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“Strawberry…balsamic?”
Sonic stopped mid-lick to stare at Genos from beneath his hooded jacket. “Yeah? You want some?” Sonic shoved the ice cream under his face.
The kid actually had the audacity to wrinkle his nose, grimacing at the offending cone in disgust. “No…no thank you. Just, please get it away from me.”
Sonic shrugged, pulling away. “Suit yourself!” He turned to face the street that ran parallel to the shop they sat outside, and slowly licked away at the treat. Every movement was purposeful, expertly executed with all of the seductive charm the ninja could muster. Sonic eyed the kid from his peripheral and was disappointed to see him characteristically un-flustered.
In fact, he looked decidedly sour.
“Does it really bother you that much?” he asked, whirling on the younger man in irritation.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It’s disgusting.”
And Sonic didn’t know why, he really didn’t, but for some reason that actually offended him. “Really? And like the shit you picked out is so much better?” he yelled, gesturing wildly at the cup in Genos’s hand.
The bastard actually pouted, scraping his spoon around the cup’s side before bringing it to his mouth. “Yes, actually,” he snapped back around a mouthful of melting ice cream. He swallowed. “The dulce de leche is delicious, and is paired splendidly with a butter-cream base. Where as that,” he scowled, pointing his spoon at Sonic’s cone, “abomination is a perfect example of how not to pair flavors.”
“Strawberry balsamic is the perfect combination of sweet and sour!” Sonic exclaimed, voice raising a good five decibels. “Your dulce de crapé is literally just a sugar-bomb. I’m getting second-hand diabetes just by looking at it; I don’t know how you eat that shit without a pallet-cleanser,” he retorted, giving his cone a big lick in defiance.
“Because I consume it slowly, as one is supposed to,” Genos answered, gazing pointedly at Sonic’s mouth.
“Excuse me asshole?” the ninja exclaimed, his waffle-cone cracking perilously under his tightening grip.
“You’re excused,” the fucker said with a small smile.
“Wow! Wow, okay, no,” Sonic shouted, pointing animatedly at the man across the table from him. His outburst was loud enough to garner some attention, and several passerby glanced up then to regard the disguised pair before continuing on their way. “You have your sensory processing upgraded for what? A month and you already think you’re some kind of damned ice cream connoisseur?”
“I never claimed such. I’m simply suggesting that if you slowed your rate of consumption, you may enjoy some of the finer flavors of the food you eat.”
“Okay, FIRST OF ALL you litte-”
Sonic’s cone did break then, pink ice cream spilling sloppily from his clenched fist and onto the table, his jeans, and his jacket.
“Shit!” he yelled, tossing the remains of the cone onto to cobblestone as he jumped to his feet. His chair scraped dissonantly against the ground, causing several people to actually stop in their tracks and regard the spectacle. “Shit, shit, shit, it’s everywhere!”
“That tends to happen when you crush the waffle cone in your hand,” Genos said with a smirk.
Sonic’s eyes snapped to Genos’s, wild, angry. He opened his mouth to respond, and then thought better of it, snapping it shut again. ‘I’m not going to even dignify him with an answer.’ He turned, batting away the kid’s proffered napkins, and stormed back inside the ice cream parlor.
Sonic threw open the door to the small bathroom, not waiting for the thing to close before spewing a series of profanity from his mouth. It really was everywhere. ‘I’ve even got some on my goddamn face,’ he noted bitterly, turning the handles to the sink with unnecessary vehemence. He snatched a paper towel from the dispenser, quickly wetting it and scrubbing furiously away at the mess. At least the jacket was black.
In his haste he had forgotten to lock the bathroom door, something he didn’t realize until the thing swung back open. Sonic didn’t bother looking up from his task; he could recognize the kid by the sound of his footsteps. A metal hand touched his shoulder, tentatively, and he tensed briefly before continuing to dab at the bottom of his jacket.
“Sonic-”
“Don’t,” he cut him off, tossing away the saturated paper towel for a clean one. He could see Genos shift uneasily on his feet in mirror, obviously not satisfied with his answer.
“I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”
Sonic snorted, and turned to face the younger man. He crossed his arms across his chest, squaring his shoulders in a deliberate show of hostility. “Not good at what? Not being an asshole 24/7?”
“No. Yes,” Genos replied, holding eye contact with Sonic. “I’m not good at…interpersonal relationships. At being considerate of the feelings of others. My behavior was rash and unacceptable, and I apologize.” And to his credit he looked, honest to god, sorry. His expression was solemn, his stance passive and yielding, his own shoulders sloped downwards.
“I can be irrational at times; I don’t always think things through,” he continued, gently brushing the hood away from Sonic’s face. The ninja let him. “Dr. Kuseno reminded me of this recently. I’m still relearning the subtleties of social interactions. But I am aware that is no excuse for the things I sometimes say.”
Sonic could feel something in his cold, dead heart stir, and in spite of his best attempt to stamp the thing out, he knew he couldn’t stay mad at the kid. His stance relaxed, and he reached a hand up to grab at the one Genos had resting on his shoulder. “Yeah, you can be a real ass sometimes,” he said, intertwining their fingers together. “But, you know, if arguing over ice cream flavors is as bad as this thing between us gets, then I think we’re doing alright.” That was probably as close to an ‘I accept your apology,’ as Genos was going to get. ‘I’m not exactly good with this whole relationship thing myself,’ Sonic noted.
But if the smile on his face was anything to go by, he was okay with that. He moved closer to Sonic then, and the ninja was once again reminded of how small he felt standing next to the kid.
“Speaking of ice cream, you appear to have missed a spot,” Genos said, eyes flashing mischievously.
“Oh?” Sonic asked, grinning in return. “Where?”
“Here,” Genos replied, moving in to give him a quick peck on the bridge of his nose. “And here, and here,” he continued, showering the ninja’s cheeks and forehead in a flurry of kisses.
Sonic squealed indignantly, spitting out a muffled “Get off!” against his neck. His tone was not convincing.
But Genos relented, pulling back briefly to survey the other’s face. And then his lips were on Sonic’s, and Sonic-
Sonic melted.
“Mmmmm,” he moaned, his hands wrapping around Genos’s shoulders and tangling in his hair.
He had to admit; dulche de leche ice cream was delicious.
The kid had definitely improved his technique over the past month. He no longer ran his tongue awkwardly over Sonic’s teeth, nor was he unsure of how to use his lips. Each movement was purposeful and practiced, executed with a confidence that only came from experience.
‘Have we really kissed that much?’ Sonic thought, dazed. He eventually regained his composure, moving his arms back in-between them and pushing away from his chest. Genos looked at him questioningly, hurt even. ‘It’s like kicking a puppy every time.’
“Not here,” Sonic explained, pulling the hood to his jacket back up. “As much as I love our make-out times, I’d rather not continue this in a public bathroom.” He turned and walked out, holding the door open for him.
“Hmm,” Genos replied, following behind him. The kid appeared to be thinking, rolling his tongue around in his mouth and squinting his eyes. ‘Tasting the ice cream,’ Sonic realized.
“See? Not so bad is it?” he asked as they exited the parlor.
“I’m uncertain,” Genos replied, running his tongue over his lips. He glanced down at Sonic then, and said, deadpan, “I need a larger sample size to analyze before I come to any conclusion.”
“That was lame you nerd,” Sonic said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
Genos shot him a cheeky grin. “But it’s working, isn’t it?”
“No,” Sonic said, trying his best to sound convincing.
“Liar.”
“No!..maybe.”
Genos laughed, triumphant, and grabbed Sonic’s hand as they made their way through the lunch-rush crowd.