The Silent Treatment
Yokozawa isn't speaking to him.
Kirishima isn't too terribly perplexed by this however, as the other man is known for his frighteningly cold shoulder, but lately it's just getting him down.
It's already been three days.
"C'mon now, hun," The editor draws out hopefully, noting the way Yokozawa twitches at the pet name, "I told you, Hiyo-chan doesn't have a close-minded bone in her body! She's my daughter, after all!"
Yokozawa huffs, scraping his chopsticks across the bottom of the pan in his hand as he cooks the eggs for their dinner, brow tightly furrowed as the other man struggles to get his attention.
"It doesn't matter," He growls, and Kirishima is momentarily happy that their silent cold war has finally ended, "a child should never have to see things like that."
Kirishima rolls his eyes, chuckling softly as he drapes his arms over Yokozawa's shoulders.
"She just walked in on us kissing," he laughs, chin stubbly as he rests his face against the other man's neck, "that cat of yours has seen us do much worse than that and he's fine!"
Sorata is currently sitting some ways away in the soft, woolen pet bed that Hiyo-chan bought for him with her allowance. At the mention of his name, the feline looks up, ears twitching as if hoping Yokozawa will feed him some scraps from the pan. It's been nearly ten years and the cat still hopes, he muses, even though he's stuck very strictly to a cat food diet, with the exception of the occasional can of tuna for good behavior.
He wonders if Masamune sneaks behind his back and feeds Sorata milk and leftovers. He'll have to have a word with him about it.
"That's because he's a cat." He deadpans. Kirishima chuckles as he pours the egg into a serving dish and mixes it with the rice and vegetables he'd finished earlier.
"He understands more than you give him credit for," the editor jokes, hindering Yokozawa's movement as he's not willing to let him go, "I called him an old fart the other day while I was scratching his chin and he bit me."
Yokozawa smiles at this, glancing across the room at his pet as if promising the treat of fresh fish as a reward for attacking his lover, before pulling a pair of potholders from the drawer under the sink. He then grabs the serving dish, carrying it to the dining table and dragging the ever-stubborn Kirishima behind him.
"He doesn't understand human sexuality," he draws out, placing the pot holders back in the drawer and pushing it shut, "but he understands that you're an asshole."
Kirishima simply grins, finally releasing his lover and making his way to Hiyo-chan's room to call her for dinner.
"Regardless," he adds, sultry, hand on the door frame, "Hiyo-chan doesn't mind at all. On the contrary, actually, I heard her bragging to her friend over the phone yesterday that she has more daddies than anyone else in their class."
Yokozawa chokes, face stained crimson as Sorata purrs from his spot in the corner. As Yokozawa makes his way to the cupboard to serve the cat's dinner, he wonders, over the sound of his stammering heart, why he hasn't strangled Kirishima yet, but reasons that it would only make his job harder.
Plus, he adds mentally, forcing a smile as Hiyo-chan bounds in and compliments how nice the meal smells, things would definitely get boring without the other man around.
So it's finally December, and so I declare this story to be MiladyQueenMab's Christmas present! I've been putting off typing and posting this because I wanted to write it for you for the holidays, so I really hope it was worth the wait. Thank you so much for being so patient and always putting up with me! I really enjoy our conversations and I'm not only terribly flattered, but also very happy that you decided to make conversation with me that very first time. Thank you so much!
It's still a little early, but Happy Holidays!