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''You won't be too bored in my absence? You-- you'll call? You promise, cucciolo?''
Ack. For being a lover of sweet things, Secco couldn't fathom why Cioccolata had to act like a fretting mother. Honestly, it was surprising that he even had it in him.
Snarky eyeroll not going unnoticed, Secco kept his answer short. ''Yeah, y-yeah, I'll be fine. You do this every timeee...'' he yawned from his lounging spot on the hard marble of their entryway. Cioccolata had that dumb look in his eye, the one he always made before he pulled Secco into a bone-crushing embrace, or talked his ear off with all with all that sentimental crap.
… Ugh.
Secco gave in, diving under the floor to pop up next to Cioccolata's leg. The latter's grip on the door handle loosened, beaming down at his agile counterpart. ''I'm a grown man, Doc. I'll be just fine on m-my own. 'sides, the place is so damn big, it'll b-be impossible to get bored.''
Said doctor chuckled, familiar baritone echoing around the walls. ''Touché, my dear.'' He bent down to Secco's level to pet him and scratch behind his ear in just the right spot. Secco stretched again and handed Cioccolata his briefcase from its place against the wall. ''Go! Y-you better kick ass out there.''
Cioccolata smiled again, this time sadder, as if he was going to war and leaving behind a weeping wife. ''Alright, il mio cuore, I will return unscathed before you know it. ''Oh, and-''
''And d-don't be watching TV for hours, or my eyes'll go square.'' Secco answered for him, reciting it as though from a well-worn script. The key finally turned in the lock and Secco breathed a sigh of relief, interrupted by all but Cioccolata's teasing tone. ''No more junk food until I'm back, hm? Don't think I haven't hidden it!''
Secco grumbled under his breath, ignoring Cioccolata's dramatic farewells. There went his plans for the morning.
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''It'll be impossible to get bored,'' would prove to be famous last words. Now that he couldn't raid the kitchen for secret sugar stashes, Secco's options were dwindling down. Television would get boring, even if Cioccolata had bought the fancy-schmancy newer ones, he could only flip through the same boring channels, and the novelty of prodding at all the buttons soon wore off. The computer and NES were pretty much the same.
When midday rolled around, Secco found himself laid across the kitchen island, its size barely able to contain his sprawling limbs. Unblinkingly, he gazed at the ceiling, contemplating his next move. He didn't want to go back to the library; there was nothing left for him there: Cioccolata's dusty books bored him half to death, and he didn't exactly get off to watching the snuff films like a certain someone did.
There was the garden: sunbathing was no stranger to Secco, and he loved to play with the bugs: but he always spent too long out and then Cioccolata would reprimand him for bringing dirt into the house-- Secco scrunched his nose at the memory of being forced into the bath. No, that wouldn't do... there were the bedrooms. On occasions spent home alone, he would shrug on coats that always left him with that clinical smell, and tamper with colourful makeup. But then Cioccolata would be extra extra mad, and that shit took too long to scrape away in the first place. Secco didn't know why he bothered with it, really-- but at least it made him pretty.
Yeah... An unwanted blush crept up across Secco's features, stomach turning in sudden knots.
Agitated, he ran a hand over his mask and blew a raspberry, swinging his legs round to hop down, when the sunlight through the window glared in and bounced off the shiny oven knobs. Oh.. oh! What if...? Secco giggled nefariously to himself as the cogs began turning, formulating a plan in his mind.
This plan, Secco thought to himself giddily, was ingenious. It was, of course, a way to get his glucose fix and pass the time. He preened to himself smugly, before promptly realising he had no idea what he was actually doing.
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...An hour passed and progress was painfully slow. Secco had managed to lay out what he thought was an appropriate amount of ingredients, although he was down about three eggs already. (That'd show Cioccolata what he thought of the ''modern art'' along the staircase.)
A recipe book had been procured, the pictures used as a necessary guide on what would prove the tastiest snack. Fervent page-turning paused on a batch of chocolate-chip spotted cookies, perfectly golden and fluffy. Salivating a little too much, Secco daydreamed about having them all to himself-- but then a sudden image of a weary Cioccolata appeared in his mind. Guilt stung at him, recalling other instances where Diavolo had called out Cioccolata for sudden ''business.'' When he left, he fussed to no end for Secco's safety, and when he returned, it was covered in ominous stains and bearing the unmistakable stench of death. There was no doubt in Secco's mind that Cioccolata was exhausted every time, and yet he still went out of his way to pet Secco far too tenderly for a man of his profession, and give in to his every whim: whether that be feeding him plentiful sugar cubes or playing in the garden together.
Maybe he could turn his day around; surprise Cioccolata. Secco, being the spoiled creature that he was, was usually on the receiving end of any gifts exchanged between the two of them. If anything, when Secco felt affectionate enough, he might grant his partner a shiny rock or a cool-shaped leaf. But this time would be different! It'd be special. And who knew, maybe he'd even get a few extra head rubs for his efforts.
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Secco thought that he had built up a steady momentum, albeit with a few bumps along the way. When one's first step was to take a bite out of the raw chunk of butter over washing his hands, it was only to be expected that the end result would be far from conventional.
After spilling half the pantry, Secco had managed to concoct some sort of thick, monstrous sludge, that looked like it'd be more in place in a jungle swamp than in any culinary setting. Still, he'd made something, and even if that something looked like it was about to grow legs and walk off, he was proud all the same. The grand finale would be tomorrow, upon Cioccolata's return: he would bake them not long before Cioccolata was set to arrive, then voilà-- he'd walk through the door just as Secco was taking them out of the oven, fresh and warm just for him!
And so, after a day's hard work of sullying Cioccolata's expensive furniture, Secco retired to the master bedroom, scampering to curl up at the foot of the bed. His heart ached a little when he glimpsed the strangely empty mattress, no green tangles fanning out over the pillows, no rhythmic breaths to help him fall asleep. Not long now. he reassured himself, and let sleep take him.
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Waking up when you were Secco was a groggy affair, especially with no master to bribe you out of bed. Still, even if he had to cheat a little with his Stand, he hauled himself out of bed and made it downstairs. Before eating breakfast, even before brushing his teeth, Secco had something very important to attend to: phoning Cioccolata. Secco's heart rate began to pick up as he fetched his Nokia mobile, shaky hands confirming Cioccolata's contact number. Buzzing with newfound energy, Secco pressed the phone to his ear as it started to dial.
It was picked up almost immediately. ''Hello? Secco, my darling?''
Secco's heart leapt at the sound of his beloved, not able to contain his excitement. ''Cio-Cioccolata!!''
Cioccolata's grin was almost audible. ''Oh, my sweet boy!! How I've missed you! I'll be back soon, as you know.''
Secco rubbed his head against the phone in sheer joy, giggling all the while. ''M-missed you t-too, Cioccolata!!''
Cioccolata laughed freely, causing the audio to crackle a little. ''You've been good, I take it? Not up to any antics, hm?
This time, Secco shook his head wildly, as if Cioccolata was there to see it. ''N-no, Cioccolata, not even once!''
Before Cioccolata could reply, Secco remembered something important. ''O-oh, uh, h-how did the mission go?''
Cioccolata's voice took on more of a sinister tone, but it was endearing as ever to Secco. ''My dear Secco, it was perfect. I just can't wait to come home and see you.~''
Secco burst into a fresh fit of giggles, thinking of how Cioccolata would react to his surprise. ''S-see you s-soon, Cioccolata! Love you!!''
''And I, you, my dear. Be good, okay?''
And with that, phase one of the plan was complete.
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Now, all that was left was getting cookies in the oven. The preheat had already been executed: it was all just a matter of timing. Secco glanced at the big clock by the sink. Cioccolata would be home at noon, and it was now 11:40. Plenty of time for the dough to rise. Secco successfully slid the baking tray onto the oven rack after nearly burning his hands above five times, brow sweating with the herculean effort of Completing A Task.
He flopped onto a stool with a loud exhale, imagining what Cioccolata's reaction would be. He hoped it would be a good one-- a fleeting possibility crossed his mind that he might disappoint Cioccolata... but Cioccolata wasn't like that! He was sure of it.
When the fated time came around, the oven beeped erratically, and Secco scurried to retrieve his masterpiece. He was envisioning soft, light dough, perfectly golden and round treats-
So anything but what was glaring back at him. It looked like frogspawn mixed with chunks of vomit, and that was putting it nicely.
Fuck. Fuck, how could he have messed up this badly?
It was okay. It was salvageable, right? It had to be. Violet irises peered up at the clock once more. 11:56.
W-what?! This- This didn't make sense, it couldn't be happening, it-
To top it all off, as if his life was some cruel comedy special, Secco could hear heavy footsteps coming up the pathway. He dropped the tray abruptly onto the counter, hiding it behind him just as the key turned in the lock.
Cioccolata breathed a sigh of relief, yelling out to his counterpart. ''Darling, I'm back!''
''I-I'm in the k-kitchen, Cioccolata!''
A frown tugged at Cioccolata's features. That was... unlike Secco. Usually he would be greeted with a rambunctious Secco running (or swimming, depending on the day) towards him, but he headed there anyway, amused to see Secco posing strangely in front of the counter.
Cioccolata raised an eyebrow, speaking dryly. ''Are you trying to seduce me?''
Secco spluttered, pink lighting up the tips of his ears. ''What?! No?...Maybe? I-- I made you a gift.'' In his panic, he couldn't stop the truth from coming out.
Cioccolata's expression shifted from teasing to curious, brow furrowing slightly. ''A... gift?''
Secco swallowed as Cioccolata stepped further into the room. ''Um, yeah, it's... uh... ta-da?''
He shamefully moved aside to reveal The Horror he had created.
A beat.
Cioccolata's expression was something entirely new, even Secco couldn't read it. ''Secco,'' he began, ''What is that?''
Oh, god.
''U-um... cookies?'' Secco provided hopefully, squeezing his eyes shut in fear. What if Cioccolata punished him? Now he'd be banished from the kitchen, forced to sleep in a kennel, no more sugar cubes ever-
''Huh?'' Secco wheezed, having the air knocked out of his lungs... by Cioccolata... hugging him?
Cioccolata was squeezing him like an anaconda to its prey, that was to say, tightly.
Secco patted his shoulder awkwardly until he was let down again. Tears shone in his partner's eyes. ''Secco, you baked me this? But why?''
''W-well... you always l-look at me like I hung the stars o-or some shit, I don't know... I just thought...''
Cioccolata rubbed his head affectionately. ''Oh, Secco...'' He sniffed loudly.
(Secco didn't really get the big deal... they were, objectively, atrocious...)
''Clearly, you made this charred creation to symbolise our inherent darkness, and yet, the ''gift'' part represents our love... no matter how twisted, we have one another...''
Oh.
Secco swallowed again, nodding along eagerly. ''Yeah, sure! I, uh, that's wh-what I was going for.''
Cioccolata beamed at him, eyes brimming with affection, and he found his heart flipping despite himself, finally able to relax in Cioccolata's presence. Cioccolata took his gloved hands earnestly. ''Grazie, angelo mio. We can talk more once I put my things upstairs, hm?''
Secco laughed openly. ''O-okay, Doc.''
Phase two: complete? Mission: successful?!
''Secco. SECCO, MY PICASSO! WHAT DID YOU-''
Shit.