[Whoops, here comes their waitress with that sake Rosso wanted, and some... really bizarre flat cups? Why are they so small? Whatever. He nods appreciatively at her, offering a thin, forced smile to be polite, and the second she's gone again?]
—I'm adventurous, but you're fucking lying through your teeth, cause octopi don't have nuts. End of fucking story. Your takowhatsits are probably other octopus parts.
[Anyway, Rosso's not waiting on the sake. He pours his portion of the bottle into his emptied water glass from earlier and takes a swig. We don't do that slow sipping thing here and by the El that's strong—]
cw: nsfw, this is just gonna be balls talk I GUESS
[Adrian isn't going to keep arguing, mostly because he knows that when the Takoyaki does come by and he sees how Adrian is very much enjoying it, he'll have a hard time resisting trying some too. He doesn't have to know that they are, indeed, just various octopus parts and not actual balls.
I mean, they're balls. But not, you know.
He has no eyebrows with which to emote, but that doesn't stop him from looking mildly surprised as he watches Rosso just pour himself a glass of the sake he ordered, but...unfortunately for both of them, Adrian doesn't know what sake is and therefore isn't prepared for how strong it's going to be.
He's ONLY spared by the fact he didn't drink his water yet, which means he's forced to use the little cups. A good thing too, because that stuff could strip paint he's pretty sure.]
You know people eat animal testicles all the time, right? It's not an unusual thing.
just cw the whole fucking thread for these two idiots
Yeah, 'course I know that much, [he responds, a little calmer now, with a little more of that inside voice he's usually lacking,] just doesn't sound that appealing to me. If I wanted balls in my mouth I'd just go get in bed with someone.
[And here is where he takes the largest sip of sake, not caring how much it burns, because holy shit he sounds like Ventus and holy shit he said that out loud. It's not like he knows what he's fucking doing in regard to that anyway, so he very quickly backtracks and tries to pretend he didn't just blurt that out.]
Sort of in the same way raw red meat with a whole-ass egg on top isn't appealing to me either. Just sounds fuckin' gross overall.
Well duh. Raw meat like that does sound nasty. But when did I ever say it was raw?
[And with impeccable timing, the waitress brings out their appetizer: six perfectly formed takoyaki balls, each one very clearly cooked dough with takoyaki sauce, mayonnaise, bonito, and seaweed for garnish. It makes Adrian wish he were a Manticore again, because he'd just start eating them now and not worry about if they burnt his tongue or not. He figures he ought to be a little more careful as a Mer, though...
So he'll pick up his set of chopsticks (which he ALSO knows how to use now thanks to how many damn times he's gotten ramen in the past) to pluck one from the plate, holding it aloft so he can blow on it and bring it down from internal lava temperature a bit.]
[Ah... when did that happen? Rosso mixed their two conversations to his detriment, it seems. And Adrian, of course, looks smug as hell about it.
Rosso kicks Adrian's shin under the table. Take that. Except it's not really a kick, it's more of a playful nudge, but he'll look angry about it anyway.
And here's the thing. Rosso... does not know how to use chopsticks, although he reaches for his anyway and unsubtly tries to mimic how Adrian's holding his. He's pretty sure he's got it after a minute. Pretty sure.]
No, fuck you, I'm tryin' it.
[If Adrian's going to goad him, Rosso's trying the fucking food! Fuck you!!
...
Except chopsticks and Rosso are not friends, because he tries to grab the little dough ball and it falls back into its slot on the tray without making it barely a half-inch above it. He tries again with similar results and then, frustrated, simply jabs both chopsticks into the food. Only then does the takoyaki stay long enough for Rosso to plop it right into his mouth.
[The kick does nothing but make Adrian grin even wider, his shit eatery knowing no bounds, despite his face being what it is right now. He rests an arm across the table as he watches, bemused, while Rosso struggles with his chopsticks. He could help him, but how is he ever supposed to learn that way?
...well not at all apparently, since he just ends up stabbing the takoyaki instead. It works, he guesses, but he'd better not let anyone else here seeing him eating them like that.]
What'd I tell ya? Dont knock octopus balls until you've tried octopus balls.
Shut up. They're shaped like balls but they ain't fuckin' balls.
[Rosso is insistent, okay, there are no such thing as octopus balls in this essay he will—
And clearly there's nothing wrong with how he's using the chopsticks if it's working as intended. The food is on the stick. The food is going into his mouth. Rosso has never been wrong in his life, who cares how he's eating? Who cares if people are looking over at them from other tables and wondering what's wrong with him?
Imagine looking over and seeing someone dressed so fancy at this nice-ass restaurant with food so expensive that the average man pales just glancing at the prices, thinking that he's normal and wealthy like everyone else here, and then he pours all of the sake into his glass and chugs it and starts shanking takoyaki with sticks. What do you even say to that? Who's gonna tell him no?
One absolutely not-sip of sake later, Rosso's plopping another takoyaki into his mouth via the sheer power of violence, which finishes off his portion of the appetizer.]
[Sure, sure, it's working as intended alright. It's absolutely hysterical for Adrian to watch, especially since he struggled the exact same way. Hell, he had to just eat shit with his face in a bowl half the time anyway because he couldn't figure out how to eat with a muzzle. As a crocodile, he doesn't chew so much as he just swallows things whole, but that doesn't mean he can't still taste it and use his chopsticks like a normal person. It's a little tricky with webbed fingers, but he's pretty sure even the chopstick snobs out there would forgive him for that much.
He huffs a laugh as he watches Rosso's antics, polishing off his takoyaki with a much more reasonable amount of sake following it. Also because he kindof has to just pour the entire cup into his mouth at once, so. Let's not pour a whole glass worth in there at once, maybe.]
God, you're so dumb.
[Said with all of the fondness one might say "God, I love you"]
[Ew. Fondness. Something in that tone makes Rosso's heart thud in his chest, even though his words are clearly an insult. A playful, fond insult. Ugh ugh ugh ugh— why didn't he just say it was a date?
He sets his chopsticks down against the edge of the tray after licking them clean like an animal.]
Fuck's that for? [A beat, then:] Only thing you got a leg up on me about is using chopsticks.
[And remembering to sip sake, let's not forget about the part where Adrian knows how to SIP.
It's not long until the actual meal arrives, though — colourfully-arranged rolls, a heap of pickled ginger the size of a baseball, and a not-so-generous amount of wasabi placed before them on a serving dish shaped like a Viking vessel. It's cute. And probably a pain in the ass to wash. Several flowers adorn the display, questionably-edible, and Rosso picks at them while the server explains what each roll is.
Honestly, he doesn't listen. It's food. Food which he shanks, again, as soon as the employee leaves. Somehow, that particular slice of the roll doesn't immediately crumble, but, uh, call it dumb luck. The others are liable to fall apart if they keep being brutalized.]
[It's funny on one hand, almost a bit hard to watch on the other. Like, Adrian isn't a guy who cares overmuch about what other people think, so he's hard to embarrass really. He just gets pissy, if anything. But the way Rosso is attacking the sushi like a wild animal when everyone else is...being normal about it is definitely standing out. He could always pick it up with his hands, as some sushi is made for, but neither of them ordered any nigiri. Not that Adrian would even know about that to have saved Rosso the trouble, anyway.]
Oi. You're gonna shred it doin' that.
[And since it's like, mostly rice...the moment it all falls apart is when you have to shamefully ask a waitress for a fork, and that might be worse than watching Rosso stab the sushi with his chopsticks.]
You know how to hold a pen, right?
[He puts his elbow on the table, holding his hand up to show that he's holding one chopstick like that.]
Hold one like this, and stick the other under it by your thumb. The bottom one don't move, just use the top half to grip shit.
[Rosso usually stands out for being-loud reasons, so makes sense. He's completely oblivious to his own presence right now, only stopping before reaching for the next piece by Adrian actually being corrective of his bullshit.
And, honestly, were it anyone else, Rosso would just stir up further problems — his usual penchant to start fights and all overrides all senses — but for once, he's actually listening, and... you know. Trying. Trying to mimic what Adrian's doing without making some poor attempt at being sneaky about it. Maybe it says something about the nebulous state of their relationship that Rosso's actually listening.
It's gonna take more than just that to help him get it — practice makes perfect and all — but at least he's, y'know, trying. For once. Surely all the rich snobs nearby are now happy with the crocodile-man for teaching a betta fish how to use the fancy sticks. Now they no longer have to look on in absolute horror. Probably.]
Where'd you learn how to do this, anyway?
[Said like it's rocket science while he... makes an attempt to pick up sushi. Again.]
[When he started becoming a regular at that little hole-in-the-wall ramen place he took Kaito to that one time, he realized pretty quickly that he was the only one there who didn't know what he was supposed to be doing. And for a long while, he didn't even bother with them. He'd just eat straight from the bowl like an animal, because what else could he do? Then his frustration overcame his pride, so he'd asked for a fork. And then later still...he finally decided to try chopsticks.
Now he's here. Not perfect at using them, but he's figured out how to do it in a way that works for him. It's much easier with these hands than with his paws, he has to admit.]
I usually just eat soup with 'em though. And octopus balls.
[Rosso please why is everything an argument with you—
Here he is trying to pick up sushi again, and... he gets it this time, please congratulate him, except for the fact that before it reaches his mouth it winds up falling into his palm that he has braced over the roll because he knew, okay. He knew this would happen. Unbothered, he simply brings his palm up to his open mouth and eats it like that. What else is he gonna do?]
Remind me to take you to that ramen place I like. You’d get it then.
[Sorry Rosso you’re going to learn chopsticks whether you like it or not!!
Adrian has mowed through nearly an entire roll by now, tossing the pieces into his mouth to snap back whole. He exhales on a gurgling sound, low and thoughtful, as he watches Rosso continuing to struggle with his own chopsticks, meanwhile.
He sighs as Rosso eats the one out of his hand, readjusting his own chopsticks between his fingers. Without preamble, he reaches across the table and yoinks one of Rosso’s sushi pieces.
Instead of popping it into his own mouth, however, he holds it up towards Rosso.]
[Not a child or something like that. Not gonna do that. He wants to protest, especially when he feels the heat rising to his cheeks and his only thought is to make a stink about it, fuck you fuck you fuck you, but alas. The fire dies as quick as it came, and with slight hesitation on his part, he leans forward across the table to take the offered bite.
This is, you know, easier than doing it himself from a logistical standpoint. From a flustered standpoint, uh... Well. This isn't easier at all! If his face is still red (it is) it's because the sushi is spicy, shut up shut up shut up—]
[Good boy. Now just don’t think about how it’s an indirect kiss since Adrian fed you with his own chopsticks (that are never touching his mouth because he has no lips right now but shhhh).
Adrian clicks his tongue, and before sitting back he snatches another piece off Rosso’s plate, this time actually eating it.]
[Don't "good boy" him on this not-date, he'll die!!!]
Yeah, yeah, brat.
[You know, Rosso would be a gremlin and steal one of Adrian's if he weren't, you know, struggling to hold chopsticks (and also struggling to Exist). Since being a little shit is out of the question, he huffs and goes back to trying to eat like an Adult without Help.
It goes, well, as expected. Some pieces stay on the chopsticks, some wind up narrowly avoiding falling to a table-y death. It's a work in process. Just like not getting flustered at everything Adrian does is also... that.
Ugh ugh ugh.
At the very least, dinner is enjoyable. And since Rosso's not a werewolf, he can't pick up on the whispers from other tables about "the odd couple clearly on their first date" and "one of them is wearing crocs". Little blessings. Otherwise he'd probably start a fight.
As you do.
Now, comes the very exciting moment of truth when the staff brings the bill to them, with the patient note to "take your time, we hope you enjoyed your meal" yadda yadda. Rosso's expecting it to be expensive, at least, so when he snatches it off of the table, he doesn't completely go pale. That's about... the amount of money he was expecting to fork over.
It's so much money.
Man, where's the Elrian Kingdom to pay for everything he wants when he needs 'em?]
Despite it all, Adrian approves of Rosso’s choice of restaurant, even if he’s not sure the ridiculously high price is entirely justified. Food was good, yeah, but was it sell your soul good? Nah. That’s reserved for Mom’s chili. What are they paying for, the atmosphere?
He’s completely cleaned his plate by the time their check comes, his eyes rolling over to watch Rosso as he takes it. He knows it’s a lot, and Rosso said he’d pay for it, but…
[Comically, Rosso's still finishing the last bits of his own food when the cheque comes, so he has to do that "okthankyouverymuch" mutter with food stuffed into his cheek like a squirrel.
Then, while he's signing off on the cheque proper and thanking the staff mentally So Much for including the price with tip at the bottom of the receipt so he doesn't have to do math, he takes his last bite. That's, coincidentally, the moment when Adrian speaks up, which causes a Whole-Ass Moment™ in Rosso's brain.
Swallowing quickly and glancing up from where he's signing his name on the line, he blurts out,]
Next time—
[It's not like it's that unusual. Friends go out for dinner all the time, it's not weird. What's causing a glitch in the mainframe right now is the fact that Adrian just declares that without realising that the original intent had been a date. Which.
It's not a date. It's not! This isn't a date so this doesn't count, the one-two-three pattern that Rose Quartz identified for him online doesn't apply here. Yet here he is, excited by the prospect of Dinner Two anyway. Not because it's a date but because it's more time to— to just— spend with him.
As if they haven't spent every day together so far, after he died and Rosso wanted to watch over him. Nothing's happened. No one's gotten hurt. The week's up, and he could just let Adrian go back to being Rosso-less and only pop in for some visits sometime... ugh, but the greedy part of him wants to cling.
And none of that matters right now because here he is, folding the leather cheque holder up and letting it slap against the table with a dull thud, clearing his throat like he's perfectly Normal and Not Gay.]
Adrian definitely isn't thinking at all when he says it. It just...makes sense they'd do this again, right? It's not like Rosso's the only person he's ever gone to a place with before, even if this is...undoubtedly the fanciest. Like holy shit, he still feels like he's sticking out like a sore thumb.
So when Rosso complains about Adrian outclassing him, he scoffs as he pushes his way out of their booth (with a little difficulty, because fat crocodile ass).]
Oh, there is no fucking way I'm going to somewhere this expensive again. We'll go to someplace more affordable, and it'll taste just as good, if not better. Bet on it.
[As Rosso's crawling out of the booth to follow after, he mulls over that for a second. Yeah, this place was way too much fucking money. Rosso's never doing this again. No nice meals, only whatever he can cobble together and/or reasonably-priced restaurants.
When they pass by the front, the woman manning it waves at them. One set of "have a good night" and "thanks you too", and they're out in the cold again, city lights flickering against a moonlit night. Tiny snowflakes fall from the sky in long intervals, certainly not enough to accumulate on the wet sidewalks, most of them melting the second they touch Rosso's bare shoulders or the top of his head.
It's a long walk back. And it seems like they came at a good time, too, because now that it's darker, the line for the restaurant really is out the front door.
A minute passes before he speaks up again.]
Bet. [And then, quietly:] You wouldn't even go to a place that pricey again if it were a date?
[They'd been out of the place for long enough that Adrian had almost forgotten he'd said anything else. So, when Rosso speaks up again through the silence, he lifts his head a fraction.]
Huh?
[What did he say? Because no, sorry Rosso, since you're the only thing he can hear within earshot he absolutely heard you say something just then.
That's...
He keeps looking straight ahead, opening and closing his jaws a few times.]
Food was good, though. [Quick act cool, act like you didn't just say that, don't act like he's interested in you as you walk back to Merain you look like an idiot Rosso.] Guess you'd better uphold your end of the bet, or I'm not trusting you to pick a dinner spot again.
[If he simply acts normal, he can't make this awkward, like on the day he kissed Adrian's cheek or that day they reunited and he said some gay shit and swam off immediately. No worries, they can just continue to pick on each other ad infinitum and it'll be fine. That'll be that.
He's your closest friend, you really wanna fuck this up? Like you fuck everything else up?
Yep brain that's the point of dating, thanks for that.
[Even if he swallowed all of it whole. Like, the taste was worth the price. Everything else though......debatable.
He grimaces a little as they walk, because snow is once more filling his stupid crocs. Maybe these weren't the best purchase he's ever made, but he is committed to wearing them now. He hasn't bought another pair of shoes since arriving because he just had stopped wearing them anyway, so.]
You'll be eatin' those words once you try that place. Can't wait to see the look on your face when you see how right I am.
[That place has ramen so spicy it will make you want to die, of COURSE Rosso would like it.
Anyway, tease as a self defense mechanism, because boy why do their conversations keep lapsing into feeling so.............awkward? He doesn't know, but he's not sure he likes how often it happens these days.]
[It sounds like it, to Rosso. Which is good to know, he supposes, for when they have not-a-date number two. He probably doesn't need to dress as nicely for that.
Not like he should've dressed up this nicely in the first place for their current(ly ending) not-date — the staff let Adrian in just fine, and he's just wearing run of the mill clothing and crocs. Rosso has yet to figure out how atrocious they are, still, unlike Adrian who is now contending with snow on his feet.
Rosso... Who is currently eating his feelings, as always, is also starting to realise it's a lot colder than it was when they left. He can see his breath as they walk, and he's reminded distantly of how back in the day, he used to be able to exhale rings of fire — back when he could control his fire, anyway. It's a useless memory, even more useless as a story, and after a few exhales when he realises he can't get the same result with just his breath, he huffs.
And then, bravely, and totally Only because it's cold, he nestles up into Adrian's side as they walk.
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no subject
[Whoops, here comes their waitress with that sake Rosso wanted, and some... really bizarre flat cups? Why are they so small? Whatever. He nods appreciatively at her, offering a thin, forced smile to be polite, and the second she's gone again?]
—I'm adventurous, but you're fucking lying through your teeth, cause octopi don't have nuts. End of fucking story. Your takowhatsits are probably other octopus parts.
[Anyway, Rosso's not waiting on the sake. He pours his portion of the bottle into his emptied water glass from earlier and takes a swig. We don't do that slow sipping thing here and by the El that's strong—]
cw: nsfw, this is just gonna be balls talk I GUESS
[Adrian isn't going to keep arguing, mostly because he knows that when the Takoyaki does come by and he sees how Adrian is very much enjoying it, he'll have a hard time resisting trying some too. He doesn't have to know that they are, indeed, just various octopus parts and not actual balls.
I mean, they're balls. But not, you know.
He has no eyebrows with which to emote, but that doesn't stop him from looking mildly surprised as he watches Rosso just pour himself a glass of the sake he ordered, but...unfortunately for both of them, Adrian doesn't know what sake is and therefore isn't prepared for how strong it's going to be.
He's ONLY spared by the fact he didn't drink his water yet, which means he's forced to use the little cups. A good thing too, because that stuff could strip paint he's pretty sure.]
You know people eat animal testicles all the time, right? It's not an unusual thing.
just cw the whole fucking thread for these two idiots
[And here is where he takes the largest sip of sake, not caring how much it burns, because holy shit he sounds like Ventus and holy shit he said that out loud. It's not like he knows what he's fucking doing in regard to that anyway, so he very quickly backtracks and tries to pretend he didn't just blurt that out.]
Sort of in the same way raw red meat with a whole-ass egg on top isn't appealing to me either. Just sounds fuckin' gross overall.
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[And with impeccable timing, the waitress brings out their appetizer: six perfectly formed takoyaki balls, each one very clearly cooked dough with takoyaki sauce, mayonnaise, bonito, and seaweed for garnish. It makes Adrian wish he were a Manticore again, because he'd just start eating them now and not worry about if they burnt his tongue or not. He figures he ought to be a little more careful as a Mer, though...
So he'll pick up his set of chopsticks (which he ALSO knows how to use now thanks to how many damn times he's gotten ramen in the past) to pluck one from the plate, holding it aloft so he can blow on it and bring it down from internal lava temperature a bit.]
Speak of the devil. You still ain't gonna try it?
no subject
Rosso kicks Adrian's shin under the table. Take that. Except it's not really a kick, it's more of a playful nudge, but he'll look angry about it anyway.
And here's the thing. Rosso... does not know how to use chopsticks, although he reaches for his anyway and unsubtly tries to mimic how Adrian's holding his. He's pretty sure he's got it after a minute. Pretty sure.]
No, fuck you, I'm tryin' it.
[If Adrian's going to goad him, Rosso's trying the fucking food! Fuck you!!
...
Except chopsticks and Rosso are not friends, because he tries to grab the little dough ball and it falls back into its slot on the tray without making it barely a half-inch above it. He tries again with similar results and then, frustrated, simply jabs both chopsticks into the food. Only then does the takoyaki stay long enough for Rosso to plop it right into his mouth.
One contemplative moment later...]
...huh. That's good.
no subject
...well not at all apparently, since he just ends up stabbing the takoyaki instead. It works, he guesses, but he'd better not let anyone else here seeing him eating them like that.]
What'd I tell ya? Dont knock octopus balls until you've tried octopus balls.
no subject
[Rosso is insistent, okay, there are no such thing as octopus balls in this essay he will—
And clearly there's nothing wrong with how he's using the chopsticks if it's working as intended. The food is on the stick. The food is going into his mouth. Rosso has never been wrong in his life, who cares how he's eating? Who cares if people are looking over at them from other tables and wondering what's wrong with him?
Imagine looking over and seeing someone dressed so fancy at this nice-ass restaurant with food so expensive that the average man pales just glancing at the prices, thinking that he's normal and wealthy like everyone else here, and then he pours all of the sake into his glass and chugs it and starts shanking takoyaki with sticks. What do you even say to that? Who's gonna tell him no?
One absolutely not-sip of sake later, Rosso's plopping another takoyaki into his mouth via the sheer power of violence, which finishes off his portion of the appetizer.]
no subject
He huffs a laugh as he watches Rosso's antics, polishing off his takoyaki with a much more reasonable amount of sake following it. Also because he kindof has to just pour the entire cup into his mouth at once, so. Let's not pour a whole glass worth in there at once, maybe.]
God, you're so dumb.
[Said with all of the fondness one might say "God, I love you"]
no subject
He sets his chopsticks down against the edge of the tray after licking them clean like an animal.]
Fuck's that for? [A beat, then:] Only thing you got a leg up on me about is using chopsticks.
[And remembering to sip sake, let's not forget about the part where Adrian knows how to SIP.
It's not long until the actual meal arrives, though — colourfully-arranged rolls, a heap of pickled ginger the size of a baseball, and a not-so-generous amount of wasabi placed before them on a serving dish shaped like a Viking vessel. It's cute. And probably a pain in the ass to wash. Several flowers adorn the display, questionably-edible, and Rosso picks at them while the server explains what each roll is.
Honestly, he doesn't listen. It's food. Food which he shanks, again, as soon as the employee leaves. Somehow, that particular slice of the roll doesn't immediately crumble, but, uh, call it dumb luck. The others are liable to fall apart if they keep being brutalized.]
no subject
Oi. You're gonna shred it doin' that.
[And since it's like, mostly rice...the moment it all falls apart is when you have to shamefully ask a waitress for a fork, and that might be worse than watching Rosso stab the sushi with his chopsticks.]
You know how to hold a pen, right?
[He puts his elbow on the table, holding his hand up to show that he's holding one chopstick like that.]
Hold one like this, and stick the other under it by your thumb. The bottom one don't move, just use the top half to grip shit.
no subject
And, honestly, were it anyone else, Rosso would just stir up further problems — his usual penchant to start fights and all overrides all senses — but for once, he's actually listening, and... you know. Trying. Trying to mimic what Adrian's doing without making some poor attempt at being sneaky about it. Maybe it says something about the nebulous state of their relationship that Rosso's actually listening.
It's gonna take more than just that to help him get it — practice makes perfect and all — but at least he's, y'know, trying. For once. Surely all the rich snobs nearby are now happy with the crocodile-man for teaching a betta fish how to use the fancy sticks. Now they no longer have to look on in absolute horror. Probably.]
Where'd you learn how to do this, anyway?
[Said like it's rocket science while he... makes an attempt to pick up sushi. Again.]
no subject
[When he started becoming a regular at that little hole-in-the-wall ramen place he took Kaito to that one time, he realized pretty quickly that he was the only one there who didn't know what he was supposed to be doing. And for a long while, he didn't even bother with them. He'd just eat straight from the bowl like an animal, because what else could he do? Then his frustration overcame his pride, so he'd asked for a fork. And then later still...he finally decided to try chopsticks.
Now he's here. Not perfect at using them, but he's figured out how to do it in a way that works for him. It's much easier with these hands than with his paws, he has to admit.]
I usually just eat soup with 'em though. And octopus balls.
no subject
[Rosso please why is everything an argument with you—
Here he is trying to pick up sushi again, and... he gets it this time, please congratulate him, except for the fact that before it reaches his mouth it winds up falling into his palm that he has braced over the roll because he knew, okay. He knew this would happen. Unbothered, he simply brings his palm up to his open mouth and eats it like that. What else is he gonna do?]
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[Sorry Rosso you’re going to learn chopsticks whether you like it or not!!
Adrian has mowed through nearly an entire roll by now, tossing the pieces into his mouth to snap back whole. He exhales on a gurgling sound, low and thoughtful, as he watches Rosso continuing to struggle with his own chopsticks, meanwhile.
He sighs as Rosso eats the one out of his hand, readjusting his own chopsticks between his fingers. Without preamble, he reaches across the table and yoinks one of Rosso’s sushi pieces.
Instead of popping it into his own mouth, however, he holds it up towards Rosso.]
C’mon, open up.
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I'm not—
[Not a child or something like that. Not gonna do that. He wants to protest, especially when he feels the heat rising to his cheeks and his only thought is to make a stink about it, fuck you fuck you fuck you, but alas. The fire dies as quick as it came, and with slight hesitation on his part, he leans forward across the table to take the offered bite.
This is, you know, easier than doing it himself from a logistical standpoint. From a flustered standpoint, uh... Well. This isn't easier at all! If his face is still red (it is) it's because the sushi is spicy, shut up shut up shut up—]
...thanks.
[Kill him he's going into cardiac arrest]
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Adrian clicks his tongue, and before sitting back he snatches another piece off Rosso’s plate, this time actually eating it.]
And that’s payment for my services.
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Yeah, yeah, brat.
[You know, Rosso would be a gremlin and steal one of Adrian's if he weren't, you know, struggling to hold chopsticks (and also struggling to Exist). Since being a little shit is out of the question, he huffs and goes back to trying to eat like an Adult without Help.
It goes, well, as expected. Some pieces stay on the chopsticks, some wind up narrowly avoiding falling to a table-y death. It's a work in process. Just like not getting flustered at everything Adrian does is also... that.
Ugh ugh ugh.
At the very least, dinner is enjoyable. And since Rosso's not a werewolf, he can't pick up on the whispers from other tables about "the odd couple clearly on their first date" and "one of them is wearing crocs". Little blessings. Otherwise he'd probably start a fight.
As you do.
Now, comes the very exciting moment of truth when the staff brings the bill to them, with the patient note to "take your time, we hope you enjoyed your meal" yadda yadda. Rosso's expecting it to be expensive, at least, so when he snatches it off of the table, he doesn't completely go pale. That's about... the amount of money he was expecting to fork over.
It's so much money.
Man, where's the Elrian Kingdom to pay for everything he wants when he needs 'em?]
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Despite it all, Adrian approves of Rosso’s choice of restaurant, even if he’s not sure the ridiculously high price is entirely justified. Food was good, yeah, but was it sell your soul good? Nah. That’s reserved for Mom’s chili. What are they paying for, the atmosphere?
He’s completely cleaned his plate by the time their check comes, his eyes rolling over to watch Rosso as he takes it. He knows it’s a lot, and Rosso said he’d pay for it, but…
Ugh.]
Dinner’s on me, next time.
[…
Wait next time]
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Then, while he's signing off on the cheque proper and thanking the staff mentally So Much for including the price with tip at the bottom of the receipt so he doesn't have to do math, he takes his last bite. That's, coincidentally, the moment when Adrian speaks up, which causes a Whole-Ass Moment™ in Rosso's brain.
Swallowing quickly and glancing up from where he's signing his name on the line, he blurts out,]
Next time—
[It's not like it's that unusual. Friends go out for dinner all the time, it's not weird. What's causing a glitch in the mainframe right now is the fact that Adrian just declares that without realising that the original intent had been a date. Which.
It's not a date. It's not! This isn't a date so this doesn't count, the one-two-three pattern that Rose Quartz identified for him online doesn't apply here. Yet here he is, excited by the prospect of Dinner Two anyway. Not because it's a date but because it's more time to— to just— spend with him.
As if they haven't spent every day together so far, after he died and Rosso wanted to watch over him. Nothing's happened. No one's gotten hurt. The week's up, and he could just let Adrian go back to being Rosso-less and only pop in for some visits sometime... ugh, but the greedy part of him wants to cling.
And none of that matters right now because here he is, folding the leather cheque holder up and letting it slap against the table with a dull thud, clearing his throat like he's perfectly Normal and Not Gay.]
...well. Try not to outclass me, jagi. Let's go.
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Adrian definitely isn't thinking at all when he says it. It just...makes sense they'd do this again, right? It's not like Rosso's the only person he's ever gone to a place with before, even if this is...undoubtedly the fanciest. Like holy shit, he still feels like he's sticking out like a sore thumb.
So when Rosso complains about Adrian outclassing him, he scoffs as he pushes his way out of their booth (with a little difficulty, because fat crocodile ass).]
Oh, there is no fucking way I'm going to somewhere this expensive again. We'll go to someplace more affordable, and it'll taste just as good, if not better. Bet on it.
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When they pass by the front, the woman manning it waves at them. One set of "have a good night" and "thanks you too", and they're out in the cold again, city lights flickering against a moonlit night. Tiny snowflakes fall from the sky in long intervals, certainly not enough to accumulate on the wet sidewalks, most of them melting the second they touch Rosso's bare shoulders or the top of his head.
It's a long walk back. And it seems like they came at a good time, too, because now that it's darker, the line for the restaurant really is out the front door.
A minute passes before he speaks up again.]
Bet. [And then, quietly:] You wouldn't even go to a place that pricey again if it were a date?
[
oh boy he hopes Adrian didn't hear that.]
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Huh?
[What did he say? Because no, sorry Rosso, since you're the only thing he can hear within earshot he absolutely heard you say something just then.
That's...
He keeps looking straight ahead, opening and closing his jaws a few times.]
I mean...I guess. Maybe. If I saved up for it...
[...]
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Food was good, though. [Quick act cool, act like you didn't just say that, don't act like he's interested in you as you walk back to Merain you look like an idiot Rosso.] Guess you'd better uphold your end of the bet, or I'm not trusting you to pick a dinner spot again.
[If he simply acts normal, he can't make this awkward, like on the day he kissed Adrian's cheek or that day they reunited and he said some gay shit and swam off immediately. No worries, they can just continue to pick on each other ad infinitum and it'll be fine. That'll be that.
He's your closest friend, you really wanna fuck this up? Like you fuck everything else up?
Yep brain that's the point of dating, thanks for that.
On they trudge.]
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[Even if he swallowed all of it whole. Like, the taste was worth the price. Everything else though......debatable.
He grimaces a little as they walk, because snow is once more filling his stupid crocs. Maybe these weren't the best purchase he's ever made, but he is committed to wearing them now. He hasn't bought another pair of shoes since arriving because he just had stopped wearing them anyway, so.]
You'll be eatin' those words once you try that place. Can't wait to see the look on your face when you see how right I am.
[That place has ramen so spicy it will make you want to die, of COURSE Rosso would like it.
Anyway, tease as a self defense mechanism, because boy why do their conversations keep lapsing into feeling so.............awkward? He doesn't know, but he's not sure he likes how often it happens these days.]
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[It sounds like it, to Rosso. Which is good to know, he supposes, for when they have not-a-date number two. He probably doesn't need to dress as nicely for that.
Not like he should've dressed up this nicely in the first place for their current(ly ending) not-date — the staff let Adrian in just fine, and he's just wearing run of the mill clothing and crocs. Rosso has yet to figure out how atrocious they are, still, unlike Adrian who is now contending with snow on his feet.
Rosso... Who is currently eating his feelings, as always, is also starting to realise it's a lot colder than it was when they left. He can see his breath as they walk, and he's reminded distantly of how back in the day, he used to be able to exhale rings of fire — back when he could control his fire, anyway. It's a useless memory, even more useless as a story, and after a few exhales when he realises he can't get the same result with just his breath, he huffs.
And then, bravely, and totally Only because it's cold, he nestles up into Adrian's side as they walk.
Normal. Heterosexual.]
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im sorry this is probably meant to be encouraging, or something, but adrian is stupid-
Rosso's not encouraged but he sure is gay
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