially – well popsicles just weren’t worth it.
At one point, he’d even asked Date about the look, thinking it might be some weird human thing – this was before the ‘why sleeping in Eiji’s bed will make you pregnant’ talk – and the ex-Rider had started spouting nonsense about birds and bees – which made no sense, Eiji wasn’t generally an insect, Gatakiriba aside –. Ankh had really thought it was about sex, but he figured that someone would have just told him in that case.
“We’re going to go and pick someone up from the airport, umm actually you’re going to go and pick someone up from the airport.” Eiji mumbled around his chopsticks.
“What?! Eiji!” Ankh slammed his chopsticks down on the table, and Eiji covered his hand with his, fingers sliding familiarly along the grooves, before clutching just this side of desperate.
“Eiji?” Ankh asked nonplussed.
“Sorry Ankh, but there’s going to be a big to-do for the Riders today. You know how I’ve said Shotaro-sempai and Philip-san have been having trouble with the new kid? And things are getting out of hand?” Eiji wasn’t looking at him, but rather staring off into the middle distance, absently running his thumb along the side of Ankh’s hand.
“Che.” Ankh snorted. “Someone should just tell that kid to quit.”
“Well, Kougami has an idea he wants to try, but they want all of us to be on call in case something goes wrong. But someone needs to go to the airport and I can promise there will be plenty of danger and lots of yummys,” Eiji said, wheedling. “But if you think you can’t handle it on your own…”
Ankh slid his hand out from under Eiji’s and grasped him under the chin, forcing Eiji to look at him directly.
“You’re still a fucking horrendous liar, you know that?” Ankh snapped, but cut Eiji off when he went to continue. “You’d better be right about the yummys, or else I’m going to leave that window open every night and make sure to step on you when I come in. Idiot.”
“Thanks Ankh.” Eiji nodded a little, as much as he could with Ankh’s grip on his chin. “If you can drop me off at the docks on your way, I’ll catch a ride home with one of the others. Also, you are still holding my chin; it’s getting a little weird.”
Ankh snorted, but dropped his hand and turned back to his breakfast. “So who am I picking up and what am I getting in return?”
“It’s just some kid I used to know; you’ll recognise him, I’m sure.” Eiji smirked a little, “I put his flight info in your Ipod last night, and I made you breakfast didn’t I?”
“I fucking hate you. Whatever you and Kougami are cooking up, the yummys had better be extremely flammable this time.”
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“Ok, so here we are.” Eiji sighed, letting go of Ankh’s waist and swinging off the back of the motorcycle. He pulled off his helmet, and turned to look pensively over the water.
Ankh turned off the bike and kicked down the stand, feeling something he hadn’t for a long time, like a pull, a tug, or a warning hanging in the air. He swung off the bike and tore his helmet off, throwing it to the ground. “Eiji! The fuck?! Whose core medals are they?!” He grabbed Eiji and shook him. “What’s going on?! You idiot! What did you do?!”
Ankh stopped as he felt Eiji’s hands come to rest on top of his, and at the resigned tone in Eiji’s voice. “Ahh, you can feel him already Ankh? Then I don’t think we’ve a lot of time.”
Eiji’s hands clutched Ankh’s, tight enough for Eiji to cut himself along Ankh’s scales, but although Ankh could feel blood running along the back of his hand, looking into Eiji’s eyes he didn’t think Eiji had even noticed.
“I’m going to distract him as much as I can, since you’ll need the time, but – mah, from here I don’t know how it goes.” Eiji sighed and let go of Ankh’s human hand, screwing his face into what Ankh recognised as his ‘I might die, but I’m stupidly okay with it; look here are Tomorrow’s Underwear’ expression. “So, you come back, ne Ankh? You do what you need to and come back.” He felt Eiji tuck something into one of his back pockets. “You save me, and then come back home.”
“Eiji, what the hell?!” Ankh went to shake him again, but stopped as Eiji moved to cup his face and kissed him, desperately, deeply, and with something that Ankh would later swear felt like a lifetime of longing. Ankh was breathless when Eiji let him go, gasping for air and reeling, with Eiji’s blood on his face and his taste on his tongue.
“I love you, so come back,” Eiji whispered into the space between them. He dropped one more light kiss onto Ankh’s lips and then leaned back. Ankh barely reacted in time, moving his arms to block Eiji’s kick from connecting with his ribs, but even so Eiji pushed Ankh off the dock and Ankh found himself falling, not into the water, but rather out of his time.