Remixed from this fill by kiriska as prompted by doxian, blanket permission has been given!
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Aoyagi loads his plate heavy enough from the buffet that when he sets it down on the table the weight of the food makes an audible impact against the wood.
"You think you got enough there?" Tadokoro asks with a grin, even as he lifts a drumstick to his mouth with his fingers wrapped firmly around the bone. His own plate is equally stuffed.
Aoyagi shrugs, sliding onto the other half of the booth. He always loves going for lunch or dinner with Tadokoro, and it's no mystery how much Tadokoro eats. Tadokoro is big, and broad, and intimidating. If Aoyagi wants other racers to respect him on the road, he needs to channel some of that. It doesn't feel like so bad a place to start, by imitating the way Tadokoro feasts on his meals.
Tadokoro just shakes his head at Aoyagi's minimal reply, settling back against his seat. Aoyagi offers him a little slice of a smile in thanks, and picks up the first of several sandwich slices he's piled onto his plate. The spicy mayonnaise spread onto the bread hits his tongue as soon as he takes a bite.
"Good, right?" Tadokoro asks. "Their bread might not be as great as at my family's place, but these guys know a thing or two about how to make filling food."
"Yeah," Aoyagi says, once he's swallowed. "It's really good."
Almost too good, he finds, as he works his way through everything he's heaped on his plate. Sandwiches give way to vegetables, potatoes, to boiled fish and pickles and thick slices of the ham Aoyagi knows Tadokoro loves. Everything is delicious, and just as filling as Tadokoro promised. Aoyagi's stomach starts to ache, by the time he's looking down at the last chunks of meat and vegetables lingering on his plate.
He stares down at his unfinished meal with a growing feeling of despair.
"C'mon, let's go pay," Tadokoro says, cutting into Aoyagi's thoughts. He hefts himself up from his seat, before dropping his palm to rest heavily on Aoyagi's shoulder.
"But..." Aoyagi starts to say, trailing off when he isn't certain where he was going. "I haven't finished."
"What, you're still hungry, even after all of that?" Tadokoro asks, incredulous.
Aoyagi isn't. Tadokoro could have placed his favorite dessert before him, and he would push it away in defeat. But that's how it feels — like he's been defeated.
"You ate more than that," is what Aoyagi says.
"And I'm a bigger guy than you," Tadokoro says, shrugging.
Aoyagi is silent. He's still staring at his plate, at what hardly constitutes more than three bites of food, and which is nevertheless too much for him to overcome. Tadokoro's palm against his shoulder is too warm, is heavy enough to begin to feel like a crushing weight.
"You don't have to be big," Tadokoro says, like it's just hit him what the problem is. "You're not... There's more to this than how much you can eat."
Aoyagi tilts his chin up, looking into Tadokoro's face. Tadokoro flashes him a toothy grin. "You wanna be a tough guy," he says, "all there is to it is acting tough. If you've got it in here, everybody's gonna know that you're fierce."
He thumps his chest twice with his fist, right over his heart. Aoyagi finds himself cracking a grin. As Tadokoro's other hand slides from his shoulder, he pushes himself to rise from his seat.
"Yeah," Aoyagi says, as Tadokoro slings an arm across his shoulders, pulling Aoyagi in against his side. "Yeah, I can do that."
FILL: TEAM FUKUTOMI JUICHI/KINJOU SHINGO, G
Word Count: 596
Remixed from this fill by
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Aoyagi loads his plate heavy enough from the buffet that when he sets it down on the table the weight of the food makes an audible impact against the wood.
"You think you got enough there?" Tadokoro asks with a grin, even as he lifts a drumstick to his mouth with his fingers wrapped firmly around the bone. His own plate is equally stuffed.
Aoyagi shrugs, sliding onto the other half of the booth. He always loves going for lunch or dinner with Tadokoro, and it's no mystery how much Tadokoro eats. Tadokoro is big, and broad, and intimidating. If Aoyagi wants other racers to respect him on the road, he needs to channel some of that. It doesn't feel like so bad a place to start, by imitating the way Tadokoro feasts on his meals.
Tadokoro just shakes his head at Aoyagi's minimal reply, settling back against his seat. Aoyagi offers him a little slice of a smile in thanks, and picks up the first of several sandwich slices he's piled onto his plate. The spicy mayonnaise spread onto the bread hits his tongue as soon as he takes a bite.
"Good, right?" Tadokoro asks. "Their bread might not be as great as at my family's place, but these guys know a thing or two about how to make filling food."
"Yeah," Aoyagi says, once he's swallowed. "It's really good."
Almost too good, he finds, as he works his way through everything he's heaped on his plate. Sandwiches give way to vegetables, potatoes, to boiled fish and pickles and thick slices of the ham Aoyagi knows Tadokoro loves. Everything is delicious, and just as filling as Tadokoro promised. Aoyagi's stomach starts to ache, by the time he's looking down at the last chunks of meat and vegetables lingering on his plate.
He stares down at his unfinished meal with a growing feeling of despair.
"C'mon, let's go pay," Tadokoro says, cutting into Aoyagi's thoughts. He hefts himself up from his seat, before dropping his palm to rest heavily on Aoyagi's shoulder.
"But..." Aoyagi starts to say, trailing off when he isn't certain where he was going. "I haven't finished."
"What, you're still hungry, even after all of that?" Tadokoro asks, incredulous.
Aoyagi isn't. Tadokoro could have placed his favorite dessert before him, and he would push it away in defeat. But that's how it feels — like he's been defeated.
"You ate more than that," is what Aoyagi says.
"And I'm a bigger guy than you," Tadokoro says, shrugging.
Aoyagi is silent. He's still staring at his plate, at what hardly constitutes more than three bites of food, and which is nevertheless too much for him to overcome. Tadokoro's palm against his shoulder is too warm, is heavy enough to begin to feel like a crushing weight.
"You don't have to be big," Tadokoro says, like it's just hit him what the problem is. "You're not... There's more to this than how much you can eat."
Aoyagi tilts his chin up, looking into Tadokoro's face. Tadokoro flashes him a toothy grin. "You wanna be a tough guy," he says, "all there is to it is acting tough. If you've got it in here, everybody's gonna know that you're fierce."
He thumps his chest twice with his fist, right over his heart. Aoyagi finds himself cracking a grin. As Tadokoro's other hand slides from his shoulder, he pushes himself to rise from his seat.
"Yeah," Aoyagi says, as Tadokoro slings an arm across his shoulders, pulling Aoyagi in against his side. "Yeah, I can do that."