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Vincent was already half-way into the house before slinging off his coat, not even bothering to put it onto the rack.
He slammed the door shut once he was inside fully, slinging off his shoes in a less than elegant manner. Vincent Edgeworth was pretty irritated this evening. Not even the sight of one of his cats was enough to cheer him up.
He walked past the living room where his partner was currently, ignoring his greetings and surprise when he did not respond to him. He heard the man's footsteps approach him from behind, but he did not turn. He only stopped when he felt cold hands on his waist, making him pause in his tracks.
"Got somewhere to be, my dear? You didn't even say hello." He spoke, his beard tickling Vincent's neck as he nuzzled against it.
Vincent, however, was not feeling it. Or, rather, he was, but chose not to show it. He moved away, finally turning to face Victor. The disdain on his face was evident. "I am not in the mood, Blake."
"I can see that much. You look more sour than usual!" That earned a jab in the side from the taller one. He did not mind though; he couldn't mind when Vincent looked most adorable! "Would you like to talk about it, dearest? Perhaps... over steak dinner?"
That seemed to catch his attention. He was pretty hungry... He hadn't eaten all day, which was part of the reason why he was feeling irritable. The idea of a nice, juicy steak dinner to calm his nerves did sound very inviting. And it was prepared by his Victor? That doesn't sound too bad...
"Ah! That face tells me you're interested!~" The red-haired man smirked with amusement. He turned Vincent around again, leading the way to the kitchen as metallic hands massaged his beloved's shoulders. "Worry not, Vincent. I assure you, this dinner will blow your socks off! You'll forget all about being upset."
Vincent eased a bit, both from the massage and the idea of food. He was no stranger to Victor's cooking. During their time at RMU, Victor would cook dishes for the both of them without asking. Even though it was mostly noodles of varying kinds sometimes, the gesture itself was sweet
It was part of the reason why he fell for him. He could excuse his annoying personality and whatever he called 'charm', because his beauty and thoughtfulness made up for it all. They definitely had their ups and downs at the beginning of their relationship though. From arguments that left them going to bed upset with one another, to cuddling sweetly like nothing bad had ever happened to them, to even having their own child.
Even at this point in time, where Victor's accident left him with not only new arms, but eyes as well. They're still together despite all that tried to pull them apart.
Vincent was pulled out of his thoughts as he made contact with one of the kitchen chairs. That's right... Victor made him a meal, didn't he?
"Okay, Vinny! Are you ready to have your taste buds melted away from the deliciousness of the meal I prepared for you?"
"Please just bring it out. I am starving."
Victor walked off with a chuckle that Vincent adored a bit too much. He could feel his mouth watering a bit at the thought of eating... He heard the microwave click, following with the sounds of footsteps coming his way once more. Wait, microwave? For what reason was his food in the microwave? If he were to warm it up, could he not use the oven?
When Victor sat down his plate, he looked like he was about to flip the entire table.
"...Is this a joke?"
"Of course not! Tada!~ Your steak dinner! Prepared by yours truly!"
What was on his plate was not the T-bone steak he was expecting from his partner. No, what was on his plate was a Salsbury steak and mashed potatoes TV dinner. The steak was covered in some sort of gravy with the potatoes also smothered in it.
Vincent poked at the "food" with his fork. Not only did the texture feel off, but the thing wasn't even properly heated! He could feel the slight hardness of the steak, even seeing some frost on the potatoes. He gripped his fork so hard, he swore he felt it bend.
"...Victor. Not only am I not consuming this, but I also have half a mind to dump this onto the floor and make you eat it yourself." He spoke with barely contained anger. His appetite? Gone in seconds. His patience? Thin.
The other man shivered both at the thought and cold stare his lover gave him. He chuckled nervously, moving behind him to massage his shoulders once more. What do you mean he was trying to get away from the glare? No, he wasn't. "Ahaha... My dear, you sure are pent up, aren't you? Let's talk about why you're so irritated today, hm?"
He was trying to weasel his way out of this. He was no fool. But...perhaps talking about it will make it feel worse than it is. Or at least, that's how Albert phrased it.
"...Okay. Well... When I arrived at work this morning, I found heaps of paperwork on my desk from Mr. Myers. He even had the nerve to put a stupid note next it that read: "you forgot these after last week's case! get them done by Tuesday. xx"! And the thing is, THAT WASN'T EVEN MY PAPERWORK!!! He just wanted me to do it for him! Can you believe it?!"
Vincent ranted with nothing but frustration. Victor nodded along, feeling his anger switch from him back to his terrible day. "Mhm, mhm. You sound like you had a very harsh day, my love..."
"Harsh is an understatement." He grumbled, sinking into Victor's touch. "And then, during my lunch break, I had to deal with an angry client! They got upset because of prices, which I told them about by the way! Apparently, they lost it to gambling or something... I informed them that it is illegal in this district, and you know what they did??"
"...What?"
"They knocked over the paperwork Mr. Myers gave to me, and I had to sort them all out again! The nerve of some people!!"
It was Victor's turn to feel the frustration now. His hands tightened around Vincent's shoulders, easing when he heard a wince coming from him. "Sorry! I just...feel angry for you. Did they catch them?" He asked after rubbing the shoulders and sitting next to his distressed lover.
"Yes, they have. And they better have a damn good defense attorney." Vincent spoke, resting his head on his hand as he looked at Victor. "And then, I didn't have a chance to eat all day since I missed by lunch break due to sorting those papers..." He sat up slowly, turning to face the cursed TV dinner again. "...And then you decided to try and feed me this." His voice lowered once more, his ice-cold glare being put back onto Victor.
Victor stiffened under the gaze. He let out another chuckle, feeling stuck in place. The massage technique was not going to work again, he knew that much. So how could he get out of this alive?
"...Will dessert make up for it?"
Dessert? Now that he couldn't have possibly messed up! Victor was amazing at making desserts! If he somehow flubbed this up, Vincent doesn't know what he'd do to him. "Dessert, you say. Like what?"
"Maybe some... cookies?" He spoke smugly, already standing to retrieve them. "Sit here, Niña pequeña, while I fetch you your wonderful snack."
"If you come back with anything but that, I'll serve your head on a platter..." He muttered to himself as he waited.
He was getting impatient with the lack of food in his stomach, and the sight of the TV dinner did not help. He would have knocked it off the table already like a cat wanting attention had he not had some sense of decorum left. His foot tapped against the floors and his thumb drummed on the table. Normally, he'd find this kind of noise annoying. But he himself is doing it, so it isn't.
Victor came around the corner, back into the kitchen with his hands behind his back. "So, liebe, ready to-"
"Cookies, Victor."
The man closed his eyes, smile strained, like he knew he was done for. "...Of course." He spoke. Slowly, his hands moved from behind his back, revealing two cookies. Were they baked by him? No. They were Oreos. Oreos! And not only that, but they were the mint flavor! Victor was right to be anxious.
"...Victor. What the hell is this."
"Why, cookies!"
"...If you are not out of my face in the next five seconds..." He didn't finish. He didn't have to. Victor fled before he finished the sentence, suddenly very interested in checking on the cats.
"...I need a drink..."