97.
Title: The taste of worry
Pairing/Characters: MassuKame
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, warnings: Well, it’s a bit more serious.
Prompt: #97 Massu finds out that someone close to him has an eating disorder
A/N: Eating disorder. Is it weird that Kame was the first person that came to my mind? However, I hope you will like this <3
And: Lots of love to my amazing beta <3
Massu curled his nose, trying to grasp it all. The sweetness, the slight scent of chilli, spices that were lying deep underneath the surface, only revealed when taking one’s time to feel and taste them. The scent almost made him feel dizzy, he wanted to dive into the sweetness, at the same time he shied away from the spiciness. He wondered how it would be when he tasted it for real, sweet or spicy?
With careful hands he took one piece, sniffing at it before he took a bite from it. Careful, to taste it all, to feel it all.
He chuckled. It was sweet and spicy. Tasty.
~~~~
“Hey.” Massu raised his head, when he heard some noise at the door. It was this intimate and sweet sound of a love coming home. The way the shoes were brushed off, the sigh of relief over being at home and how it felt to wrap one’s arm around a body, warming it up from the cold outside. “You should really try this.” It was his first try to make chilli-chocolate.
Kame retreated from Massu’s comfortable and warm arms, dropping down on the sofa. “No, too tired. Sorry…”
Massu curled his nose a bit, but this time not because he wanted to smell the delicious scent of self-made chocolate but because Kame had been tired since weeks already. Very tired. Too tired to eat.
~~~~
If Massu had to choose his favourite cuisine, it would be Italian. It was so simple, yet so brilliant. The taste of a pizza was sending shivers through his body. The miracle of how some self-made macaroni sauce was making him feel joyful and happy. Antipasti, even though he was the only one among his friends loving them, were amazing. But they just didn’t understand the brilliance of dried tomatoes, in oil, with some feta cheeseinside.
On that day it was gnocchi time. He had never tried to make them before, but had always wanted to. It was a bit difficult, though - with Tegoshi sitting at the other end of the table, staring at him in frustration. It was almost making him give up. But he didn’t give up, because giving up was not in his nature.
“Give that to me. I’ll do it.” There was slight impatience in his voice, which he knew Tegoshi wouldn’t miss. He took the knife away from his friend, a very relieved expression on Tegoshi’s face despite the fact that he really hated Massu’s impatience.
Massu took a wet towel, wrapping the dough into it and rolling it between his hands until it turned into a small dough roll. Then he cut it into little pieces.
“You think this will taste good?” Tegoshi frowned, his pretty face looking seriously sceptical. “It’s only flour.”
“It’s flour and herbs.” Massu’s voice sounded almost offended and Tegoshi knew better than to keep asking. Flour and herbs.
“Here.” Massu offered one of the finished and now-cooked gnocchi to Tegoshi, a proud and content smile on his face when he saw how Tegoshi was eating it with the highest pleasure he had ever seen on Tegoshi’s face when it was about food.
“Seriously.” Tegoshi smiled as if he had just had an orgasm. “If he won’t like that, he really has a problem.”
Massu didn’t say anything, merely looking down at his perfect gnocchi. Did they? Have a problem?
~~~~~
“Kazuya…” Massu’s voice was unusually silent. “You need to eat.”
He had neglected the gnocchi. And not just them. He had also refused the spaghetti Bolognese: He had not eaten anything. Not the chilli con carne. Not the perfect schnitzel. Not the wonderful Tarte. Not the extremely tasty and expensive steak - medium and well done. Not the double-chunk chocolate brownies. Not the strawberry cake. Not the meat with fresh plums and cashew nuts. Not the self-made chips, with low amount of oil. Not even the original Japanese okonomiyaki, Nagoya style.
“You need to eat.”
He could see it in his lover’s eyes that he had just said something that made it real. It. That Kame wasn’t eating properly.
“Are you saying that I’m sick!?” Kame huffed angrily, before he grabbed his jacket and left.
Massu sighed a bit. No, maybe this wasn’t what he had wanted to say… but it was pretty close. You are not sick, Kazuya, but you are close to becoming sick.
~~~~~
He found him sitting on a park bench. All alone. And obviously drunk. Ignoring Kame’s complains he tugged at his arms grimly, pulling him up and almost carrying him home.
Massu was strong, even when he didn’t look like it.
When Kame dropped down into their bed, right after Massu had helped him to clean up and change into his sleeping clothes, he stroked through Kame’s hair lovingly. It was soft. Unlike his own hair.His was thick and stubborn, but Kame’s was pretty.
“Everyone has complexes, Kazu.” Massu pressed his lips against Kame’s sweaty forehead. “But we normally don’t let them win over us.” He paused. “And you are not sick. Not yet.”
~~~~~
“I’m normally not getting drunk that easily.” Kame’s head dropped against the table tiredly. A miserable picture.
Massu looked at the other through intense eyes, before he shook his head. There was no use in being careful about every word he said. He was not a psychologist, nor was he a very patient person. “You are hardly eating anything.” He told his lover bluntly. “What did you expect would happen? That the alcohol would just condense into thin air?”
Kame blinked at this unusually sharp tune. “I told you that I’m…”
“… not sick.” Massu nodded his head, before he put a plate in front of Kame. “Low-carb bread, with tomatoes. No butter.” he explained when he saw the other’s sceptical look. “And if you don’t eat it, I’ll…” he paused, wondering what he would do then. “…tell Koki and Maru. And Takki!”
“No, you won’t.”
“Oh, believe me.” Massu smirked. “I would. No, I will!”
The glare Kame showed him was definitely supposed to kill him immediately, but Massu couldn’t help but smile brightly when Kame grabbed the low-carb bread in front of him and took a bite of it. “It tastes good.” he admitted silently, after a silence that felt like it lasted forever.
~~~~~
“What are we doing here?” Kame asked in surprise when Massu stopped his car right at the beach.
Massu smiled brightly, taking Kame’s hand and tugging him along. He didn’t have to answer that question. Not yet. Kame would see soon enough. With swift hands he prepared a little fire with small branches lying around of them. Then he sat down next to it.
Kame blinked a bit before he followed him. Massu handed him a sheet of paper, before he took one himself.
“What are you writing?” Kame’s voice sounded almost shy.
Massu looked down at the sheet of paper. For a moment he was surprised at how he could feel it himself… in all its intensity: The pain, the anger, the desperation. He tried to swallow it down, remembering the many other good feelings he had, that were supposed to outshine the negative ones. Then he showed it Kame.
They say that in comparison to Tegoshi I’m fat and ugly.
He smiled. “I’m not.” He stated simply.With that he threw the paper into the fire, watching how it disappeared, forever. It felt good.
For a moment they both stayed quiet. He could see it in Kame’s eyes - how his mind was working like mad before he grabbed his own sheet of paper, scribbling something down. He didn’t say what he was writing, but he did throw it into the fire.
Massu put his arm around Kame’s shoulder, placing a kiss on his lips. There was weak smile. It was tiny, but it was there.
We all have complexes. But we won’t let them win over us…
Pairing/Characters: MassuKame
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, warnings: Well, it’s a bit more serious.
Prompt: #97 Massu finds out that someone close to him has an eating disorder
A/N: Eating disorder. Is it weird that Kame was the first person that came to my mind? However, I hope you will like this <3
And: Lots of love to my amazing beta <3
Massu curled his nose, trying to grasp it all. The sweetness, the slight scent of chilli, spices that were lying deep underneath the surface, only revealed when taking one’s time to feel and taste them. The scent almost made him feel dizzy, he wanted to dive into the sweetness, at the same time he shied away from the spiciness. He wondered how it would be when he tasted it for real, sweet or spicy?
With careful hands he took one piece, sniffing at it before he took a bite from it. Careful, to taste it all, to feel it all.
He chuckled. It was sweet and spicy. Tasty.
~~~~
“Hey.” Massu raised his head, when he heard some noise at the door. It was this intimate and sweet sound of a love coming home. The way the shoes were brushed off, the sigh of relief over being at home and how it felt to wrap one’s arm around a body, warming it up from the cold outside. “You should really try this.” It was his first try to make chilli-chocolate.
Kame retreated from Massu’s comfortable and warm arms, dropping down on the sofa. “No, too tired. Sorry…”
Massu curled his nose a bit, but this time not because he wanted to smell the delicious scent of self-made chocolate but because Kame had been tired since weeks already. Very tired. Too tired to eat.
~~~~
If Massu had to choose his favourite cuisine, it would be Italian. It was so simple, yet so brilliant. The taste of a pizza was sending shivers through his body. The miracle of how some self-made macaroni sauce was making him feel joyful and happy. Antipasti, even though he was the only one among his friends loving them, were amazing. But they just didn’t understand the brilliance of dried tomatoes, in oil, with some feta cheeseinside.
On that day it was gnocchi time. He had never tried to make them before, but had always wanted to. It was a bit difficult, though - with Tegoshi sitting at the other end of the table, staring at him in frustration. It was almost making him give up. But he didn’t give up, because giving up was not in his nature.
“Give that to me. I’ll do it.” There was slight impatience in his voice, which he knew Tegoshi wouldn’t miss. He took the knife away from his friend, a very relieved expression on Tegoshi’s face despite the fact that he really hated Massu’s impatience.
Massu took a wet towel, wrapping the dough into it and rolling it between his hands until it turned into a small dough roll. Then he cut it into little pieces.
“You think this will taste good?” Tegoshi frowned, his pretty face looking seriously sceptical. “It’s only flour.”
“It’s flour and herbs.” Massu’s voice sounded almost offended and Tegoshi knew better than to keep asking. Flour and herbs.
“Here.” Massu offered one of the finished and now-cooked gnocchi to Tegoshi, a proud and content smile on his face when he saw how Tegoshi was eating it with the highest pleasure he had ever seen on Tegoshi’s face when it was about food.
“Seriously.” Tegoshi smiled as if he had just had an orgasm. “If he won’t like that, he really has a problem.”
Massu didn’t say anything, merely looking down at his perfect gnocchi. Did they? Have a problem?
~~~~~
“Kazuya…” Massu’s voice was unusually silent. “You need to eat.”
He had neglected the gnocchi. And not just them. He had also refused the spaghetti Bolognese: He had not eaten anything. Not the chilli con carne. Not the perfect schnitzel. Not the wonderful Tarte. Not the extremely tasty and expensive steak - medium and well done. Not the double-chunk chocolate brownies. Not the strawberry cake. Not the meat with fresh plums and cashew nuts. Not the self-made chips, with low amount of oil. Not even the original Japanese okonomiyaki, Nagoya style.
“You need to eat.”
He could see it in his lover’s eyes that he had just said something that made it real. It. That Kame wasn’t eating properly.
“Are you saying that I’m sick!?” Kame huffed angrily, before he grabbed his jacket and left.
Massu sighed a bit. No, maybe this wasn’t what he had wanted to say… but it was pretty close. You are not sick, Kazuya, but you are close to becoming sick.
~~~~~
He found him sitting on a park bench. All alone. And obviously drunk. Ignoring Kame’s complains he tugged at his arms grimly, pulling him up and almost carrying him home.
Massu was strong, even when he didn’t look like it.
When Kame dropped down into their bed, right after Massu had helped him to clean up and change into his sleeping clothes, he stroked through Kame’s hair lovingly. It was soft. Unlike his own hair.His was thick and stubborn, but Kame’s was pretty.
“Everyone has complexes, Kazu.” Massu pressed his lips against Kame’s sweaty forehead. “But we normally don’t let them win over us.” He paused. “And you are not sick. Not yet.”
~~~~~
“I’m normally not getting drunk that easily.” Kame’s head dropped against the table tiredly. A miserable picture.
Massu looked at the other through intense eyes, before he shook his head. There was no use in being careful about every word he said. He was not a psychologist, nor was he a very patient person. “You are hardly eating anything.” He told his lover bluntly. “What did you expect would happen? That the alcohol would just condense into thin air?”
Kame blinked at this unusually sharp tune. “I told you that I’m…”
“… not sick.” Massu nodded his head, before he put a plate in front of Kame. “Low-carb bread, with tomatoes. No butter.” he explained when he saw the other’s sceptical look. “And if you don’t eat it, I’ll…” he paused, wondering what he would do then. “…tell Koki and Maru. And Takki!”
“No, you won’t.”
“Oh, believe me.” Massu smirked. “I would. No, I will!”
The glare Kame showed him was definitely supposed to kill him immediately, but Massu couldn’t help but smile brightly when Kame grabbed the low-carb bread in front of him and took a bite of it. “It tastes good.” he admitted silently, after a silence that felt like it lasted forever.
~~~~~
“What are we doing here?” Kame asked in surprise when Massu stopped his car right at the beach.
Massu smiled brightly, taking Kame’s hand and tugging him along. He didn’t have to answer that question. Not yet. Kame would see soon enough. With swift hands he prepared a little fire with small branches lying around of them. Then he sat down next to it.
Kame blinked a bit before he followed him. Massu handed him a sheet of paper, before he took one himself.
“What are you writing?” Kame’s voice sounded almost shy.
Massu looked down at the sheet of paper. For a moment he was surprised at how he could feel it himself… in all its intensity: The pain, the anger, the desperation. He tried to swallow it down, remembering the many other good feelings he had, that were supposed to outshine the negative ones. Then he showed it Kame.
They say that in comparison to Tegoshi I’m fat and ugly.
He smiled. “I’m not.” He stated simply.With that he threw the paper into the fire, watching how it disappeared, forever. It felt good.
For a moment they both stayed quiet. He could see it in Kame’s eyes - how his mind was working like mad before he grabbed his own sheet of paper, scribbling something down. He didn’t say what he was writing, but he did throw it into the fire.
Massu put his arm around Kame’s shoulder, placing a kiss on his lips. There was weak smile. It was tiny, but it was there.
We all have complexes. But we won’t let them win over us…