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Feed Me and Tell Me I'm Pretty

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When the elevator came to a sudden, jarring stop, Miyuki felt like he only had himself to blame. He had just been thinking about how it would be nice to spend a little bit more time in the company of the guy that Miyuki had been calling the Hot Angel.

The Hot Angel frowned as he pushed the buttons on the elevator seemingly at random. After none of those worked, he hit the Emergency Call button. They both waited. And...nothing.

“Well,” said Miyuki. “If we end up getting crushed to death in this elevator at least I finally got an excuse to talk to you.”

It was, admittedly, not Miyuki’s best opening line.

Except the Hot Angel smiled in return. “You needed an excuse?”

And Miyuki was temporarily distracted by the fact that Hot Angel had a voice to match. He also had a much better opening line. And Miyuki began to wonder just how far out of his league this guy really was…

On top of everything else, the Hot Angel was also way more helpful in this situation. He took out his phone and then held it up in the universal sign of searching for a signal. “Do you have any reception in here, by any chance?”

“Don’t have a cellphone,” replied Miyuki with a shrug.

And the man who looked like angel said in his angelic voice, “Well, fuck.”




It had been impossible not to notice the Hot Angel. And only partially because he really was that attractive. Mostly Miyuki noticed because it was hard to miss literally the only other person who checked their mail at midnight.

The first time they had run into each other at the mailboxes Miyuki had just finished up a long shift at the restaurant. They had politely nodded to each other and Miyuki had assumed Hot Angel was some kind of drunk businessman considering his professional attire, how haggard he looked and fact that it was late Friday night or was it Saturday morning…?

But they kept running into each other. And Miyuki started to pay attention. Mostly to how hot Hot Angel was, but also to how exhausted he looked sometimes. How every once and a while there would be a haunted look in his eyes.

And all Miyuki wanted to do was wrap him up in a blanket and cook for him.

Which was fucking nuts because Miyuki was not a nurturing kind of person.




“That is fucking nuts,” confirmed Kuramochi his attention still fully on the video game he was playing.

His roommate had unpacked the TV and his video game console and nothing else. Miyuki swore he was picking out his clothes straight from the boxes.

Miyuki flopped down on the couch. “He’s tired and so hot.”

Kuramochi laughed. “I have a feeling one of those things is more important than the others.”




Chris gave up trying to get any reception. He slumped up against the elevator wall as he put his phone back in his pocket and dropped his backpack on the floor.

“This late at night...we probably won’t be found till morning.”

“Fucking fantastic,” muttered the Pretty Boy under his breath. He set down the grocery bags he had been holding before turning his attention back to Chris. “I’m Miyuki Kazuya, by the way.”

“Takigawa Chris Yuu. It’s nice to meet you.”

The Pretty Boy--Miyuki Kazuya nodded in acknowledgment and they settled into an awkward silence. And for the life of him, Chris couldn’t come up with anything else to say. He was usually better at this, better at dealing with people. Hell, earlier that evening he had reset a broken arm without batting an eye, but trying to talk to one single, solitary, extremely attractive person made Chris want to hit his head against the wall.

He sighed. This...wasn’t how he imagined this scenario.




Jun said that Chris was lonely. And Chris had never really believed him. He had a good, core group of friends and a good relationship with his family. And as far as relationships went...well…

He had been contemplating getting a cat. Or maybe a plant.

And then he started to run into the Pretty Boy by the mailboxes.

And it was kind of nice to see another human being at the end of a long shift. Someone who was trying to get through their own day. Someone who wasn’t in the middle of a medical emergency. Someone, who was obviously exhausted, but who still made the effort to smile at him. And it was a nice smile. One that Chris found himself considering as he lay in bed at night.

Someone...who he started to look forward to seeing.




“No, this is good,” said Jun in an excited tone of voice that had Chris immediately regretting saying anything. “It’s about time you took interest in someone who wasn’t on the verge of dying.”

“That’s not--I don’t--” Chris gave up. He also closed his fridge. It wasn’t like he was magically going to have anything to offer his guests. Though really they should know better by now. “I have a life outside of my job.”

Jun and Tetsu exchanged glances. And...that wasn’t a good sign.

“When was the last time you went on a date?” asked Tetsu.

“Like three months ago?”

“Remind us what happened again,” added Jun.

Chris sighed. “A man had a heart attack at the next table over.”

“And?” prompted Tetsu.

“And I stabilized him. And then rode with his wife in the ambulance to the Emergency room.”

“And?” said Jun.

His friends were relentless when they teamed up like this.

Chris ran a hand across the back of his neck. “And I forgot about my date and never called them again---but that couple did send me a very nice New Year’s card.”

Jun groaned and then said, his voice somehow gruff and fond at the same time, “Chris, we love you and you’re a ridiculously good person, but you’re also kind of a fucking disaster. So do us all a favor and ask the Pretty Boy out.”




Jun was never going to live it down that Chris got stuck in an elevator with the Pretty Boy. It was like a plot right out of the mangas he was trying to get Chris to read. Which reminded him…

It probably wasn’t going to win him any points impressing the Pretty Boy, but they were going to be stuck here for hours so…

“If you want to kill some time, I’ve got...a movie downloaded on my phone.”

Miyuki looked at him skeptically. “A movie?”

“And you’re not allowed to make fun of me for it,” continued Chris as he started to fiddle with his phone.

“Who am I to judge someone for their kink. You do you, you know--and this isn’t porn. This is...what is this?” Miyuki squinted at the screen. “Your Lie in April. The live action movie.”

Chris only hushed him as he settled in on the floor of the elevator. “I haven’t seen it yet. A friend of mine kept recommending the manga and then the anime and I figured this was less time-consuming.”

“Makes sense,” replied Miyuki before he stretched and joined him. “Alright. Let’s do this.”




“Why would anyone recommend this?” sobbed Miyuki as he pushed up his glasses to wipe his eyes.

Chris handed over a handkerchief. A legit, white cloth handkerchief with the English letters: TCY embroidered on it in dark blue.

Miyuki accepted the ridiculous accessory and used it to wipe his nose. “Why do you own this? What is even going on? How dare you look so good while crying. No. Don’t smile. You’re making it worse. Look away. Leave me alone with my shame.”




Miyuki broke out the wine after that. He didn’t have any way to open it, but maybe if he cradled it lovingly in his arms--

“Here, let me have that,” said Chris as he motioned for the bottle.

And Miyuki was about to make a dumb quip--something about having a bottle opener or just being happy to see him--when Chris legit pulled out a Swiss Army Knife from his backpack. And proceeded to uncork the bottle of wine like a fucking pro.

“You didn’t tell me you had a knife on you. Well, shit, now you’re in for a treat,” said Miyuki as he started to unpacked the cheese and the grapes. If Kuramochi had a problem with it, then he could cook for their housewarming party.

Chris finished uncorking the wine before he handed over the pocket knife. Miyuki accepted with a nod of thanks and got to work cutting the cheese on his impromptu cutting board of a tin of tea.

Miyuki arranged the sliced cheese and grapes as neatly as possible on a box of rice crackers. He cocked his head to the side as he surveyed his work. His plating was atrocious, but considering the circumstances, he was willing to let it slide. He glanced up to find Chris watching him amused.

“I’m a Chef,” explained Miyuki as he reached over and nudged a grape ever so slightly. “It’s...a compulsion.”

“That’s fine. I can appreciate someone dedicated to their craft.”

“That’s...sweet. Really. But I feel like I should warn you since you’re stuck in this elevator with me, I’m insane.”

“I kind of got that from your opening line about being crushed to death. Can I eat the cheese and the grapes or are they just for looking at?”

“Please eat. Though it’s nothing special. However…” Miyuki considered the ingredients he had on him. “I don’t have any way to wash anything in here, but…I could totally whip up something legit for us to eat. How do you feel about bruschetta?”

“Never had it before.” Chris shrugged before he popped a grape into his mouth. “What the hell. Go for it. I’m willing to risk it just to see you cook in an elevator.”

Miyuki smirked as he started to root around in his bags. “I do love a challenge.”




The Hot Angel had been holding a convenience store bag. And judging by the smell of fried chicken it contained dinner.

And Miyuki had suppressed the sudden urge to slap the bag out of the Hot Angel’s hand.




“Please don’t,” said Kuramochi in between bites of food. “We just moved here.”

Miyuki had been cooking out of sheer spite. He hardly ever cooked at home. And Kuramochi was taking full advantage of the situation.

“Convenience store fried chicken!” exclaimed Miyuki for what might have been the third time that afternoon.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” replied Kuramochi. “That shit is delicious.”

“That’s it. You’re cut off,” said Miyuki as he reached to grab Kuramochi’s plate.

His roommate had already darted away, taking his plate with him.

“Do you think I should make him a bento?” called Miyuki.

“Don’t make it weird,” yelled Kuramochi from the living room.




Miyuki ended up making enough food for bentos for his whole kitchen staff. Which...was received with wide-eyed, disbelieving thanks. (Though now that Miyuki thought about it...maybe making the hot dogs into octopuses was a bit much.) Mostly, his staff looked at him and the offered food as if it was poisoned.

And Miyuki was forced to admit, Kuramochi was right.

He was making it weird.




“So, tell me about the wine,” said Chris as he sniffed at it cautiously before taking a sip.

“Well,” said Miyuki as he pulled out a couple of tomatoes, the French baguette, garlic, and basil. “This is a vintage Cabernet Sauvignon. Full-bodied, foxy, great legs--”

Chris laughed. “Now you’re just fucking with me.”

Miyuki laughed back as he chopped or tried to chop a tomato on the top of the tea tin using the tiniest knife made by man. “Sadly these are real wine terms. Though I doubt anyone has used them to describe this particular bottle since it cost me like 500 Yen.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

Miyuki shot him a look. “You could totally tell.”

“I could totally tell,” confirmed Chris who took another sip anyway. “It’s the best wine I’ve ever had in an elevator?”

“I should hope so,” replied Miyuki. “Don’t make it a habit.”

“Oh, I don’t know. This hasn’t been so bad.”

And Miyuki was glad he had something to do to keep him distracted from...that. Because that was quickly turning into something he couldn’t handle. He finished chopping up the tomato and moved on to the garlic.

“Could you rip up the bread into a bite-sized slice?”

“That sounds like a very official measurement.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a very official kind of Chef,” replied Miyuki. He mixed up the garlic and the tomato before tearing apart bits of the basil. He held out his hand and Chris dropped the chunk of bread he had torn off into it. “I brought the wine and the food. You brought the movie. What else you got on you?”

Miyuki was mostly kidding, but Chris pulled out a camping candle and a lighter from his backpack.

“Mood lighting?” he asked casually as if he hadn’t just pulled out a fucking candle and a lighter.

And Miyuki took a moment to gawk. “Okay. Seriously, I was honest and told you I’m insane. You’re morally obligated to do the same.”

Chris shrugged as he lit the candle. “I went camping with my dad last weekend. This was me finally cleaning out my car. What about you and this...feast?”

“This?” said Miyuki as he shrugged and held the slice of bread over the flame. “This is snacks for a housewarming party that I didn’t want to have let alone want to cook for.”

“Don’t like bringing work home?”

“Exactly. Thank you,” said Miyuki. “Can you please tell my roommate that?”

He figured that was as close to toasted as he was going to get over a candle. Miyuki dropped the tomato, garlic, basil mix on top of the bread and drizzled the olive oil and balsamic vinegar over it. He looked over the sad slice of bread. It was...quite possibly the ugliest thing he had ever made.

Miyuki handed it over to Chris anyway who accepted it with a bow of his head. “Itadakimasu.

He took a bite and immediately closed his eyes as he chewed. He also let out a pleased little hum that short-circuited Miyuki’s higher brain functions for a while.

“Okay. No. I’m sorry,” said Chris as he finished chewing and opened his eyes. “I side with your roommate. This is delicious. I’d make you cook all the time too.”

And Miyuki was tempted to tell him he wouldn’t mind cooking all the time for him if he was going to eat his food like that.

“I think...this is the first time anyone has actually enjoyed my cooking so much,” said Miyuki instead as he busied himself with making a second serving.

“That can’t be true,” replied Chris in between bites. He was trying to eat without dropping any of the toppings. It required a delicate balancing act. And Miyuki was utterly charmed by it.

“My food has been called ‘genius’ and ‘a work of art’. But...that could describe anything.” Miyuki shrugged as he focused on not burning the slice of bread on the candle. “The worst review I ever received called my cooking ‘heartless’.”

He looked up to find Chris studying him. “And? Why were they right?”

Miyuki laughed. “What makes you think they were right?”

“It wouldn’t have been your worst review if it hadn’t struck a chord.”

“Well, fuck,” said Miyuki for lack of anything better to say. “I’ll drink to that.”

Chris obligingly handed over the bottle. Miyuki took a long pull and then made a face as he swallowed.

“So, enough about me, what do you do for a living?”

Chris shrugged apparently unconcerned by the sudden change of subject. “I’m a Doctor. I work in the Emergency room at Tokyo Metro.”

“Of course you do,” mumbled Miyuki.




Miyuki was sick and gross and not allowed to go to work so he was extra grumpy. And Kuramochi’s idea of taking care of him involved lots of canned soup and orange juice. And Miyuki was pretty sure he was never going to be able to eat or drink either of those things ever again after this.

“Don’t pick up the mail,” muttered Miyuki when Kuramochi came to check on him before leaving for work.

His roommate set a fresh glass of water down on the side table next to Miyuki’s bed. His kind gesture at war with his annoyed tone of voice, “For the five hundredth time, I won’t pick up the mail.”

“You’re judging me.”

Kuramochi sighed. “I’m not judging you.”

Miyuki burrowed further under his blanket. “It’ of the few things that bring me joy.”

“Okay,” said Kuramochi slowly. “Now I’m judging you.”

“Don’t you have a job you need to get to?” replied Miyuki in what was supposed to be a cutting tone of voice. The effect was ruined by his stuffy nose.

Hai, hai. You owe me a steak for this.”

“Eh, how about omurice?

“You’re such a cheapskate.”

Miyuki laughed and then coughed and then promptly fell asleep.

He had been sleeping all day and had been bored out of his mind when he had looked at the clock and decided that now was a good time to go check the mail. The fact that it was about the same time that the Hot Angel checked his mail was circumstantial.

And if Miyuki sorted through his junk mail a little longer than normal well, no one could blame him for that because he was sick and concentrating was difficult. It wasn’t like he was stalling or anything. It wasn’t like he was waiting for that familiar handsome and tired face to walk through the lobby.

And seeing the Hot Angel didn’t make Miyuki miraculously feel any better, but he was a little bit happier.




Miyuki scoffed. “You saved the guy’s life. Who fucking cares if you ruined the date?”

“I should have at least called afterward,” said Chris with a shrug.

“No, fuck that,” said Miyuki. “If I had been on this date with you I would have followed you to the hospital. No. First, I would have ordered some to food to go and then I would have waited it out in the Emergency room with you and that man’s wife.”

Miyuki only realized after his rant that he had basically just asked Chris out on a date. Okay. Maybe he hadn’t actually asked. Yet. He hadn’t said or done anything that couldn’t bring him back from the edge he was teetering on.

Except then Chris smiled and said, “And they called you heartless.”

Miyuki looked down in order to hide his blush. “They called my food heartless.”

“It’s the same thing to you, isn’t it?”

And with that Chris essentially jumped kicked him over the edge and Miyuki found himself falling.

“So,” said Chris casually, normally, completely unaware of the turmoil he was leaving in his wake. “When was your last date?”

Miyuki lifted up his glasses so he could scrub his eyes. “You don’t want to hear this story. It doesn’t end with me saving someone’s life.”

“Humor me.”

Whether he realized it or not, Chris was asking a lot from him. It was...a little troubling how quickly Miyuki was willing to give in. How much he was willing to offer up information about his life, about himself. And for what? A nice smile?

Miyuki went to hand the bottle back and when Chris didn’t take it right away he looked at him. Chris had pulled his knees up against his chest and had wrapped his arms around his legs. His head pillowed in the curve of an elbow as he looked back at Miyuki obviously patiently waiting for his answer.

And...yeah...apparently that was all it was going to take.

Miyuki sighed. “About a month ago I was set up by a friend of a friend who has a friend of a friend, you know how it goes. Anyway, I took him to get oden at a food cart.”

“Un huh,” said Chris as he took back the bottle and took a quick sip. “How did that go over?”

“Not well,” said Miyuki feeling his lips tip upward into a grin. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret, I always do something similar with all of my dates. It’s a test of sorts to see what version of me they’re interested in.”

Chris frowned, obviously puzzled. “What? Why?”

Miyuki shrugged. “People think that because I’m a fancy pants Chef, they’ll get to eat fancy pants food or they assume I’m a fancy pants person--which is worst. I grew up in Old Town Tokyo, thank you very much.”

Chris was suddenly giggling. It was adorable.

“Fancy pants,” he muttered to himself before he cleared his throat and tried and failed at making a more neutral expression. There was no way to hide the amusement still in his eyes. “Sorry. I think I’m a little tipsy.”

And Miyuki knew he was a little tipsy himself because he freely admitted, “You’re adorable.”

And Chris only proved his point by blushing and running a hand across the back of his neck. “Anyways...who doesn’t like street cart oden?

“Oh, we’re back to me and my atrocious dating life?” Chris automatically passed back the wine bottle and Miyuki chuckled before he took a sip. He really was tipsy because this crap wine was starting to taste better. “There’s...something about street cart oden, you know? About being in the freezing cold as you eat something warm and comforting. It’s an experience that’s...unique and yet...a little like coming home.”

“It’s a shame that you wasted something like that on a crap date.”

Miyuki paused in raising the bottle to his lips again. He smiled as he glanced at Chris. “It is, isn’t it?”




The Pretty Boy was sick.

That was readily apparent to Chris who fought the sudden urge to place the back of his hand on the Pretty Boy’s forehead to check his temperature. He wanted to ask about his symptoms. He wanted to ask if he was resting. If he was drinking enough fluids. To warn him that if he didn’t take care of himself a simple cold could develop into something worse.

Chris didn’t do any of these things. He just nodded his head in passing like he always did.

He didn’t want to make things weird.




“I think...I had given up on dating,” said Chris in that too honest, too thoughtful way that people got when they were a little past tipsy. “I mean I told myself that I hadn’t, but I was considering getting a cat or a plant.”

“I’d kill a plant,” said Miyuki as he sprawled out across the floor of the elevator. Too drunk and too tired to care about how gross the floor might be. “My roommate is cat-like. I don’t know if that counts. Wait, wait, wait. You said something.”

“I’ve said a lot of things.”

“No, no. You said you had given up on dating. Had. Past tense.”

“Well, I had, but...this was a date. Wasn’t it?”

“A movie followed by a candlelit dinner?” Miyuki cleared his throat and blamed the heat on his cheeks on the wine. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“And I passed?”


“Your test. The one that you usually use the oden cart for.”

Miyuki probably had a goofy expression on his face, but at this point, he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I don’t cook for just anyone.”

Chris seemed to consider that...with more scrutiny than was necessary if the serious expression on his face was anything to go by.

“If this is going to go any further,” he said suddenly. “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh no,” groaned Miyuki. “This is where you finally admit to being insane, isn’t it?”

“No, no. It’s worse.”

“What is worse?”

And Miyuki was starting to legitimately worry because Chris looked stricken and then he blurted out, “I’m a fancy pants.”

And Miyuki couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that spilled out of him. “You’re a what?”

Chris sighed, resigned. “I’m fancy.”

“Oh,” said Miyuki as he tried to school his features into some semblance of seriousness. “That’s okay.”

“It is?”

And Chris looked so hopeful that Miyuki almost felt bad for adding, “You have to put your fancy pants on one leg at a time just like the rest of us, right?”

Chris hit the back of his head against the wall of the elevator. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I mean, yeah.”

They glanced at each other and Miyuki wasn’t sure who started laughing first.




They had run into each other a few times during normal daytime hours. And by that Miyuki meant around noon when most people were in the middle of their workday.

The first time it had happened had been rather embarrassing considering that Miyuki had literally rolled out of bed a half hour ago. He had forgone a shower and instead had put on a beanie. He was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and the shirt he had slept in. And was in the middle of a pretty atrocious yawn--when the door to the elevator opened to reveal the Hot Angel.

It was one thing to see the Hot Angel in business attire, it was a completely different thing to see him in a t-shirt and athletic shorts with his hair down and sweat making his skin literally glisten. And Miyuki wanted to swoon because it was too much for a mere mortal like himself.

Instead, he remembered that he had rolled out of bed like thirty minutes ago.

And Miyuki was so caught up in his panic of trying to remember if he had brushed his teeth or not that he almost forgot to exit the elevator.

Luckily, it seemed that the Hot Angel was equally distracted and he belatedly caught the closing door.

And Miyuki nodded as they passed each other.

And he waited until the elevator doors had closed before he swooned.




Miyuki had his head rested on Chris’ thigh. He wasn’t exactly sure when or how that had happened, but he wasn’t about to complain about this turn of events.

He was...comfy. Way more comfy than he thought he could be laying on the floor of the elevator.

And he was drunk. Those two things might have been related somehow in someway that Miyuki couldn’t put together right now.

He was just drunk enough that saying out loud, “I’ve been referring to you as the Hot Angel,” was sounding like a good idea.

Judging by the fact that Chris almost spit out his wine Miyuki must have really said those words out loud. Miyuki watched, probably more charmed than he should be, as Chris half choked, half laughed.

Chris wiped his mouth with the back of his hand setting the bottle down. “That’s better than the nickname I had for you.”

“Oh?” asked Miyuki curiously. “What was it?”

“Pretty Boy.”

And Miyuki wondered if it was possible to die from blushing so much.

Chris laughed again and Miyuki belatedly realized he was still talking out loud. “No, it’s not.”

“Are you sure? Because it kinda feels like I’m dying.”

“Trust me,” replied Chris dryly. “I’m a Doctor.”

And, fuck, he was perfect.

“Funny,” said Chris with a smile. “I was thinking the same thing.”




The elevator doors opened to reveal, of course, the Pretty Boy. The Pretty Boy who was looking adorable and sleep-rumpled. And Chris was...gross. So gross. He could feel how his sweat was making the back of his shirt cling to him.

And all Chris could think about was how this must be what the Pretty Boy looked like when he woke up in the morning. And Chris got...a little lost in that thought. So much so that he almost missed the elevator door as it started closing.

He nodded to the Pretty Boy as they passed each other. And Chris waited until the doors shut behind him before he let out a groan.

Jun was right. He was a fucking disaster.




Miyuki woke up tired and sore. Not the fun kind of sore either. The I-slept-on-the-floor-of-the-elevator-while-drunk kind of sore. He slowly sat up and reached out for his glasses. At least he had had the wherewithal to put them somewhere safe before he had passed out—on Chris’ leg apparently.

“Ugh,” groaned Miyuki as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I drooled on your fancy pants.”

Chris chuckled and yeah, that was a sound Miyuki could get used to hearing first thing in the morning.

He put on his glasses and was almost blinded by early morning, sleepyhead version of the Hot Angel.

Hair a mess. The first two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned revealing a sliver of skin. Eyes unfocused and half-lidded.

Maybe in his sleep, the elevator had fallen and Miyuki was currently dead and in Heaven. That was the only explanation.




Chris stretched. He felt like crap and probably looked it. There was a crick in his neck and his legs were asleep. He shook out the feeling of pins and needles as he watched Miyuki unfold his own arms and legs.

And what had to have been the worst night of sleep Chris had ever gotten was suddenly forgotten as Miyuki stretched his arms above his head showing off the long, lean line of his back.

Miyuki glanced back at him with a lopsided smile. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” replied Chris. “I’d like French Toast, please.”

Miyuki chuckled. “I’m a genius, not a miracle worker.”

“Well, what else you got?” asked Chris and he knew he had turned the simple question into half a dare.

One that Miyuki had obviously heard. Chris watched as Miyuki’s eyes darted to his lips. And before Chris realized what he was doing he had reached out and wrapped a hand around the back of Miyuki’s neck.

He wasn’t sure if he had pulled Miyuki towards him or if Miyuki had moved all on his own. It didn’t matter. Not when he was finally kissing the mouth he had spent most of the night contemplating.

Miyuki tasted like wine and garlic and morning breath. And it was the best kiss that Chris had had in so long he felt like he was melting.

And Chris was pretty far gone by this point. Even more so when the elevator doors opened and without hesitating, Miyuki turned towards the surprised maintenance worker and said, “Do you mind? We’re a little busy here.”




Miyuki didn’t really want to leave the elevator...or more accurately he didn't want to leave Chris. When they reached his floor the doors opened and Miyuki found himself standing there staring at his hallway. And he had the irrational thought that if he left the elevator then he would wake up to find this was all a dream.

He opened and closed his mouth unable to put into words all of the things that he wanted to say. It wasn’t until Miyuki glanced at Chris that he was able to make up his mind.

Because Chris seemed just as lost as Miyuki felt. And he looked so tired and so hot--

Miyuki stepped out of the elevator and put on his most charming smile as he turned back around to face Chris. “Well, come on, I’m apartment 621.”

Chris looked up at him. “What?”

“You wanted French Toast, right?”

It was an obvious ploy. One that seemed to work. Chris grinned as he caught the closing elevator door. “You’re really going to make me French Toast?”

“It’s a bribe so you’ll come to this awful housewarming party me and my roommate are throwing later today.”

“Are you going to cook again?” asked Chris hopefully.

Miyuki laughed as he held up his mostly empty bag of groceries. “I mean, I need to go shopping, but yeah.”

“Let me shower and brush my teeth and then French Toast and then we can go grocery shopping.”

“You’re going grocery shopping with me?”

Chris shrugged and the blush on his cheeks was as adorable as Miyuki remembered. “I ate all of your food so it only seems right.”

“Right. Okay,” replied Miyuki. “It’s a date.”

Chris looked back at him and smiled as he let the elevator door closed. “It’s a date.”