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Summary
“The food tastes great,” Yasuhiro says suddenly, voice heavy, but heart and mind light. “Really good.”
Takemichi smiles. It’s a little knowing, and Yasuhiro can’t decide if he wants to smile back or wipe it off Takemichi’s face.
“I’m glad,” Takemichi says. “That’s nice to hear. Though the mess you made works too.”
Yasuhiro knows he’s heating up; he can’t deny that. Shit. But he sure hopes it doesn’t show.
Takemichi’s snorting laughter tells him otherwise. Fuck. Maybe it does.
He’s lucky he looks cute while doing that.
Yasuhiro doesn't like sweets but he sure likes the Saturdays he spends in Takemichi's bakery, even if most of his products are way too sweet for him. But after an annoying peach, some words from his vice-captain, and some months later, he thinks he can reconsider his stance on sweets as a whole.Or: how Yasuhiro's dislike for sweets bring him to what may be the sweetest thing in his life yet—and he doesn't even realize it.
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