Implied sexual content
Word count: 965
((these goddamn dorks.))

For all the good he was, Sugawara Koushi could not be timely to save his life.

This took Daichi by surprise, seeing as Koushi was always the one harping on their teammates to get to practice early in the morning, or to make sure they were on the bus that would take them to their game match or else they'd be left behind. But, as the dynamics of their romantic relationship panned out, Daichi soon discovered that volleyball was the only thing for which Koushi could be on time.

He'd been waiting around at the front of the diner for a solid twenty minutes before he spotted Koushi running around the corner, waving to him with flushed cheeks and sweat on his forehead. From how well put-together his outfit was, though, Daichi didn't think it was just because he'd lost track of time.

"Sorry, sorry!" Koushi apologized, wrapping his arms around Daichi in a tight hug. "I got held up because my mother called." Daichi felt like calling him on his bluff just to tease him, but Koushi kissed his cheek and the thought fled his mind. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Only around five minutes." He wrapped his arm around Koushi's shoulders and led him up the stairs to the front door. "Did you have enough time to start thinking about what you want to eat?"
"Stop teasing, you're barely any better."

The hostess greeted them and sat them down at a booth in the far corner of the diner. Daichi liked this spot best: they were right next to the big windows that looked out upon the busy intersection, and no one else was around for at least a couple of tables. They could talk about the things they liked without fear of judgment from the prissy old couples that always managed to worm their way into their conversations. So what if Daichi thought dinnertime was a good time for a debate over whether cherry-flavored or grape-flavored condoms tasted worse? Koushi didn't mind, so that's all that mattered.

Daichi eyed the menu as Koushi opened it on the breakfast page. "We're getting dinner."
"I know that," Koushi replied, aiming him a pointed look. "But sometimes they have omelets that make for good dinners."
"Koushi." Daichi leaned over and flipped the menu to the back two pages. "I'm trying to make our lives easier. Also, I have plans for later that don't include hanging out at a diner all night."
"Oh?" Koushi crooned, leaning his chin in his hand. "Do tell."
"That's all you need to know." Daichi crossed one leg over the other under the table and flipped through his menu. "Just that I have plans. For later."
"Now you've got me curious, though." Koushi grinned. "Can you give me a hint?"
Daichi considered the idea. "If you can order a drink and an appetizer in less than half an hour, I'll give you a hint."

Twenty-eight minutes later, Koushi decided on an iced tea and a plate of chicken wings to start. Their waiter could tell already that they were going to take a long time. This was why Daichi always brought extra cash so he could tip at least 20%. They got their drinks soon thereafter, and Daichi took a long sip of his cola.

"So, that hint."
Daichi continued to sip his drink.
"Honey, the hint. I didn't make an impulsive decision to get wings for nothing."
Daichi looked up at Koushi, not taking his lips from around the straw.
"You're not even sipping anymore." Koushi's grin widened as he laughed. "Is it something sexy?"
"... Yes."
"Oh." Koushi leaned in and traced circles into the back of Daichi's hand. He propped up his leg so he could rub Daichi's ankle under the table. "What kind of sexy?"
"Sorry, out of hints. If you order your entrée when the appetizer gets here, then I'll give you your other hint."
"Oh, c'mon."
Daichi chuckled. "I gotta find some way that'll get you to order faster."
Koushi gave him a light kick in the shin. "What an underhanded tactic. I ought to just leave after we eat so you have to go home alone."
"But you won't." Daichi stirred his straw in his cup. "So, how was work?"

Fifteen minutes later, the wings arrived. Koushi struggled with the menu as Daichi looked on with this shit-eating grin that he knew drove Koushi nuts. Then the waiter offered to read out the specials for the night. Daichi could've slapped him.
"We have clam chowder, futomaki with spicy mayonnaise..."
"Oh, that sounds good," Koushi said, accentuating every vowel to grate on Daichi's nerves. "Keep going, though."
"There's also a corn and bean salad with grilled chicken, seared tuna steak..."
Daichi sighed and put a few chicken wings on his plate. This was going to take another twenty minutes, he was sure.

Koushi didn't get anything from the specials; rather, he got a tuna salad sandwich. When the plate finally came – an hour and a half after they first came in, since Koushi had to "deliberate" for an additional twenty-five minutes after the waiter's second visit – Daichi covered his mouth with his hand and looked on with feigned interest.
"What?" Koushi asked, as if he had to.
"Nothing," Daichi laughed, "I just love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich."
Koushi hushed him. "And you got eggs Benedict, you hypocrite." He took out the toothpick in his sandwich and bit into it. "Can I still get that hint, since we're eating now?"
Daichi considered the idea. "Sure." He averted his gaze and tried to cover his eyes with his hand. "It involves rope."
Koushi nearly choked on his tuna salad.
"Oh my god."