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“You’re taking all the whimsy out of my students’ work!” He picked up the next paper in the stack and presented it to (Name). “Look at this one! Akina-chan drew herself with her pet dog!”

(Name) squinted at the drawing. “Her dog looks gigantic.”

“(Naaaaaame)!” Sugawara scoffed and hooked his fingers into (Name)’s belt loop, pulling them into his lap. Any annoyance he may have feigned was betrayed by the way he kissed (Name)’s cheek before gracing their lips. “You’re too cynical!”

They leaned into him fully, smiling into the kiss. “Only to get a reaction.” And when the reaction was playful affection from their partner, (Name) could hardly be blamed. “I think your students are going places. Surely Akina-chan gets extra credit for having the biggest dog in the world?”

Another laugh from Sugawara. “I can’t give extra credit for that. It’s not the other students’ faults they don’t have a big dog in their drawing.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” (Name) sighed with a melodramatic lilt, even though they thought Akina-chan really deserved it. They picked up another paper in the stack, adding to the disorganization on their dining table, and gazed at the crayon scribbles and chicken scratch writing with appreciation. 

(Name) nestled further against Sugawara’s neck. “Kid art is so amazing. You can tell they were practically shaking with excitement.”

“You should’ve seen them when I said their job was to draw them and their families. At this age, they love their families more than anything in the world!” The classroom did erupt with squeals when Sugawara told them what their special art project would be. Even moreso when he brought out the stickers and glitter glue, which Sugawara predicted he would be cleaning from his classroom for the next three years.

But it was worth it, to see them smile so brightly and get priceless works of art. (Name) brushed their fingers across Sugawara’s jaw, thinking of days gone by. “To be a kid again…”

He was about to agree, but a light sparked on in his mind. “We could be!”

In the years that (Name) had spent with Sugawara, they learned that whenever he that that look on his face, it was a gamble on whether or not something wonderful or evil was going to happen.

They were pretty sure it would be in the wonderful category, but (Name) could never be too confident. “What’s on your mind, Koshi?”

Sugawara stood up with drive and ambition, still holding (Name) up in his arms as he skipped over to his desk, opening a drawer and rifling through its contents. Somewhere in the mess he told himself he was going to organize months ago, he pulled some lightly crinkled pieces of paper and a box of crayons.

“All the good materials are in my classroom,” Sugawara lamented, but with a cheerful expression nonetheless. “But, this’ll do, right? To make our own family portraits?”

(Name) looked at Sugawara like he was the universe itself. “That’s the cutest idea I’ve ever heard. Do we hang them on the fridge when we’re done?”

Sugawara grinned. “Where else would they go?” 

He finally let (Name) down— not before kissing them again as they sat down in their own chair and cracked open the box of crayons They didn’t know the last time they scribbled with crayons, or drew their best attempt at a self portrait, or channeled their inner child for a fun little art project.

(Name) looked up at one point, catching Sugawara peeking at their drawing. They threw their arms on the table in an instant, covering the paper from his view. “Hey! Don’t look until it’s done!”

“Hmph,” Sugawara pouted. “But I’m dying to know what you’ll draw.”

They only pulled their paper further away from him. “Isn’t patience one of those values you teach your students?”

There was no argument Sugawara could offer, so he grabbed a few more crayons and went back to work on his masterpiece. He wasn’t actually half-bad as an artist, and had improved his craft ever since he became a teacher— it was impressive how much of a morale boost a silly drawing of a cat on the chalkboard provided his students. But he found his sketch lines looser and more freed, following his instincts rather than any real plan.

They were a pair of adults and didn’t have anything to decorate with besides crayons, so it didn’t take them long to finish their drawings. Like little kids, excitement was radiating off both of them as they flipped their papers to the back to prepare a grand reveal.

“Flip on one?” Sugawara asked, and (Name) nodded quickly. “Alright! Three, two… one!”

They flipped their papers, revealing crude but colorful drawings that were filled with more love and dedication than anything else they put on paper in the last year. In (Name)’s drawing, stick-figure Sugawara and stick-figure (Name) were holding hands in a flowery field. In Sugawara’s drawing, misshapen (Name) and misshapen Sugawara were kissing in the front yard of their giant mansion.

“Aww! Koshi, that’s adorable! Are we kissing?” (Name) marveled at Sugawara’s piece, leaning closer to take in all the scribbled details. 

Sugawara preened under (Name)’s praise. “Of course. It’s my favorite activity!” He kissed their temple to prove his point, before turning his attention back to (Name)’s drawing. “Such a beautiful landscape you drew here. You’re a real Tohaku.”

“Do you think the art galleries will accept it?” (Name) linked arms with Sugawara, leaning their head on his shoulder.

“The most prestigious art gallery of all!”

Among reminders of upcoming events and novelty magnets, their fridge was adorned with their most accurate depictions of their love.

Ruggie Bucchi

Azul Ashengrotto

Jade Leech

Floyd Leech

Kalim Al-Asim

Jamil Viper

Silver Vanrouge

the restaurant is stunning, and the servings of delicious, mouthwatering food never ceases to impress you despite having visited and found your seat in this exact spot for years at this point. it’s always been an experience on its own right, simply sitting on one of the spotless benches inside a booth that offered comfortable privacy. often with excellent, adored company, other times, such as today, alone.

you’ve never been so grateful for the aforementioned privacy before, the one that offered half-walls covering you—and your face—what with the way you’ve absolutely been ogling at your waiter.

“would you like some dessert?”

the marvellously handsome waiter with a rather memorable tinge to his voice; it coats every word that leaves his mouth and you catch yourself not-so-inconspicuously staring at the movement of his perfect lips as he speaks. speaks to you, you realise belatedly, as he tries to get your attention again.

“that depends.” you settle more comfortably on the bench, crossing your legs as you smile at the way his eyes flit to the movement. “what do you offer?”

like an automation, your stunning waiter starts listing the menu off the top of his head. you can’t tell what he is thinking, what he has been thinking since you started this little charade, and as innocently attractive as it was to witness him deciding to humour you, you nudge the tip of your shoe against his calf to pause him—sevens, you can feel the moment his breath stills slightly—and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself smiling almost devilishly and uttering:

“say, are you on the menu?”

azul ashengrotto.

it takes azul a solid minute to process your words, and another one for him to actually reply with what only remotely resembles a proper human response.

inside of him, shock melts into mortified embarrassment (actually, that is an understatement of the century), hot and burning, and not in the pleasing way. no, not at all. his ears are not burning, and his hands are not itching to hide his face behind the clipboard in his hands, azul just… simply cannot believe you said all that out loud in the middle of the still-busy restaurant. while surrounded by full booths!

gracious sevens above, have you no shame? so what if everyone around you two were talking, laughing, not paying closer heed to what was occurring in this particular booth, or—

his grip on the clipboard tightens when you stroke the tip of your shoe against his calf again, motion deliberate this time, slow unlike the initial, fleeting touch. azul forces himself to exhale through his nose as he barely manages a smile that he’s sure looks half-mangled in comparison to his usual, suave ones.

your smile only widens at his evident attempt at salvaging what little dignity is left in him after your fatal heist. azul curses himself for floundering. it is not as though he is a fish on dry land. he has, should have, already found a secure enough footing here, yet you somehow manage to make him stumble over everything as though it was his first day on land all over again.

azul clears his throat with great difficulty. “m–my pearl—”

“‘my pearl’?” you’ve reached to fiddle with the cuff of his sleeve. azul promptly shuts up, mouth now dry. “why, you’re quite the flatterer, azul, sir.” (he will deny it later, but the way you stretch out his name in your mouth makes his knees buckle.) “am i already yours, hm?”

you raise your foot up until it rests against the inner side of his knee. it stays there—doesn’t move upwards, thank the sevens—but azul feels a little faint. it might be due to him inadvertently holding his breath for too long, or maybe it’s the fact that his heart is hammering so hard that he can hear the drum of it in his ears until it drowns out everything but you.

he suspects his next words are something along the lines of ‘i shall return with your dessert’, but it comes out a pitch too high and far too squeaky for his liking. his voice sounds foreign in his ears, but your smile never wavers and if anything, morphs into outright devious.

azul can only turn on his heel before you witness him melting into a boneless heap right in the middle of his own establishment, his walk of shame accompanied by your bell-like laugh.

jade leech.

oh?

so this was your play.

jade supposes he should have excepted it. after all, he was not so ignorant as to miss the long, lingering looks you had thrown his way all evening since he had started to serve your table, nor the coy manner in which you had asked for his name like he hadn’t heard it fall from your lips on more than one type of occasion—as a tinkling laugh while the two of you dance, a soft yelp when he surprises you with an embrace from behind, or his favourite, in pieces as you stutter the syllables out between barely audible gasps drowned by hungry kisses, with his hands somewhere on you to feel you, the thrum of your heart and the ever-moving bend of your body.

all that aside… why, he is positively delighted! it is not a rarity for you to indulge in this type of teasing, but goodness, does it always entice him to play along with this little game you initiate regardless of how many times it occurs. it is also a stark reminder why he chose to pursue that overwhelming affection of yours, why he willingly followed that fascination and whims you evoked in him in lieu of his usual caution.

“hm…” jade folds his hands in front of him, notepad and pen securely slipped into his front pocket now that he evidently has no need for them. watching your reaction to his faux contemplation is amusing, he admits, for he has always chased that thrill as much as his brother, though never so openly until with you.

giddiness bubbles in his chest, but he forcefully schools his expression. “i shall have to consider it, dear guest. i am not sure whether the chef is willing to arrange that at the moment, you see.”

the despondent pout on your lips makes him almost chuckle. almost being the keyword. instead, he stretches his own mouth into a rare, wide smile until you can see all of his sharp, pearly whites in all their glory, and he watches the way you stare at them, at the way your throat bobs ever so slightly.

“if odds are in your favour, however, feel free to visit in the afterhours.” jade reaches to lift your hand into his, attentively stares at you and your increasingly flustered reaction in kind as he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist; mostly with his lips, and then with the smallest graze of his teeth.

not enough to break skin, of course. jade would never mar you like so without your explicit comfort. the stutter in your otherwise steady pulse is enticing against his mouth, but jade simply smiles as he levels your wide-eyed stare with a crinkle of mirth in his own.

“in which case,” he hums, “i shall assign myself your personal escort and give you a very thorough tour around your desired delicacies.”

floyd leech.

floyd blinks once, twice, each eye languid enough to stir an impression of ease but too intentional to not raise alarm bells in any sane person’s head.

you blink back.

a small frown forms between his brows. you’ve been really confusing the whole dinnertime, he thinks, acting all oblivious and batting your lashes at him like you were trying to lure him into following your siren’s call.

floyd has no idea what you’re trying to achieve with this display. it’s not as though he isn’t already wrapped around your finger, he thought you knew that! you’ve been so touchy and teasing all evening, and were the circumstances different, floyd would be entertained by your little charade.

(and yes, perhaps his somewhat souring mood started when you pretended not to know his name. should floyd have made it a habit to make you say it until you were sick of the way it tastes? the thought displeases him. he’d rather you repeat it out of your own volition—the sound of it sits so nicely in your mouth.)

currently, though, his line of thought is as follows: it’s been a boring day, and he’d really just rather you pepper him with kisses like usual. floyd decides to continue that thought, flops beside you in the booth and all but abandoning the empty tray he had been holding till now.

well, more like on you than next to you. you let out a little oof as his tall frame settles against you, momentarily startled out of whatever had been taking over you the last hour or so.

“tesoroooo,” he whines into the crook of your neck, “why ya gotta act like a clueless guppy?”

“me?”

“yeah!”

why do you feign confusion? it’s not as though he thinks of anyone else as treasure, golden and shining, visible even through the murkiest waters. floyd reaches to pinch your cheek, and he sees you bite your lip to stifle a giggle.

huh.

“c’mon, tesoro,” he drawls lazily, changing his tune as he lightly probes your sides with his long fingers. he could dig deeper into the softness if he wanted to, true, but you are so comfortable and warm, and floyd is content to just run his hands up and down, ribs, waist, hips, back to waist. you dissolve into chiming laughter in his arms when he tickles you by nibbling at your neck, sound suddenly muffled when he surges up to kiss you square on the lips.

you hum contently and smile against his mouth, hands coming to cradle the sides of his head in the familiarly tender way. floyd pulls away to grin widely at you.

“there ya are. so mean, tesoro.” one kiss, two kisses. “can’t believe ya thought you’d get away with being so mean.” three kisses, one to your jaw. you sputter, trying to catch your breath through his loving assault. “ya gotta make it up to me, kayyy?”

(if azul is shouting after floyd for abandoning his duties… well, floyd wouldn’t know. he’s too busy with you, isn’t he?)