There isn't enough work for these two, so I thought I would put in my own two cents.

Revised and Edited 10/21/15 (I feel like I've grown a bit as an author, so if you feel up to it, go ahead and read this again. I've changed most of it up to make a bit more sense. It's also much longer so that it's an actual story. A short one, but still.)

Artistic License for all the AU stuff.

Thank you to kyonkichi136 for the advice. I actually never watched the dubbed version (It wasn't out when I started the series and I prefer subbed on most of my anime anyways) but I did fall into that trap, simply because, at the time, I felt like I was watching a dubbed version with the characters still saying "-kun" instead of Mr. or Sir. I hate it when the dub creators do that, because it sounds off to me. Sorry if I tried to steer it too hard in the other direction.

Jun

The kitchen was warm, the afternoon sun lighting up the walls of the dining room outside. Soft chatter floated in from where customers sat and ate. I was folding over the edge of an omelette easily, glancing to where Souma was watching the fryer and slicing eggplant to be steamed.

Yachiyo came in with a set of empty plates, washing them quickly and giving me a subtle nudge that I ignored. The day was nearly over anyway; I just had a little more time before I could go home.

Instead of paying attention to the elbow in my back, I thought of Souma.

My eyes found the other man's back, tracing up his spine to his neck. Today he had a small white hair clip holding back his bangs. Something must've happened, since he was actually working. Usually he was loafing around getting the others to do his work, but today he was strangely quiet, focusing on his cooking.

He had a stubborn chin and a small white scar on his forehead. His eyes were angular, a deep blue, almost violet like the color of wine. To look at him, you might say he was a runner or a swimmer from the line of his body, but that was just a high metabolism and healthy food.

I let a breath of smoke go, making sure to blow it away from the food as I bit the cigarette and slid the omelette onto a warm plate. The small pot of ham stew simmered, keeping warm as I ladled a thick spoonful over the omelette, making sure a few vegetables made it too. Then I caught Souma's attention and put it on a tray. He nodded, the eggplant almost finished by now so he netted the tempura and let them drain of grease for a moment.

They settled nicely with everything and soon the tray was whisked out into the dining room. It was peaceful; not too busy but a brisk enough pace, and soon enough Inami was headed off with Takanashi, calling goodbye as the door shut.

I was in the walk-in when Yachiyo came in, grabbing the ice cream. She glanced to the door, cracking it before she whispered to me, "Jun, have you had a chance to talk to Souma-san yet? The concert is this weekend, after all."

I finished tallying up the vegetables and packets of fresh meat, murmuring, "Not yet. I don't think it's going to work after all, Yachiyo. I should just give the tickets to you and Manager."

She scowled and adjusted her katana before fixing me with a look, making sure I was looking back before she spoke.

"Now listen here, Jun. It's been almost three months since you asked for my help with this-" "Technically you blackmailed me until I stopped fighting your meddling." "-and I'm not going to see you waste everything that we've worked for! Man up and ask Souma-san already."

Apparently she correctly interpreted my look, and left me with one last whispered, "Just ask him!"

Alone in the fridge I just stared at the carrots in silence for a while, watching my breath puff out. The fan was blowing right over my head, and before too long I couldn't stand the shivers, tucking the clipboard under one arm and leaving the brightly lit walk-in. Souma was serving noodles onto a plate, his brow furrowed, eyes troubled.

I sighed and went over, taking the pan from him, and pushing him away.

"Wha-" he stammered, "Satou-kun?"

"Go sit down."

He hesitated but finally obeyed, going to the breakroom. I finished serving the food, making sure we had no more orders. Then I left the clipboard at my station, following him to the rear of the restaurant.

Standing in the doorframe for a moment, I could see that he was tired, massaging his scalp from the clip. His hair was all crinkled up in front from bending, and there were dark bangs under his eyes that I hadn't noticed before. Instead of asking though, I reached into my locker and grabbed the tickets that I'd planned to give away, along with some money. Buying a grape soda, I held it to his forehead and put the tickets on the table in front of him.

Then I left him alone, muttering, "It's Saturday at 9pm. I'll pick you up at your house at 7."

I'm not sure what I was thinking; all previous urges of insanity had stayed firmly under my control, but I suppose we've all gotta crack sometime. Besides, he looked like he could use some time to relax. If some embarrassment on my end could help, then I would just get it over with.

Then I might have to move.

Hiroomi

I started at the chill, sighing a little in relief as it helped to soothe the pounding headache that was pulsing behind my eyes.

Looking down as Satou-kun spoke, I stifled my surprise. Then my suspicious nature took over and I read them thoroughly even as the blonde left the room, the grape soda leaking condensation on the table.

They were just tickets to a concert, and my initial reaction took over again. Why was Satou-kun being so nice? Moreover, shouldn't he be asking Todoroki-san, not me? It was the worst-kept secret in the whole restaurant. Sipping the drink, I took a moment to calm down and think. If anything this was a blessing that shouldn't be questioned.

After all, I'd been having to rush back and forth to the store ever since my old man got back in town. Or rather, my stepfather. I couldn't stand him, and my mother was too oblivious to understand that he was a real asshole.

I just wouldn't go home Saturday. I was sure Satou-kun would let me stay over if I faked falling asleep in his car. Well…maybe not. Still, anything was better than listening to that old shit talk to his similarly old friends, red-faced with beer.

I was sick of it all. This was just what I needed, so I decided not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, and tucked one ticket in Satou-kun's locker, the other in mine.

Maybe it would be fun to get out and about with the quiet blonde. We'd never really hung out outside of work before, but he wasn't a bad guy. Rather, he was…nice. Clearing my throat, I pushed that confusing thought away and went back to work.

Yachiyo

I peeked around the corner, taking a moment from watching over Kyouko to check on Satou-kun. He was just coming out of the breakroom, and the look on his face had me concerned. Telling Kyouko I would be right back, I hurried after him, catching him at the sink as he picked up his stock clipboard.

"Jun? Are you alright? You look pale," I whispered, touching his wrist gently. He jerked, glancing past me, and I turned to see Souma-san coming into the kitchen. He stopped, took in my hand on Jun's arm, and blinked, going over to his own station.

I winced, taking my hand away. After all of our work…Souma-san probably still thought Jun liked me, and it was frustrating to not be able to just tell him. I had weaseled the information out of a drunk Jun months ago and hadn't wasted a moment in my pursuit to help him, but it felt like every step forward was two steps back.

Part of me thought I should just let things happen on their own, but who knows how long things had already been at a standstill, and it was obvious that it was hurting Jun. Not to mention how much Souma-san was oblivious to, and how much happier Jun could make him. It was kind of obvious if you thought about it.

Still, I hadn't had a plan as good as the concert yet, so I was praying that Jun could work up his bravery soon. Then I caught his eye and he nodded a little. Finally!

I gripped the hilt of my katana tightly in excitement, suppressing my smile. I wanted to grin until my face hurt. Heck, my face hurt just making sure I didn't grin.

Now…I felt my smile fade, and peered at my friend. Now I just had to make sure the big guy didn't mess this up. Kyouko called to me and I turned, giving the blonde thumbs up anyways. I would find a way to help him, even if he thought he didn't want my help.

Besides, they'll be disgustingly sweet together, I thought determinedly, taking the chocolate syrup back with me.

Saturday 6:00pm - Jun

I felt so creepy.

Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I breathed out smoke, focused on the house across the road. I was turning into a freaking weirdo. I was an hour early, and I had forced this on him to begin with. I would be lucky if Souma even remembered the concert.

Sighing, I got out, walking across the street. Just as I was about to walk up to his house, the door slammed open, Souma stomping out. He had a red face and gritted teeth, and he turned quickly, yelling, "Yeah, that right, you old shit? Fine! See if I ever come back!"

He had almost passed me before he saw me, I could tell. All of a sudden he jumped, staring at me with this scarily blank face.

Usually I was the one who scared him - I'm not bragging, you can ask anyone - but the look in his eyes made my stomach clench. Instead of commenting, I gestured to my car.

"Thought if I got you early we could grab some food," I said, and jingled my keys. Not sure where that came from. I must've pulled it out of my ass, because I hadn't had a plan.

Souma nodded, walking past me and climbed in silently, turning to look out the window.

Great beginning to the night, I thought wryly. Now if only I had shot him in the foot, the night would be complete.

The car was quiet, the radio off. I certainly didn't know what to say, but I wanted to cheer him up. I fought with myself for a minute before talking.

"What happened?" Great. Wonderful. Let's bring it up, shall we?

He didn't answer for so long that I thought he wouldn't, but he turned to me after a few minutes and said, "He was telling me I couldn't leave the house, even though I'm not his son and I'm twenty years old. So I left."

It was a miracle he'd answered at all, so I decided not to push. Another time, maybe.

Pulling over at a small restaurant, we went in and got a table, giving the waitress our drink orders as she gave us menus.

We were eating and I was thinking about how it was strange to be on the other side of the wall from the kitchen (I mainly ate fast food), when he looked up suddenly. His eyes were sharp, looked like blue knives.

"He basically kicked me out. Then he hit me for 'mouthing off' to him," he said, and I felt a hard place in my stomach form, choking on my pasta. Swallowing hard, I grabbed him, pulling him to the bathroom as subtly as possible. The door shut behind us and I locked it, checking that we were alone.

Standing quietly, he Souma just let me hold his chin still, pushing up his hair. There was a dark bruise across covering his forehead on the right side, and a cut above his ear. A chill spread through me, and my hands shook as I grabbed a moist towel from a rack to the side.

Maybe I should take a moment to explain something. I loved this man. Or at least, I had believed that until that moment. I think that was when I actually fell in love for real - standing there in the bathroom in some random restaurant, dabbing blood from the side of his face as he stared at me without speaking. I was so angry, but so grateful that I had been creepy and early.

I needed a smoke.

See, it had all begun about three before then. I walked in one day, clocked in, and was introduced to my new sous chef. He was shorter back then (I've been tall since forever), only up to my nose. Still, he was snarky and smart. He used to drive me nuts - still does - and I finally got so harassed that I would threaten him with my frying pan.

One day he almost burned himself trying to prove a point about something - I can't remember what - and I smacked up upside the head with it. I remember the stupid grin on his face, not even quibbling over the lump that formed. I think he was touched that I cared so much.

He grew on me, as embarrassed as I am to admit it. Slowly over the course of the two and a half years, we became friends. Of course, he quickly saw how much time I spent with Yachiyo (we are childhood friends and nothing more - besides she has a thing for the Manager) and decided that it only made sense that I liked her.

Idiot. It was him that I grew to like instead, to enjoy having a conversation with. He was witty, and he could be kind when he wanted to, but he was also smart and sneaky.

Rinsing the cloth, I gently let it rest on his bruise, looking at him directly for the first time.

"Why didn't you say something before, Souma?"

Hiroomi

His eyes were strange. I don't think I had ever noticed before, which is strange since I tend to pay attention to everything. (My stepfather has been living with us for almost nine years; it made sense to evolve defenses.)

They changed color. His eyes, I mean. One second there were pale yellow, the next a dark liquid gold. Flashing through amber and carnelian and flame, they darted across my face and he focused on me, wetting his lips before speaking.

"Why didn't you say something before, Souma?"

Something else I'd never noticed. The man had freckles! Not many, sure, but I could see three under his chin across his neck. No, those were dark little moles, not freckles. They were so dark against his pale skin, like chocolate drops in milk.

Why hadn't I said something before?

I wasn't sure.

"I'm not sure. I just…I don't know."

Satou-kun said nothing to this, but paused, his hand on my forehead. It was cold, his fingers gentle as they probed the bruise. My skin felt extra-sensitive, hot to the touch. Like I'd been rubbed raw and rain was blowing into my face.

His face was so close, and his eyes were almost glowing. He smelled like the promise of spring rain over a warm field, and magnolias. Like a field of magnolias in the rain.

He had a dimple on his left cheek, but not on the right, and even though we were the same height, I felt smaller right then. Like he could wrap me up and I would disappear into him. Wow. That old bastard must have hit me harder than I thought.

Yachiyo

I frowned, peeked around the edge of the wall at the curtain that led to the bathroom. I was sitting at the table the boys had left, trying to stall the waiter. Luckily I still had my katana, or the man probably would've tried to escort me away by now.

Where were they? I hadn't seen or heard what happened, but if they didn't come out soon I would have to go get them one way or another.

Originally my plan had just been to make sure than Jun didn't chicken out, but with everything I saw when he went to get Souma-san, I'd decided to follow a bit further, and somehow I was here now.

The place was nice, the food smelled good, so why were they both in the bathroom together instead? Well…I blushed, but shook the thought away. Jun wasn't the type to do that here, I knew. Still, it was a distracting thought. Wow. You learn new things about yourself all the time.

At last the door opened, and Jun walked out, Souma-san coming after. Quickly before they could see me, I darted away to the exit, crossing my fingers that they'd make it out without any other mysterious group trips to the bathroom. It's not like I could help anyways. Jun would never forgive me if I pushed him into all this only to ruin it when it finally happened.

I'd just have to wait for them to get out of the restaurant in my car.

Jun

I wanted to hold him. It was strange that this was the first time I'd felt that, I think. Suddenly I was realizing that I knew very little about Hiroomi Souma, and I didn't like that. I'm not sure why I thought that just because I believed I loved him I would suddenly know everything about him, or that it would be enough, but it was far from the truth.

Come to think of it, I didn't even know what his favorite color was. We had become friends, but we still didn't hang out. If we had he probably would've realized my feelings for him sooner; he was smart, after all, and I wasn't so wonderful an actor.

Fury was banging on the inside of my ribs, squeezing my lungs until I felt a strangled cough in the back of my throat. Acid coated my tongue, and I could hear Souma coming along behind me. We got to our table and the waiter came over. I spoke before he could, asking for to-go boxes for our food, and he agreed after a moment.

I didn't say anything, wondering if we should still go to the concert at all. Souma seemed out of it, and I didn't really feel like trying to push our way through crowds and screaming fans right now. At the same time though, I couldn't send him home after seeing that bruise and the scratch that wasn't long but deep so close to his temple.

"Hey," I started, getting his attention, "You wanna get outta here?"

He looked at me for a moment, and then nodded.

The air was soft outside, cooling off my temper a little as I opened the door for him, handing him the food after he sat down. Suddenly I felt so protective. Like I wanted to wrap him in a blanket and keep him away from the world. Not that he would let me; he might've been in a strange kind of shock at the moment, but the man was usually very sharp-tongued and self-aware.

I was anticipating sarcasm as soon as it wore off, but instead of dreading it, I was hoping to hear it as fast as possible.

The town itself wasn't far from the coast, only ten or fifteen minutes. Turning east, I kept turning until I could see the fading light over the horizon, a semi-straight clear space showing the ocean beyond. I turned off the a/c, rolling the windows down instead, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep pull, sighing it out between my teeth. Looking over at Souma, I asked, "So are you especially attached to those clothes?"

He started and looked down at himself, shrugging, "Not really. Why?"

"Beach."

Making an 'oh' noise, Souma just nodded, leaning against the open window and breathing deeply.

It was so quiet. I myself was a naturally quiet person, but Souma tended to be more talkative - at least around me - so I was understandably concerned.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Again, the silence stretched, but not quite so far this time, and he answered, "My mom got re-married when I was eleven, and for a few months everything was fine. I didn't like him, but then I missed my real dad. He died when I was eight, and my mom and he were already divorced so she wasn't as torn up as I was."

I stayed quiet, letting him talk. People said I was a good listener, so I just listened.

"I remember the first time he smacked me. I was almost twelve, and I understood at that moment what was going to happen. Mom never was good at picking guys ever since she and dad split. It was always guys who didn't treat her right, or guys who resented me for always being around.

"So, long story short, I knew I couldn't count on her to believe me over him. Even if she did, she wouldn't have done anything. Mother of the year, right? Well, the guy is an operator for the Seikan, so at least he isn't home a lot. Anyways, it was never a constant. We usually got on each other's nerves, but over the years I learned to not let him get to me. I got smarter."

A huge gust of sea air swept through the car and washed away a bit of my nausea, droplets of moisture sprinkling my face. We were pulling into a ferry parking lot, curving around the very edge to park behind a series of huge black trucks. It was almost dark and the lights were blinking on a bit closer to the ferry itself.

Once we made it past the fences and were on the grass, Souma continued without prompting.

"It's once I left high school that he really started to lay into me. As long as I was in school, it was never that bad."

He jumped over a rock and concentrated to skid down a small pile of pebbles before talking again. I kept to the grass, following him slowly as I listened.

"These past two years have been pretty bad when he's home, but like I said, he has a pretty long commute. As long as I'm in bed by the time he gets home around eleven, everything's pretty quiet. It worse on Sundays, but I can usually get out and in without him seeing me through my window."

"Souma…" I couldn't bite the words fast enough, but he didn't get upset. Instead he just kept going without acknowledging that I'd spoken.

"I feel like I'm a prisoner in my own home. Maybe it's just time for me to get an apartment. I have enough money, since I don't spend much that I make. I don't have any bills right now. I guess I just kept putting it off. Not sure why."

The waves were still a bit away down the hill, washing up over the rocks. There were spots of sand, but it was mostly either grass or pebbles and small stones that made up the beach. Gulls were screeching on the higher cliffs down the coast, mixing with the waves to make a thick sound that just made me want to suck in a deep breath of salty air.

It was quiet for a while as we walked. The sky was completely dark blue now, the dusty grey fading until the moon was the only light besides the lamps in the parking lot and the windows from the buildings.

The ocean fed into the river running back towards the city proper, thick lush banks on both sides that were kept up by the city. There was a stiff breeze rushing over the water, blowing my hair back from my face. With both eyes I looked down the hill to Souma, taking in his form against the dim light.

So much time had been wasted because I was young and nervous, afraid of what-ifs and maybes. Somehow this felt like a second chance, and here I was hesitating again.

I didn't know his favorite color, or his favorite food. I didn't know his middle name or whether he liked dogs or cats. What he thought of black hair or if he preferred blonde. Whether he liked western style houses or traditional Japanese style, or some mixture? What he enjoyed doing in his free time and whether he liked red or white wine, or both? His fears, dreams, hopes, passions.

There were so many things I didn't know how to say, so much I didn't know how to fix or help with, but I could do what I wanted to do right now if he would let me.

Hiroomi

It was chilly but crisp as I stood there, my feet balanced between a few rocks that wanted to shift under me. I'd talked until I didn't know what else I wanted to say, so I was standing with Satou-kun in the darkness, my nose going numb. It was almost autumn, and autumn here was like winter somewhere warmer. My hands were nippy too, my ears burning a little from the wind as I ducked my head into my shoulders.

Gravel crunched behind me and I heard him come up beside me.

"Souma," he said. His voice had something in it that made me want to look him in the eyes, but it was too dark, so I did nothing. He was warm, heat coming off his body and making me swallow.

"I'm just going to blurt this out like a teenager because I'm not good with words. I love you. It's impossible - I don't know much about you, even. It sounds like a half-baked confession, but it's not. I've felt this way for almost three years, and not once has it gone away. I found out tonight that every new thing I learn only makes me more sure, and I really want to put an arm around you right now if you'll let me."

I was so glad for the darkness now. My face was burning, goosebumps prickling up my arms. Standing there in the cold, I felt like a girl in a movie, being confessed to like this. I couldn't lie and say I didn't like him too, and since I was already too worn out to freak out like I felt I should be, I just nodded slowly, watching him come closer.

Jun

My body was hot, the hair on the back of my neck fluffing up. He stood there in my arms like a startled deer, but if he thought I would hesitate now, he was mistaken. As simply as if I had always planned to, my hand cupped his cheek. Then I somehow went from holding him to slotting my lips against his without meaning to.

Electricity bit at my fingers, and it was like fire had been lit at the pit of my stomach. It was no great, earth-shattering kiss of the ages, but it was warm, two pairs of cold-chapped lips pressed to each other, and my fingers trailed through his hair. My nose hit his, and he jumped, but I just eased closer, my other arm wrapping around him to steady us one the slippery pebbles.

Then he kissed back, and that firework feeling finally shot through me, fizzling into my spine and through my brain. Hot breath puffed between us and I opened my eyes to see his flutter back at me then shut again, too close.

All of a sudden something slid, and we went down, skidding a few feet on the gravel, Souma lying across me and our legs twisted awkwardly together. We were both on our backs, one of my hands on his collarbone, his head on my ribs.

For a moment there was only the sound of panting, but he started shaking and then a snort got loose. Then we were both laughing helplessly on the ground, staring up through blurry eyes at the sky. My sides hurt, and I could feel a lump where my head hit the ground, but he was warm and the ground was softer than you might think just looking at it.

I'd have to thank Yachiyo for all this, and that just started me up again. Two years wasted, but I wouldn't have traded that night for anything.

Hiroomi

I laughed until I cried, then I had to stop or get hysterical. Satou-kun had a hand in my hair when I stopped, and one of my legs was tangled with his. My skin was chilled, but he was warm, and I didn't want to move, even though the stitch in my side stung.

My feelings didn't help at all with my confusion, since they were making me hyper aware of my lips, still tender from the new use. He'd been my first kiss. My first trip and fall while kissing, too. That thought got another smile from me, and I realized I didn't have to have an answer right now.

That wasn't why he confessed. He just wanted to make me feel better, so he'd sucked up his courage and told me something embarrassing but wonderful.

Because it was wonderful, I saw. It was hot breath and dry lips, and a tongue that tasted like saltwater touching my lips right before we fell. It was big hands brushing through my hair gently and a heady smell of magnolias and cinnamon making me sleepy there in the darkness, lying on his chest.

Then I felt a smirk creep up on me, and I swallowed my own hesitation, putting a cold hand on his stomach and tracing the bottom hem, enjoying his jump.

"So you love me, do you?"

"Glad to see you're feeling better," he muttered, pulling at my hair a bit. Before he could react, I stuck my fingers under his shirt and delighted in his yelp, the firm skin sucking away from me.

"God, that's cold, Souma!"

Feeling brave (or reckless) I turned so I was propped up on my elbow, catching his eye.

"You can use my name, Satou-kun."

I got to see him blush for the first time then, and it made my stomach hot and full-feeling.

"It's Jun."

"Hiroomi."

"I know. Hiroomi," I couldn't see his eyes well, but his voice made it sound like his eyes darkened, and I blushed too. The sound of my name on his lips, dripping off like honey…

Watching him, I leaned up and kissed him, and it was better than before, because this time I got to see his surprise first.

Then his hands came up to hold my hair, and I lost track of time.

Yachiyo

I stood in the parking lot of the concert for an hour before giving up and going home. At least Jun wasn't answering. That had to be a good sign, right?