Chapter Text
“My name is Kazuha.” He introduced himself with the same grace and elegance he always carried with him, bowing at the waist despite sitting down. “It’s wonderful to have finally met you both. I have heard about you two from Scaramouche. My apologies for the surprise visit. Had I known that Scaramouche’s family was coming over, I would have prepared a gift.”
Ei raised one eyebrow as she ate a pack of fruit gummies. She sat on the couch adjacent to Kazuha while Scaramouche occupied the one across from her. Her gaze landed on Sara, who was pretending she wasn’t listening to what was happening as she cooked. Then, her eyes fell on Scaramouche whose face was buried in a throw pillow while his three friends took up space on the floor by his seat on the couch. She finished chewing and let out a hum.
“The two of you are dating.” She dragged out the last word as if it were foreign to her.
Scaramouche honestly couldn’t blame her no matter how embarrassed he felt; him and “dating” were two things that he himself never thought would go together.
Ei frowned, still skeptical of this revelation. Frankly, the only reason she believed it to be true was the evidence she found staring directly at her in the face. One, being that she and Sara did find Scaramouche leaping into Kazuha’s arms at the crack of dawn just to bump noses with each other.
The other being that Hu Tao, Heizou, and Venti were the most unhelpful people in the world when Scaramouche led Ei, Sara, and Kazuha back up to his apartment.
“You brought your boyfriend over to make out with him?! What happened to your not making out rule?” Hu Tao demanded when she woke up to the sight of Kazuha holding hands with Scaramouche, effectively waking up the others.
“Especially when there’s so many guests over at your place,” Venti whistled, his hair disheveled and sticking up in odd places. “I didn’t take you or Kazuha to be exhibitionists.”
Heizou stifled a yawn with one hand while raising the other. “I did, actually. The two of you seem like the type.”
Scaramouche internally groaned, pressing his face deeper into the pillow. He was never going to live this down… The three of them were quick to clean up after themselves, gather all their belongings, then set camp up in the corner of Scaramouche’s living room. Heizou held the bowl of stale chips, Venti had the dip, and Hu Tao helped herself to the food more than the two of them combined while watching the sitcom that was Kazuha meeting Scaramouche’s family.
But the atmosphere was too awkward. Only Kazuha relished in the tension that hung heavy in the air and Ei’s hard stare had no effect on his calm composure.
Ei blinked a couple of times. She kept taking in Kazuha’s appearance and looking back at Scaramouche as if drawing a connection that she could not make out. “So you’re not a prostitute? You weren’t hired to play the part of his boyfriend?”
Three different voices chimed together, cackling at the ridiculous assumption.
Kazuha laughed as well, although his laughter was mellow in comparison. Whether it was from Ei’s question, Scaramouche’s incomprehensible screeching, or the trio’s reaction to the entire situation, it was a mystery to all. “I am not a prostitute. But if I were, I wish to be Scara’s exclusive prostitute.”
Scaramouche screeched once more, clawing at his legs. “The fuck?!”
“Kinky,” Heizou commented. Venti giggled and gave him a thumbs up.
“To be an exclusive prostitute for him would basically be a boyfriend. Minus the money part,” Ei noted. She turned her attention back to Scaramouche. “But you let him call you Scara. It’s too late for you, little brother. You always said you hated cutesy nicknames, yet you put up with being called Scara.”
“I don’t see your point,” Scaramouche denied, his words coming out too quiet and jumbled. He spoke up again with more volume. “Mona used to give me cutesy nicknames.”
“Sushi isn’t a cutesy nickname, it just makes me hungry when I hear it.”
Kazuha perked up after hearing what Ei said. He looked at Scaramouche, his eyes lighting up with intrigue. “Sushi?”
Scaramouche flushed, burying his chin deeper into the pillow. “Only Mona’s been allowed to call me that.” But if it was Kazuha, then exceptions could be made. Especially if he was going to look at Scaramouche with such delight whenever he called him Sushi.
Kazuha accepted the shy rejection with a smile. “Yes, it wouldn’t be so endearing or kind of me if I took away Mona’s nickname for you. I don’t mind, though. I do prefer to give you nicknames of my own. What do you think, Scara? How does Mochi sound? Or would you prefer I call you my little storm cloud? Or my precious moonstone?”
It didn’t matter what nickname Kazuha wished to call Scaramouche by. All of them elicited the same reaction from him: burning face, a flustered expression… And not to mention his racing heart.
Scaramouche tried to sound exasperated when he groaned but in his ears, he sounded exactly like what Ei said. Like he was far too deep to deny Kazuha anything.
He sounded like he was happy.
Kazuha found himself a new hobby, one that he indulged in often. Apparently, he enjoyed seeing what kind of reactions he could get out of Scaramouche in response to his teasing. Scaramouche should’ve known. Before they got together, he should’ve considered all the times Kazuha messed with him or said something outrageous just to see how Scaramouche would react. Him melting into a puddle of mush on the sofa wasn’t enough; Kazuha wanted him to dissipate from all his sweet words. “My stunning tanzanite, perhaps? Oh, but this reminds me that I bought you something that I did not give you in that box. I’ll have to give it to you soon.”
Another gift? Scaramouche tilted his head. “You mean there was more than what was in that box you gave me?”
Kazuha stopped to think about the question, hesitating at first before giving an assured shake of the head. “It was one of the more expensive gifts I bought for you, so I believe I ended up forgetting that I put it in a more secure place. Everything else should be in your possession.”
Expensive?! Scaramouche sat up in alarm. “How much have you been spending on gifts for me?”
“I seemed to have lost count,” he answered, a little too cheerily. “Don’t worry about it, Scara.”
A bit too late to tell him not to worry. Scaramouche was wracking up numbers in his head, calculating too much nonsensical math for someone who thought he never needed to actively do such a task again. His brain zoned out, staring straight ahead with a blank expression as numbers and currency symbols danced around in his vision.
Ei pinched her brows together. She harbored many questions, Scaramouche could tell, but she appeared to be at a loss as to what to ask first.
In the kitchen, Sara was preparing a small platter of toast with a different variety of toppings. Scaramouche heard her cracking open the lid of a resealable container she brought with her, the contents being a homemade curry chicken salad. After she scooped a generous amount onto the last few pieces of toast she had not topped yet, Sara brought the platter over to the coffee table and placed it in the center with a small pile of napkins.
“I’m brewing tea,” she announced to them. “But I can prepare other beverages, such as juice, water, or coffee.”
Heizou let out an excited noise, raising a hand up. “I can brew coffee! Would you like me to help?”
Sara frowned, but it was quick to leave her place in place of a small smile. “You’re the guest of Scaramouche and me and Ei are his family. It’s my job to be a good host for any guests we have over. I can only imagine the horrific job Scaramouche did at keeping you all fed.”
“Wow,” Scaramouche drawled, robotically slapping both hands to his heart in mock hurt. “I’m right here. And fuck you, Sara, they’re still alive, aren’t they?”
Sara snorted. “I was joking. You can’t be good to me, but I know you’re good to your friends. Now go eat your toast.”
“No,” he retorted as he reached for the buttered toast on the platter with thinly sliced nectarines, a drizzle of honey and olive oil, and a few cracks of salt. Sara had all the toasts sliced diagonally. Scaramouche grabbed both halves of one and offered the second half to Kazuha.
When he grabbed it, his fingers brushed against Scaramouche’s. They seemed to linger longer than necessary that Scaramouche had to wonder if it was on purpose. But Kazuha accepted the nectarine toast with ease and he gave Scaramouche an innocent smile while raising it to his mouth. “Thank you. I’ve never tried fruit on toast before,” he said. He took his first bite, chewing slowly as if considering the very taste profile he was experiencing at the moment.
Scaramouche tucked the pillow behind him on the couch out of concern for dribbling any honey or olive oil onto it. He hummed, watching Kazuha eat. “Sara usually makes different toasts whenever it’s more than just the three of us at my place. Venti had it before. Same with Hu Tao”
He wasn’t looking for her to vouch for him but Hu Tao agreed. “It’s great! I love the curry chicken salad one the best but I don’t eat figs that often and I highly recommend that one with the balsamic and blue cheese! Heizou, try one.”
Heizou sat up so he could reach for a toast on the platter. He picked up the blackberry and brie toast along with a napkin then sat back down. “It doesn’t sound too bad as a meal. The next time I am in a rush, I’ll make this as a light breakfast.”
“I suggest the curry chicken salad on toast, then.”
Heizou looked at Scaramouche. “How come?”
“It was a suggestion, that’s all.” Scaramouche took a small bite out of the corner. “And I just prefer to eat something that isn’t sweet in the morning.”
Ei huffed. Aside from Sara, she was the only one who didn’t make a grab for a piece of toast. Even Venti treated himself to the nectarine one. But for Ei, the bag of fruit gummies was all she needed. She pointed the bag at Scaramouche’s hands, asking him, “Something that isn’t sweet, you say? Then please explain why you are eating the one with peach and honey?”
“Shush.” He had a routine and she knew it. “Anything sweet, I eat first. Then I eat something salty so I don’t have that sick, sugary aftertaste leftover in my mouth.”
“My preference also lies with savory food,” Kazuha said. “But I find this to be quite enjoyable to eat. I mean, fruit is always enjoyable for me.”
“Hell yeah.” Scaramouche grinned at Kazuha, who offered the same smile in return. “I fucking love fruit.”
Sara flicked her hand in the air. “Good, good. Stay healthy. It’s less of a hassle when only one of you here has a sugar addiction.”
In the midst of eating her gummies, Ei stopped to stare at her candy pack. Most of the gummies were gone. She pouted. “They’re fruit flavored, though.”
“That doesn’t mean much, Ei. Please? Can you at least eat some real fruit?”
“So both of you are now dating someone,” Hu Tao murmured as she watched Scaramouche interact with Kazuha and Ei interact with Sara. She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “What kind of world am I living in? Honestly, Moose, I never thought I’d see the day you’d actually get together with someone. I thought you wanted to remain celibate and I was convinced you were going to die on that hill.”
Venti clicked his tongue at Hu Tao, wagging his finger. “Now hold on. Personally, I think Scaramouche just needed some time to sort out his priorities. You get me? He was just being fussy when all he needed was a gentle nudge in the right direction. Am I right?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Scaramouche, waiting for a response.
A gentle nudge… Was the whole disaster of a conversation with Tomo what Venti would consider a gentle nudge? Scaramouche’s face grew hot at the memory. Those memories came with some imaginative visuals, too. Ones that Scaramouche really did not want to… Aw, shit.
He was thinking about it now.
“What are you thinking about?” Kazuha suddenly asked. Scaramouche jolted in his seat and Kazuha inched closer to him. “You suddenly turned red.”
He shook his head, mouth clamped shut. As if he were going to tell Kazuha that Tomo spoke of things that had a mighty hold on Scaramouche’s sanity, such as freckles. And muscles. And nakedness…
Kazuha pursed his lips. He sighed. “And here I thought we were going to be more open with each other. Come now, Scara, you can tell me whatever it is that you are thinking. I’m sure it’s nothing unusual. Perhaps it is something that Tomo said…?”
…Oh god.
So apparently, keeping his mouth shut didn’t do anything. Scaramouche stared at Kazuha, eyes wide. “No,” he whispered.
Kazuha nodded sympathetically. “Yes,” he said.
“He told you?!” Scaramouche leaned forward with both hands digging into his thighs. His face turned pale, yet it still felt like it was on fire. “Oh my fuck, Tomo, why?!” Had he no shame, no regard to poor Kazuha and whether or not he’d lose face knowing that such a conversation topic came up?
“It was a lot more embarrassing for me when he told me what he told you.” Kazuha picked up another piece of toast, going for the curry chicken salad and offering Scaramouche the second half of it. “But what’s happened has happened. And if you are curious, Scara, all you have to do is ask.”
“Ask what?” Venti looked between Kazuha and Scaramouche but when neither of them spoke and his only visual cue of what was happening was Scaramouche blushing and Kazuha grinning, he gaped. “No. You don’t mean—what? Hey, what are you two talking about? Come on, tell us!”
Heizou chuckled. “I think you already know.”
“The tea is ready,” Sara suddenly spoke up, turning her back on everyone to grab the pot. “Who would like a cup? Venti, I assume it’s apple juice for you.”
“As per usual,” he said, finally managing to dig his mind out of the gutter. “Thank you, Sara.”
“I am still trying to wrap my mind around this,” Ei said while Sara handed out drinks to everyone. She cradled a ceramic cup of tea between her hands, still gazing at Scaramouche and Kazuha in a curious manner. “You are dating a guy who is not a prostitute and you talk to each other as if you’ve known each other for all your life.”
…And how exactly do two people who’ve known each other for all their life talk to each other like? “What’s that supposed to mean,” Scaramouche asked.
Ei pursed her lips and her eyes, downcast. She admired the steam which curled from her cup and the gentle ripples that reflected in the tea. “You talk to Kazuha as if you’ve never been more comfortable with someone.”
All eyes fell on Scaramouche, who was taken aback by Ei’s words.
He couldn’t see it, but it wasn’t like he spent a lot of time trying to understand himself from an outside perspective. So was that it? Was that what he looked like to everyone around him? Like he was at ease when he was with Kazuha, like he regained a part of himself that Scaramouche thought had been killed off long ago?
“How long have you been dating?” Ei looked expectantly at Kazuha for an answer.
Kazuha tapped his chin, staring up in thought. “It sums up to be a little over a week. We have known each other for almost a year now, however. Only recently did we reconcile and decide to date.”
“A year? ” Ei’s eyes narrowed into a steel-like glare. No surprise for Scaramouche when he found himself to be the receiver of such a harsh look. “Strange. I don’t seem to remember Scaramouche mentioning you at all.”
Scaramouche scowled. “Do I have to tell you everything, anyways? Besides, I did mention him. Once.”
“I don’t recall.”
“You thought Hu Tao and I were fighting that one time.”
Hu Tao jerked at the sound of her name. “We were what?”
Ei’s face mimicked Scaramouche’s exact scowl. “And you didn’t even bother to correct me that you were talking about your boyfriend? Future boyfriend…? You two weren’t dating at the time when we had that conversation, were you?”
“No.”
“Scaramouche.”
“Look! You know now, so please stop patronizing me.” This wasn’t any different from how Scaramouche typically acted; he always kept things private from others. Hu Tao was the exception since she loved being nosy.
She kept quiet, but Scaramouche knew Ei had more questions she wanted to ask him and Kazuha. But she probably thought that now wasn’t the time, not when Scaramouche’s friends were still sitting on the living room floor and observing their conversation like an episode reality television. So Ei sighed. Tea and fruit gummies kept her occupied.
Scaramouche also began drinking his tea.
Heizou and Hu Tao drank their own tea. Venti drank his apple juice. Sara just stood behind the couch because she had nothing better to do now that everyone had been fed.
Then Kazuha budged in on the awkward silence by gently addressing Scaramouche. “So my understanding is that you have never told your sister about me.”
His eyes snapped wide open like never before. Scaramouche gulped down a mouthful of tea before trying to speak but he still found himself sputtering. “I—Kazuha, I’m just quiet about things that go on in my life. I hardly talk about other people I know. Just ask Ei who Rosalyne is.”
“Who?”
Scaramouche raised both hands at Ei, his face never looking away from Kazuha. “Exactly.”
“But I’m a special case,” Kazuha said. He let out a melancholic sigh and sipped his tea. “Your sister and her girlfriend already saw us kiss. I expect you to tell her more about me from now on.”
Heizou whistled. “Scaramoose, we were only joking but don’t tell me you actually brought Kazuha over so the two of you could make out.”
Kazuha chuckled. “It wouldn’t happen in front of any of you, I’m afraid. I’ve been waiting for Scaramouche and I to be official for far too long and I would prefer for our first time to be more private.” He winked at Heizou who was wiggling his eyebrows. “But ask me again some other time and I’ll let you know if you’re allowed to join.”
Howling laughter shook the walls and furnishings of Scaramouche’s apartment. Most of the sound was coming from Hu Tao, but Venti helped out by wheezing along and Heizou smothered his own laughter.
Ei remained blank faced while Sara turned away with disgust.
Scaramouche groaned, tugging at his bangs for a lack of anything better to do to hide his embarrassment. What in the world was happening? What was this madness that manifested itself as a conversation topic? The atmosphere was once too tense to try and add to it, but now it was worse. Worse in the sense that Scaramouche desperately needed to leap out the window before he lost any more of his dignity. “I need everyone to stop talking,” Scaramouche muttered in the hopes that someone would heed his request. “Can we all just go back to sitting in silence? Please? Where no one’s talking about kissing or making out or anything of the sort?”
“Yeah, I’d rather not think about you doing any of those things.” Sara said, grimacing. She left her spot behind the couch, returning to Scaramouche’s kitchen where she ruled as the higher power. “I’m going to make us all something else to eat. Would any of you like kimchi fried rice?”
One of the few times in Scaramouche’s life, he had no words to describe how grateful he was for Sara. “Yes! Yes. Give me a serving,” he exclaimed, following behind Sara so he could watch her cook.
And out of love for fried rice, everyone else chimed in that they wished for a serving. It led to Hu Tao bringing up a new drink recipe she invented which also intrigued Heizou enough for him to want to make it. Venti continued eating off the toast platter while now engaging in conversation with Ei.
Kazuha joined Scaramouche, who was sitting by the island. He took up the seat beside him, smiling when Scaramouche noticed him there. “Forgive me for embarrassing you,” he said in a sweet tone.
Scaramouche huffed, looking away. “I bet you are. It’s going to be a habit of yours now, isn’t it? Teasing me and getting a rise out of me?”
“All you have to do is tell me to stop. Just say the word and I’ll listen.”
“…” He watched Sara cut snip up some kimchi instead of answering. What was there for him to say, anyway?
Kazuha beamed, leaning over to plant a kiss on Scaramouche’s cheek. “You’re adorable.”
“On the contrary, I am evil. I dream about world domination and becoming a god very often.”
“And like I said. Adorable.” And he planted another kiss onto Scaramouche’s cheek except this time, Scaramouche leaned into it. “Also, your friends are fun. Of course, I already knew Hu Tao and I see Venti and Heizou on occasion whenever I visit you at work. But what I mean is that outside of the cafe, watching the way you interact with them is wonderful.”
Scaramouche rolled his eyes while smiling. “You should try spending a day with them. I love them, don’t tell them I told you that, but they enjoy bullying me and being a pain in my ass.”
Kazuha slightly turned his head towards the side, watching the way Hu Tao imitated the motion of pouring coffee with her hand and Heizou shooting finger guns at her. Venti dealt with an annoyed Ei who was adamant about telling him what the plan was for their next Dungeons and Dragon campaign. “I don’t know,” he said, turning back to Scaramouche. “I think I would enjoy spending a day with your friends.”
“We could plan a day. Maybe before we leave or some time during a break. We could all spend a day together and I’ll wait for you to lose your sanity after being around them for that long.”
“Sounds like a challenge.” Kazuha’s eyes lit up at the idea. He rested his chin against his palm and smirked. “I can’t wait.”
Oh he could only imagine what Kazuha was thinking. “Sounds less like a challenge and more of an opportunity for you to bully me along with them.” Scaramouche wouldn’t be fooled by Kazuha’s angelic smile. No. He would not fall for that.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Aren’t you two just the sweetest?” Venti exclaimed, showing up all of a sudden and throwing his arms around both Kazuha and Scaramouche. “Really, I never would’ve thought I’d witness the day, Scaramouche. You, dating someone like Kazuha. Man. Is it too early for me to ask about the you know what?”
Scaramouche glared at him, perplexed. “The ‘you know what?’”
“The you know what! You know.” But Venti didn’t say anything afterwards. He did, however, nudge Kazuha then removed his arm to trace something onto Kazuha’s back with his finger.
At first, Kazuha was as clueless as Scaramouche. But as Venti continued repeating the motion, Kazuha finally understood, uttering out a quiet “oh.”
“Well?”
Kazuha averted his eyes, staring off towards Scaramouche’s apartment door. “That? I have not thought about it yet.”
“Awww. It’s fine. I get it,” Venti retracted both arms and pivoted around, facing the living room. “I just have high hopes. And I expect to hear good things the next time I ask, which won’t be for a long while! Just saying.” He made his leave by flopping across the sofa and landing on the floor between it and the coffee table. The guy acted like he was drunk most of the time; this kind of behavior was normal for Venti.
“You know I’m right here.” Scaramouche spoke into Kazuha’s ear. “I’m not dumb. I know what you guys were talking about, but I appreciate what you two did.”
Kazuha’s cheeks turned pink. “And what would that be?”
Scaramouche gave him a droll look. “You know what. Talking about it out loud’s still intimidating for me, so thanks. For not saying it out loud.”
“We’ve only just started dating. I don’t want to rush anything and I don’t want to ask something that is a major commitment. But I agree with Venti.” His hand reached over, grabbing Scaramouche’s and giving it a squeeze. “I have hope for us. But we won’t talk about that. Not now. Not until we’re both ready.”
Kazuha’s hand was warm. Him and Scaramouche were similar in size but Kazuha’s fingers were somewhat longer and his skin, soft despite the many callouses decorating his hand. Scaramouche adjusted their hold so he could also give Kazuha’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Both of them had nothing else left to say. There was nothing more that they felt the need to say. Not out loud, at least. Simply sitting by the kitchen island, hand in hand, while Sara snipped up a cup of kimchi into small pieces for the fried rice was enough. Hu Tao served as the best source of background noise. She did a great job of filling up the apartment with her enthusiastic words and Venti helped out in fueling whatever discussions they were having, with Heizou chiming in whenever he saw the need.
Scaramouche found peace that he’d long forgotten the feeling of. He was content with himself and the world around him. If only he could feel this way all the time…
“Scaramouche.”
Ei came around the island with her empty gummy pack in hand. She tossed it into the trash can, watching it flutter while falling during its brief descent. Her eyes flicked over to Scaramouche’s hand conjoined with Kazuha’s before glancing up to look him in the eye.
If she’s still mad at me for never speaking a word of this… Scaramouche would just have to defend himself even if doing so sounded like a drag.
But Ei surprised him with a gentle pat on the head. She wore a soft expression, one that was not exactly a smile but her lips curled up just enough for Scaramouche to know that her expression was filled with fondness and pride. “I’m glad you found someone you care for.”
The last time Scaramouche remembered him and Ei talking about something major, they were talking about the rent he’d have to pay for his apartment in Snezhnaya. Before that, they had that fight over the phone.
One sentence from Ei wasn’t enough to be considered them talking, but that one line conveyed more words of assurance and encouragement than what was being said. Scaramouche smiled. Usually, he would’ve dodged her hand or pried it off his head. Today, however, he was enjoying the attention and affection he was receiving. He closed his eyes, humming as Ei continued to pat him on the head. “I know I talk shit about Sara, but I’m glad she’s here for you.”
“I am, too. She’s good to me.” Having said that, Ei gave Kazuha a pointed stare. “And I’m expecting you to be good to my brat of a brother.”
Kazuha held back a chuckle. He shook his head, smiling at Ei. “That is my plan. I assume this to be you expressing your approval of me?”
“You’ve yet to give me a reason to not approve of you,” Ei said. “But we shall see. Stay over for lunch and dinner. I’m sure I’ll know enough by then to see if I have to string you up by your toes and make jewelry out of your teeth.”
“That sounds lovely.” Kazuha beamed, undeterred by Ei’s threats the way a normal person would be. “Thank you for having me, then. Ah, but this reminds me.” Using the index finger of his hand still interlocked with Scaramouche’s, he tapped at his knuckles and told him, “Since we are now dating, I should also introduce you to my parents. I would love to invite you over for dinner and have them meet you before we leave.”
Immediately, an image of Beidou and Ningguang popped up in Scaramouche’s mind. His jaw fell slack, cold sweat starting to form on the back of his neck. “Your parents?”
“Yes,” Kazuha said, his eyes full of warmth. “My parents.”
Scaramouche had vivid images of Ningguang and Beidou whenever he heard their names mentioned. Particularly Ningguang, she left an intimidating impression on him. Her graceful movements and her elegant words hid a calculating mind. The way she addressed Scaramouche when he admitted his uncertainty about his feelings for her son had also felt like a threat. She was wearing those sharp, long golden nail guards at the time, too; one wrong word out of him and Ningguang could’ve scratched at his face out of anger.
…Or perhaps he was exaggerating it. It had been a while since Scaramouche last saw Ningguang or her wife so it was likely his mind was simply making her seem more dramatic and terrifying than she really was.
Although… Scaramouche thought to himself while goosebumps crawled up his arms. Ningguang and Beidou keep looking at me like they know the jig is up… Ma’am, please, I get it. Being in such a fancy schmancy rich person’s home already had him feeling like he was nothing but a speck of dirt that had the luxury of accidentally stumbling in through the front door. He didn’t need twin pairs of amused eyes watching him like it was the circus.
“Mother, Mom, this is my boyfriend whom I have told you about,” Kazuha said, motioning at the air between Scaramouche and his parents. “Scaramouche, this is Beidou and Ningguang. Beidou is my mom and Ningguang is my mother.”
All four of them sat in the dining room of Kazuha’s home. The round table was made from high quality looking wood, carved with intricate designs and polished until the surface shone like the chandelier hanging above their heads. In the center there was a turntable covered in a feast of Liyuan delicacies. It all smelled so enticing, but Scaramouche couldn’t work up an appetite when he was on edge. His seat, too, felt like pins and needles that were digging into his skin.
Scaramouche clenched his teeth, giving both Ningguang and Beidou a quick bow. “Hello.”
“How lovely it is to officially meet you, Scaramouche.” Ningguang smiled, holding up a steaming pot of tea. “Would you like to try some? Gongzhu tea. It’s a local specialty that I picked up during my last visit to Liyue.” Without even waiting for a response, Ningguang grabbed an empty tea cup and poured a serving for Scaramouche. She was delicate in the way she placed the cup in front of him and Scaramouche couldn’t help wondering if he ever looked that graceful when pouring tea for himself.
“Thank you,” he said, taking the cup that came around on the turntable. Scaramouche gently blew into the cup, watching ripples form in the tea. Rising steam tickled the tip of his nose and he felt some of the condensation gathering on his lashes.
Cool. Now what? What the fuck was he supposed to say? The three of them had already met and had a meal together and poor Kazuha was the only one who believed this to be the first.
He casually busied himself with drinking his tea, eyes averted downwards so no one tried pinning him with the job of starting a conversation. No thanks . Someone else could have that honor.
Beidou chuckled, resting an elbow on the table. She was the hero of the day, cradling her glass of wine while filling the air with minuscule questions. “So Scaramouche, why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself? The two of you are going to be moving in together while you attend college, but what’s your major?”
Scaramouche’s lip twitched. “Dance. I’m going to school to be a dancer.”
“A dancer!” Beidou exclaimed while Ningguang smothered a giggle. “Did you hear that, Ningguang? Scara, here, is a dancer.”
“I’m listening,” Ningguang said, eyes lit up with amusement. “I’m fascinated to know more about that. I am an avid supporter of the arts, you see, and it would be a privilege to see you dance before you potentially end up performing on a grand stage.”
…Oh. Oh, no. Scaramouche held his tea cup as if it were his only life line. No way did Ningguang just ask him to dance right in front of them all. He had been slacking for a year because of death and depression and a whole lot of espresso. This would only end with Scaramouche pulling a muscle and another shared memory for Ningguang and Beidou about teasing him.
Really, he should start stretching again before he and Kazuha had to leave for their fight.
“I have videos,” he said, digging into his cargo pants for his phone. “There was my piece for the end of the year show and my final for hip hop. I’ve got some videos of my practice sessions, too.” Scaramouche scrolled through his album of dance videos before presenting his phone to Ningguang.
His phone was plucked right out from his hand.
But not by Ningguang.
Kazuha hummed thoughtfully, scrolling through the videos he saw. “Forgive me, but I’m quite curious, myself. We’ve talked about you being a dancer but not once have I seen you dance. I hope you don’t mind, Mother, Mom, seeing how I am Scara’s boyfriend I would like to watch these first.”
Ningguang smiled. In her unoccupied hand, she picked up her own wine glass and gave it a swirl. “I don’t see why not. Go ahead, Kazuha.”
“You don’t mind, do you?” Kazuha asked Scaramouche.
Scaramouche shrugged. Why now did he feel embarrassed? “I don’t mind.” Beidou and Ningguang have already seen a video of him dancing, anyway.
The three of them began eating first. They would’ve waited for Kazuha had he not been going through every single video that made up the album, but even Kazuha insisted that everyone began eating while he watched dozens of shot footage of Scaramouche practicing choreography.
“You’re very flexible,” Kazuha murmured after going through half the videos.
“Hm?” He was chewing on a fried shrimp when Kazuha made the comment. Scaramouche shrugged, waiting until he finished chewing before saying something. “Probably not as flexible as I was in those videos. Haven’t been stretching since I took a year off.”
Kazuha looked at Scaramouche, wearing an unreadable expression. He had his lips pursed out while the cogs in his brain began to turn. Before Scaramouche had the chance to speak again, Kazuha smiled at him. “We can fix that.”
Scaramouche blinked.
The fuck was that supposed to mean…?
“Here you go, Mom,” Kazuha said, passing Scaramouche’s phone over to Beidou.
“Thanks, kiddo.” Beidou flicked through the videos using one hand. She slouched back into her seat, looking to be scrolling past every video she saw as if looking for something very specific…
And when Scaramouche heard the piano accompaniment of Buy the Stars, the deja vu knocked on his skull. He felt like he was reliving his conversation with Beidou in the alley district all over again.
Kazuha tilted his head at the sound of the music. “What a pretty melody.”
Scaramouche nodded. “Marina’s songs are some of my favorites to listen and dance to.”
“Marina… I don’t think I am familiar with that artist.”
“You’d be surprised.” Practically everyone knew How to Be a Heartbreaker and Primadonna; they just didn’t know that Marina was the one who sung those songs. “Marina’s awesome. She’s a whole vibe and I’ve made her songs my entire personality. You should give her a listen.”
“Perhaps I will,” Kazuha said. He finally picked up his chopsticks and began grabbing pieces of fish and vegetables to place in his bowl. “I adore your personality so I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”
“You—ah, you’re…” Scaramouche flushed, turning away from Kazuha. “Stop it, you…”
“They’re flirting right in front of us,” Beidou commented, her eyes still glued to Scaramouche’s screen. “That’s so sweet.”
Ningguang chuckled. “Quite. Although it seems that they may have forgotten about us. Scaramouche, let us hear more about you.”
Scaramouche’s hand cramped up around his chopsticks. “Me? What would you like to know?”
“Everything, of course,” Ningguang said. She dabbed at the corner of her lips with a napkin. “This is my son you are dating and I have a duty as his parent to know if you are good for him.”
Yeah. He should’ve expected that.
He leaned back in his chair and rolled his neck around. What to say, what to say… “My full name is Raiden Kabuki Kunikuzushi. Most people nowadays just call me Scaramouche.” Scaramouche paused, looking at Kazuha to assess his reaction.
There was none, which confirmed what Scaramouche suspected. “Tomo told you, didn’t he?”
Kazuha gave him an apologetic smile, scratching at his cheek. “He did. I did not ask for it, though.”
“I believe that.” Scaramouche returned his attention to Ningguang and Beidou. “I guess… Well, I was born in Inazuma before I moved to live here. My parents are deceased, so is my eldest sister… I have no clue where my younger sister is but, hey, I hope she’s doing alright. But my sister Ei lives in Stonegate City, too, with her girlfriend.”
Ningguang nodded along, not letting any emotion come across her face. “I see. I am very sorry about your loss. May I ask why you chose Stonegate City to move to?”
Hu Tao’s grinning face appeared at the front of Scaramouche’s brain. “I was grieving at the time, so I didn’t want to stay in Inazuma. I had a friend whom I’ve met while I was still living there and she told me she lived in Stonegate. She had a lot of influence in my choice to stay here. And she even helped me get a job while I was on leave.”
“I see.” Ningguang tapped at the table surface with her nails. Her brows were raised, soaking in everything Scaramouche told her and drawing connections between his words. “And this friend of yours, her name is…”
Scaramouche lowered his head while still maintaining eye contact with Ningguang. “Her family name is Hu. Her given name is Tao.”
“Ah, yes. Hu Tao,” Ningguang smiled. “I know of her family. Charming girl.”
Beidou rolled her eyes. She and Scaramouche knew Ningguang was merely trying to ensure that Kazuha was on the same page as them. Because, obviously, the three of them already had this conversation. “Don’t I get a turn in interrogating our son’s boyfriend,” Beidou asked, finally choosing to speak up after letting Ningguang direct their conversation. “So. Scara. First off, try the mora meat. It’s Ningguang’s specialty and I highly recommend you eat it at least once in your life.” She spun the turntable around until the plate of mora meat reached Kazuha and Scaramouche’s side.
Kazuha stopped the turntable before it could circle back to Beidou. “Thank you, Mom,” he said, taking one off the plate and handing it to Scaramouche. “Mother’s mora meat is not something she makes often. She personally prepared it for you to try.”
“I did,” Ningguang said while grabbing some roast duck to eat. “You know me so well, Kazuha.”
Beidou huffed. “I doubt it’s a matter of knowing and more of a matter that you only ever cook this for us on special occasions. Like when we officially adopted him. Or any of our birthdays—which reminds me, Scara, you’ll have to tell us your birthday.”
Scaramouche sat up in his seat, his back arched as he took interest in the newly surfaced topic. “It’s January 3rd. So wait, I’ve never heard Kazuha talk about his adoption that often. When did you guys adopt him?”
Strangely, everyone but Scaramouche was snickering.
Kazuha propped his chin up on the table with both arms, lost in an unknown memory which brought him amusement. When he looked over, Scaramouche found Ningguang and Beidou sharing the same expression. For the first time since sitting down in his boyfriend’s house, Scaramouche felt out of the loop. “What? Is it a close kept secret or something?”
Kazuha shook his head, eyes still glazed over from a hit of nostalgia. But he smiled and leaned over to pat Scaramouche on the cheek. “Nothing like that, not to worry. My adoption, you see, was an interesting process.”
From the start, Scaramouche was on edge. Now, he wondered if it was appropriate for him to leave given how wary he felt… A reassuring touch from Kazuha only made his head race even more. “Okay,” he managed, slowly trying to process what it was that he should stay. “So I guess it’s fine if I ask, again. When were you adopted?”
“I could tell you the official date that was written onto the adoption papers,” Ningguang said. “Or I could tell you the date in which we took Kazuha in.”
“…I’m sorry?”
Beidou threw her head back, laughing without holding back. She regained her composure right after and began counting off her fingers while still catching her breath. “Let’s see, Kazuha’s father abandoned him around the time when he was thirteen. And at that age, it would’ve already been difficult for a kid like him to get adopted. Given that he was abandoned, though, it would’ve been a bigger hassle to get him into our custody than if we just quote unquote ‘kidnapped him.’”
“I had to pull a few strings,” Ningguang continued, “just to make sure that everything appeared legit. None of us wished to enter him into an adoption center before we could officially adopt him so we all believed this to be the… easier of routes to take.”
“The two of you said you had to forge a lot of paperwork in order to orchestrate the whole adoption process,” Kazuha said with a reminiscent smile. “And Yelan helped, did she not?”
Ningguang lowered her head, smiling. “Indeed. Thus, we were able to adopt Kazuha despite the circumstances. His adoption papers would say that we took him in when he was seventeen.”
“But,” Beidou drawled, “Kazuha had already been sleeping in our guest room since he was sixteen. And he’d been mooching off of us since he was fifteen. But to keep the story consistent, Kazuha has been in our care since he was seventeen.”
As the three shared fond smiles with one another, a thick veil of silence draped itself over Scaramouche’s head. It was a suffocating feeling that he internally had to tackle in order to get a word out. He had to say something—anything—as long as it kept the conversation going and masked his disbelief as nonchalant intrigue.
“That’s pretty shady,” was the first thing he spouted out and fuck, that was not what he wanted to say. Hurry up and say something else. “But I’m into that.”
That was fucking worse than what he said before.
Kazuha’s eyes were suddenly burning holes into the side of Scaramouche’s head and all Scaramouche wanted to do was flee for the door. He tugged at his sleeves, flustered while refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “I…I mean to say that that’s cool. Cool, because that’s a pretty badass backstory to tell people. Oh, but I guess you can’t exactly tell people that for legal reasons…”
Perhaps this was exactly what Ningguang and Beidou wanted from him. Watching people suffer was one of Scaramouche’s own personal interest. Seeing how Kazuha and his family took enjoyment out of watching him squirm, he could understand where they were coming from. But he underestimated the sadistic streak which apparently ran in the family…
It was but a small mercy when Kazuha took pity on him. He picked up Scaramouche’s mora meat, poking it against Scaramouche’s lips. “Here you go, Scara.”
He accepted the offer without saying a word. Scaramouche opened his mouth a crack. The small gap between his lips was enough for Kazuha to feed him a bite of mora meat.
An intense hit of umami took over Scaramouche’s tastebuds, causing his mind to zone in on the flavor. The subtle sweetness of the meat…and the way it enhanced the savory taste. How unfair was it that Kazuha got to eat this more than once? He stared at Kazuha in awe as he chewed, who simply smiled and continued to feed him.
He wasn’t looking, but he heard Ningguang say, “It seems that you are a fan of my cooking.”
Since he was busy eating, Scaramouche hoped nodding would suffice as a response.
It did. With her sharp but dainty nails, Ningguang spun the turntable around. She allowed it to go around once, then twice, as she pointed out each of the porcelain dishes filled with a Liyuan delicacy. Anything brimming with red chillies, Ningguang made an offhand comment about Beidou contributing to the dish but she stated them all with a doting tone.
Everything Ningguang pointed out, Kazuha would pick some out of the dish with his chopsticks and place it in Scaramouche’s bowl to eat. The second time the food came around on the turntable, Kazuha would eat it himself.
“It’s been almost a year, hasn’t it?” Beidou asked, which earned her the attention of everyone at the table. “The two of you have known each other for almost a year now. How much do you guys know about each other?”
Scaramouche exchanged glances with Kazuha. Both of their mouths were full so they spent half a minute just staring at each other while chewing.
Scaramouche swallowed his food first. “He’s a slowpoke when it comes to ordering coffee.”
He did his best to hide his smug smile when Kazuha choked… but it was funny. Why should he hide it? “He doesn’t know what it’s like living with anxiety. I always have to check the menu of a place I’ve never been to prior before going, just so I’d know what they’d serve and what I’d want. Kazuha, here, apparently has no care in the world when he’s taking his sweet time trying to figure out what he wants.”
Kazuha pouted. “Patience is a good trait to have. Surely, everyone who works in customer service does not mind when customers take their time to decide what to order.”
Huh. Well as of right now, Scaramouche was unemployed. But he thought back to the days at Dawn Cafe where Keqing or Ganyu placed him on support and cashier. People could be indecisive. And while Scaramouche waited for those indecisive customers to decide what to order, he still got paid to wait on them.
He pursed his lips as he considered this. “I can’t speak for everyone who’s worked in customer service, but sure. I guess.”
“The first time I saw you, I felt bad about ordering the hot chocolate,” Kazuha said. “You didn’t look like you knew how to make it and I thought I must’ve caused you to worry.”
Scaramouche huffed, letting out a small smile.“No, yeah. I was only there for a week at the time; they don’t teach new hires how to make hot chocolate when they clearly should.”
“Yes, so I felt bad for causing you a bit of stress. But you looked like you wanted to figure it out on your own, like asking for help was equivalent to giving up.” Kazuha leaned against the table, hands folded together with his chopsticks wedged between them. “That is how the first thing I learned about you was that you do no like asking others for help.”
Quite intuitive. Or maybe not. They’ve had a year to get to know each other better. “Which is the opposite of you, isn’t it? You’re the kind of guy who goes with the flow, but you see no shame in asking for help when you need it.”
Beidou raised her glass. “I can attest to that. That’s how Kazuha first ended up sleeping in our guest room. Anyways, that wasn’t what I wanted to say. I meant to ask what your first impression of each other was?”
“Pretty,” Kazuha immediately answered, and Scaramouche’s mind blanked while his cheeks turned red. “Undeniably pretty. When we first met, you had your bangs pushed back by a headband and I think I remember you having on nail polish. At the time, I found you attractive but as I look back, I find myself wishing I kissed your forehead and each one of your fingers.”
“I…” Scaramouche covered his face with his hands. “I don’t know what my first impression of you was.”
Ningguang did not accept that as his answer, tutting as she poured herself more tea. “It does not have to be from the day you first prepared Kazuha’s order. You were simply an employee doing his job at the time. What we wish to know is your impression of Kazuha the first time he spoke to you outside of your job.”
Easier said than done. Most of Scaramouche’s beginning interactions with Kazuha took place within the vicinity of his former workplace. Whether it was inside the store, outside the drive-through window, just in front of the doorway…
…Or down the plaza by the ice cream shop.
Scaramouche hid his eyes behind his hands while thinking back to that day. That day where he and Kazuha spoke for the first time where their conversation wasn’t about coffee or pastry items. Where they both were surprised to find each other outside of their usual setting. Where the two of them spoke a bit about themselves and where Kazuha admitted his fascination for savory ice cream flavors.
Ah. He found it. His first impression of Kazuha. “Weird.”
Taking no offense to that, Kazuha laughed.
Scaramouche continued, “But he also left this huge impression on me about how generous he was.” He jabbed his elbow into Kazuha’s side. “You always left me huge tips and got me way too many gifts.”
Kazuha’s eyes flicked up to Scaramouche’s hair. “You mean like all those hair clips you’re currently wearing?”
He silently nodded, suddenly hyper aware of all the hair accessories he wore in his hair. In Scaramouche’s defense, he had spent the entire morning turning his closet inside out and the entire afternoon fixing up his hair and makeup. Kazuha just so happened to walk in on him still wearing the cropped T-shirt he goes to sleep in with purple patchwork graffiti cargo pants, his hair all mussed up and pinned with hair clips, and his eyeliner crooked on one eye.
Kazuha had the fucking audacity to laugh at Scaramouche and call him cute while he was dealing with a crisis, but he gave him a hug right afterwards then helped him sort out what to wear.
He distinctly requested that Scaramouche kept the “sprinkle” hair look, however. Scaramouche shrugged, deciding to play coy. “Weren’t you the one who told me to wear my hair like this?”
“I did,” Kazuha admitted. His hand reached up to tug at the small braid in Scaramouche’s hair. Before leaving for Kazuha’s home, he braided the side of Scaramouche’s hair and fastened it with the hydrangea clip he first bought for him. “The joy I feel whenever I see you wearing what I’ve bought for you is a feeling I will never be tired of.”
Scaramouche snatched Kazuha by the wrist, smirking when he managed to startle him. “What a coincidence,” he said, running a finger over the dangling charm on Kazuha’s bracelet. He had noticed it when Kazuha first came over to pick him up but only now did Scaramouche think it was appropriate to bring it up. “I feel the same way whenever I see you wearing this. Though I don’t remember officially giving this to you, so I guess I shouldn’t be feeling joy. Maybe anger. You thief.”
Kazuha rotated his wrist around with Scaramouche’s hand still wrapped around it. The lantern flower charms jingled and the shimmering orange color glimmered under the chandelier. “But it was meant for me, wasn’t it? I don’t believe it to be thievery if you planned on giving it to me. Besides, from what I remember, you did give it to me. Albeit…” Kazuha began trailing off but shook his head and reined himself in. “It doesn’t matter. If you wish to call me a thief, why not call me the thief who stole your heart?”
“That was sappy and cringey and I can’t believe you just said that to me,” Scaramouche deadpanned.
“I find it hard to believe that when you are turning red before my eyes.” Kazuha smiled, then looked over to seek agreement from his parents. “Right, Mother? Mom?”
Ningguang was busy drinking her small bowl of daikon soup. Her eyes were downcast and she didn’t say anything until she finished dabbing at the corner of her lips. “Ah… Young love is a beautiful thing. I can’t help but wonder if we used to be the same as them.” She raised a hand, bringing it over to rest on Beidou’s wine glass. Her hands traced over the rim and Ningguang gazed knowingly at Beidou who watched her, blankly.
Beidou groaned, rubbing the back of her head. “You mean like the time you snuck onto my ship and pretended you couldn’t swim so I’d pull you out and perform CPR?” She asked.
Scaramouche squawked. He looked back and forth between Kazuha and his parents, baffled by the idea of such a classy person like Ningguang doing something like that. “She what?”
“This woman,” Beidou said, jabbing a finger into the center of Ningguang’s forehead, “You can’t trust her. I’ve always thought I was the suspicious one, but then Ningguang pulls out all these sweet words and mind games and before you know it, you’re roped into a marriage with her and end up adopting a son.”
“Weren’t you the one who first picked Kazuha up off the streets?” Ningguang asked, smiling a sugary sweet smile. “That is not something you can blame me for. And look. We are now a happy family who is meeting their son’s partner for the first time.”
“Except we’ve met Scara plenty of times,” Beidou pointed out, giving Scaramouche a hard stare.
Somehow, the conversation found its way back to him. Scaramouche shrank back in his seat, finding it difficult to meet Beidou’s gaze. “I guess so. We’ve seen each other plenty of times through the drive-through window. And we did, I guess, have lunch together in the alleyway district…”
Kazuha blinked a couple of times after hearing that. “You’ve met my mom before this?”
“And your mother.” Scaramouche nodded at Ningguang, who appeared pleased with his answer. “I’ve met both of them before this. We bumped into each other while I was shopping and had a meal together.”
“But of course, we knew who he was beforehand,” Ningguang told Kazuha. “You talk about him constantly, and I should recognize the person who gives me my latte through the window.”
Kazuha slowly nodded, making sense of what he was hearing. Clearing his throat, he faced the table and stared deeply into his half eaten bowl of rice. “This explains why both of you were quick to accept that I planned on going with my boyfriend to Snezhnaya. As it turns out, the three of you have already met.”
“I’d be concerned if there was a parent out there who didn’t look into their son’s partner if he announced he was going to move in with them in a foreign country.” Beidou shrugged and poured herself another glass of wine. “Or maybe that’s just me.”
“We wouldn’t have agreed for you to go if we had doubts about your choice in partner,” Ningguang said. She nodded at Scaramouche. “But we already knew of him because of where he worked and we talked about you when we ate with him the first time. I didn’t hold any regards as to whether or not he would work things out with you, Kazuha, but it seems it has all worked out.”
Kazuha winced. “The three of you talked about me?”
Scaramouche mumbled to himself, “We talked about your horrendous habit of eating at night.”
“Perhaps we can continue this discussion after we are done with dinner,” Ningguang said, pursing her lips as she no longer found steam curling up from the dishes on the turntable. “Why not eat before the food gets cold? We even prepared some mooncake as our dessert.”
Mooncake… Hu Tao loved mooncake, always gushing about ones with red bean paste whenever the Mid-Autumn Festival rolled around. She gave Scaramouche one to try before, but he found it too sweet to take another bite out of. It honestly surprised him; on any other occasion, he would’ve been fine with red bean. Yet something about the red bean paste they used in mooncakes was different. It was denser and sweeter when it had no reason to be.
Damn. His stomach silently rebelled, ready to revolt if he had to eat red bean mooncake. But it’d be too rude of him to turn down what was offered to him, right? “May I ask what flavor the mooncake is?” He asked, hoping to manifest a flavor that was anything but the red bean.
Ningguang smiled. “You may. We have many flavors, in fact. This was the first time the three of us have chosen to make our own mooncake so we have an assortment of flavors. There is the matcha mooncake, the five nuts one. We also have lotus seed paste with the salted egg yolk inside and the red bean one, which is Kazuha’s favorite.”
At the mention of his name, Kazuha beamed while Scaramouche imagined banging his head against the table. Because of fucking course, Kazuha loves the flavor of mooncake that made Scaramouche nauseous after eating it.
“This was the first year we tried making snow skin mooncakes for the first time this year,” Ningguang continued. “Those are taro flavored.”
Beidou rolled her eyes. She jabbed at the grilled fish on the table with her chopsticks and held some up for Ningguang to eat. “Geez. You were the one who suggested we stop talking and eat first. Dinner first. Mooncake later.”
Ningguang had no complaints. Tucking her hair back behind her ear, she bent forward and ate the food Beidou offered to her. She said nothing else, exactly as Beidou demanded and all four of them worked on cleaning up the dishes on the table.
As they ate, Scaramouche felt a sense of deja vu as he watched the way Beidou and Ningguang silently flirted with one another. Casting flirtatious glances, piling food into one another’s bowl as if it were a competition…
It was weird.
But not bothersome. And that was the weirdest part.
Scaramouche slowly inched over on the side of his seat. Kazuha didn’t say anything, but he was sure he had noticed. And when Kazuha not so subtly scooted his chair closer to Scaramouche’s, that only confirmed what he originally thought.
Underneath the table, hidden from the dazzling glow of the chandelier, he hooked one leg around Kazuha’s. The positioning was weird, but the warmth Scaramouche felt through his cargo pants was comforting.
Kazuha slid his leg over so Scaramouche didn’t feel as much of a pull in his muscles. Scaramouche was busy chewing on a piece of pan-fried ginger, but he smiled at Kazuha when he looked at him.
He smiled back, leaning close so he could tell Scaramouche in a low whisper, “I’ve helped out in making the red bean filling and I find it to be better than any store-bought mooncake. If you’ll allow me the pleasure as your boyfriend, I wish to hand feed it to you.”
Scaramouche huffed, leaning away to shrug before focusing on finishing his dinner. With a mouth stuffed full of food, Kazuha could wait if he wanted to hear a verbal response.
His response, which he already formulated in his head, was “Dream on.”
Yet what came out of his mouth after he cleared his bowl was, “Okay.”
Attraction, Scaramouche remembered, after falling out of love with Mona, is pretty fucking powerful if it can make me let Kazuha feed me red bean.
But he didn’t find himself complaining.