Inception

Chapter 70: The Last Big Chunk Because I Have Plot Bunnies

 Soshiro had just settled himself down next to Lena with his own lunch when the door hissed open and Kafka trundle in with an aluminum wrapped sub sandwich.

Well, damn, there went his plans for a hot make out session in the lab. Cameras? Like he gave a flying—

"Lena! Vice Captain! Can I eat lunch with you?"

No. "First division giving you the cold shoulder?" asked Soshiro.

"Well, more or less." Kafka rolled back his shoulders. "Greatness tends to intimidate the lessers."

"Sure sure," Soshiro poked his chopsticks at his soggy orange chicken. They had been hot and crispy when he'd bought them, just like his mood. Maybe he should just steal Lena kisses anyway...

"I missed you so stupid much!" said Lena with the biggest damn smile—Soshiro's mood soured further. "Come on! Right here! I gotta tell you about my new theory."

"Sweet, kaiju lore. Lay it on me!"

And so Soshiro was so easily pushed to the side yet again as Lena jumped into yet more nerd talk with the happy puppers which was Kafka.

Why couldn't she light up like that when he came into the room? What about his nerd talks? Granted he only got about half of what she said when she got in deep like this, but still!

He ended up only clearing out half of his lunch, and only on principal that his job absolutely needed fuel. Once or twice he considered doing a Leno and throwing his chop sticks at Kafka's face, but he was, sadly, not that childish. And Kafka would just start throwing stuff back, the moron. The last thing he needed in his quest for Lena-heart dominance was to get sauce all over her and her cronies carefully penciled notes. Though if they were so important they should put them in a folder or something.

Kafka only left once the other scientists returned, which squashed any hope of alone time with Lena, or as much alone time as they could get with four cameras watching their every move. Damnit if he wasn't saving up his leave time for their honeymoon. Guess it was plan B: dragging her to the nearest closest. Because he'd never dealt with a need as dire as this one to have her melting in his hands. Even when she was just sitting there doing nothing special he was overcome with the desire to drag her over and kiss her from head to foot. This was maddening. There was no way this was normal. Yeah it was bad before, but now he had something like permission, now they had, like, a relationship. He internally apologize to all the people he accused of being weak, out of control losers for dabbling in pre-marital sex, because he wanted it. He wanted it so baaaaad---wait, no, he'd settle for kisses. Or touches. Or anything. Anything but sitting here, forced to just watch her with nothing to distract him—

"I'm getting off early, you guys."

Soshiro came to a stop from where he'd been doing lunges on the floor, his uniform coat done away with on the back of a chair.

Yoji was looking around Lena's navel in confusion, though Cromwell just bobbed his head like a bird.

"But—but we've just got started—"

"And I've already put in a solid eight hours into it. There are more important things in the world outside of work, even work to save the world. Gotta go tend to that."

Then she turned around and gave Soshiro what he could only call the cutest, boner-inducing smile he'd ever seen.

Kill him. Kill him now.

She came up to him with that smile, silver ponytail sashaying behind her.

"Want to get dinner?" she asked.