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Segasaki had demanded curry to be cooked for the third time this week. He had called Yoh, asking almost too sweetly for him to make his favourite dish. Yoh was already panicking because Segasaki had called, something that he only did when he had something urgent to say. Asking for his favourite meal to be cooked did not help lessen Yoh’s anxieties.
“Your favourite meal? If you tell me what it is, then I will make it for you,” Yoh spilled out, far too eagerly than he would’ve wanted.
Segasaki did not respond for a good minute. Yoh would have assumed that something had happened to the line had Segasaki not been breathing heavily on the other end. Just when Yoh was about to break the silence, “Curry. I want curry,” Segasaki said, all the sweetness from before replaced by his usual gruffness.
Before he could say anything in response, before he could ask why Segasaki sounded upset, Yoh heard the beep beep beep of the disconnected call.
Segasaki ending the call so abruptly and his seeming dissatisfaction with the previous curries turns Yoh into a ball of nerves. Not only that, but he had mentioned that curry was his favourite meal, which Yoh had been unaware of. He feels a little guilty for all the times he made curry but hadn’t taken it seriously or had been upset at the sheer number of times Segasaki wanted to eat it. If he had known he liked it that much then… But then again, why hadn’t Mizuki said anything about his love for curry? Why did he have to get upset at Yoh for asking about his favourite food to the extent of hanging up on him without even a goodbye? Did he not hear how willing, how eager Yoh was to please him? Yoh can feel the guilt being pushed to the back by the irritation and anger rising in his chest, and he is overcome with a determination to make the best curry that that bastard has ever eaten in his life.
But after a couple of hours of drawing and watching Everyday Weather, Yoh’s anger has subsided enough for him to face the harsh reality that his cooking is far too inferior to make curry that Segasaki would ever consider the best, that would make him cast his lop-sided smile at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, pleased and singing praises at Yoh. Feeling a wave of despair engulfing him, he shakes his head and tries to invoke the feeling of determination he had felt a couple of hours ago. He pulls up the messenger window on his computer and pulls up his chat with Man-san.
I need a curry recipe asap
Are you making curry again??!!
What can I do? He called asking me to make it.
Said it was his favourite
Your boyfriend is strange
How can he ask you to cook?
Eating your food once made me swear off of it
for eternity
Don’t make this any more difficult than it is
Link
The last time I made this
Atsuya begged me to have his children
😈
Good luck!
Yoh chuckles at the idea of Man’s husband begging her to have his children when one of the things that had brought them together was their desire to live childless lives. Yoh sends a sticker expressing his thanks, opens the link, scans through it and goes back to drawing.
~~~~
By the time Yoh places the pot on the stove to begin cooking, he is high-strung and rightfully doubting his ability to make a simple curry for Segasaki. Staring at the empty pot, he considers the challenge he had set himself up for, and it feels daunting, like he’s never made curry before. Maybe…maybe Segasaki won’t be too mad if he doesn’t eat curry today. Maybe his disappointed face will not be a knife that will wrench itself in Yoh’s heart, leaving him breathless and speechless, silently begging for Segasaki not to hate him. Maybe Segasaki will not be so upset that he won’t playfully say, “It will be sunny tomorrow,” and rake his eyes over Yoh’s body, looking at him like what he’d rather be eating is Yoh’s lips, his neck, his shoulders…
Yoh is brought out of his revelry by the little moan that escapes him. How can he possibly think about that when the possibility of Segasaki’s dissatisfaction looms over him like a dark rainy cloud on a cold winter morning? He shakes his head, hoping to push his worries into the recesses of his mind for long enough to prepare the meal.
He unlocks his ipad and goes to the recipe Man-san had sent him. Chicken cutlet curry: delicious, quick and easy (debatable) to make, with an added secret ingredient. Yoh gathers the ingredients he needs from the fridge and kitchen cupboards. He chops the carrots, potatoes and onions as evenly as possible, just like the instructions say he should. He measures out the condiments, making sure it is accurate. When all the prep work is done, Yoh turns on the stove and watches the pan heat, carefully adds in the oil, and then the vegetables, and then the water and curry roux, just as instructed. By the time the ingredients are all meshed together and just about ready, the curry simmering on low heat, bubbles slowly forming and bursting, Yoh remembers that he had not added the secret ingredient. He wonders whether he should just throw it in or leave it out. Refusing to fail at this and make subpar curry, Yoh throws in the grated apple and hopes for the best. He then fries the chicken cutlet and fluffs the cooked rice.
Just as he removes the final piece of chicken from the pan, way after he has turned off the curry, Yoh’s alarm goes off. He turns off the stove, washes his hands and makes his way to the entrance of the apartment and waits. Segasaki usually got home between 7:30 and 8:00pm, so Yoh had made it a point to be at the door by 7:25 pm, to wait and welcome him home. At exactly 8:00pm, Yoh hears the click of the door being unlocked, and Segasaki walks in.
“Welcome home,” Yoh says, barely above a whisper.
“I’m home,” Segasaki responds, placing his head on Yoh’s shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Segasaki rubs his forehead into Yoh’s shoulder, as if he can drill a hole and make space for his head in Yoh’s body.
Never had Yoh seen Segasaki in such a state in the two months he had been welcoming the other man home. Segasaki always came in with a cheeky grin plastered on his face, caging Yoh in the hallway wall, kissing him sometimes ravenously, sometimes softly. He always seemed glad, maybe even energised, to be back home. But today Segasaki seemed off. His shoulders were slumped, an air of tiredness enveloping him. Yoh lifts his hand and reaches for Segasaki’s head and starts patting it. With his other hand, he reaches for Segasaki’s bag, taking it and putting it on the floor while crooning, “You did well today.”
His own voice, gentle and soothing, comes as a surprise to Yoh. He had never heard himself sound so sure. Suddenly anxious and scared that Segasaki might reject this sudden expression of care, Yoh stops patting Segasaki’s head. Segasaki makes a displeased sound and gently pushes his head further into Yoh’s shoulder. Yoh’s lips curl up a little and he continues patting for a few more minutes before guiding the other man to the bathroom. “Wash up and come eat,” he tells him, voice gentle. “I made curry like you asked.”
When Segasaki gets out of the bathroom, more relaxed and with a hint of a smile in his eyes, Yoh is also feeling at ease and proud of the food he has reheated and served on two plates. He places the plates on the table just as Segasaki sits down. Sitting across from Segasaki, Yoh says a quick, “Itadakimasu.” He then looks at the man sitting opposite him just about to invite him to dig in but stops, the smile that had been growing on his face quickly fading. Segasaki was staring at his plate. The glint that had been in Segasaki’s eyes had vanished and his lips were becoming more and more downturned.
“So we’re having chicken cutlet curry,” he says flatly, no excitement in his voice, no smile on his lips. Then Yoh sees the one thing he had been dreading all day, the thing that had pushed him to make this special curry even more special if he could. He sees disappointment flicker, no, linger a few seconds on Segasaki’s face before he fixes it to something more neutral. With that, all the emotions that Yoh had tried to keep at bay flood his body, his hands trembling, tears threatening to become a storm and shower his face. Segasaki must sense a change in the air because he looks up from his food and whatever he sees on Yoh’s face makes his eyes go slightly wide. He opens his mouth to say something, but Yoh doesn’t let him.
“Three times this week I have made you curry just like you asked. We’ve had seafood curry, vegetable curry, and now chicken cutlet curry. I should be sick of eating curry all week, but what makes me sick is the look on your face when you sit down to eat!” And with that Yoh storms off to his room, leaving no room for Segasaki to come up with an excuse.
Slamming the bedroom door behind him, Yoh stands in the middle of his room, fists clenched into a ball, letting the anger and frustration course through his body with every rise and fall of his chest. Tears blur his vision, making the bed, his desk, the drawings stuck on the wall shapeless blobs of nothing.
After god knows how long, the blobs of nothing begin to form shapes. Yoh lifts his arms, finding his fists no longer clenched, and rubs his eyes. He must have stopped crying a while ago for he finds his eyes dry and stinging a bit. When he opens his eyes again, they focus on a drawing of Segasaki smiling brightly, eyes crinkled at the sides. That was the Segasaki that was meant to be looking back at him today. So why…why did he only get the grumpy, grouchy man, or worse still the disappointed one?
Yoh did not understand what Segasaki wanted from his curry. He thought it was enough to make it for him, but Segasaki seemed to want more or something else. If the grouchy man had told Yoh what was wrong, what exactly he needed, then Yoh would have at least tried to make it for him. However, he chose to brood in his displeasure and ration the information he gave up to Yoh.
He takes a deep breath and sighs, all anger depleted and making room for something else: shame for not being able to please Segasaki. Shame for wanting to see a smile that he never deserved since he couldn’t do anything right. Thinking about Segasaki’s slouched and tired body when he came home, Yoh feels guilty for adding even more to Segasaki’s already seemingly full plate. He feels bad for how he expressed his frustration at Segasaki. How could he act like seeing the other man's beautiful face was intolerable when he felt the exact opposite?
Yoh ruffles his hair a bit too violently. He didn’t know how he would face the other man after blowing up at the dinner table. He didn’t want to see anything other than affection in Segasaki’s eyes if he even got the courage to look into them. But staying in his room, making Segasaki keep thinking that Yoh hated to look at his face was intolerable. He needed to make things right even if that meant facing Segasaki’s displeasure.
Taking another deep breath in, Yoh quietly opens the door to his room. He peeks his head out, finding the rest of the apartment quiet and the lights to the living room turned off. That could only mean that Segasaki was in his room. He sighs in relief, grateful that he’d have the short walk to Segasaki’s room to pluck up some courage to face him. The short walk does nothing but worsen his nerves since he had passed by the dining room table and found both plates untouched. By the time he knocks on Segasaki’s door, Yoh’s heart is pounding fast and all blood seems to have been directed to his ears as they are burning hot and most likely very red. When Yoh doesn’t receive a response, he tentatively opens the door. He finds Segasaki in bed, upper part of his body resting on the headboard. He has a book on his lap but he is looking straight ahead seemingly lost in thought.
“Can I come in?” Yoh says, barely a whisper. When Segasaki does not respond, he speaks up again, this time being unnecessarily loud. That gets Segasaki out of his revelry and he nods his head. Taking quick small steps, Yoh walks in until he is standing a few feet from Segasaki’s side.
“What is it?” Segasaki asks gruffly when Yoh does not say anything but stands there fiddling with his fingers.
Yoh lifts his head and dares to look at Segasaki’s face. He finds not annoyance painted on there but weariness. Segasaki seems tired but not in the way he had seemed when he had arrived. It seems like the exhaustion had sunk into his pores and bones and reached all the way into his heart. Seeing that had hurt more than Yoh had expected. It seemed wrong to be standing, to be looking down at Segasaki’s seated body, so he got down on his knees and looked down at his hands.
“What I said earlier at the table, I didn’t mean it,” Yoh says.
“What did you say?” Segasaki asks, and Yoh can tell he is grinning devilishly, “Ah! That I was an eyesore to look at while I ate?”
Yoh winces as the jab Segasaki throws goes straight to his heart.
“I didn’t mean that. I just..” Yoh pauses, fiddling with the seam of his sweater, trying to find the words, better yet the courage, to say what he wanted to say.
“You just what?”
“I really put in a lot of work to make the curry. It was meant to be special and you…” Yoh bites his lower lip, scared to bare his heart out for Segasaki to see, “You looked unhappy. You didn’t even try it yet you didn’t like it!”
Segasaki sighs, and even though Yoh is not looking at him, he knows that he is rubbing his forehead. He hears the ruffling of the bed covers and Segasaki is down on his knees right next to him. He lifts Yoh’s chin up and wipes the tears that had been falling unbeknownst to Yoh. This gesture, so tender and new to Yoh pushes the floodgates open, and he is full on crying. Segasaki sighs again, not out of exasperation, but something that Yoh is too emotional to figure out. He gathers Yoh in his arms, rubbing his back, allowing Yoh to get his snort and tears on his long sleeved t-shirt.
They stay like that until Yoh’s tears have dried, until he’s stopped hiccupping, till his breathing is slowly steadying and all Yoh can hear is the drum of Segasaki’s heartbeat.
“Do you even want to eat my curry?” Yoh asks, head tucked into Segasaki’s chest.
Segasaki gently pushes Yoh away from his chest and lifts Yoh’s head, forcing him to look into Segasaki’s eyes. “Of course I want to eat your curry. It’s my favourite.”
Even though the word 'favourite' makes Yoh squirm in discomfort, a warmth blooms in his chest. The warmth gives him courage to ask another question. “If it’s your favourite, then why do you seem not to like the curries I made this week?”
Since Yoh had been forced to look at Segasaki, he watches as the tenderness seeps out of Segasaki’s eyes and face. He sees Segasaki’s lips form a hard set line, and his eyes dance with irritation. Startled by the sudden change, Yoh flinches and slightly pulls back from the other man. He looks at Yoh long and hard, then closes his eyes, running the hand that once held up Yoh’s chin through his hair and takes a deep breath.
“I just…I just wanted my favourite curry,” Segasaki says as he opens his eyes to look at Yoh, anger washed away. Leaning forward and placing his forehead on Yoh’s shoulder, Segasaki continues, “These past couple of weeks have been stressful and this week was especially hard. I just wanted to eat my comfort food that only my person can make, that my person would know to make.”
Although he doesn’t quite understand what Segasaki is going on about, Yoh feels the tension he did not know he had been holding begin to dissipate. He feels his cheeks flush from being called Segasaki’s person. He begins to run his hand through Segasaki’s hair, first reluctantly then with confidence when Segasaki leans into his touch. This seems to encourage Segasaki to continue talking.
“Back in university, you made me pork curry once when I was sick. You actually stole me away from my friends, took me home, tucked me into bed and bought a whole lot of drinks for me. Then you made me curry.” Segasaki chuckles, like he still can’t believe that years after the fact, someone made him curry of all things when he was sick. But behind the incredulity, there’s fondness, something Yoh doesn’t remember hearing in Segasaki when talking about him, even though Man-san kept saying that Segasaki was much more than fond of him. Yoh shuffles slightly towards him, letting the knees of his crossed legs fall on the calves of Segasaki’s also crossed legs. But this is not enough for Segasaki, so he stretches Yoh’s legs out, pulls him in until Yoh is sitting on his laps and then wraps Yoh’s legs around himself, refusing to disengage his head from Yoh’s shoulder in the process. And Yoh lets himself be unfolded, and rearranged closer to the other man, savouring the scent of the fabric softener he’d used on Segasaki’s clothes mingled with his scent.
Yoh recalls how, when Segasaki had woken up from his nap, he’d smiled as he chewed into the raw carrot that Yoh had thrown into the pot last minute, having forgotten to add them at the beginning. With every crunch, Yoh’s face had become redder, embarrassed at his poor cooking skills, while Segasaki smiled at him seemingly amused at the whole thing. He seemed to be enjoying the curry, however bad it was.
“I told you that I didn't know how to make anything else,” Yoh whines, tightening his arms around Segasaki’s shoulders. Segasaki snickers and kisses Yoh’s shoulder in response.
“Next time, I’ll make you pork curry. And...and when I do,” he breaks off, feeling his cheeks become hot with embarrassment because of what he is about to say. “When I make it, tell me that I did well.”
Segasaki finally moves away from Yoh’s shoulder and takes Yoh’s face in both hands, and plants a soft kiss on Yoh’s lips. “Okay,” he whispers, lips brushing on Yoh’s. Segasaki’s response and his soft lips elicit a quiet moan and shiver from Yoh. Segasaki smiles, then kisses him, all gentility forgotten. His lips crush Yoh’s, tongue bullying its way into his mouth. And Yoh is pliant, opening his mouth and letting Segasaki’s tongue run wild, pressing his body on Segasaki’s. Just when Segasaki is slipping a hand under his shirt, caressing the sensitive sides of his torso, Yoh not only hears but feels the grumbling of Segasaki’s stomach. They break their kiss for Yoh to laugh and for Segasaki to groan in embarrassment.
“You didn’t feed me today, you know,” Segasaki grimaces, faking a pout.
“I made you curry like you asked.” Yoh kisses Segasaki’s neck and gets off of his lap. “Come. I’ll warm it for you.”
Segasaki takes Yoh’s hand, and with no help from Yoh, lifts himself up. He allows Yoh to lead him to the dining table and sit him down. He watches as Yoh takes the plates of cold food to the kitchen, warms them in the microwave and brings them back to the table.
Anxiety rears its ugly head as Segasaki takes his first bite, and it hurts a little when he asks for sauce, saying the curry was too sweet. But all that doesn’t matter, because Segasaki is smiling throughout the meal, and he eats the curry like it is delicious. When he stands to take his plate to the kitchen, he pats Yoh on the head and says, “You did well, Yoh. It was just what I needed.”