misura
in
springkink
Antique Bakery (Ono/Chikage)
Title: - (untitled)
Author: misura
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: It would, Ono thought, be child's play. Except that, of course, neither he nor Chikage were children anymore.
At some point in his life, Ono knew, he'd stopped thinking of 'games' and 'playing' as things that he'd done as a kid, involving such things as picking teams (he'd always wanted to be in Tachibana's, even if Tachibana snapped and snarled at anyone whom he felt wasn't making enough of an effort to win) and being good at sports (Ono'd never been very strong, but he was fairly fast and smart enough to know that when Tachibana yelled 'To the right, you moron!' he was not, in fact, supposed to keep on running to the left).
He'd left them behind, along with the illusion that his mother was ... something she wasn't, and if Ono was honest with himself (something he avoided arduously and skillfully), he'd never really missed them much.
Ono preferred to think that, really, it was because of Tachibana - he'd been there for a significant part of Ono's youth (a few years /was/ significant) and Ono had developped that embarrassing crush on him, and then Tachibana's crude and cruel rejection had put an end to Ono's innocent, happy and carefree youth. Or something like that. There'd been a few months during which Ono had really, really wanted to hate Tachibana, and blaming him for ruining Ono's childhood-memories had seemed as good an idea as any, and definitely easier to do than taking some sort of revenge by making Tachibana fall in love with him and then reject him as coldly and insultingly as Tachibana had rejected /him/. (The obvious flaw in that plan being that if Ono had been able to seduce Tachibana, he'd have done so already.)
And then Ono'd met Chikage, the 'possibly-and-quite-likely-not-gay-although-he-might-be-right?' of angelic and innocent charm, and he'd danced in the rain without taking his clothes of (or even being a little drunk). Chikage'd brought him flowers and asked him to go and drink a cup of coffee, and Ono felt that, really, something beautiful might have bloomed between the two of them, if only ...
Yes. Well. Eventually, everything had worked out more or less fine, and as a result, Ono now lived in constant terror of 1) Tachibana regaining his senses and killing him or 2) Chikage trying to make breakfast and killing him. Ono wondered when Kanda would start to reveal his dangerous side to him.
Of course, there were compensations - not quite of the sort that Ono had initially expected, after finding Chikage on his doorstep, luggage in one hand and a map to Ono's house in the other, but he'd comforted himself with the thought that anticipation was fun, too, and novel, and something different from what he usual got from his dates (inasfar as someone sharing your apartment and sleeping on the couch could be considered a 'date'). Never before had Ono enjoyed the sight of someone wearing only a towel while needing to use his imagination to provide him with the details of what was hidden under said towel. He usually knew already by the time he let people use his bathroom.
The danger-of-death-by-kitchen-disasters was a pity, but Ono suddenly recalled that he'd developed a taste for breakfast-cereals during his time in France, and that now was as good a time as any to start breakfasting with such simple fare again. Chikage declared he loved anything Ono loved (if only that were true!) and enthusiastically (if clumsily) dedicated himself to learning how to prepare cereals, which resulted in a few broken bowls, a lot of spilt milk and a considerable amount of soggy cereals which Ono forced down his throat smiling, imagining what Chikage looked like without a towel.
Lunch was generally not a problem, although dinner occasionally got a little risky. Ono had thought (optimistically and foolishly) that if he couldn't teach Chikage how to be a good cook, he'd at least be able to teach him how to not be a bad one. Making tea, boiling an egg, cooking rice - those were all things that Ono'd felt confident /anyone/ would be able to learn.
Finding out that he'd been wrong wasn't half as painful as watching the expression on Chikage's face as he'd made a complete mess of Ono's kitchen in an attempt to prepare dinner after Ono had kindly told him that the rice he'd cooked the night before hadn't tasted all that bad. In hindsight, Ono supposed he could have done only two things, really - three, if you counted the possibility to burst out crying, which Ono didn't, because crying made his eyes go all red and puffy, and four if you also counted the option of yelling at Chikage, which Ono didn't either, because given the choice between kicking a puppy and yelling at Chikage, Ono knew he'd kick the puppy any time. (He was more of a cat-person, anyway.)
Ono could have been kind, cleaning up the kitchen and assuring Chikage that no lasting harm had been done. He'd intended to do that, really - it was the way everyone seemed to deal with Chikage. Still, it occured to Ono that if Tachibana would have rejected him kindly, without being rude about it or acting like he felt it was revolting for Ono to be in love with him, it would still have been a rejection. Ono's heart would still have been broken, he'd still have wept himself to sleep three weeks in a row, and he'd still have become a gay of demonic charm.
Being nice about Chikage's error wouldn't make Chikage feel better. It might make /Ono/ feel better (although, actually, he felt more like a pedophile every time he shushed and soothed Chikage) to be able to act mature and understanding, but not Chikage. In fact, it might make him feel worse - Ono imagined Tachibana patting his head and telling him he was just a little confused and should go home to wait for a nice girl to come around, and decided his imagination was too good by half, and that he was /never/ going to think about a nice and understanding Tachibana ever again.
Instead, Ono tried for a more objective (or perhaps opportunistic) look on the situation. His kitchen was a mess, which was a pity, but as a result, there was a very attractive man looking at him like he'd be willing to do just about anything to make amends. Who was Ono to not take him up on that offer just because he knew Chikage was clumsy and incapable of doing anything without making a mess?
Chikage wanted to do /something/ right, something that would please Ono; why shouldn't Ono just let him do exactly that? Chikage was, after all, an adult, and he deserved Ono treating him like one.
"There's uhm a bit of tomato sticking to your face," Ono said, reaching out with a smile that (he'd been assured) nobody could resist.
"I'm so sorry!" Chikage said. "I - "
"Did you have fun?" Ono asked. "Before I really knew what I was doing," he continued, "I sometimes tried to make recipes of my own. Most of the time, I just made a mess, but I always had fun." There was, perhaps, one-tenth of truth in that statement.
The sunglasses made it impossible to see if Chikage blinked at that statement. "I did have fun, I suppose, even if I didn't manage to cook dinner."
"We'll order take-out," Ono said.
Author: misura
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: It would, Ono thought, be child's play. Except that, of course, neither he nor Chikage were children anymore.
At some point in his life, Ono knew, he'd stopped thinking of 'games' and 'playing' as things that he'd done as a kid, involving such things as picking teams (he'd always wanted to be in Tachibana's, even if Tachibana snapped and snarled at anyone whom he felt wasn't making enough of an effort to win) and being good at sports (Ono'd never been very strong, but he was fairly fast and smart enough to know that when Tachibana yelled 'To the right, you moron!' he was not, in fact, supposed to keep on running to the left).
He'd left them behind, along with the illusion that his mother was ... something she wasn't, and if Ono was honest with himself (something he avoided arduously and skillfully), he'd never really missed them much.
Ono preferred to think that, really, it was because of Tachibana - he'd been there for a significant part of Ono's youth (a few years /was/ significant) and Ono had developped that embarrassing crush on him, and then Tachibana's crude and cruel rejection had put an end to Ono's innocent, happy and carefree youth. Or something like that. There'd been a few months during which Ono had really, really wanted to hate Tachibana, and blaming him for ruining Ono's childhood-memories had seemed as good an idea as any, and definitely easier to do than taking some sort of revenge by making Tachibana fall in love with him and then reject him as coldly and insultingly as Tachibana had rejected /him/. (The obvious flaw in that plan being that if Ono had been able to seduce Tachibana, he'd have done so already.)
And then Ono'd met Chikage, the 'possibly-and-quite-likely-not-gay-although-he-might-be-right?' of angelic and innocent charm, and he'd danced in the rain without taking his clothes of (or even being a little drunk). Chikage'd brought him flowers and asked him to go and drink a cup of coffee, and Ono felt that, really, something beautiful might have bloomed between the two of them, if only ...
Yes. Well. Eventually, everything had worked out more or less fine, and as a result, Ono now lived in constant terror of 1) Tachibana regaining his senses and killing him or 2) Chikage trying to make breakfast and killing him. Ono wondered when Kanda would start to reveal his dangerous side to him.
Of course, there were compensations - not quite of the sort that Ono had initially expected, after finding Chikage on his doorstep, luggage in one hand and a map to Ono's house in the other, but he'd comforted himself with the thought that anticipation was fun, too, and novel, and something different from what he usual got from his dates (inasfar as someone sharing your apartment and sleeping on the couch could be considered a 'date'). Never before had Ono enjoyed the sight of someone wearing only a towel while needing to use his imagination to provide him with the details of what was hidden under said towel. He usually knew already by the time he let people use his bathroom.
The danger-of-death-by-kitchen-disasters was a pity, but Ono suddenly recalled that he'd developed a taste for breakfast-cereals during his time in France, and that now was as good a time as any to start breakfasting with such simple fare again. Chikage declared he loved anything Ono loved (if only that were true!) and enthusiastically (if clumsily) dedicated himself to learning how to prepare cereals, which resulted in a few broken bowls, a lot of spilt milk and a considerable amount of soggy cereals which Ono forced down his throat smiling, imagining what Chikage looked like without a towel.
Lunch was generally not a problem, although dinner occasionally got a little risky. Ono had thought (optimistically and foolishly) that if he couldn't teach Chikage how to be a good cook, he'd at least be able to teach him how to not be a bad one. Making tea, boiling an egg, cooking rice - those were all things that Ono'd felt confident /anyone/ would be able to learn.
Finding out that he'd been wrong wasn't half as painful as watching the expression on Chikage's face as he'd made a complete mess of Ono's kitchen in an attempt to prepare dinner after Ono had kindly told him that the rice he'd cooked the night before hadn't tasted all that bad. In hindsight, Ono supposed he could have done only two things, really - three, if you counted the possibility to burst out crying, which Ono didn't, because crying made his eyes go all red and puffy, and four if you also counted the option of yelling at Chikage, which Ono didn't either, because given the choice between kicking a puppy and yelling at Chikage, Ono knew he'd kick the puppy any time. (He was more of a cat-person, anyway.)
Ono could have been kind, cleaning up the kitchen and assuring Chikage that no lasting harm had been done. He'd intended to do that, really - it was the way everyone seemed to deal with Chikage. Still, it occured to Ono that if Tachibana would have rejected him kindly, without being rude about it or acting like he felt it was revolting for Ono to be in love with him, it would still have been a rejection. Ono's heart would still have been broken, he'd still have wept himself to sleep three weeks in a row, and he'd still have become a gay of demonic charm.
Being nice about Chikage's error wouldn't make Chikage feel better. It might make /Ono/ feel better (although, actually, he felt more like a pedophile every time he shushed and soothed Chikage) to be able to act mature and understanding, but not Chikage. In fact, it might make him feel worse - Ono imagined Tachibana patting his head and telling him he was just a little confused and should go home to wait for a nice girl to come around, and decided his imagination was too good by half, and that he was /never/ going to think about a nice and understanding Tachibana ever again.
Instead, Ono tried for a more objective (or perhaps opportunistic) look on the situation. His kitchen was a mess, which was a pity, but as a result, there was a very attractive man looking at him like he'd be willing to do just about anything to make amends. Who was Ono to not take him up on that offer just because he knew Chikage was clumsy and incapable of doing anything without making a mess?
Chikage wanted to do /something/ right, something that would please Ono; why shouldn't Ono just let him do exactly that? Chikage was, after all, an adult, and he deserved Ono treating him like one.
"There's uhm a bit of tomato sticking to your face," Ono said, reaching out with a smile that (he'd been assured) nobody could resist.
"I'm so sorry!" Chikage said. "I - "
"Did you have fun?" Ono asked. "Before I really knew what I was doing," he continued, "I sometimes tried to make recipes of my own. Most of the time, I just made a mess, but I always had fun." There was, perhaps, one-tenth of truth in that statement.
The sunglasses made it impossible to see if Chikage blinked at that statement. "I did have fun, I suppose, even if I didn't manage to cook dinner."
"We'll order take-out," Ono said.