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Warm hands press into Leo’s cheeks, and the redhead squeals. It’s a sound he didn't even know he could make - involuntary and embarrassing enough that he feels the tips of his ears start to burn. Before he can even continue the thought -
“Awww, come on’ leo-san.” Coos Madara, and yep, his stomach feels like fireworks are exploding. Like fizzy soda and a burning warmth , Madara always feels like summer.
“Mama~” Leo whines, just to hear the name fall from his lips. Maybe because he enjoys the reaction it garners, always the smallest upturn of lips from his brown haired partner. It’s no secret that Leo is a glutton for attention and affection, and those are two things Madara has always been willing to gift him in spades. Especially when he acts like this.
Leo doesn't really enjoy expressing his embarrassment so easily - nor does he ever really experience it, period. At least, that’s what he prefers everyone to think, but Madara always has a way of pulling things from Leo that he had thought were long dormant.
Pale fingers clutch at tanned skin, where Madara has now rest his wrist on Leo’s collarbone, just to get a better angle.
“Leave it alone! I’m not a kid.”
Just to fill space, fill the compulsive need he knows Madara has to soothe and be pushed away, all in equal measure. It would be too easy for him to accept Leo's so freely given love.
“Calm down” Madara chides, and ah, there his other hand is, holding Leo by his chin. The tone of his voice, a symphony Leo has spent years listening to like a well-worn record, tells him he hasn't pushed him too far yet. That maybe Madara even likes it.
The syrup wipes from his cheek quickly enough, though Leo is doing anything but making it easy. Even as he’s wrapped around Madara's wrist, it takes very little effort for the larger of the two to shake it off, a small frown on his lips.
As a distraction, the older boy had been tasked with holding onto the rest of their acquisitions, small take out containers and snacks balanced on his lap as he perches on the well-worn edge of a picnic table.
Lithe fingers grip the paper edge of the container, trying not to touch all over Madara again. It feels greedy, with the way his hands already wander Leo's face, cleaning off more than is strictly necessary at this point.
“You know I can do this on my own.”
“I know ~” Madara grins, never one to so blatantly question Leo's abilities. “I just wanted to.”
Pressing as always, Madara likes to pepper in his own brand of blunt authenticity, just to gauge Leo's reaction. He's already boxed into Leo's space physically, knees pressed together and leaning over into his personal bubble (not that he’s ever really had one).
Calluses press into heat-warmed skin suddenly as Leo, not one to be outdone, is cupping Madara’s face. It requires a bit of tilting, enough so that he has to press a hand into Leo's thigh to keep him from spilling the food. Leo seems unperturbed, green eyes meeting and smiling coy, just the smallest bit of fang peeking out.
“Ah, look, you have a little something too!” Leo chides, but it seems more enthusiastic than anything.
Madara ignores the fact that he most certainly doesn't, having had only a bite or two earlier before deciding his energy was better spent watching Leo's eyes sparkle over the market options, tugging on Madara's sleeve and dragging him to get another sample.
Regardless, it’s easy to lean into Leo's warmth, to nod along. His breath catches when Leo surges forward and kisses the corner of his lip.
“Got it!” His grin is cheshire as he pulls away, and this close Madara can pinpoint the freckles that are starting to show as the weather warms. The canvas of Leo's skin never ceases to give him pause, and the redhead seems to quickly pick up on it, tugging the taller boy a bit closer.
“Mama,” The sing-song tone he uses would be mildly grating coming from anyone else, but the unadulterated adoration that drips from the word is enough to make Madara forgive without question. “Where would you be without me, huh? Cleaning your face, carrying our food, getting the perfect spot for the fireworks…”
Madara supposes he can't deny the last part. Concern bled into his features when Leo had first mentioned the idea, overprotective mind whirring through all the possibilities. Paramount to his worries was an audience.
Now, overlooking the water and blessedly, mercifully alone, Madara feels at ease enough to pull Leo in again, this time for something real.
As an added bonus, a reward for good behavior, Leo lets out a sound that has Madara pressing him just a bit closer. He’s aware, passively, that the wood might be digging into his partner's legs as he sits, and he reaches blindly to scoot the food in Leo's lap onto the table, not yet willing to pull away from the sweet taste. The way his hands fumbles about while his lips press kisses into skin would look a bit childish to any passerby, and Leo seems determined not to help, only loops his arms around Madara’s neck to keep him there. It all feels too good, too easy, kind. Leo is always kind, even when he’s not.
He’s cleared Leo's lap and started rearranging his legs to ease any tension when the redhead nips at his lower lip, just long enough to gauge Madara’s reaction before diving back in. It feels so soft, some impulse Leo had clearly just acted upon on instinct. Madara feels his heart clench like someones’ tugged on it, tried to steal it, and maybe he already has.
“Thank you, Leo-san.” He decides on saying, not pulling away, without preamble, praying he’ll understand. He always does.