For the darlings, and the description style is largely based on Synesthesia. Really interesting syndrome, check it out on wiki. Enjoy!
Killing Time: Food
Yukimi watched him eat. Yoite pretended not to notice, too busy shoveling the mountain of rice in his mouth, hardly taking the time to chew properly before he was swallowing and mashing the next spoonful in. Yukimi was only watching because there was nothing better to do while Leader's next orders were being downloaded anyway.
"Does Kira make you eat like that?" Yukimi asked at length, amber wolf eyes slightly wide. Yoite wasn't sure with what—it didn't look like amusement. Maybe curiosity. Yukimi often acquired interest in things out of boredom, because otherwise it was fairly strict laissez-faire under his leadership. No questions asked about much, which made Yoite feel reasonably obliged to answer the few Yukimi put forth.
"…It makes up for some of the chi the Kira uses," he mumbled around a mouthful, and immediately shoved another chunk of meat in his mouth. Sometimes he was so tired he couldn't even taste the food. Those days, he ate to regain energy. These days, he ate because he couldn't get enough of the sensation of food. It was like a palette of colors on his palate—the tangy cool sauce was a watery blue-green, splashed on the turquoise-brown inside of the meat, and all rolled in a bath of rice-pale yellow fluff.
The computer made a cute tingling noise that sent a flash of pink and baby blue through Yoite's mind, and Yukimi turned around immediately to fiddle with the thing, clicking away and dismissing Yoite without another glance. Yukimi was good at computers, or at least leagues better than Yoite. Yukimi also liked customizing his computer, a lot. He was always showing Yoite some new 'theme' or 'icons' and babbling about programs that did who-knew-what, and the screen seemed to change colors and pictures every day. It made Yoite dizzy and confused. Yoite didn't know anything about computers. He wondered if he resented it, watching Yukimi's back bent close to the screen, tapping away at some intense rhythm only he understood.
He decided he didn't care, and focused back on his food, slurping up the last drops of dribbling sauce and burying his face in the bowl to get at the last grains. He placed the dish beside him, next to three other bowls. Yukimi said he ate as much as three people. Yoite had to take his word for it, since he couldn't remember how much he used to eat before he'd learned his Kira technique.
Sometimes his body was so drained it felt like a rag doll soaked in ice-cold water and then wrung dry. At that point it was almost too much trouble to eat, but he tried. For his sake, and for Yukimi too, when he went to the trouble of making or bringing him something to eat. Not that he told him, but he had the uncomfortable feeling that Yukimi saw the effort anyway. His body seemed to make up for those moments of terrible metabolism and apathy with periods of hunger so ravenous Yoite thought his stomach was being vacuumed empty, and he scrambled deliriously for something to fill the gnawing gape.
He rolled on his side, closing his eyes and letting the weight of his food-laden stomach press against the floor and nauseate him. The cotton-pale wind blew in the window, tasting of grass and peaches, while the tapping and clicking of Yukimi's fingers prickled along his skin. He felt himself slipping into the lethargy brought on by the heat, gravity, and the dedication of his body to absorb the food he'd shoveled in it. Belatedly he realized that his skin had stopped prickling, and he caught too late the movement of Yukimi's standing from the computer. He watched the feral, primitive grace with which he bent down to gather the empty dishes in one hand, and with the other lean forward and pick rice grains from Yoite's coat. He watched with lidded, unfocused eyes the hand that came up and carefully wiped the remaining grains from Yoite's jaw with a thumb that exploded in yellow warmth in Yoite's head.
"I hope you didn't make yourself sick like last time," he muttered as he stood up, plates clanging in metallic star-shapes against Yoite's mind, "I mean, is there a reason you need to stuff yourself until you explode? Like a damn anaconda, eats a boar every six months and then sleeps it off for six months until it's time to eat again."
He almost didn't deign responding, but it slipped out of his mouth anyway, sleepy and nearly unintelligible, as his eyes closed, "Better than being empty…"
Yukimi's steps paused, hesitating, and then they shuffled away into the kitchen, trailing softly against Yoite's skin like fur until they faded.
I love these two so much