Chapter Text
I sat in my room, still dumbfounded by the queer interaction that I'd just beheld. I knew that some people hated the LGBTQ+ business, and that the straighties couldn't always be allies, but... Wow. A homophobic homosexual- a furry one, at that. I was so... confused. Finding out that the charismatic Lord Nendou was a divorced male was also somewhat astounding to me. Shocking. Surprising.
My head perked, hearing a knock at my door. A blonde head poked through the door, skin well-worn by the sun and strands spikey and smelling of homosexual tension. The fourty thousand two hundred and eighty six point nine nine stress lines on his forehead and the giant inhumanly gay grin that he flashed at me was very telling of his identity: High Warlock Gordan Geronimo Ramsay. He sauntered in, Chef coat somehow even whiter than his supernaturally gleaming teeth, carrying a plastic tray with both hands. Hip-bumping the door shut like a total homosexual, he shot me a wink- I couldn't help but let my dainty transgender lgbtq+ face flush in embarrassment, and feel little fluttering butterflies tear at the lining of my growling gay stomach.
This man was a Scottish wonder- better than any other.Yes... Even Shrek.
The bed dipped as he sat his sparky ass down beside me, resting the tray on my lap so that I could see the array of food he'd bequeathed to me: a tall bowl of hand-crafted pepperjack saltimboca coco-pops, in goats milk rationalised from the Honduras; a shallow bowl of steamed harissa-infused aoli rice with smoked salmon; a medium depth bowl of all of the jibblets that one could ever dream of, infused with premium haggis and marinated in quails egg sauce; a tall glass of rainbow jelly tea, of which I was certain that my lgbt ears could hear shouting various slurs at me; and, last bur certainly not least, a flat bowl of Mighty Chocolate Cake- something that everyone knew of, a signature of this chef's work on the outside world: This cake was composed of chocolate, the heart of a gay person, the lungs of Jimmy Fallon (he has many), and the tears of soldiers from the Emu War of the olden ages. I was practically drooling, staring down with wide (f slur) eyes that brimmed with tears of thanks.
"This... this looks amazing," I breathed.
Gordon chuckled, leaning back on his strong manly arms. He ran a large hand through his strong, thick, blond hair, his warm blue eyes dancing around the room. He spoke at a measured pace, his words pronounced yet so soft:
"It's nothing. My fuckin mum used to feed me a lot after I'd get fucking ill, I thought you might fucking appreciate it. I hope you don't fucking mind me just assuming what you'd fucking like-"
"Like? Oh god, Gordon, I love! Thank you so much!" I cheered, my (e/c) eyes glowing with glee as I dug into the jibblets. They were warm and gayly oozed jibblet and haggis flavourings.
Gordon ruffled my (h/c) hair and chuckled again, lips seemingly always in a permenant smirk. Maybe he had gotten botox, or maybe it was a spell- I made a mental note to ask later. The silence was filled by my dainty chewing of the food. Yolanda never fed me food like this- all I used to eat was knuckle sanwiches and dust. I glanced up at Gordon, and our eyes locked. I felt my gay face flush in shyness and I gave a small homosexual smile at the man. He seemed to pause- to silently stutter and hesitate- before standing and slowly walking to the door like the gay man he was.
"Wait!" I cried out gayly, causing Gordon to pause in his steps, turning to look at me again. I chewed the last of my food and stood up, now at my uwu dainty height of dainty measurements.
"Who... I didnt realise that Nendou used to be married.... Why is... What...." I struggled to formulate what i was trying to ask, but Gordon seemed to tense and sigh, understanding almost immediately.
"Honestly? That Nendou kid would forget his fucking lamb sauce if it fucking wasn't a part of the fucking recipe," He leaned his back against the door, rubbing his face with a massive hand before continuing.
"And that fucker Gogo- that one was always a fucking strange fucker. Apparently they fucking broke up because Nendou was an idiot sandwich- fucking about with dark magic when trying to make Gogo a fucking fursuit. For fucks sake, Nendou cried for five fucking months. But now you're here and he's fucking stopped. I think the fucking spell made Gogo homophobic as well as a half cat bastard (f slur). I told Nendou to be fucking careful using magic so fucking stupidly. Stupid idiot fucker."
The silence was palpable, my face flushing at his Scottish words. Gordon sighed deeply.
"Sorry. Sorry y/n. I just... I'll let you get back to your fucking food," Gordon uttered, opening the door and half stepping out before pausing in the doorway- his back to me.
"But... y/n... if... If Nendou acts like he loves you... be careful. It'll mean nothing."
Our eyes met again as he turned to stare dead into my rainbow soul, his eyes slightly shadowed by the door and some unforseen gay forces. It was all... very mysterious and ominous. Jarring...
"You're nothing but a rebound to him."
His voice was a harsh whisper, so soft to the ear but so slicing to the soul. I flinched slightly, my e/c eyes looking away and my pronoun button jangling awkwardly. The door clicked shut and I got back to scoffing my buffet of food, though I didnt really want it anymore. I ate and I ate, lost in my thoughts as the rainbow tea screamed slurs at me.