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“You even know what’s in that?”
Charlie doesn’t pause in stuffing food in his mouth, though he looks up at Benny anyway, chewing.
“Who cares?” he mumbles around a mouthful of noodles. “It’s good.”
Charlie’s the one who likes this chink food most out of the three of them - “it’s the pasta”, Meyer snickered, earning a glare from over the table. The Little Man mostly picks at it, though he’s the only one of them who bothered learning how to hold chopsticks.
“Why is that anyways?” Benny interrupts again. “They eat it with sticks? Don’t they got forks over there?”
“Why you care so much?” Charlie huffs, shrugging back in the booth. “Eat your chow. I fuckin’ paid for it.”
Meyer raises his eyebrows, smirking.
“Before you have your dinner and his too, Charlie?”
Charlie snickers into his food, and they share a look - that look, the stupid, smiley one that lets Benny know he’s missed something. He just rolls his eyes, jabbing a fat ball of dough with his fork.
“You two should just get married already.”
Meyer fiddles with his glass of water, hiding his grin. Charlie’s nose wrinkles. “Fuck you.”
Benny pulls the dumpling on his fork apart, stabbing at the meat inside with a look of feigned disgust. “I bet this shit ain’t even kosher.”
“I seen you eat bacon. Quit runnin’ your mouth and eat.” Charlie grumbles. “Besides, Meyer’s eatin’ it too.”
“Meyer’s eating rice, you dumb dago fuck!”
“Benny.”
Meyer interrupted mostly because they were starting to get loud - louder, anyway, than their typical half-shouting indoor volume. But he still watches them both until they settle again, and nods Benny back to the food in front of him.
“Just try it, alright? You aren’t half as picky as I am, and I like it.”
“Fine,” Benny sighs - and notices after finally taking a bite that Meyer and Charlie are staring. .
“...What?”
“Is he dead?” Meyer asks Charlie, his tone so severe it’s exaggerated even for him.
“What?” Benny says, blinking between them.
“Not yet he ain’t.” Charlie says, folding his hands over his fork. “Give it a minute.”
“What? What'd you do? What??”
They nod somberly - before both of them start laughing, the table clattering with the fork Charlie drops.
“Shut up!” Benny yelps, kicking at their legs under the table. “I oughta shoot both of you!”
“You’re a putz, Ben.” Charlie wheezes, moving over a little so Benny can’t reach his shins.
“We wouldn’t pick on you if you didn’t complain so much, you know.” Meyer tries to apologize, but he’s still grinning, and Benny scowls.
“Fuck you.” He sulks, scooping another dumpling and contemplating flicking it at Charlie’s head.
“Eat, Benny.” Meyer sighs.
“I’m gonna be hungry again in an hour anyways!”
“Eat, meshuggener.” Charlie gives him that look, the one that says this is final, no more fucking arguments. “Stop bellyachin’ and I’ll get ya some spumoni.”
“You’re the one who likes that shit, not me.” Benny frowns.
“...Meyer.” Charlie glances to his partner again, extremely serious. “We gotta get a new one.”
Meyer’s brows furrow. “A new what, Charlie?”
“A new kid!" Charlie exclaims, gesturing to Benny. "This one’s broke. He don’t like ice cream.”
This time Benny does throw something at Charlie’s head, though the carton’s mostly empty.
“I fucking hate both of you!”
“Don’t worry, Benny.” Meyer laughs, handing Charlie a handkerchief to wipe the spatter of sauce from his cheek. “We’ll get you strawberry.”