I wanted to. [ Wu says with a little smile. He pushes the gift into Mako's hands, then rocks on his heels. ] You've been really nice to me since I got here, and I can't really do anything for you, so I wanted to get you something.
[ Their relationship used to be purely transactional, although Wu refused to acknowledge it, then. He doesn't want it to be that way anymore, but he also doesn't want to feel like he's just taking from Mako again, when Mako has no real incentive to take care of him except for a misplaced sense of duty or something. ] Well, open it!
[ When Mako does, he'll find a nice pocket-sized notebook and a small pen. On the first page in Wu's fancy handwriting it says: ]
The Mysteries of Deerington, Detective Mako's Notes
[ Mako takes a good, long while to open the thing. It's wrapped in very nice paper and there's still a little starving kid in Mako who thinks it's too nice to ruin, that it could easily be reused for something. It's wasteful to tear it apart.
So he runs his fingers under the neatly-taped edges, careful and slow, his eyes flickering between the package and Wu until he finally pulls the paper off.
It's a tiny thing, perfect for notes, like it could slip right into his pocket, and the pen fits perfectly in its little loop. Mako runs his fingers along the cover, opens it without quite meaning to, and reads the words with a tiny, forgotten smile on his lips.
He's quiet for a long time, something curling up warm and unbidden, twining through his ribs and into his lungs. Mako's never been very good at getting gifts. He doesn't know the right thing to say, doesn't know how to sound sincere when all he wants to say is you didn't have to and why did you get this.
He swallows. Looks up at Wu with the little book tight in his hands. ] This is really practical.
[ Wu watches him unwrap it, his heart in his throat.
It's nothing, really. Back home, he would buy people extravagant gifts for no particular reason at all, except that he could. He'd even done that for Mako a few times, and Mako had hated every last one of them, so Wu stopped.
But this is different. Now it's his own, very limited funds, and he wants to get Mako something, to show Mako that he really cares about him, and, perhaps, to get Mako to care a little more about Wu.
He hates just how much he wants the way that Mako cares about him to be about him, Wu, and not the Prince he was or the King he is. ]
Ah... yes, I suppose it is. [ Wu clasps his hands together, awkward now. He glances at the notebook, then at Mako's face, then away. ] I noticed that you didn't have one. Or at least didn't have one you carry around. That's what detectives do, right? They take notes about the goings on around them.
[ A tiny flare of panic stabs into Mako's belly at the look on Wu's face. It's probably visible on his own face, his fingers going tight on the little book, his brows drawing together.
Why is he so bad at this? When did this kind of thing start happening around Wu?
When their relationship started changing. When Wu woke up here, stronger than Mako knew, ready to jump in and help without asking, determined to do the right thing even if he doesn't always know how or what that is. When Wu started impressing him more than he started annoying him.
Odd, how fast that happened.
Maybe it's been happening for longer than Mako thought, though. He was glad to see Wu again in the city, actually interested in hearing about all his progress over smoothies. Even then, it had felt like he was trying to hold onto his annoyance and frustration because it was what he knew, but Wu was already different.
He swallows, meets Wu's eyes (you didn't get him anything, you should have gotten him something) and tries again. ] That's exactly what I do. Even more, here, there's so much to remember. It's perfect. Thank you.
[ Relief washes through him and Wu nods, the smile back on his face, soft and small. ] You're very welcome. That way you don't have to keep it all in your noodle.
[ But now, the awkwardness is back. Wu didn't really have a plan other than to give Mako the gift, but he still doesn't really want to be alone.
After a second, he steps in closer, then wraps his arms around Mako's shoulders, pulling him into a hug. His ribs still twinge, but he's still rattled from the last nearly a month of being here, and hugging Mako feels good, really good, and settles the nerves in his gut. ]
[ Mako should really be used to Wu hugging him by now, after nearly a month of close contact, but he still goes stiff for a moment. Wu is warm and smells a little bit like the cold snow outside.
But the familiar warmth is already washing through him, making Mako smile despite himself.
Conscious of his ribs, he wraps his arms around Wu, tugging him a little closer into a proper hug. ] I didn't get you anything. Sorry.
[ Wu's hair is very soft against his cheek. Mako can smell fancy soap, a little bit of something familiar. The notebook presses into Wu's back, still in Mako's hand. ]
But, um. I was going to make spirit cakes, if you wanted to help. I got some fruit for them.
That's okay. [ Wu smiles, holding onto him tightly. Mako is the only thing that makes even a little bit of sense these days, the only person here who knows Wu at all. Sure, he's met people, even made some friends, but they don't know him like Mako does. Mako makes him feel safe.
He hugs Mako for too long, nodding his head against Mako's shoulder. ] Yes! I can help. Uh. If you tell me what to do.
[ Mako snorts and finally lets go, his hands dropping away. ] If you think I'm going to let you loose in the kitchen—yeah. You can mix things for me. How good are you at following directions?
[ Probably not good, but Mako doesn't really want to be alone today either, and it will clearly make Wu happy to help out. ]
[ Mako asks this as he leads Wu down the hallway toward the massive kitchen. It's a legitimate question, okay? A lot of what they're about to do involves knives. At least Mako managed to chop up a lot of the fruit before Wu showed up. ]
[ The kitchen is a sprawling space, currently empty except for the stuff scattered all over the counter: flour, a very large bowl, some fruit chopped into neat piles and placed in various bowls, another bowl full of something yellowish and yet another full of what looks like red bean curd. Mako grabs an apron from the back of a chair and drapes it back around himself. ]
I don't think there's another one of these, but you can... help me knead the dough.
[ That doesn't involve a knife, and Mako bets that is... probably safer. ]
Oh! That sounds fun. [ Wu skips after him with a smile, unbuttoning his jacket. It seems safer not to get his nice suit dirty, when he still hasn't found a dry cleaner in this town. ] Ah... what's "kneading" entail?
[ Mako should... really have known. He beckons Wu over to the counter covered in bowls. One has a half-kneaded dough in it, the other just flour. ] Have you ever cooked before? Anything at all?
I... have made myself some sandwiches. Since I've been here. [ Wu says it haughtily, not quite meeting Mako's gaze. ] Before this? No. Why would I have cooked, Mako? When would anyone have let me cook?
Mako gives him a look that says as much—amused, kind of flat—and gestures for Wu to step up beside him. ] Alright, well, kneading probably isn't the most useful cooking skill but it'll teach you something. We can make a smoothie later. For a break.
[ Wu beams up at Mako ] A smoothie! I knew you'd come through for me, buddy. [ He pats Mako on the back before hopping over to the sink to wash his hands. ]
I'm fine learning a useless skill. That's half of what my childhood was.
[ Mako just snorts, aiming his smile at the dough instead of at Wu to keep it from him. ] Sure. What are friends for if not making emergency smoothies.
[ He grins at Wu as he comes back over, scooting over just a little. ] Well, this one will have more application than—uh. What other useless skills did you learn?
[ Mako snorts again without quite meaning to, glancing sideways at Wu. ] I don't know, calligraphy's probably a little useful. My handwriting looks terrible.
[ And he practices, too, tries to make it more legible, painfully aware of his own lack of schooling working against him all the time. It's hard not to be jealous that Wu had so much access to school that he also got to learn things like flower-arranging and violin. ]
Why did you have to learn flower arranging? What good does that do you? How much of a need does the crown have for princes who can look at flowers and know where to put them?
What? It's overdone. [ He huffs, and starts to put a little more effort in, perching up in his tip toes to push down on the dough ] We want it to be stronger? I thought we wanted dough to be, to be sort and delicate.
[ He peers up at Mako, then winces, his ribs twinging as he presses in the wrong way. ] Ow.
Custard! [ Wu loves custard, and that's enough to get him to forget about his ribs for a second. He looks over the ingredients and picks up two eggs, then pauses. ] What do you want me to do with the eggs?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Their relationship used to be purely transactional, although Wu refused to acknowledge it, then. He doesn't want it to be that way anymore, but he also doesn't want to feel like he's just taking from Mako again, when Mako has no real incentive to take care of him except for a misplaced sense of duty or something. ] Well, open it!
[ When Mako does, he'll find a nice pocket-sized notebook and a small pen. On the first page in Wu's fancy handwriting it says: ]
The Mysteries of Deerington, Detective Mako's Notes
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So he runs his fingers under the neatly-taped edges, careful and slow, his eyes flickering between the package and Wu until he finally pulls the paper off.
It's a tiny thing, perfect for notes, like it could slip right into his pocket, and the pen fits perfectly in its little loop. Mako runs his fingers along the cover, opens it without quite meaning to, and reads the words with a tiny, forgotten smile on his lips.
He's quiet for a long time, something curling up warm and unbidden, twining through his ribs and into his lungs. Mako's never been very good at getting gifts. He doesn't know the right thing to say, doesn't know how to sound sincere when all he wants to say is you didn't have to and why did you get this.
He swallows. Looks up at Wu with the little book tight in his hands. ] This is really practical.
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It's nothing, really. Back home, he would buy people extravagant gifts for no particular reason at all, except that he could. He'd even done that for Mako a few times, and Mako had hated every last one of them, so Wu stopped.
But this is different. Now it's his own, very limited funds, and he wants to get Mako something, to show Mako that he really cares about him, and, perhaps, to get Mako to care a little more about Wu.
He hates just how much he wants the way that Mako cares about him to be about him, Wu, and not the Prince he was or the King he is. ]
Ah... yes, I suppose it is. [ Wu clasps his hands together, awkward now. He glances at the notebook, then at Mako's face, then away. ] I noticed that you didn't have one. Or at least didn't have one you carry around. That's what detectives do, right? They take notes about the goings on around them.
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[ A tiny flare of panic stabs into Mako's belly at the look on Wu's face. It's probably visible on his own face, his fingers going tight on the little book, his brows drawing together.
Why is he so bad at this? When did this kind of thing start happening around Wu?
When their relationship started changing. When Wu woke up here, stronger than Mako knew, ready to jump in and help without asking, determined to do the right thing even if he doesn't always know how or what that is. When Wu started impressing him more than he started annoying him.
Odd, how fast that happened.
Maybe it's been happening for longer than Mako thought, though. He was glad to see Wu again in the city, actually interested in hearing about all his progress over smoothies. Even then, it had felt like he was trying to hold onto his annoyance and frustration because it was what he knew, but Wu was already different.
He swallows, meets Wu's eyes (you didn't get him anything, you should have gotten him something) and tries again. ] That's exactly what I do. Even more, here, there's so much to remember. It's perfect. Thank you.
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[ But now, the awkwardness is back. Wu didn't really have a plan other than to give Mako the gift, but he still doesn't really want to be alone.
After a second, he steps in closer, then wraps his arms around Mako's shoulders, pulling him into a hug. His ribs still twinge, but he's still rattled from the last nearly a month of being here, and hugging Mako feels good, really good, and settles the nerves in his gut. ]
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[ Mako should really be used to Wu hugging him by now, after nearly a month of close contact, but he still goes stiff for a moment. Wu is warm and smells a little bit like the cold snow outside.
But the familiar warmth is already washing through him, making Mako smile despite himself.
Conscious of his ribs, he wraps his arms around Wu, tugging him a little closer into a proper hug. ] I didn't get you anything. Sorry.
[ Wu's hair is very soft against his cheek. Mako can smell fancy soap, a little bit of something familiar. The notebook presses into Wu's back, still in Mako's hand. ]
But, um. I was going to make spirit cakes, if you wanted to help. I got some fruit for them.
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He hugs Mako for too long, nodding his head against Mako's shoulder. ] Yes! I can help. Uh. If you tell me what to do.
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[ Probably not good, but Mako doesn't really want to be alone today either, and it will clearly make Wu happy to help out. ]
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Alright, Mr. Chef, show me what to do!
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[ Mako asks this as he leads Wu down the hallway toward the massive kitchen. It's a legitimate question, okay? A lot of what they're about to do involves knives. At least Mako managed to chop up a lot of the fruit before Wu showed up. ]
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Has be held a chef's knife before would be a different question. And the answer would be "no."
He trails after Mako, feeling more at ease just to not be alone. No one should be alone on the new year, least of all in this strange place. ]
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[ The kitchen is a sprawling space, currently empty except for the stuff scattered all over the counter: flour, a very large bowl, some fruit chopped into neat piles and placed in various bowls, another bowl full of something yellowish and yet another full of what looks like red bean curd. Mako grabs an apron from the back of a chair and drapes it back around himself. ]
I don't think there's another one of these, but you can... help me knead the dough.
[ That doesn't involve a knife, and Mako bets that is... probably safer. ]
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[ Mako should... really have known. He beckons Wu over to the counter covered in bowls. One has a half-kneaded dough in it, the other just flour. ] Have you ever cooked before? Anything at all?
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Mako gives him a look that says as much—amused, kind of flat—and gestures for Wu to step up beside him. ] Alright, well, kneading probably isn't the most useful cooking skill but it'll teach you something. We can make a smoothie later. For a break.
First, go wash your hands.
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I'm fine learning a useless skill. That's half of what my childhood was.
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[ He grins at Wu as he comes back over, scooting over just a little. ] Well, this one will have more application than—uh. What other useless skills did you learn?
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Friends. Mako called them friends.
He can't help the grin on his face, too happy, too dopey. ]
Ah... I think that's exactly what friends are for.
[ He nudges Mako in the ribs. ]
Oh, you know. Violin, calligraphy, flower arranging... Well, I like flower arranging.
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[ And he practices, too, tries to make it more legible, painfully aware of his own lack of schooling working against him all the time. It's hard not to be jealous that Wu had so much access to school that he also got to learn things like flower-arranging and violin. ]
Why did you have to learn flower arranging? What good does that do you? How much of a need does the crown have for princes who can look at flowers and know where to put them?
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[ Wu does his best to mimic Mako's kneading of the dough, watching his hands work.
This conversation is a nice distraction, at least, from what he wants to say. ]
I got very bored and bothered one of my aunt's florists into teaching me.
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[ Who are you and what have you done with Wu? Mako is doing a terrible job keeping his smile down, now, especially since Wu is clearly trying. ]
Put a little more power into it. The point of this is to make the dough stronger. The more you work it, the stronger it gets.
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[ He peers up at Mako, then winces, his ribs twinging as he presses in the wrong way. ] Ow.
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Okay, maybe you don't knead right now. You can get the eggs ready for the filling. We're putting custard in some of these.
[ SURELY Wu can crack eggs. Surely. ]
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