prompt 24: "you owe me a kiss" ?
There's someone leaning on the table next to Kon.
Approaching from the bar, Tim can't see his face, but the too-casual-to-be-casual pose, the posturing, the flirty gestures... The way he's leaning down over Kon as Kon sits, saving the table for Tim to get back...
Tim's eyes narrow. Kon's a snack at any given time, to be sure (and especially tonight, in that tight-fitting top and tiny little skirt), but seriously? Hitting on him when Tim is right here?
"—flattered, but I'm here with someone," Kon says, smiling politely. "Have a nice night, though!"
"Aw, come on," the dude cajoles. Tim mentally rebrands him as That Fucking Guy. His disdain mounts. "Oldest line in the book, babe! I don't see anyone here with you. You sure you don't wanna—"
Maybe it's rude, but whatever. Tim intentionally shoves past That Fucking Guy a bit roughly. Frankly, he should count himself grateful Tim doesn't "accidentally" dump a beer all over him.
"Oops!" he says with venomously false cheer. "Didn't see you there. Here, angel, I got you your raspberry mojito."
He sets the glass down in front of Kon, slips his arm around his shoulders, and shamelessly leans down to kiss him. Overkill? Maybe, but it's viciously satisfying to shut That Fucking Guy down so dramatically. Serves him right for not taking the first no as an answer.
Besides, Kon is all Tim's. Hmph. Who does that guy even think he is?
When he draws back, Kon grins at him, eyes dancing. That Fucking Guy is staring awkwardly at them both.
"Told you I'm here with someone," Kon says, and tugs Tim down into his lap. He's about to say something polite to dismiss the guy, but Tim cuts in.
"He's mine," Tim informs him, staring daggers. He offers a smile that's all teeth. "Also, next time someone says 'no', you should maybe consider backing off. Just food for thought!"
"Jesus, okay, I get it, sorry," That Fucking Guy mutters, thoroughly ashamed. Tim watches with vindictive satisfaction as he turns tail and flees back towards the bar.
Kon hooks his chin over his shoulder, grinning. His cheeks are pink. "Ooh," he giggles. "I'm yours, Mister Drake? Am I all yours and only yours?"
Tim swivels to pin him with what he hopes is an unimpressed stare. He has a feeling he's off by several orders of magnitude. (Can't blame him when Kon's sitting here giggling so cutely while dressed like that, okay? Cute and hot at the same time is a deadly combination.)
"Yes," Tim says. "You are."
Kon's flush darkens, his cheeks visibly rosy even in the dimness. "...Yeah." He grins, buries his face in Tim's neck, and then giggles again. His nose bumps Tim's collarbone. "I love when you go full bitch mode at people," he teases; Tim can feel the curve of his smiling mouth against his neck. "Don't tell me you're jealous. You know you're my one and only."
"I know," Tim assures him. Something warm settles deep into his chest. He rubs his thumb over the fuzzy shaved hair at the base of Kon's head, and Kon hums. "It's not jealousy. I just think everyone else should know, too."
Kon laughs outright. Then he lifts his head, his eyes dancing as he meets Tim's gaze. His lipstick is slightly smudged, the glitter on his cheeks glimmering in the low light. "You owe me a kiss."
Tim raises an eyebrow. "I just gave you one." A pause. "Not that I'm opposed to more. But why do I owe you?"
"You left me to sit here all alone, guarding our table." Kon brushes his nose against Tim's. "You owe me for the trouble and heartache. You left me all alone on date night..."
"What, valiantly rescuing you from That Fucking Guy wasn't enough?" Tim asks. His hand curves along Kon's jaw.
Kon snorts. "You named him that in your head, didn't you?"
Tim wisely says nothing.
"He said his name was Bradley," Kon informs him.
"Angel," Tim says, cradling Kon's cheek in his palm. Kon leans into his touch, eyes closing in bliss. "I don't give a singular shit."
Kon lets out another peal of gorgeous laughter. "Yeah," he says, as Tim leans in. "I know."
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The thing is. Bad/gross food is rarely a DISH - when food is bad it's because it's been badly made, whether because of skills or available ingredients. but a dish p much only exists recognisably and has a name because someone likes at least one version of it.
which is to say. there isn't really a way of naming a dish, school of dishes or specific food culture and going EW ISN'T THIS DISH UNILATERALLY CONCEPTUALLY DISGUSTING without denigrating quite a lot of people.
like you don't have to like it in any form. but it's eaten and shared because it's good to a not insubstantial number of people when cooked right.
(and I don't really understand how you approach that with total incuriosity when it's a dish you haven't tried like. ARE rocky mountain oysters good? Maybe! I would very much eat some to find out!!!!)
this is actually something the British food poll did in a way the American ones I've seen haven't really - they described how the food they're imagining is, specifically, badly prepared (grey meat and veggies; unseasoned shepherd's pie). which is wildly tipping the scales by calling it British Food but. like. that is an on point definition of why that food is gross.
(this also applies to American chocolate, which like. Broad category but I think most of us understand this refers to low-cocoa high-sugar chocolate, probably with bucolic acid. so we are being invited to imagine Badly Made Chocolate not. the concept of chocolate)
personally I just think it's very rarely a good or funny idea to shittalk how gross any given food culture is. partly because food is important and culturally evocative for most people, partly because it's very...alienating? to be like WHO COULD EAT SUCH A THING? just because you wouldn't, and largely because to be frank it says more about you than about the food that you have so little imagination or curiosity that you can't imagine why a food might be enjoyable to folks who aren't you.
yes this includes jello salad, I would like to try it. ONCE. if it wasn't appealing to someone it wouldn't be so widespread.
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