[ he chuckles at the promise of the two out of three, and then his heart soars again, like it's grown wings and learned to fly within the past five minutes — will he ever get tired of this, junpei speaking halted but honest words about how much charles means to him? no, he doesn't think so. he has equal trouble believing he'll ever really get used to it.
and then you've been the best thing that's ever happened to me hits him with the force of a bloody missile — not least because he can't quite believe he could be the best thing to happen to anybody, but also because this is junpei, who so often chooses actions over words, and to hear him actually say this out loud —
it's staggering, is what it is, and it makes charles have to glance away just for a second to gather his bearings. ]
You — [ no, his voice still sticks in his throat, but he tries his best, tightens his arms around junpei as he looks back at him, ] Sometimes I love you so fucking much I don't know what to do with myself.
[ and that 'sometimes' is not entirely accurate — perhaps 'increasingly often' might work better. still, he smiles, just a bit tremulous, and yet no less adoring than before. ] It's just you, [ he says, because in the end, that is what it all comes down to. ] Of course it's you.
[ it is an echo of what he'd said, back in that dressing room — back when he had been saying this same thing even without knowing it.
and when he bridges the already small distance between them, it's to press one of those chaste, loving kisses against junpei's lips. as he pulls back, he huffs out a slight laugh. ] Right, can't keep kissing you forever on this sidewalk, can I? Should we...
[ he trails off, because he's not entirely sure what to suggest except move — keep walking? he's not really interested in seeing the city, right now. go back home? certainly an appealing idea. get junpei something to eat? probably sensible but also not very romantic — ]
[It's true that Junpei is habitually a man of action more than words - he's just not very good at them! If he isn't stumbling over the serious parts then he's getting too emotional in some other way, and it's just easier to show before telling most of the time— and so of all things, when he manages to get out a whole earnest line without stumbling in the middle, the last thing he expects is for Charles to... get choked up? Huh?
It's all he can do to slide his hands up to cup Charles' face in both of them, make sure he doesn't look away again, giving him a crooked kind of grin. Doing anything for Charles includes this, right, embracing all of the overwhelming emotions head-on, even when he hardly knows what to do with himself, either. He doesn't say things like the best thing that's ever happened to me for his health, after all.
But he doesn't say anything, simply holds Charles' gaze like that for a few extra moments after they've kissed, before he reaches behind his own back for a hand to hold. Frankly, well,]
Charles, if you ask me, you can do whatever you want. Just saying.
[Buuut okaaaay, they should... go... elsewhere. Plenty of things to do. Probably. He clears his throat and considers the street. Hmm.]
Things look pretty normal here. No reason to hang around.
[—although,]
...Does everyone here seem like they're super pissed off to you?
[ it's all too easy to get lost in junpei's eyes; but the overwhelming surge of feelings calms into something no less strong but steadier, an ocean instead of a waterfall, and charles exhales slowly and smiles as their hands find each other once again. and they've done this so many times now that it's almost routine, but it feels different, more somehow, with both of them knowing the meaning behind it now. ]
Right, [ he says with a little grin, and well, charles would be lying if he tried to say junpei's frank correction and the implicit and explicit permission to kiss him whenever doesn't make him want to do just that, despite just having decided otherwise; he compromises by lifting their joined hands and pressing a kiss to junpei's knuckles instead.
and then the question makes him look around, considering. ] You mean, more than they should be for us blocking the sidewalk for ten minutes? ... Huh. Yeah, guess they do.
[ and that's probably something to look into, because that definitely wasn't a thing before... but does he really care? really, truly? ]
Well, that's different and all if we're not just imagining it, but... being honest? I don't really give a shit. Not right now. [ instead, he fixes junpei with a look. ] When's the last time you actually ate something? Like, an actual meal?
[ because it's been three days and he's having a hard time believing junpei bothered to make anything proper for himself if he spent the entire time worrying. ]
Could've blocked it for twenty, [Junpei says, giving a look to a passing woman with a sneer who makes an aghast noise and hurries on, affronted. They could have blocked this sidewalk even longer, which now means specifically to piss these people off and because he'd like to kiss Charles at least a hundred times more before they go and do something else. But if he's going to make faces at the locals now, then— oh, what? Meals?
Ah, and he can't help but grin sheepishly,] Wait, what? Now I'm in trouble?
[Hey hey, what's that look, haha, he totally takes care of himself, he has Eaten... The fact that he has to think about this is telling enough, but listen, it's been a stressful time.]
I had a sandwich, uh, yesterday. That's a meal.
[It's not a meal. And maybe he should be more embarrassed about being called out like this, and he will, honestly, this must be part of their promise to take better care of themselves, but... well! Honestly, he's stuck on the fact that Charles wants to take care of him at all, just like during the gnos event, or when he was drunk... no one has ever wanted to look after him before.
But he will learn to cook whole meals, really, for sure. Starting soon. He holds up his free hand in defeat,] Soooo... it's lunch time, then?
[ in response, charles lets out a fond sigh; this is just about exactly what he expected, really, and he gives junpei one (1) look of gentle admonishment — before he does what he explicitly said he wouldn't do and just, you know, ducks his head and leans in to give him yet another kiss. oops —
anyway, pulling back, ]
Yeah. You got anything back at the house? No, [ he corrects himself immediately, ] Probably not what I'd need.
[ and then he seems to realise he's being a little cryptic, and directs a sheepish smile at junpei. ] I'm not a great cook, but I do know some recipes, yeah? Used to help Mum out with chores. One time when her wrist was broken, back when I was twelve, I did all the cooking with her instructions, so I kind of kept helping after that, too. Dad never did much in the kitchen, so...
[ so it was a win-win in his eyes, spending time with his mom while avoiding his dad. and the implications of how his mom's wrist got broken aside, ]
[Hm, lesson learned: he can do whatever and Charles will still kiss him about it, good to know. Seriously, good to know, but he'll still put more effort into, mm, himself.
Anyway, he says, faux-indignant,] Hey, I have ingredients, [which they both know he does not. If they're getting ingredients they can start walking again, which Junpei does with a little tug on their hands. This story about Charles' mom is pretty cute, other than...
Well. He can guess. Privately, without bringing it up, because it's the cute part that matters.]
You're gonna cook for me? Only an idiot would turn you down, so yeah, let's curry it up.
[Well, he expects he might just be watching, but even so. Truly only an actual fool would say no to home-cooked meals; Junpei is ready and willing to make googoo eyes at Charles over his kitchen counter for however long it takes to prepare curry. He has no idea.
On the way, though, he'll overtly fish for more cute Charles memories:]
[ as they wander along the street towards the closest grocery store, charles lets out a genuine chuckle over the curry it up, and if that doesn't show how far gone he truly is then nothing does — and then, with a bright, somewhat nostalgic grin, ]
Yeah, she's brills. Her chicken curry was the highlight of all the potlucks, you know, my cousins and I would fight over who got the biggest portion. And shit, her baked plum tart? Wish you could taste that... but I don't know the recipe. She only made that on special occasions, and wouldn't let me help with it.
[ he sighs as he stops in front of a store called 8-twelve, which, hm! but he pushes the door open even as he says, ] She loved cooking. Reckon she still does.
[ there's a touch of wistfulness there, enough for him to drop the topic as he starts gathering ingredients, spending the longest time in front of the spice selection. but maybe it explains why he is strangely invested in cooking despite thirty-five years of not needing to do it at all. ]
How about you? What's your favourite dish? [ he tries to sound very innocent, like he's asking just out of curiosity and not so he can just learn how to cook whatever it is... ]
[Oh, and if curry it up gets him a laugh, he will never stop. Charles will live with this forever now. Junpei is way too pleased with himself over that, giving him a grin and his hand a squeeze as they head for the store.]
The secret amazing plum tart...? Damn, now I'm really hungry.
[But really, he just likes to hear Charles talk about his good memories, especially given the rest of what he knows. It's obvious that it's important enough to him that Junpei would probably say yes to anything he wanted to make, just for little moments like this. It helps that curry is delicious, of course...
He has no idea what to do with himself in this store, though, so he just stands there and waits for Charles to pick out his things. Should he have grabbed a basket? He probably should have grabbed a basket. He is nailing this.]
What? Oh, uh, I dunno, really... Don't act too surprised, but I've been living off instant ramen and American fast food back home. [don't judge him. anyway, a Real Dish, hmm,] I guess if I picked something that wasn't cheap crap, then... cold soba is pretty good.
[Guy who only eats noodles and hamburgers voice: "Dish"???]
[ it's really not his fault that he finds junpei incredibly charming when he's making little jokes like that — or perhaps it is, but it's a fault he's happy to embrace.
at the little offhand comment of him being hungry, charles blinks and nods. ] Right, so we'll get you a snack. It takes a bit to simmer, so...
[ anyway! junpei doesn't need to stand idle for long, because charles starts handing him the things he picks out, one packet of spices after another. and then, ] Hold on a tick, [ he gives junpei's hand a squeeze before letting go and phasing through a few shelves, returning in maybe half a minute with a basket that's somehow half-full of an assorted collection of vegetables and a plastic-wrapped piece of chicken.
as he entwines their hands again, he does, in fact, give junpei a look that's half-flat and half-amused, because instant ramen and fast food, seriously, he hopes it's not been the case here because then he should have been cooking for him months ago.
but oh, an actual answer, ]
Cold soba, huh? Right, sure. I'll look into it. I was already gonna learn how to make a ramen broth or whatever that's called. You're gonna have to taste-test for me, though. Got no idea what the authentic thing tastes like... and it's not like I can taste it myself, can I?
[ he then tries to sort of wave his other hand at their surroundings, except it's holding the basket, and so all he ends up doing is jostling it and nearly tipping it over — he manages to balance it with a sharp snap of his wrist, but not before swearing under his breath. ] Uh, so, pick a snack? Or two. Or ten.
Huh? [There goes Charles, and Junpei really does stand there, the epitome of local dunce who does not know how to grocery shop, waiting for him to come back. He's just holding these spices... yep...
Thank god he comes back quickly so Junpei can offload this stuff and go back to holding hands, a thing he's really good at.]
You'll need to get all the bones and stuff for good ramen broth, [he says, because he's a ramen critic despite eating 99 cent Bowl Noodles (tm) for years and years. He can help with that one! —Not that he's ever made a broth himself, but he's, you know, looked it up.
Anyway,] Do you want me to hold the basket...? I don't need that many snacks. Just, like, some chips or something.
[ the way his eyes light up at this nugget of ramen broth wisdom is maybe a little silly, but his enthusiasm is entirely genuine when he squeezes junpei's hand and declares, ] Aces, then you can help so I don't muck it all up. I was told it's a whole process, but... [ but, well, he doesn't really have too many things to do, so he might as well spend some of his time perfecting specific japanese dishes.
and then he glances at the basket he almost upended in the middle of the store and winces. ] No, it's fine. Just pick whatever you want, yeah? And then we can go.
[ they've made it to the last aisle before the cash register, the one with the snacks, and the cashier is ignoring them with an attitude best described as frigid, and, well. when junpei has picked what he wants, and after charles doubles back to grab a few treats for gab, he will hold his smile steadily in place through paying for the groceries, and only lets out a sigh when they finally make it outside again. ]
Jesus. If this is how it's gonna be from now on...
[ he falls silent for a moment as they start walking back to junpei's house. ] You think my landlord's gonna be like this, too?
[ because if so... well. he can handle people he doesn't know disliking him for no reason, but people he's sort of got along with before this? wow, he hates that. ]
[Junpei hums; he'll do his best to muddle through helping with the good broth with the bones, sure. He grabs, honestly, the first bag of chips that isn't some weird flavor like sour cream and birthday cake or whatever, and spends their whole interaction with the cashier staring sourly at them, since Charles doesn't seem willing to be annoyed in public. Fuck this cashier, actually—
So it's a relief to be back outside and heading home, and hm, it seems like Charles does give a shit about the locals' behavior now, in the exact way that tugs at Junpei's heartstrings.]
Dunno... probably? Maybe they'll all collectively get over it, but I dunno.
[He doesn't have any real personal attachment to the locals himself, but hm, it would be a shame for Charles - what about that old lady, Gia? How many locals is Charles friendly with, anyway...]
You can hang out at my place if it's too awkward at yours.
[ there's a difference to it all: strangers hating him for no reason? well, that he's used to — half the people he met back when he was alive had taken one look at the biracial guy with an earring and judged him as not enough, in the best case, or treated him as something lesser in the worst one. it had grown a little less common as an occurrence in his death, but still they'd come across clients who'd died well before charles with similar attitudes. but those people, well, the one thing he refuses to do is show them that he minds it; if he's friendly and polite and not offended, then it just shows they're the ones who are wrong. the biggest fuck you he can give them is to not waver in his own friendliness, at all.
but people who he's met before? who he's gotten along with before? who he likes, at least well enough, changing their opinion of him on a dime? that's a little too close to his very real memories of his death, and though he's usually very good at hiding his apprehension, some of it bleeds through into the way he visibly tenses up when junpei says probably, the way his eyes stare at nothing for a second or two before he shakes himself back to the present with a blink.
and then he smiles, because some reflexes are just too ingrained in him to beat. ]
Nah, it's fine. I'm sure it's fine, but thanks. I just — [ he shrugs, ] Well, wouldn't want you to get sick of me, would I?
[ his tone is very light and joking, but he absolutely means it. ]
[It's impossible to miss the way Charles reacts to that, although Junpei can't quite get all way to making the proper connection. He's gotten used to it for better or for worse, being by himself, not noticing as friendships drift away; admittedly there had been less vitriol in his lost college friendships than the way the locals are treating them now, so maybe that's not a helpful comparison. Either way, he understands the part about him.
He shakes his head and grips Charles' hand tighter. The hurt of being left behind unless it's convenient? That one he knows, so no, absolutely not. When Charles isn't around he spends all his time literally waiting by the phone, even, that was only a day ago...!]
Not gonna happen. Besides, it's... [hmm. how to phrase,] I mean, you don't always have to be on, you know? Not for me. You want to come over and zone out for a while, well, my door's- uh, I guess the mirror, actually- the mirror's always open.
[And he doesn't have a landlord! Tada! His landlordless house comes into view up ahead and Junpei slows them down just a bit; it wouldn't be a huge problem to continue this conversation over curry-making, sure, but it feels better to finish it out here. Let cooking time be nothing but good memories and tasty food, actually.]
You don't have to put up with weird bullshit from anybody, so... if things get too weird, I've got your back. Okay?
[ it's impossible for him to not give junpei a warm smile at that as they slow to a stop in front of the house. ]
I know you do. [ there's not too many things he's certain of in this place, but that is one of them; even before they spoke of their feelings, charles never once doubted junpei's care for him. ]
But that goes for you, too, yeah? The being on part. I mean, and the part about having your back, but — well, the thing is, I'm used to sharing my space. But you're not, are you? So if you ever feel like you want to be alone, or just... exist quietly in the same room, you let me know. Cause I —
[ the warmth has now migrated to his eyes, too, and the tension has bled out of the line of his shoulders. ] I can't imagine ever not wanting to be around you. So if you'll have me...
[ he shrugs; then it's entirely possible he'll never leave, and he can certainly live with that. ]
[Here they go, trying to out-concession each other again. Junpei makes a brief face, like actually, he doesn't think he's ever been on in his life, which is probably his first problem— but if Charles is willing to have him even while he's in a "one cheese sandwich and six hours of doing nothing" mood, he couldn't possibly object.
There's a point in there, he's not going to deny it; Charles is right that for one reason or another he is unaccustomed to sharing his space, but Charles also makes it worth it to share, to let him in. More than he already has, all things considered...]
You're so... c'mere. [Junpei nudges the bag of groceries politely out of the way and tugs Charles' hand, leaning in (up) to kiss him, warm and deliberate. What does he say other than "holy shit I love you" a hundred times, give him a second. He lingers there, close, brow knit in a serious thoughtfulness more than anything else, and he comes up with:]
Damn, I really love you. And honestly? I don't want you to leave. [And he does a wiggly kind of shrugging thing with his shoulders, like of course Charles can come and go as he likes, but! It's the saying it that matters! Junpei steps back, reaching blindly for the door as he can't quite take his eyes off Charles until he commits yet another one of his looks to memory.
This is of course until he bonks his hand against the doorknob, swears and shoots it a glare, and alright— now they can head inside, on that prime note of smooth operating.]
—Anyway, so, cooking... I've still got that apron from lunch duty at Richard's camp thing. [wear this apron. do it for love.]
[ really, charles is willing to have him no matter his mood — that's the point about love, after all, to want someone around even when others might consider them poor company. he's never going to love junpei any less, whether he's happy and joking or angry and sharp or quiet and sad; his love isn't dependent on anything else than junpei simply being himself.
when junpei tugs on his hand, it is charles' turn to go willingly, and he kisses him back with a soft, content sigh. briefly, he wonders whether they could simply forget about the rest of the world and keep kissing, because every time they do he's reminded of the fact he's wanted it for so long and is now allowed to do it and the fact he's doing something else is an affront, frankly —
except when junpei steps back it's first with a contemplative look and then with words that leave charles' chest expanding with warmth once more, and he knows his smile is small and pleased and embarrassingly besotted... but he can't really bring himself to care. ]
Love you too, [ he says, because he can, and because he does.
and then he's biting down a laugh at the swear and the glare at the poor innocent doorknob, and they can proceed with the whole lunch plan. except — ]
Oh, bloody hell. It was cute on you, but seriously? [ what is he saying. of course seriously. it's the kind of a joke where junpei also means it, and charles stops in the middle of sorting the groceries on the kitchen counter and sighs. ]
Right, sure. Might as well.
[ so what was it about junpei being able to ask him to do anything and he'd do it... ]
[Junpei's grin brightens as they head into the kitchen, both for the love you and for Charles absolutely caving to his silly demands so very easily. He crouches down to get the apron out of where he's folded it up and stashed it in a low cabinet, and when he's straightened up Gab has come trotting in, hearing the sound of a store bag and seeking out a treat.
Junpei pauses for a moment there, struck slightly by what a huge departure this moment is from just yesterday—and yet not really all that different, if he really thinks about it. That turns his grin a shade softer, even as he's still visibly finding it hilarious to present Charles with this NO BITCHIN' apron. A token of his many affections, clearly.]
Too easy, it's like you like me or something.
[Ha ha, now duck, so he can toss the apron's neck loop over Charles' head, after which he gives the assortment of ingredients a mildly intimidated look.]
Soooo, knowing what you do about me and cooking, do you want me to help...?
[ meanwhile, charles shrugs off first his overcoat and then his jacket and takes a few steps to throw them over a chair; on the way back, he's crouching down to scratch gab behind the ears with a fond hi, buddy.
as he stands up again, he is faced with the apron (which he's still unsure of) and junpei's smile (which is still the loveliest thing he's ever seen, even when it's half at his expense) — and ha, right, the quip makes him roll his eyes... but he does duck his head and then ties the apron behind his back to hold it in place properly. ]
Course I do. [ though he adds, before junpei can be too anxious about this news, ] You're gonna help by keeping me company. Think you can do that?
[ as he reaches for the cutting board and a knife and starts peeling and chopping up vegetables, he can't help but think that all this — them, cooking lunch, gab circling their feet, it's all horribly domestic... and it makes him so, so overwhelmingly happy. ]
[Oh, good, Charles wants him to mess up the whole thing, isn't curry kind of more complicated to make than a sandwich, can't he just sit here and watch Charles be cute with Gab— oh that is the plan actually, great. He can definitely do that.]
Think I can manage...
[He'll keep Gab from getting too excited about little treats, stooping to nudge the dog away from Charles, mumbling, ("Let him work, come on, you're with me") before simply scooping up the old man and moving to the other side of the kitchen counter.
This really is domestic, isn't it? Junpei has no complaints, but huh! It's a surprise every time, in a way.]
So... tell me what you're doing? Give me the curry play-by-play.
[ he slides the chips over to junpei so he can have his pre-lunch snack if he wants to, before launching into an explanation — peeling and chopping onions, grating garlic and ginger, sautéing them all, adding cinnamon, cloves, cardamoms. the tomatoes make him launch into a surprisingly passionate speech about how you should never use canned tomatoes in a real curry (something his mom drilled into him) — then it's time to add yoghurt, more spices and the chicken.
and he can’t help but feel a little self-conscious at times about whether all this is really all that interesting, but junpei did ask, so... he keeps explaining every step, offering little details about how his mom would make the dish, how she used a specific combination of spices that had been used in the family for generations; little things to fill in the silence between his chopping and stirring.
when the curry is finally simmering under the lid, charles steps back with an exhale. ]
Right, now we just let it be for a tick. Though, hold on, [ he grabs a spoon, lifts the lid and scoops up some of the curry. ]
I can still adjust the flavour, so, taste test it for me, yeah?
[ instead of handing junpei the spoon, he'll just reach over to hold it for him. ]
[Junpei does not know, and likely will never know, this much about curry. Even when he gets around to learning to cook something properly, it probably won't be as, hm, sensitive a dish? And yet he could still listen to Charles talk about spices and chicken and the perils of canned tomatoes for hours, no questions asked. Munching on the occasional chip and listening to Charles while the smell of curry starts to fill the house - it's fucking idyllic in here. He's absolutely enthralled.]
How long's "a tick"?
[Surely there's a timer? Is there not a real timer? He's trusting in the process here, given that he wouldn't know any better.
And he rises a little off his seat to lean forward and taste that spoonful without hesitation, considering it with a thoughtful eyebrow wiggle. Does it taste better automatically because Charles fed it to him? Yes, of course it does, but in the part of his thoughts that isn't constantly rotating around Charles this and Charles that—]
Well, it's got a nice kick. Maybe... a little more garlic?
Ten minutes? Fifteen? As long as it takes for the chicken to be proper cooked.
[ soooo no. no, there's not a real timer. but he is visibly thrilled that junpei is actually taking his time to consider the taste, and gives him feedback — this way he can be sure he'll like the end result. granted, he's... well, confident is perhaps the wrong word, given that he's not made this particular dish in decades, but relatively sure that whatever he makes is edible. it's just that he wants it to be better than that. ]
Sure. Whatever you want.
[ literally whatever... except the canned tomatoes. that's where he draws the line. anyway, he minces some more garlic and mixes it into the curry, and then places the lid on it, turning the heat down so it can just bubble away on its own for a while.
then he just walks round the stove to where junpei is sitting, and wraps his arms around him from behind him, ducking his head to kiss his cheek — partly because he really, really wants to, and partly because it's still a bit surreal to him that he's actually allowed to do this, now. ]
[His boyfriend the fancy chef, wowza. He could watch Charles cook anything; it's almost a shame the glitches seem to have come to an end, if only because of that one day Charles could eat again. Is eating his cooking the next best thing? Maybe! He'll give glowing reviews, he's already decided.
When Charles comes around to hug him Junpei leans back into him automatically with a little laugh. He turns his head to catch Charles in another kiss before he straightens back up, abandoning the bag of chips entirely in favor of doling out more affection. Just catch him if he leans too far back and falls—]
I didn't know I was being graded... Now I've got to fill fifteen minutes, huh?
[Oh no, whatever shall he do.
...Well, what he wants to do is simply lean back cozily in Charles' arms, and since he can, that's what he's doing. It's still new enough to feel too good to be true, an unbelievable turn of events; he actually got the guy? The guy sees something in him worth putting time and effort into? Imagine that.
So maybe,] Stay right there?
[For fifteen whole minutes? Maybe. The whole thing's been a whirlwind, maybe they've earned fifteen minutes of uninterrupted tenderness.]
[ the laugh makes his heart execute a perfect backflip — apparently the change in their relationship status has done nothing to help the way junpei's laughter affects him, every single time. the kiss is a sweet little thing, and charles tightens his arms around junpei a tad, then, to support his weight so he can actually lean against him properly.
he hums in assent at the request, because turns out this is exactly where he wants to be, too; he crouches and tilts his head forward to tuck his face against the crook of junpei's neck, then, breathing in and out for a moment before pressing a light kiss there, before brushing his nose against the line of his neck, up and down again.
as he straightens up, he drops another kiss to junpei's temple, still cradling him in his arms as he says, with a soft kind of awe, ] I don't think I've ever been this happy.
[ it's his turn to laugh lightly, more of a chuckle than anything else — because, really, in hindsight it's somewhat hilarious that it took him so long to understand what he was feeling, especially when he thinks he's been drawn to junpei from the first moment of meeting him. and every single moment they've spent together, no matter the situation, junpei's never once failed to make him feel happy just by being there. ]
Not for nothing, but... you know I've been in love with you since that week, yeah?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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and then you've been the best thing that's ever happened to me hits him with the force of a bloody missile — not least because he can't quite believe he could be the best thing to happen to anybody, but also because this is junpei, who so often chooses actions over words, and to hear him actually say this out loud —
it's staggering, is what it is, and it makes charles have to glance away just for a second to gather his bearings. ]
You — [ no, his voice still sticks in his throat, but he tries his best, tightens his arms around junpei as he looks back at him, ] Sometimes I love you so fucking much I don't know what to do with myself.
[ and that 'sometimes' is not entirely accurate — perhaps 'increasingly often' might work better. still, he smiles, just a bit tremulous, and yet no less adoring than before. ] It's just you, [ he says, because in the end, that is what it all comes down to. ] Of course it's you.
[ it is an echo of what he'd said, back in that dressing room — back when he had been saying this same thing even without knowing it.
and when he bridges the already small distance between them, it's to press one of those chaste, loving kisses against junpei's lips. as he pulls back, he huffs out a slight laugh. ] Right, can't keep kissing you forever on this sidewalk, can I? Should we...
[ he trails off, because he's not entirely sure what to suggest except move — keep walking? he's not really interested in seeing the city, right now. go back home? certainly an appealing idea. get junpei something to eat? probably sensible but also not very romantic — ]
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It's all he can do to slide his hands up to cup Charles' face in both of them, make sure he doesn't look away again, giving him a crooked kind of grin. Doing anything for Charles includes this, right, embracing all of the overwhelming emotions head-on, even when he hardly knows what to do with himself, either. He doesn't say things like the best thing that's ever happened to me for his health, after all.
But he doesn't say anything, simply holds Charles' gaze like that for a few extra moments after they've kissed, before he reaches behind his own back for a hand to hold. Frankly, well,]
Charles, if you ask me, you can do whatever you want. Just saying.
[Buuut okaaaay, they should... go... elsewhere. Plenty of things to do. Probably. He clears his throat and considers the street. Hmm.]
Things look pretty normal here. No reason to hang around.
[—although,]
...Does everyone here seem like they're super pissed off to you?
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Right, [ he says with a little grin, and well, charles would be lying if he tried to say junpei's frank correction and the implicit and explicit permission to kiss him whenever doesn't make him want to do just that, despite just having decided otherwise; he compromises by lifting their joined hands and pressing a kiss to junpei's knuckles instead.
and then the question makes him look around, considering. ] You mean, more than they should be for us blocking the sidewalk for ten minutes? ... Huh. Yeah, guess they do.
[ and that's probably something to look into, because that definitely wasn't a thing before... but does he really care? really, truly? ]
Well, that's different and all if we're not just imagining it, but... being honest? I don't really give a shit. Not right now. [ instead, he fixes junpei with a look. ] When's the last time you actually ate something? Like, an actual meal?
[ because it's been three days and he's having a hard time believing junpei bothered to make anything proper for himself if he spent the entire time worrying. ]
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Ah, and he can't help but grin sheepishly,] Wait, what? Now I'm in trouble?
[Hey hey, what's that look, haha, he totally takes care of himself, he has Eaten... The fact that he has to think about this is telling enough, but listen, it's been a stressful time.]
I had a sandwich, uh, yesterday. That's a meal.
[It's not a meal. And maybe he should be more embarrassed about being called out like this, and he will, honestly, this must be part of their promise to take better care of themselves, but... well! Honestly, he's stuck on the fact that Charles wants to take care of him at all, just like during the gnos event, or when he was drunk... no one has ever wanted to look after him before.
But he will learn to cook whole meals, really, for sure. Starting soon. He holds up his free hand in defeat,] Soooo... it's lunch time, then?
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anyway, pulling back, ]
Yeah. You got anything back at the house? No, [ he corrects himself immediately, ] Probably not what I'd need.
[ and then he seems to realise he's being a little cryptic, and directs a sheepish smile at junpei. ] I'm not a great cook, but I do know some recipes, yeah? Used to help Mum out with chores. One time when her wrist was broken, back when I was twelve, I did all the cooking with her instructions, so I kind of kept helping after that, too. Dad never did much in the kitchen, so...
[ so it was a win-win in his eyes, spending time with his mom while avoiding his dad. and the implications of how his mom's wrist got broken aside, ]
Anyway. You fancy some curry?
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Anyway, he says, faux-indignant,] Hey, I have ingredients, [which they both know he does not. If they're getting ingredients they can start walking again, which Junpei does with a little tug on their hands. This story about Charles' mom is pretty cute, other than...
Well. He can guess. Privately, without bringing it up, because it's the cute part that matters.]
You're gonna cook for me? Only an idiot would turn you down, so yeah, let's curry it up.
[Well, he expects he might just be watching, but even so. Truly only an actual fool would say no to home-cooked meals; Junpei is ready and willing to make googoo eyes at Charles over his kitchen counter for however long it takes to prepare curry. He has no idea.
On the way, though, he'll overtly fish for more cute Charles memories:]
Your mom a good cook?
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Yeah, she's brills. Her chicken curry was the highlight of all the potlucks, you know, my cousins and I would fight over who got the biggest portion. And shit, her baked plum tart? Wish you could taste that... but I don't know the recipe. She only made that on special occasions, and wouldn't let me help with it.
[ he sighs as he stops in front of a store called 8-twelve, which, hm! but he pushes the door open even as he says, ] She loved cooking. Reckon she still does.
[ there's a touch of wistfulness there, enough for him to drop the topic as he starts gathering ingredients, spending the longest time in front of the spice selection. but maybe it explains why he is strangely invested in cooking despite thirty-five years of not needing to do it at all. ]
How about you? What's your favourite dish? [ he tries to sound very innocent, like he's asking just out of curiosity and not so he can just learn how to cook whatever it is... ]
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The secret amazing plum tart...? Damn, now I'm really hungry.
[But really, he just likes to hear Charles talk about his good memories, especially given the rest of what he knows. It's obvious that it's important enough to him that Junpei would probably say yes to anything he wanted to make, just for little moments like this. It helps that curry is delicious, of course...
He has no idea what to do with himself in this store, though, so he just stands there and waits for Charles to pick out his things. Should he have grabbed a basket? He probably should have grabbed a basket. He is nailing this.]
What? Oh, uh, I dunno, really... Don't act too surprised, but I've been living off instant ramen and American fast food back home. [don't judge him. anyway, a Real Dish, hmm,] I guess if I picked something that wasn't cheap crap, then... cold soba is pretty good.
[Guy who only eats noodles and hamburgers voice: "Dish"???]
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at the little offhand comment of him being hungry, charles blinks and nods. ] Right, so we'll get you a snack. It takes a bit to simmer, so...
[ anyway! junpei doesn't need to stand idle for long, because charles starts handing him the things he picks out, one packet of spices after another. and then, ] Hold on a tick, [ he gives junpei's hand a squeeze before letting go and phasing through a few shelves, returning in maybe half a minute with a basket that's somehow half-full of an assorted collection of vegetables and a plastic-wrapped piece of chicken.
as he entwines their hands again, he does, in fact, give junpei a look that's half-flat and half-amused, because instant ramen and fast food, seriously, he hopes it's not been the case here because then he should have been cooking for him months ago.
but oh, an actual answer, ]
Cold soba, huh? Right, sure. I'll look into it. I was already gonna learn how to make a ramen broth or whatever that's called. You're gonna have to taste-test for me, though. Got no idea what the authentic thing tastes like... and it's not like I can taste it myself, can I?
[ he then tries to sort of wave his other hand at their surroundings, except it's holding the basket, and so all he ends up doing is jostling it and nearly tipping it over — he manages to balance it with a sharp snap of his wrist, but not before swearing under his breath. ] Uh, so, pick a snack? Or two. Or ten.
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Thank god he comes back quickly so Junpei can offload this stuff and go back to holding hands, a thing he's really good at.]
You'll need to get all the bones and stuff for good ramen broth, [he says, because he's a ramen critic despite eating 99 cent Bowl Noodles (tm) for years and years. He can help with that one! —Not that he's ever made a broth himself, but he's, you know, looked it up.
Anyway,] Do you want me to hold the basket...? I don't need that many snacks. Just, like, some chips or something.
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and then he glances at the basket he almost upended in the middle of the store and winces. ] No, it's fine. Just pick whatever you want, yeah? And then we can go.
[ they've made it to the last aisle before the cash register, the one with the snacks, and the cashier is ignoring them with an attitude best described as frigid, and, well. when junpei has picked what he wants, and after charles doubles back to grab a few treats for gab, he will hold his smile steadily in place through paying for the groceries, and only lets out a sigh when they finally make it outside again. ]
Jesus. If this is how it's gonna be from now on...
[ he falls silent for a moment as they start walking back to junpei's house. ] You think my landlord's gonna be like this, too?
[ because if so... well. he can handle people he doesn't know disliking him for no reason, but people he's sort of got along with before this? wow, he hates that. ]
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So it's a relief to be back outside and heading home, and hm, it seems like Charles does give a shit about the locals' behavior now, in the exact way that tugs at Junpei's heartstrings.]
Dunno... probably? Maybe they'll all collectively get over it, but I dunno.
[He doesn't have any real personal attachment to the locals himself, but hm, it would be a shame for Charles - what about that old lady, Gia? How many locals is Charles friendly with, anyway...]
You can hang out at my place if it's too awkward at yours.
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but people who he's met before? who he's gotten along with before? who he likes, at least well enough, changing their opinion of him on a dime? that's a little too close to his very real memories of his death, and though he's usually very good at hiding his apprehension, some of it bleeds through into the way he visibly tenses up when junpei says probably, the way his eyes stare at nothing for a second or two before he shakes himself back to the present with a blink.
and then he smiles, because some reflexes are just too ingrained in him to beat. ]
Nah, it's fine. I'm sure it's fine, but thanks. I just — [ he shrugs, ] Well, wouldn't want you to get sick of me, would I?
[ his tone is very light and joking, but he absolutely means it. ]
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He shakes his head and grips Charles' hand tighter. The hurt of being left behind unless it's convenient? That one he knows, so no, absolutely not. When Charles isn't around he spends all his time literally waiting by the phone, even, that was only a day ago...!]
Not gonna happen. Besides, it's... [hmm. how to phrase,] I mean, you don't always have to be on, you know? Not for me. You want to come over and zone out for a while, well, my door's- uh, I guess the mirror, actually- the mirror's always open.
[And he doesn't have a landlord! Tada! His landlordless house comes into view up ahead and Junpei slows them down just a bit; it wouldn't be a huge problem to continue this conversation over curry-making, sure, but it feels better to finish it out here. Let cooking time be nothing but good memories and tasty food, actually.]
You don't have to put up with weird bullshit from anybody, so... if things get too weird, I've got your back. Okay?
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I know you do. [ there's not too many things he's certain of in this place, but that is one of them; even before they spoke of their feelings, charles never once doubted junpei's care for him. ]
But that goes for you, too, yeah? The being on part. I mean, and the part about having your back, but — well, the thing is, I'm used to sharing my space. But you're not, are you? So if you ever feel like you want to be alone, or just... exist quietly in the same room, you let me know. Cause I —
[ the warmth has now migrated to his eyes, too, and the tension has bled out of the line of his shoulders. ] I can't imagine ever not wanting to be around you. So if you'll have me...
[ he shrugs; then it's entirely possible he'll never leave, and he can certainly live with that. ]
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There's a point in there, he's not going to deny it; Charles is right that for one reason or another he is unaccustomed to sharing his space, but Charles also makes it worth it to share, to let him in. More than he already has, all things considered...]
You're so... c'mere. [Junpei nudges the bag of groceries politely out of the way and tugs Charles' hand, leaning in (up) to kiss him, warm and deliberate. What does he say other than "holy shit I love you" a hundred times, give him a second. He lingers there, close, brow knit in a serious thoughtfulness more than anything else, and he comes up with:]
Damn, I really love you. And honestly? I don't want you to leave. [And he does a wiggly kind of shrugging thing with his shoulders, like of course Charles can come and go as he likes, but! It's the saying it that matters! Junpei steps back, reaching blindly for the door as he can't quite take his eyes off Charles until he commits yet another one of his looks to memory.
This is of course until he bonks his hand against the doorknob, swears and shoots it a glare, and alright— now they can head inside, on that prime note of smooth operating.]
—Anyway, so, cooking... I've still got that apron from lunch duty at Richard's camp thing. [wear this apron. do it for love.]
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when junpei tugs on his hand, it is charles' turn to go willingly, and he kisses him back with a soft, content sigh. briefly, he wonders whether they could simply forget about the rest of the world and keep kissing, because every time they do he's reminded of the fact he's wanted it for so long and is now allowed to do it and the fact he's doing something else is an affront, frankly —
except when junpei steps back it's first with a contemplative look and then with words that leave charles' chest expanding with warmth once more, and he knows his smile is small and pleased and embarrassingly besotted... but he can't really bring himself to care. ]
Love you too, [ he says, because he can, and because he does.
and then he's biting down a laugh at the swear and the glare at the poor innocent doorknob, and they can proceed with the whole lunch plan. except — ]
Oh, bloody hell. It was cute on you, but seriously? [ what is he saying. of course seriously. it's the kind of a joke where junpei also means it, and charles stops in the middle of sorting the groceries on the kitchen counter and sighs. ]
Right, sure. Might as well.
[ so what was it about junpei being able to ask him to do anything and he'd do it... ]
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Junpei pauses for a moment there, struck slightly by what a huge departure this moment is from just yesterday—and yet not really all that different, if he really thinks about it. That turns his grin a shade softer, even as he's still visibly finding it hilarious to present Charles with this NO BITCHIN' apron. A token of his many affections, clearly.]
Too easy, it's like you like me or something.
[Ha ha, now duck, so he can toss the apron's neck loop over Charles' head, after which he gives the assortment of ingredients a mildly intimidated look.]
Soooo, knowing what you do about me and cooking, do you want me to help...?
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as he stands up again, he is faced with the apron (which he's still unsure of) and junpei's smile (which is still the loveliest thing he's ever seen, even when it's half at his expense) — and ha, right, the quip makes him roll his eyes... but he does duck his head and then ties the apron behind his back to hold it in place properly. ]
Course I do. [ though he adds, before junpei can be too anxious about this news, ] You're gonna help by keeping me company. Think you can do that?
[ as he reaches for the cutting board and a knife and starts peeling and chopping up vegetables, he can't help but think that all this — them, cooking lunch, gab circling their feet, it's all horribly domestic... and it makes him so, so overwhelmingly happy. ]
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Think I can manage...
[He'll keep Gab from getting too excited about little treats, stooping to nudge the dog away from Charles, mumbling, ("Let him work, come on, you're with me") before simply scooping up the old man and moving to the other side of the kitchen counter.
This really is domestic, isn't it? Junpei has no complaints, but huh! It's a surprise every time, in a way.]
So... tell me what you're doing? Give me the curry play-by-play.
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and he can’t help but feel a little self-conscious at times about whether all this is really all that interesting, but junpei did ask, so... he keeps explaining every step, offering little details about how his mom would make the dish, how she used a specific combination of spices that had been used in the family for generations; little things to fill in the silence between his chopping and stirring.
when the curry is finally simmering under the lid, charles steps back with an exhale. ]
Right, now we just let it be for a tick. Though, hold on, [ he grabs a spoon, lifts the lid and scoops up some of the curry. ]
I can still adjust the flavour, so, taste test it for me, yeah?
[ instead of handing junpei the spoon, he'll just reach over to hold it for him. ]
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How long's "a tick"?
[Surely there's a timer? Is there not a real timer? He's trusting in the process here, given that he wouldn't know any better.
And he rises a little off his seat to lean forward and taste that spoonful without hesitation, considering it with a thoughtful eyebrow wiggle. Does it taste better automatically because Charles fed it to him? Yes, of course it does, but in the part of his thoughts that isn't constantly rotating around Charles this and Charles that—]
Well, it's got a nice kick. Maybe... a little more garlic?
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Ten minutes? Fifteen? As long as it takes for the chicken to be proper cooked.
[ soooo no. no, there's not a real timer. but he is visibly thrilled that junpei is actually taking his time to consider the taste, and gives him feedback — this way he can be sure he'll like the end result. granted, he's... well, confident is perhaps the wrong word, given that he's not made this particular dish in decades, but relatively sure that whatever he makes is edible. it's just that he wants it to be better than that. ]
Sure. Whatever you want.
[ literally whatever... except the canned tomatoes. that's where he draws the line. anyway, he minces some more garlic and mixes it into the curry, and then places the lid on it, turning the heat down so it can just bubble away on its own for a while.
then he just walks round the stove to where junpei is sitting, and wraps his arms around him from behind him, ducking his head to kiss his cheek — partly because he really, really wants to, and partly because it's still a bit surreal to him that he's actually allowed to do this, now. ]
Excellent company so far. Ten out of ten.
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[His boyfriend the fancy chef, wowza. He could watch Charles cook anything; it's almost a shame the glitches seem to have come to an end, if only because of that one day Charles could eat again. Is eating his cooking the next best thing? Maybe! He'll give glowing reviews, he's already decided.
When Charles comes around to hug him Junpei leans back into him automatically with a little laugh. He turns his head to catch Charles in another kiss before he straightens back up, abandoning the bag of chips entirely in favor of doling out more affection. Just catch him if he leans too far back and falls—]
I didn't know I was being graded... Now I've got to fill fifteen minutes, huh?
[Oh no, whatever shall he do.
...Well, what he wants to do is simply lean back cozily in Charles' arms, and since he can, that's what he's doing. It's still new enough to feel too good to be true, an unbelievable turn of events; he actually got the guy? The guy sees something in him worth putting time and effort into? Imagine that.
So maybe,] Stay right there?
[For fifteen whole minutes? Maybe. The whole thing's been a whirlwind, maybe they've earned fifteen minutes of uninterrupted tenderness.]
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he hums in assent at the request, because turns out this is exactly where he wants to be, too; he crouches and tilts his head forward to tuck his face against the crook of junpei's neck, then, breathing in and out for a moment before pressing a light kiss there, before brushing his nose against the line of his neck, up and down again.
as he straightens up, he drops another kiss to junpei's temple, still cradling him in his arms as he says, with a soft kind of awe, ] I don't think I've ever been this happy.
[ it's his turn to laugh lightly, more of a chuckle than anything else — because, really, in hindsight it's somewhat hilarious that it took him so long to understand what he was feeling, especially when he thinks he's been drawn to junpei from the first moment of meeting him. and every single moment they've spent together, no matter the situation, junpei's never once failed to make him feel happy just by being there. ]
Not for nothing, but... you know I've been in love with you since that week, yeah?
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