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“What has happened in the Wilson (if you WANT to count that ASSHOLE, Moore, as well, I suppose…) household now?” you may ask, knowing these two humans can never just do anything calmly. Hell, Adrian has seen farm animals get over petty grudges better than the young couple. Well… What do you think happens when you tell your partner that you’re going to cook one of his favorite meals another time; especially after a long day of privileged people arguing with you over where a specific brand of candy is in a poorly-run store? Usually, you’d be like “That’s understandable, he's probably too tired to prepare a meal at the moment.”, but not to Mew.
You see, Mew views this as if someone took a dagger and twisted it into his chest multiple times before spitting on his pooling blood.
“But, babe!” Mew whined, putting a hand over his forehead pathetically, “Please? I promise I’ll order you whatever take-out you want next time!” he then placed his hands together. “Mew.” Jimmy sighed flatly, shaking his head, “I told you already: We have no ingredients.” he turned around, flinging the coverboard doors open with a “slam!”. “Tell me if I can make organic pepperoni pizza out of fricking dust and crumbs?” he pointed at the embarrassingly empty shelves with his open palm. “You could if you tried hard enough, which you clearly don’t with anything.” Mew retorted, crossing his arms. The way he puckered his lips whilst leaning against the counter made Jimmy’s eye twitch.
“Excuse me?” Jimmy stepped up into his face. He looked up at him, whereas Mew eyed the T.V. in the living room.
He had an idea.
A perfect one, mind you.
A beat of silence passed between their brows, one being raised, the other deepening a frown. “Wow, okay.” the shorter one grumbled, putting his hands in the air to signal defeat. “Have fun having no treats this week, asshat.” he walked his way into their bedroom before shutting the door. Mew rubbed his hands together mischievously, chuckling rather darkly to himself. “This will be my ULTIMATE revenge…” he thought to himself, kneeling on the carpeted floor. His hand reached up to press the “Start” button on the gaming console. The T.V.’s speakers blared, causing him to scurry for the remote. He hastily turned it down with widened eyes, checking behind him for his already pissed-off boyfriend. The coast is clear… For now. “Jesus Christ, baby! Don’t make yourself deaf!” A voice shouted from behind a closed door.
His eyes followed the hand-shaped pointer that had a bright blue “1” on the back of its palm. A smirk spread on his shit-eating face, clicking on the rectangle titled “Mii Channel”. Mew then paused, staring at the “Mii Palace.”
Was this really fair to someone like him?
Someone as kind as he is, as patient with his temper tantrums over the stupidest shit ever in the recorded history of non-problematic issues?
His loved one takes the time to intricately treat every homemade meal with such time and effort that you can’t get from anywhere else...
“Nah. He deserves this.” He then dragged-clicked on Jimmy’s character… Who knows what he’ll do here.
Only time will tell…
In multiple minutes.
———
The taller man went towards the bedroom, leaning his head against the doorframe. A heartbroken exhale left his flopped body. “James…” Mew called out. There was an obvious pout in his weakened voice. “Yes, my love?” A flat, muffled response echoed. Mew kept quiet, making sure that this was what he really wanted to do. He doublechecked with his morals, the two devils on his shoulder just enjoying his thought process. The angel was beaten to death with rope tied around his cracked halo. If he did this properly, everything would go according to his favor…
Time to begin phase one: entice the victim with beloved video games from the 2010s.
“Wanna play Wii Party—” The door immediately sung open, with Jimmy’s beaming smile being the first thing that caught Mew’s eye. “You hardly ask me to play Wii Party with you!” he exclaimed excitedly, sitting on the couch. Jimmy patted the spot next to him quickly as his feet kicked below him. Mew flopped next to him, pulling him close by wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “Consider this an apology…” He grinned, before placing a peck on his lover’s forehead, “But don’t expect me to let you win.” he then winked, watching Jimmy select his Mii character. He tried to hide his devious expression. The infatuated giggling came to a halt. “What the fuck is wrong with my Mii?” Jimmy pointed at the proportionately short and skinny character, using the Wii’s remote. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO HIM, BARTHOLOMEW MOORE?!” he yelled, beginning to hit Mew’s beefed torso. Mew just laughed loudly, attempting to shield himself from Jimmy’s unreal attacks. He was really upset, but fear not…
Initiating phase two: seduce said-victim.
“It was payback!” He grunted through the fighting-back, finally grabbing him by his wrists. His hands pinned them down to the arm of the couch. Jimmy huffed. “Don’t make me work this hard when I’m starving…” Mew inched his face closer to his, letting the tips of their noses graze against each other, “Oh well, at least I have dessert right here…” his thumbs caressed his wrists, a stupid look on his amused face. Jimmy blinked at him, clearly unimpressed. He repositioned his circular glasses by jolting his head up for a moment. “I’ll let you kiss me IF you fix my Mii, and also apologize for your behavior that should’ve convinced me to break up with you at this very second.” he tilted his head towards the T.V., which still had the game running. “You’re just lucky that I can’t find anybody as gluttonous as you are.” He teased with a chuckle, “Who else would be my ever-so-helpful taste tester?” he then reached up to pinch his burning cheeks. The background music wasn’t really helping in setting the mood; Honestly, have you ever tried making out to a Wii game’s soundtrack? Mew made a grumbled sound of embarrassment mixed with a groan, placing one hand on Jimmy’s chest, whilst the other fiddled with the controller. He muttered curses of failure under his breath.
He didn’t even get to phase three…