Thirty Sweets

one more lick and then i'm finished

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I. can I have this?

“Hiwatari-kun,” Niwa asks, “can I have this?”

And his precious éclair is taken hostage right out his hands by a slippery thief before he can give permission or set dangerous traps in the five inches between them.

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II. jellybeans

Giving jellybeans to Daisuke is like giving peanut butter to a dog. Satoshi taps his chin, trying to look thoughtful but looking more smug than concerned.

“What was that, Niwa?” he asks between a slight smirk.

The boy’s sentence is composed of frantic arm movements, pointing, and a little sputtering in attempt to separate his jaws from the cemented gelatin between his molars, and Satoshi knows what he’s trying to say, but poking fun at Daisuke’s situation is too tempting, too humorous, and so very not a sweet thing for Satoshi to do.

“Did you say that you wanted another bag of jellybeans?” he says, and Daisuke’s eyes grow huge.

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III. are you done yet?

Everything that Daisuke touched immediately became an art form, no matter how insignificant or how trivial it was. It was clearly a mistake to bring him to the new ice cream parlor, where the customer could be as fussy as he wanted with sauces, nuts, sprinkles, and fruit. The three-scoop plateau quickly became the tallest mountain on the planet as Daisuke pressed sticky fingers against the clean glass and pointed to nearly every addition on display.

The worst part was that Satoshi was forced to sit across from him at the table and observe Daisuke’s careful destruction of his masterpiece. It began with sucking the cherries and whipped cream on top, to swirling the strawberry sauce and nuts around his finger and popping it into his mouth, to licking the spoon with a delicate tongue and reddened lips.

“Niwa,” Satoshi said irritably after twenty minutes of this sweet torture, “are you done yet?”

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IV. sweet tooth

Niwa Emiko stares at him as if he is the scum of the earth – not because of his origins, but rather his habits.

“You don’t like sweets?” she asks, and the kitchen utensils might as well have icicles growing off the ends just from her arctic glare. It’s bad enough that he’s violating the tile floor with his feet (and he really wishes that he hadn’t picked the socks with a hole in one toe because the woman is also frowning at that), but to ruin the sanctity of the kitchen puts the icing on the cake.

At least Daisuke is making an amusing scene, waving his arms and shaking his head behind his mother’s back to send silent messages of what not to say and where not to step. He’s acting as if Satoshi can actually understand him, and the only signal that Satoshi has been able to decipher in this mess is that if he takes a step back, he’ll fall into a snake pit thirty feet below.

“I never really developed a sweet tooth,” he answers, and judging from Daisuke’s hand smacking his forehead and Emiko’s face showing all sorts of wrinkles, he assumes that he is in deep trouble.

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V. one chocolate cake, please

Daisuke stares at him as if he expects Satoshi to inhale the entire cake right there and then, and maybe Satoshi’s diet isn’t as stable as it should be for his age, but he shouldn’t have to suffer this torture even if it is their anniversary. He makes the smart choice of scooping a gooey spoonful and drooping his eyes down low as he feeds it to Daisuke, and next thing he knows, he can’t get Daisuke’s fingerprint chocolate stains out of his tablecloth.

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VI. are you kidding?

Satoshi doesn’t need to look up from his newspaper to know what Daisuke’s doing or attempting to do. He simply writes a few more letters into his crossword and then shoves his hand into the boy’s face.

“Are you kidding?” Satoshi deadpans. Daisuke sputters and drops the dangling piece of licorice from his mouth, failing to get Satoshi to snatch it from his lips.

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VII. dreams

His sugarplum and lollipop dreams leave a pleasant taste on his lips in the morning, and they are even sweeter when white feathers are left on his pillow when he wakes up.

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VIII. flying colors

Daisuke’s eyes are particularly enthralling when he has strawberry-flavored candies melting on his tongue. His lips turn shiny and flushed from them, making Satoshi shut off the sounds of the outside world and listen to Daisuke’s every word.

“If you could fly anywhere you wanted to, right now, where would you go?” he asks, deep red lips curving into a sweet, glossy smile. The color is intense enough to make his pupils dilate.

“I suppose I would find a rainbow and then fly to wherever it takes me,” he replies. In truth, he has no answer because Daisuke’s colors are sending his thoughts in a frenzy, but his half-truth makes the boy’s expression brighten anyway.

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IX. cotton

It’s beyond embarrassing when his first attempt to kiss Daisuke misses by a milestone and he ends up kissing the cotton taste of the other’s shirt, but Daisuke laughs and holds his face in his hands to guide him to the right place.

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X. popcorn

Niwa is naturally well-mannered, but sometimes Satoshi wonders how easily Niwa can forget where they are and how to act in such an environment.

“Ah, I’m out of popcorn!” Niwa says in the middle of the movie, and Satoshi rubs his forehead.

“Not so loudly, please,” he hisses for the third time that afternoon. It seems to pass through the other’s ears as Niwa stands up and stretches, but he gets the message when someone from the back of the theater throws a piece of popcorn directly at his head.

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XI. hey, can I have...

Niwa finds him during lunch, again, and Satoshi feels that almost all of his tricks and traps are no longer able to keep Niwa away.

“Hey, can I have some, Hiwatari-kun?” the boy asks over his shoulder, and Satoshi refuses to look behind him to see the hungry look in Niwa’s eyes.

Almost, of course. He smirks around a mouthful of caramel squares – not all of his tricks are obsolete.

“Only if you call me Satoshi,” he says, thinking he has the advantage here, but he does not foresee Niwa swooping in and stealing a square through a round, sugary kiss.

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XII. thanks

He feels lame about it, but he should have known that Daisuke would notice his intense and focused gaze on a simple spot on Daisuke’s face, and awkwardly question it.

It takes several minutes, possibly because Daisuke thinks Satoshi is just being weird again, but Satoshi definitely has the other’s attention when he slides the tip of a finger over Daisuke’s cheek and then pops it in his mouth like a cherry.

Daisuke gives him a look between horror and hunger, and Satoshi responds with a casual shrug.

“You had a smudge of chocolate on your cheek,” he explains after removing his cleaned finger.

“Oh,” says Daisuke, and his face twitches with a half-smile. “Thanks.”

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XIII. shut up

Everything is a complete mess in his life and Niwa isn’t helping by just sitting there and munching on his chocolate squares without a care in the world, as if the simplicities were more important than trying to figure out how to prevent him from completely losing it.

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XIV. bite

It’s like taking a bite out of a poisoned apple, but if he falls asleep forever after taking every risk in the world by kissing Niwa, it’s not that big of a tragedy.

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XV. are you an idiot?

They’re sharing a tub of cookie dough ice cream in Daisuke’s room late at night without Daisuke’s parents knowing, and Satoshi dreads the thought of what would happen if Emiko decides to pay a little visit at one in the morning, but Daisuke pays no mind and keeps pretending his spoon is a choo-choo-train and Satoshi better open his mouth for the tunnel.

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VI. cheese

“This is amazing!” Daisuke compliments, swirling another cube of bread into the melted cheese. Satoshi shrugs as if it’s nothing, but the comment sinks deeply into his skin.

“I went to some fondue parties while in Germany,” he says for conversation. He checks the fork that’s holding his piece of meat in the oil to see if it’s ready. “At these parties, it’s tradition that if someone accidentally drops their bread in the cheese, they must go around the table and kiss everyone of the-”

Daisuke makes a noise and he has to stop there because Daisuke just lost three pieces of bread in the gooey cheese.

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XVII. let go

Satoshi is on the floor with two rips in the back of his shirt when Daisuke steps into his apartment, and the strawberry cheesecake slips from his fingers and splatters onto the floor when he runs over to him.

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XVIII. say cheese

“It reeks!” Daisuke cries out, his hands forming a protective cup around his nose.

“It’s good,” Satoshi defends, spreading the exotic cheese over a cracker. He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from smiling at Daisuke’s reaction, and he almost does when Daisuke’s eyes widen as he bites into the cracker with a sickening crunch. He eats the delicacy slowly and Daisuke wrinkles his nose at him once the cracker is gone.

“I’m not kissing you for a week,” Daisuke mutters, but Satoshi knows that such a statement will only last for a few hours.

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XIX. haha

Daisuke blanks out on the strangest things, but it does lead to Satoshi laughing until his stomach hurts when Daisuke forgets to put the top on the blender and becomes a part of the raspberry smoothie mess in his kitchen.

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XX. do you mind?

Daisuke really has no tact for being a famous thief, which makes it easy for Satoshi to detect whenever the boy is watching him eat.

“Do you mind?” he snarls, teeth congested with crunched lemon drop pieces. His words send a breeze of sugar and lemons over Daisuke’s face and he shrugs stupidly as if hypnotized.

“No, not really,” Daisuke answers.

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XXI. diet

“This!” Daisuke pokes him firmly in his ribs, not realizing how painfully strong his jabs are. Satoshi exaggerates his wince in hopes that Daisuke catches on, half-expecting the attempt to be futile anyway. “This is unacceptable, Hiwatari-kun! You need to change your diet.”

“To candy and pastries so that my cheeks and hands are sticky every day?” Satoshi retorts with a raised eyebrow. Daisuke huffs and crosses his arms.

“You’ve never complained about it before.”

“You’re right.” He leans in for a quick peck on Daisuke’s cheek to thicken the sweetness over his lips, and walks away before the touch registers in Daisuke’s mind. “I haven’t.”

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XXII. dentist

It was so many kinds of injustice and unfairness. He cranked his neck to the side, glaring as fatally as he could to hide the unattractive scene in his mouth.

“How is it that you eat all of my candy and I’m the one with cavities?” Satoshi growled between the globs and cotton in his teeth. Daisuke gave a nervous smile and twiddled his fingers innocently.

“It’s not that bad, Hiwatari-kun,” he tried to comfort. “Maybe this way, you’ll lose those five pounds you gained.”

He was well ready to get up from his chair and defend his waistline, but the dentist swooped in and stretched his jaws open before he could do so.

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XXIII. juice

Niwa has the most horrified look on his face when his butter-finger grip sends his glass of strawberry juice crashing on the floor and soaking into Satoshi’s cheap blue carpet. It’s near impossible to get the boy to stop sputtering and throwing all ranges of apologies and promises right in his face, so he sends Niwa to the kitchen and instructs him to settle down with another glass of juice while he takes care of the mess himself.

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XXIV. rainbow

The twisted, circular lollipop was so huge and colorful that it made Daisuke’s eyes go wide, and Satoshi wondered what the boy would do in front of a real, colossal rainbow.

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XXV. can I, can I?

He’s torn over whether to love or despise Niwa’s eyes because if anything, it can get him wrapped around Niwa’s finger in an instant. He gives the other a flat look, not about to give in without a fight.

“Can I?” Niwa asks again, big red eyes wide and innocent but so very, very strong.

“No,” Satoshi deadpans, and nearly smacks himself when that makes Niwa resort to using a trembling bottom lip.

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XXVI. yummy

Neither of them is very sharp in the art of cooking, but Daisuke insists it’s worth a shot and no one can actually burn cookies. There’s a mess of flour everywhere and how Emiko managed to make an elaborate flamethrower trap in the dishwasher is something Satoshi never wants to know, but they manage to get their chocolate-chip concoctions into the oven and bake them a little too crisp for Satoshi’s tastes.

“I hardly think they’re supposed to be this brown,” he says with a frown, picking a crusty piece off a warm cookie. Daisuke fidgets with his fingers and sighs.

“They could still be good!” he says – optimistic as ever, Satoshi thinks. He rips the piece off and offers it.

“You first.”

And he can’t help but stare when Daisuke slowly closes his eyes and opens his mouth to take the burnt cookie bit and Satoshi’s fingertips into his mouth. There’s gentle traces of tongue and teeth against his fingers, and he just barely recognizes how warm it is inside before Daisuke pulls away and takes a hearty bite.

“It’s yummy,” he says with a smile and crumbs between his teeth. Satoshi blinks as if he doesn’t believe it, but tests for himself by licking his fingers clean. It is good.

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XXVII. cafe

The crumpled note hidden between his homework informed him to be at the café one hour after school. There was no name and no indication that the writer even bothered to consider that perhaps he had work to do once school ended – but the writer was lucky enough to pick a day where Satoshi had no afternoon plans.

It was likely against his better judgment, and the fact that he was counting the number of sugar spoonfuls Daisuke was dumping into his coffee was surely a sign of that.

“I hope this isn’t interfering with any plans; I didn’t think of that until after I slipped the note in,” Daisuke informed sheepishly, failing to notice the twitch in Satoshi’s eyebrow after the seventh spoonful was sacrificed.

“No, I had nothing scheduled today,” he replied. He was about to babble on about the police force or the weather or anything to keep his mind off the spoonful tally. It worked well enough until Daisuke finished stirring the twelfth spoonful, gently set his spoon aside, and brought the poisonous cup to his lips.

Satoshi’s fingers clenched the tablecloth as he watched the lethal coffee go into Daisuke’s mouth, and he half expected the boy to drop dead right in front of him on the table.

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XXVIII. what’s happening?

His heart is racing and he can’t help but look confused because they can’t do this, no matter how sweet and pleasing the thought is on his tongue. He grabs Hiwatari’s arm before he can run and hide, fingers clenching almost too tightly and he can feel the other’s brittle bones too easily.

“What’s happening?” he demands pathetically, the taste on his tongue turning sour.

Hiwatari finally faces him, and Daisuke’s never seen him look so tired. The spirit in him rushes again just from that look; Daisuke swallows to keep it down.

“It’s not worth it,” Hiwatari bites bitterly. The air is stale and he just wants some clarity, but that doesn’t stop him from pulling Hiwatari closer, refusing to let go.

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XXIX. won’t you get tired of...

Daisuke always takes the chance to kiss him whenever Satoshi is eating sweets, no matter what the flavor or texture is, no matter how many times Satoshi gets the same thing; he loves it all.

Satoshi opens his eyes after having another kiss stolen from him, and frowns into Daisuke’s soft eyes.

“Won’t you get tired of this?” Satoshi asks, avoiding a thousand points in his question but wanting to know anyway, because he’s had enough of not understanding the world in his life.

To his relief, Daisuke’s thief-honest smile appears and past it, he replies, “Never.”

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XXX. sweets

The sweetest things his lips have ever touched are as follows: lemon drops, golden caramel, dark chocolate, strawberry tarts, and Daisuke’s sugar-sticky mouth.

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