𝑬𝒙𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 | 𝑫𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ Pizza Under The Stars

After finishing their delivery route, the two of you agreed on grabbing pizza to celebrate surviving the day.
Too tired and hungry to argue about a place, the two of you end up at a quirky, hole-in-the-wall pizza joint.

Daisuke claims it has
"the best greasy slices in the city."

The place is small, with flickering
neon lights and mismatched chairs, but the smell of melted cheese and garlic is enough to make you forget your exhaustion.

As you both step into the line, the smell of pizza wafting through the air, Daisuke rubs his hands together eagerly.

"I'm gonna demolish that pizza,
Cheese, crust, sauce—hell,
I might even eat the damn box."
he declares, his tone dripping with exaggerated hunger.

"Of course you are,
you fucking vacuum."
You snort, giving him a side-eye.

Daisuke gasps, clutching his chest in mock offense.

"A vacuum?! Excuse me, [Name],
but I am a refined connoisseur of food, thank you very much!"

You raise an eyebrow.
"Right. Refined. That's why I caught you eating chips off the floor of the van earlier?"

"That was an emergency situation! And, for the record, the five-second rule was in play."
His face flushes, and he waves his hands frantically.

"Uh-huh. Sure,"
you tease, crossing your arms.

"I'll have you know I can have self-control! Sometimes..."
His voice trails off, and he smirks. "Okay, rarely, but it's the thought that counts."

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that while you're inhaling the pizza and the box."

He throws his head back and laughs—loudly, the kind of laugh that makes people turn to stare.
You can't help but chuckle along,
even as you nudge him to tone it down.

"Keep it up, and I'll eat your slices too,"
he threatens playfully, wagging a finger at you.

"You try it, and I'll report you to HR for harassment,"
you fire back, but your grin betrays the seriousness of your tone.

"Ha! Jokes on you—we don't have HR!"
Daisuke retorts triumphantly, stepping up in line with a smug grin plastered across his face.

"Then I'll tell Curly or Swansea on you."
You smirk, not missing a beat.
His confidence falters for a second, and he shoots you a wary glance.

"Okay, rude. Snitching? Really?
That's a low blow, [Name]."

"All's fair when it comes to pizza thievery."
You shrugged.

The two of you continue bickering, the playful banter cutting through the fatigue of the long day.
As the line inches forward, Daisuke suddenly pivots to another topic.

"Okay, real talk,"
he starts, his tone serious.

"If you put pineapple on your pizza, you're basically a criminal.
That should be illegal.
Like, straight to federal prison."