Something was wrong here, really wrong here. Hakuba wouldn’t have
done something like that, not with so many people watching. What if someone recognized them? O0r more importantly, Hakuba? He really didn’t care, if it pissed his dad off, well, his dad could suck it up. His wasn’t responsible for his father, and his father wasn’t responsible for him.
Even if that was childish to think.
When the waiter came back, Hattori ignored the food being place, instead he dug around in his back pocket. When he saw Hakuba, he put down a wad of money – probably more then necessary, but he didn’t really care at the moment.
“Give tha food ta someone who looks like they need it.” Hattori said and grabbed Hakuba by the upper arm, pulling him out of the restaurant. Once they were a bit away he pulled him into a nearby ally and finally let him gone, frown on his face.
“Wha tha hell is up with ya?” He demanded, voice shaky.
“But-” Hakuba’s confused protests were strangled as he was dragged. “My udon!” The steaming bowls of fresh food disappeared from sight as the half-brit made little attempt to struggle. So much for a quiet dinner with a friend-or-more.
“Hattori, why?" he whined, or had started to when the Osakan finally let go of him. "Up with me? I could ask the same question of you! What is up with you? We were just about to eat. I was treating you to dinner. We were finally having a lovely time together and now we’re out in this dirty old alley with no food and…” Hakuba frowned, glancing down at his sleeve. “You’ve wrinkled my suit, Hattori. Really, I hardly find that appropriate.”
…then again, there were several potentially inappropriate things about the scene that the blonde detective was just beginning to notice. Alleyway. Dimly lit. Privacy. Close proximity. Hakuba blinked, looking Heiji over again quietly a moment. He let his eyes half close, confusion melting away to something else – curiosity? Interest? No… desire.
He stepped closer to him, expression nothing if not coy.
