Chapter Text
Kiyotaka has an interesting way of eating his food. Mondo observed this on their first date, and even though it’s become more and more familiar to him as all the dates have gone by, after two years worth of dates and not-dates and an increasing amount of time spent together, it’s still a marvel to the former gang-leader the way that his boyfriend eats.
Once, when Mondo’s friend (friend?) Yasuhiro got incredibly wasted, he went off on a long, mostly incoherent rant about how you can tell a lot about a person by the way that they eat. Most of it sounded like it came, verbatim, from the lips of Junko Enoshima, (who is not Mondo’s friend, FYI, because she’s a bitch and Mondo doesn’t hit women but for fuck’s sake ) but he had to admit at the time that Hiro had a point. He definitely makes more sense when he’s drunk.
The gist of Hiro’s primarily incomprehensible rant was this: some people save their favourite parts of the meal for later, suggesting that they like to postpone satisfaction until they have gotten through the knitty gritty; some people eat their favourite parts first, suggesting that they have absolutely no self control and prefer pleasure immediately rather than in the long-term, and there are some who eat all parts of the meal intermittently, liking to get a little bit of their favourite parts and their least favourite parts in every bite, because they apparently like life the way it is. A little bit of good, and a little bit of bad.
To Mondo, that’s all a lot of pointless insight and he doesn’t have time for it, because there are more important things for him to be doing, but there is some value in what Hiro shared. Mostly, it gives him something to think about as his lovable boyfriend separates the prawns from the vegetables and the rice before dutifully beginning to eat his vegetables first. It’s a silly way of doing things, because Taka has never had much of a huge appetite, so he always gets full before he can even taste a little bit of his favourite part of the meal, but it doesn’t mean that Mondo is any less endeared to it.
He is, of course, only thinking about this right now so that he can avoid thinking about other, anxiety-inducing things. Because it would be totally not manly if he just randomly started having a panic attack halfway through his takoyaki. Mondo doesn’t even get panic attacks. But he might start, if he doesn’t distract himself.
Taka’s red eyes lift from his food, perhaps wondering what his boyfriend is thinking, and suddenly Mondo has been caught staring. A little earlier into the relationship, this might have embarrassed either one of them, but after two years of open communication and time spent familiarising themselves with each other’s quirks and weird habits, all this serves to do is get Kiyotaka to beam at Mondo, eyebrows raising slightly. It’s not much of a different smile than the one he always gives to everybody, but Mondo has seen enough versions of it to tell that this one is a little more coy than his straight-forward lover would offer one of their friends.
Which means that Mondo should definitely say something now. “Enjoying your food?” He blurts, then curses himself, because that’s the kind of shit you ask on the first date when you don’t know each other, not to your boyfriend of two years who you’re trying to work up the courage to-
“Yes! The chef did very well with seasoning this. Usually this dish is too spicy for me, but I’m enjoying it rather a lot!” But, of course, Kiyotaka has never been the sort to poke fun at those sorts of blunders. Mondo feels a super-unmanly and also super-welcomed surge of warmth in his chest and nods as though he was absolutely fishing for that answer to begin with and he was not thinking about other things because- get your crap together, Owada. “How about you? You’ve barely touched your food; are you feeling alright?” When Taka frowns, a slight crease appears between his eyebrows. “We can skip the movie tonight if you’re tired or nauseous and just cuddle at home.”
Well, that sounds very tempting, but Mondo figures that the nausea he’s currently experiencing is circumstantial and probably won’t get better even if he does decide to go home in lieu of watching The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part. So he shakes his head, grinning. “Nah, my food is great. I like takoyaki almost as much as I enjoy Takayaki, y’know?” This sort of humour, at the dinner table especially, would usually earn him a swat to the arm, but now Taka just snorts, shaking his head.
“There is a time and a place, Mondo.” Still, he says it with a smile on his face, so it’s hard for Mondo to take the admonishment seriously, and he chuckles. Taka, who is attempting a reproachful glare, (despite the blush on his face and the laugher in his eyes) eventually lets his expression relax and rolls his pretty red eyes, reaching out across the table to take Mondo’s hand.
There was a time, early in their relationship, where Mondo was the only person who felt comfortable enough to make moves like that in public. Kiyotaka had been embarrassed to be open about his feelings, and he didn’t want to do coupley things in a place where other people could see them, but now they’ve talked about it many times over, and they’ve been dating for two years, and Mondo just… he feels so much emotion, suddenly, knowing that his boyfriend feels safe enough around him to do things like hold his hand. It’s such a small gesture, but they’ve come such a long way, and… the anxiety doesn’t disappear, exactly, but he knows, he knows that it’s the right time.
Still, he’s not really sure how to start it off. Some people come up with a whole speech beforehand, but Mondo hasn’t done this before, and he didn’t want to be a fake motherfucker and give Taka some hallmark speech about being soulmates and being together forever because there’s no way that he’s going to know what the future looks like, but… still, he wants to say something. Something meaningful. Something other than the obligatory. Because if nothing else, Kiyotaka Ishimaru deserves more than the obligatory.
“Hey, we’ve been through a lot, huh?” Mondo manages to force himself to say through the block in his throat. Taka, who has been spacing off with his gaze fixed on his boyfriend’s face, snaps to attention, eyes alert.
“We have!” He agrees brightly, smiling that same, easy, sincere smile that he’s always too willing to give away. “It’s hard to believe just how much has happened since high school.”
Mondo clears his throat, taking a deep breath like Makoto told him to do when he gets nervous. (He isn’t sure if it helps or not.) “And uh, we’ve spent a lot of it together. Apart from that brief stint in the beginning when we didn’t like each other.” Taka chuckles at the memory, and Mondo smiles at the sound, feeling something tickle his heart at the way that his boyfriend’s eyes light up with his smile. “You know, in the beginning of high school, I wasn’t sure that I was going to get through it.”
“You would’ve been able to.” Kiyotaka procclaims immediately, and squeezes Mondo’s hand. “You’re strong enough, and you were then, too.”
“Oh, maybe.” Mondo doesn’t think so, because he wasn’t, at least, he wouldn’t have been without Taka. “But I think I would’ve been right had you not become my friend. I didn’t even realise it for a couple years, but I think I was in love with you the whole time.” They’ve said it before, the Big L Word, but when he says it, Taka’s eyes widen anyway, and his cheeks tint slightly red. Mondo hurries to continue, before he can lose his nerve. “I dunno, Taka. There’s been so much shit, and I’m sorry to cuss right now, but it’s true. It’s been scary. Still is kinda scary, sometimes. I mean, you don’t just suddenly stop being a member of a motorcycle gang, y’know? That sorta thing takes guts and I wouldn’t have had them without you.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” frowning, Taka starts to protest, but Mondo has to cut him off because he’s not going to say it if his lover keeps talking.
“Maybe I would’ve had the strength without ya, but,” he hesitates. “I don’t want to have the strength to carry on without you. Maybe it’s a fucked up mindset but spending the rest of my life being entirely dependent on your presence by my side, and relying on you and you relying on me and us working through shit together? That sounds ideal.” There is a box burning a hole in Mondo’s pocket, begging to be taken out, but first he looks at his boyfriend, because he has to see what’s going through his head right now.
Taka’s eyes are bright and his expression is flabbergasted, but it’s hard for Mondo to get a read on whether or not he’s figured out what’s happening yet. If he had to guess what his boyfriend is feeling, it would probably be that weird anticipation and hopefulness you get when something you really want might be happening but you aren’t sure and you don’t want to just convince yourself of it because you don’t want to get your hopes up but maybe there’s a chance. Maybe, it’s what you so badly want it to be. And if that’s really what Taka is feeling… Mondo hopes he doesn’t disappoint.
Even though he’s reluctant to do so, he releases Taka’s hand and gets to his feet, moving around the table so that he’s standing right in front of his boyfriend’s seat. When they’re both standing, Mondo is already about five inches taller than Kiyotaka, but when he’s standing and Taka is sitting, he has to tilt his head down a little bit to look at him. That’s not how things are supposed to be, in his opinion. Kiyotaka is the beam of light, the one who is worth looking up to. Always, in Mondo’s opinion, he should be looking up at him. And, if Taka will let him… he’d like to be looking up at him forever.
Mondo drops to one knee, and it could be more graceful but he doesn’t care, because so many things in their lives and in their relationship could be more graceful but they aren’t and they turn out all the more beautiful as a result. So he doesn’t hesitate pulling the small black box from his pocket. He’s been waiting to do this for so long. Preparing. Thinking. Debating with himself. He’s not sure what the future holds, obviously, and he’s never been, but right here, right now? This is exactly how things are supposed to be. Where he is supposed to be. And that’s what hope is.
“Kiyotaka Ishimaru,” Mondo clears his throat, trying not to tear up or something stupid as he opens the box and reveals the ring inside. “Will you marry me?”
There’s a moment of silence, because Taka has his hands over his mouth and his eyes are wide and swimming with tears and disbelieve and Mondo wants so badly to embrace him because he’s his boyfriend and watching his boyfriend cry just doesn’t sit well with him but he waits because he needs to give Taka time to recover, and decide what he wants.
Then the moment is over, and Kiyotaka lowers his hands, and tears fall from his eyes but he’s smiling so big, so sincere, and when he opens his mouth, Mondo thinks the word in his head just as Taka says it.
“Yes. Gosh, Mondo-” Gosh. He doesn’t even say God. Mondo hopes Taka never changes. “Yes. I will marry you. I-” he lets out a sob, and Mondo lets himself reach out for him, cupping his boyfriend(fiance?)’s cheek with one hand. “I love you.”
There isn’t a word that exists that can truly convey what Mondo feels, but he surges forward and closes the gap between them, kissing Taka and hoping that his body can express what his words can’t. He’s always been bad with words. And based on the way that Taka ignores that they’re in public, returning the kiss and pulling Mondo closer, he’s pretty sure that it works just fine.