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Unji was late getting home this particular night. Normally, he did go out to check on his found family. The streetlight lit walks cleared his head, to the point he wasn't sure he could sleep without them. Today was different. He did stop by the gang's hideout, but he barely stayed for any significant conversation. His sandals clacked off down the street just as quickly as they came. Where he went from there, the gang wasn't too sure of. Even Raiya only had a hint of an idea. And it wasn't his home with them or Bega.
The door to his and Bega's home opened, the squeak of the rotating hinges caught the officer's attention, yet he didn't denote that in any physical notion. He stayed over the sink. His hands continued to run a rag through a cup.
"You're late," Bega's words were stern, as they always were. If anything, Zuma would be concerned if he didn't sound stern.
"Yeah, sorry. I'll feed myself," Zuma waved his hand as he shut the door with the other. He proceeded to slip off his sandals and slip his coat off and onto the rack at the entrance.
"No need. The food is still warm," Bega noted as he stood more upright and looked over towards his son. Zuma then noticed the table was still set out, cushions and all. His bowl and plate set as it always was. The sight made his stomach squeeze. Guilt settled on him.
"You didn't wait for me to eat, did you?" Zuma's eyes squinted as he went over to set himself on his designated seat. He clasped his hands together, softly saying his thanks for the food, before moving on to grab his chopsticks.
Bega could have had a smile on his face with his tone, "You worried about me?" Yet there was no smile to be seen. Just as worn as always.
"Tch. Yeah, yer gettin' old. Course I'm worried about ya," Unji quipped back as he took a bite of his fish. That time, Bega did manage a smile.
"…Well stop. I have ate." Bega finished up the dishes then went back to join his adopted son at the table. "What kept you today? Someone causing you issues?" Unji recognized that look all too well. His dad was way too eager to place others under arrest. It's how they met, and Unji promised he'd remember that face.
"Not in a way that needs arresting." Zuma stuck with their snappy way of communicating with each other. Bega worked his words within the empty space while Zuma chewed.
"But you are having issues. Who is it?"
Zuma swallowed hard to respond sooner, "…Enjoji." There was a hint of hesitation with his words. Even his eyes avoided Bega as it escaped his lips. He didn't want to have this conversation with the old man. Personal matters weren't his business. …But he also knew what was coming next…
"What about the Enjoji kid?" Bega spoke up before Zuma had a chance to take another bite and avoid the question. The older man leaned forward some, eyes intensely focused on Zuma and his body language. Damn old man, he could feel you staring into his soul.
"We've…been spending more time together." Zuma bit his explanation short, yet it was done in vain.
"I'm aware of this much. Continue." The intensity of his gaze didn't waver a bit.
"Ugh- ok- fine." Zuma set his bowl down and pointed his chopsticks at Bega. "Stop looking at me like that first." His eyes squinted back at Bega, challenging him. Bega leaned up and simply softened his stare. It was still a stare, though, but Zuma will take what he can get. "…We're dating." Then he went back to eating his food, practically shoving his face into his bowl of rice. Praying to every possible God that Bega didn't see his cheeks darken with warmth.
Bega wasn't sure how to react to that. It wasn't something he expected Zuma to admit to. Seeing how they interacted, there was an inkling in the back of his mind that it was possible. Hearing it from Zuma himself was something else entirely.
The silence from his dad felt like an eternity. Even his own chewing was slower. Zuma was acutely alert to any possible sound around them. The sounds of the city outside even felt overbearing in this moment.
Luckily, Bega broke the tension soon enough.
"How long has that been going on?" It was a genuine question. Zuma was used to Bega's tone enough to tell that there was no negativity behind the inquiry.
"…Since yesterday." His face never lifted even a millimeter from that bowl.
"I see." There was a significant pause before the officer continued, "About time."
"HAH??" Unji practically slammed his bowl down. Hiding his flushed face was impossible at this point, so Bega was getting a look of indignation. Which was met with a smirk from his dad.
"You are not great at hiding when you care about someone. I didn't think someone like him would be your type." It looked like Bega was enjoying getting a rise out of his boy. Zuma merely scoffed at the smile on Bega's face.
"What? You…" Zuma grunted as he tried to collect himself to being able to uphold the usual rapport he has with Bega. What do you know about what I'm into? or What DID you think I was into? rolled around internally. "You're an asshole." He grumbled out as he scarfed down the rest of his food. Bega let out a cackle when that was all he had to say in response.
"…I don't care who you date, son." Bega stood up and took Zuma's empty dishes to go wash them. "You still didn't answer how he was bothering you." His tone implied a grin on his face. Zuma didn't look to check. A sigh exhaled from the teen.
"He was trying to get me to stay at his place." The words had barely made it past his lips before Bega responded.
"He moves fast."
Zuma went to jump up and bashed his knee on the bottom of the table, "FUCK." He swore as he grabbed his knee and glared up at Bega.
"Careful there. Wouldn't want him to have to come here and take care of you." That damned smirk never left his tone.
"Fuck off, old man." Zuma snapped back, but his own tone had softened to be more playful as well. "…I wasn't gonna stay somewhere without telling you first. That's all." Zuma rubbed on his knee before he pulled himself up proper. He then began to get the cushions and table put away.
"…I appreciate that. You have my permission to stay with him tomorrow. I'll put your food in the fridge." Bega finished with the dishes, putting them all away. By that time, Zuma had the table and cushions put away as well.
"…I don't need your permission." Which Bega knew to read as Zuma's own way of saying 'thanks.' He went over and placed his hand on Zuma's head, his own way of showing affection to his son.
"I'm happy for you, son. If you need anything, you know I'm here." Bega gave a soft pat on his head before moving forward to get ready for bed. Zuma remained quiet for a moment. Zuma couldn't hold back the smile that forced his lips upright.
"Yeah…Thanks." Zuma stood there for a moment longer. His heart full and head a buzz. Then finally, he carried on to prepare for sleep as well.