Sex or Indian? (Zig and Joe Side Story 1)

"Ben là, I want Indian."

"I don't care what you want, we're getting Greek."

"Arrête, là! You can get Greek. I'm getting Indian."

This argument had been going on for at least twenty minutes now and neither was giving in. At this point, it was just a stubborn, competitive need to win and not at all about what they wanted to eat for dinner. Or at least for Ziggy it was. Joe might have an actual reason.

"If you eat Indian, you're sleeping in the guest room." Joe barely raised his voice, his usually smiling face barely scrunched in frustration.

That constant calm demeanor pissed the hell out of Ziggy. Unlike his partner, he was red and scowling and his fists clenched to hold in the oncoming tantrum. "Are you my mother, hein? You can't tell me what to eat or where to sleep in my own home!"

"It's my apartment, old man. And if you get Indian, you'll order Laal Maas, which will tear your old man stomach to shreds and you'll stink all night." That was all true and it made Ziggy grit his teeth. "And I'm not sleeping with that."

With a quick breath to compose himself, Ziggy took a step back and crossed his arms. "Ch'te dis, you are only three years younger than this old man, tsé?" He pouted, trying his best to persuade Joe to let him have his way. Sometimes it worked, but from the eyebrow raise he got in response, this wasn't one of those times. "And I have a craving. You know it won't go away until I feed it!"

"Fine. Feed it in the guest room."

A throat cleared loudly from the kitchen and both turned to see Amari holding a frying pan up like a weapon. "While I appreciate how very important this conversation must be to you, why the HELL do you need to have it my living room?" He raised his arm, making Ziggy flinch. "I know well enough where you are, and if I throw this, it'll at least hit one of you. Go. Home."

Crying out dramatically, Ziggy dropped his head into his hands, his thin, white-streaked blond hair falling loose over his shoulders. "Everyone is so mean, hein? You always gang up on me!"

"Oh for godsake," Joe groaned out, but the whining was clearly working because his folded arms dropped to his sides. "Don't start. You know what I'm saying is true."

Ziggy eyed him between his fingers. He was so cute like this. Angry, but never really angry, and on the edge of giving in. Just a few more little pushes.

"What are you going to do when I actually get old?" he asked, pulling his hands away just enough to show an overly childish frown and sad, dejected blue eyes. "Ayoye! If you can't love me when I have a little gas, you'll just leave me when my body starts to fall apart..."

Joe flinched and his fingers began to curl. "Who said I didn't love you? How did you even jump to that?"

::Ah, non.:: He was getting more frustrated. That was probably too much.

Ziggy huffed and moved his hands to his hips. "You said you wouldn't sleep with me, hein? Because I will stink!" With the raise of a hand, he lifted his chin in the air. "Laisse faire! I will just sleep at Cate's tonight. You can have your whole apartment to yourself and it will smell MERVEILLEUX!"

Joe's arms were back across his chest. He knew how the rest of this would go and Ziggy held in a smirk.

"You're fucking crazy," he finally said after looking over the exaggerated diva stance. "If we sleep together, you'll want to have sex. I'll say no, because you'll have eaten Laal Maas and in the middle of some heavy, kinky moment, you'll release a giant fart and ruin the mood. Then you'll get depressed and cry and I'll have to spend the whole damn night convincing you I still love you. And if I DON'T say no and we DO have sex and you DO fart and ruin the mood, you'll get depressed and cry and I'll have to spend the whole damn night convincing you I still love you. I'm trying to save us both from having that night."

::Quoi? That was unexpected.::

"Jesus!" The word was practically screamed at them and Amari slammed his hand on the kitchen table. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?!"

Ziggy winced. He had been too preoccupied with the back and forth to really care where he was. Not that it would have stopped him, really, but he may have chosen different tactics. He couldn't control Joe's much too honest reasoning, though, which was probably what had put his friend over the edge.

"Taitai," Amari called out, turning back to the counter. "Throw something at your uncles. Something that'll hurt."

Energetic snorting and laughing, followed by light jingling, came from the hallway as Taitai stepped into view.

::Ah, merde...:: That wasn't a conversation you were supposed to have in front of a twelve year old. Or anyone, actually. Ziggy often told himself in these moments that he should work on his complete disregard for his surroundings, but he couldn't count how many years he'd been telling himself that without any progress. Seemed kind of pointless. Some things were just a reflex and he was too old to change now.

Rushing into the room, Taitai grabbed pillow after pillow, chucking them as fast and as hard as he could at his two uncles. Soon, pillows were flying back, and the three had completely forgotten there was ever an argument to begin with.

After collapsing onto the couch, Taitai leaned comfortably back against the arm and stretched his long legs across both Ziggy and Joe.

"You guys are so gross," he commented, his voice deep and cracking, a sound Ziggy was certain he would never get used to. He said it seriously, but not as disgusted as most twelve-year-old boys would be after hearing that. Taitai wasn't like most twelve-year-old boys, though. How could he be in this family? "Way too much information, tsé?" He groaned and his head fell backward. "Ěeee... I pictured it! Tài ěxīnle!!"

He squirmed and squealed, as much as a pubescent boy with a changing voice could squeal, and his hands messed his long ponytail as he tried to rub his mind clean.

Ziggy only chuckled. "Ah, mon chéri... You need to pick a language, hein?"

"Whose fault is that?" Amari asked, still in the kitchen cooking dinner. "YOU need to go home. You've already traumatized me and my son. You're just lucky Yang ge isn't here."

That was very true. They couldn't ruin his child any more than they already had, but he still managed to get upset every time. Such a protective father. Joe eyed him, knowing that was a good reason to leave, and he nodded. Pushing their way out from under Taitai's legs, they both headed timidly to the door.

"Sorry," Joe said with an apologetic grin. "It just came out."

Amari sighed and put his wooden spoon down next to the stove. There was no need for him to face them, so he just tilted his head in their direction.

"You said it," he started, then turned a bit more. "But someone else really deserves the blame, don'tcha think?"

Ziggy shuffled over and gave his sweet, surrogate son a tight hug. "Mon chou. I know you love me, hein? Mon précieux bébé." Giving him a hard kiss on the cheek, a hand trying to push him away, he smiled wide. "And I love you too!"

He released and Amari waved him away with a resigned sigh, returning to his food. The two said their goodbyes to Taitai, who only threw another pillow at them, and with a loud chuckle, Ziggy took Joe's hand and pulled him out into the stairwell. Both laughing quietly at what just happened, they hurried out onto the sidewalk.

"Sacrement, I can't believe you said that..." Ziggy huffed after catching his breath. "And in front of Taitai!"

Joe cringed and ran a hand through his short, loose curls. Very little fazed him, but he was clearly embarrassed by his outburst and Ziggy grinned.

::Ah, si cute...::

"How was I supposed to know he was there?" Joe tried to hide the shame with logic. "How did Amari know he was there?"

"Qui sait, là. Ch'te dis, since his eyesight went, he is like a ninja, hein? C'est terrifiant." Ziggy shivered recalling the multiple times Amari had known exactly where he was and what he was doing, even when he wasn't being dramatic about it. There was no sneaking anything past him anymore. "Antèka, we didn't settle our dinner argument, tsé?"

Joe sighed. "Can we please not start that again?"

"We still have to eat, hein?" There was no response and Ziggy pouted. "Coudon, don't be upset. Hein? Hein?" He poked Joe in the side and got another sigh.

"So what are we going to eat, then?" Joe asked, not looking at him.

"Fait que..." Ziggy grinned at him, batting his eyelashes and looking as sweet as possible. "I still want Indian."

Another sigh.

"I said I have a craving! I am like a pregnant woman, hein? I have to have it! You know this!" He had let go of Joe's hand and was waving wildly in the air instead. They often attracted attention walking the streets of New York, just by virtue of their combined appearance and Ziggy's clingy and overly-affectionate actions. Now people were staring. Thankfully, he didn't give a shit what people thought. "Ah, j'ai le feu au cul! I am a grown man, hein? Why can't I choose what I eat for dinner? If I was actually a pregnant woman, you wouldn't be so stubborn."

Joe continued walking, not bothered by his dramatic display but also not showing any signs he would be joining in.

Ziggy needed to change his approach. He wrapped one arm around Joe's bicep and the other took his forearm. He used both to pull himself close.

"Don't you want your pregnant wife to be happy and have what she needs? I promise I won't overdo it. I won't even order anything too spicy, hein? I will be good, so let's get Indian, hein?"

They strolled down the sidewalk that way for almost an entire block, Ziggy giving him the widest, neediest eyes he could and Joe not flinching, until Joe let out a final sigh.

"Sex or Indian."

"Hein?" Ziggy heard him, but after all of that, was that all he was going to say?

Joe finally paused and looked at him. He was calm, as always, but a slight smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.

"Tonight. You can have sex, or you can have Indian."

::Ah, câlice.:: Ziggy's arms dropped and he pouted, but Joe grabbed his hand tight, weaving their fingers together. The answer was obvious.

"Sexe, bien sûr."

Joe nodded and started walking again, pulling a defeated Ziggy along with him. "Tu as de la mine dans le crayon," he said through a light chuckle.

With a quick gasp, Ziggy's eyes darted to him. Now he was grinning like a fool, the sweet, cheerful, teasing Joe again, and Ziggy snorted a laugh.

"Franchement... Why do you even know that saying?"

Lifting his hand to kiss his fingers, Joe chuckled. "After six years with you, I should at least know all the ways to call you a horny pervert."

"Ayoye!" Ziggy threw his head back but smiled wide. "That's so true, it hurts." Shuffling closer, close enough to make walking awkward but so much warmer, he leaned into Joe's shoulder. "Ah, I'm hungry. Let's go get your boring Greek food."