Title: Adversity's Sweet Milk
Universe: My Boss, My Hero
Theme/Topic: Pudding
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing/s:MakioxJun (with help from Kazu)
Warnings/Spoilers: Slight spoilers for the end of the series? Also, fluff and stupid.
Word Count: 1,363
Summary: Jun doesn't like sweet things.
Dedication: jenkat's request on my fic request meme! Also for thehoyden; gay porn totally prepares you for life. BELIEVE!
A/N: After yesterday's freaking out and stupidity sitting down to write this for kicks was exactly what I needed. After this, there's one more request to fill, two more birthday fics, and then it's back to the Nickelodeon fellowship application! pumps fist
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.


Jun doesn't like sweet things—has never liked sweet things— for various reasons (i.e. in general); he can't explain exactly why because it doesn't even really make sense to him either. There's just something about the way the flavor sticks to the roof of his mouth for hours after he's done that he finds unpleasant and offsetting about dessert; it's as if, whenever he has something sweet, he can feel the individual grains of sugar grating like sand between his teeth whenever he speaks. Not to mention when he has too many sweets he starts to get restless and irrational, he becomes more likely to behave rashly than he otherwise would. They call it a sugar rush; he calls it dangerous.

But then again he doesn't hate sweet things so much that the mere taste of them makes him sick or anything. It's not that extreme. And he's even been known to—on occasion—partake if absolutely necessary. Like that time his sister was making Valentine's Day chocolates for the first time; of course he'd been the one who was force-fed candy until she had it just right (a long, long time later). And there was also that time when Hikari had first started looking after her siblings after her mother had been forced to take a day job to help support the family. He remembers how she'd invited him over to eat with them and that she'd made her sweet egg just a little too sweet that night; Jun had soldiered through it with a smile because she'd been trying so hard. And then there was that time at the park after Makki had rejected her too; he'd shoveled pudding into his mouth like a professional not because he'd wanted to, but because it felt like in doing so he would prove something to her, that it would tell her he accepted her even if Makki couldn't.

He'd been vaguely disgusted with himself afterwards (and not to mention rejected), but looking back, he doesn't regret doing that, because in the end it meant something important to him, some sort of milestone of letting go in his life.

Even if it had tasted horrible.

But at the very least, he knows that when the reason is right, he can get over himself long enough to take one for the team.

Which is what he's telling himself right now as Kazu's pudding sits, wiggling and shiny and imposing in front of him.

"Aniki's favorite," the yakuza sniffs, and Jun knows that Kazu doesn't like him because he has nothing in common with Makio, hates dessert, and kind of looks like a girl.

Jun knows Kazu is only doing this because he likes it when Makki smiles.

Jun likes it too, so he gamely picks up the spoon, scoops up a mouthful of pudding, and slowly puts it into his mouth.

It's not as bad as the ones he's had before (Kazu sure knows how to make pudding), but it's still not his favorite thing in the world either. He chews, swallows, takes a deep breath, and goes for the next bite.

Kazu brims with impatience. "This will never work!" he shouts, hands in the air over his head. "You should just leave aniki alone!"

Jun ignores him and slowly, slowly finishes the entire serving of pudding.

Kazu sullenly grabs the plate from him when he's done and goes back into the kitchen to wash up.

Makio gets back from school later that afternoon and Jun is waiting for him, "Shit, I've got a math test tomorrow don't I?" Makio groans, and remembers when he sees Jun sitting at the desk expectantly.

"Yup," Jun chirps, and pulls Makio down into the chair next to him. "So let's review."

Jun knows that Makio spends about seventy percent of their review session staring down at the top of Jun's head instead of the book, but even still, he manages not to turn too pink and makes sure Makio concentrates on nothing but calculus for the remaining thirty percent of time.

In the end Makio drives him home and there's a moment of tense awareness when they pull to a stop in front of Jun's house.

But it's too early for that and Jun isn't fully prepared yet; he smiles shyly and quickly gets out of the car. "Thanks, Makki!" he manages, and dashes up to his front door.

When he's inside he counts backwards from ten slowly and resolves to step up his training starting tomorrow afternoon.


The next day Jun heads right over to Makio's house after the two morning lectures he has are done with; Kazu is waiting at the door impatiently, plate of pudding in hand.

"Here," he mutters, and thrusts it at Jun. "I've got stuff to do, so you're on your own today. Who has time to watch you spend fifteen minutes eating one measly pudding?! Not me!"

Jun just smiles. "Sure, thanks."

He sits down at the living room table and contemplates the pudding for a moment before grasping the spoon and taking the first bite.

His reaction is better than yesterday; Kazu's pudding is definitely better than the other puddings he's ever had (though to be fair, the pool is limited).

Today it only takes him ten minutes to finish, and not taking any chances if he doesn't have to, he leaves before Makio gets home.

He thinks in another few days, he'll be ready.

He hopes they can last that long.


Two days later Makio has a science test he needs help studying for so Jun brings his old high school text book with him to Makio's house; he manages to eat the pudding Kazu has prepared for him in a record eight minutes.

Makio comes back from class a little while after Jun arrives and practically inhales the other pudding Kazu has prepared—the big one with the whipped cream and cherry on it that he specifically sets aside for Makio every day—and Jun watches the older man with a sort of horrified fascination as he even spoons up every last drop of caramel sauce at the bottom of the dish.

Makio catches him staring and blinks, looks awkward. "Uh… is something wrong?"

Jun quickly shakes his head. "It's nothing," he says, and smiles. "Let's study chemistry then, ne?"

They get to work (sort of), and when Makio's fingers absently brush his under the table as they review notes together, Jun thinks that at this rate, a few more days might be too much for them after all.


Jun resolves to eat two puddings the following afternoon and tells Kazu just that; Kazu rolls his eyes and breaks out another serving with a vaguely disgusted look. "This is completely wasted on you!" he gripes, and dollops the top of the second pudding with whipped cream just to be spiteful.

Jun steels himself and eats both of them in five minutes.

When he's finished he feels fine; he even thinks he's ready for anything now, come what may.

He hopes Makio's ready too.


The next evening it happens in the middle of an English test he is helping Makio practice for; one minute the yakuza heir is spelling the word for "Delicious" correctly and the next he isn't. Jun isn't exactly sure what happens in the two breaths that get them from point A to point B; all he can register is the fact that he is suddenly thrown up on top of the table—all their carefully organized flash cards are subsequently sent scattering— and Makio is kissing him like he's trying to discover what the exact meaning of "Delicious" really is.

In the first few seconds of contact all Jun can numbly note is that he was right, Makio tastes just like Kazu's pudding.

And all the preparation he's been doing these past few days is suddenly justified in that split second beat when Jun doesn't wrinkle his nose or pull away from the flavor on instinct, but rather, wraps his arms tightly around Makio's neck and tilts his head back, letting his mouth open in invitation.

In the minutes that follow he forgets about taste entirely.

END