Alphagetti had to be the single weirdest food in the history of existence. Leon stared grimly down at the paper plate (shaped and painted to look like a smiling whale, to the man's chagrin), and wondered if he actually had to eat the artificially flavored stuff. "…Cid. This doesn't qualify as a meal," murmured the brunet.

He didn't expect Cid to actually cook, but hell, he wasn't eating this shit. It was something that Aerith would buy for Yuffie. The older man really wasn't paying attention, still slamming thick fingers down on the computer keyboard and eating simultaneously. At Leon's complaint, the blonde turned his head and gave him a slightly dissatisfied look. "I'm not a fuckin' housewife, ya moron. If ye wanna complain, make somethin' yerself," snorted the blonde, using the back of his hand to wipe slightly sugary tomato sauce off of his lips. "Now shuddup and eat yer fuckin' Alphagetti."

Leon scowled, as per usual, using his fork to push the little noodle letters around on his plate. "I can't," said the brunet, sourly. He cleared out heartless all day! He didn't have time to play Suzy Homemaker and put on an apron and cook and clean (which was probably why Cid and Leon's house constantly looked like a bombshell had gone off).

"So fuck off, will ya? I have work ta do."

The brunet stood, abruptly. He wasn't going to sit around here and sulk. Hell, he was going to Aerith's to get some real food. Shrugging on his bomber jacket, he cast Cid an icy glare over his shoulder before storming out the door in typical Leon fashion.

Cid just rolled his eyes. He knew Leon would come back irritable and frigid, as ever. But man, was it ever fun to see him all bothered like that. It was completely worth having the brunet storm away in a bad mood, to have him come back in a worse mood. To most people, it sounded horrible; to Cid, it sounded like a good time. Sex was always better when Leon was in a bad mood.

Standing, the blonde scratched the back of his head as he made his way over to the table where Leon had left his half-finished meal (if you could even call it that). With his own whale-plate-thing in one hand, Cid flicked his eyes over to Leon's plate.

Spelled out in noodle letters, was the eloquent phrase; 'Fuck you.'

Below it, were the jumbled letters 'L, V, E, I, O'.

Brows drawn, Cid glared at the plate, missing the point completely. He arranged some of the letters with the tip of his plastic fork, having to take a few random ones from his own plate as well.

In the end, Leon's botched love confession ended up saying 'I want to fuck you'. So, when Leon got home later and found the tomato-sauce covered whale plate grinning up at him with a mouthful of hidden emotions, he couldn't help but glare. Well, there was always next time Cid cooked to try to tell the truth.

Fucking Alphagetti.

(A/N: alphagetti is pasta shaped like letters. it's sugary, too. and yummy. google it.)