Chapter Text
I am always falling in love in kitchens. Or rather, I suppose it’s not so much that I’m falling in love in kitchens but that I’m always realising I’m in love in kitchens; that the kind of love I love to fall into is the kind of love that’s most at home in the kitchen; a domestic kind of love; an intimate, easy, buttery kind of love.
Suguru gets rudely woken up by an elbow in the ribs. He groans and burrows his face deeper in his pillow. He has no idea what time it is, but he’s sure it’s too early to be awake. He stretches his legs and accidentally kicks his partner. The latter mutters something, his voice muffled by the covers and pillows he has buried himself under. Suguru lets out an interrogative sound. The mass of blankets move until the bottom of a face emerges.
“I said, your feet are cold, go away.” The face immediately disappears back into the blankets.
“Of course I’m cold, you’re hogging all the blankets!” Suguru immediately winces at the sound of his own voice, too loud. Way too fucking loud. He groans again.
The mass of blankets opens, and moves as fast as lightning to come trap him under. Suguru finds himself face to face with a sleep rumpled Satoru. He can’t help the smile that takes over his face. Satoru looks miserable. He’s probably hungover.
“Hey,” Suguru starts and waits until Satoru hums in reply to show he’s listening, before he continues, “we need to stop drinking so much.”
“Why.”
“Well, I dreamt of you last night-”
“Kinky.” Satoru cuts him off, with a sly smirk.
“You had magical powers and you killed me.”
Satoru raises a brow, “Ah. Yeah maybe we can cut back just a little.” He yawns and gets closer to Suguru, putting his head on his chest with the obvious intent to go back to sleep. Suguru likes this plan. He also likes that Satoru is so warm and soft against him. He falls back asleep in mere seconds.
The second time, Suguru is startled awake just as rudely as the first. This time though, it’s by a child who’s yelling that he’s hungry and there’s nothing left to eat in this house. As much as Suguru would like to just ignore him, he can’t. First, because ignoring a child, especially that one, could end up with cops at the door asking about child neglect. Second, because Megumi is eight years old and playing in the Little League, which means, that kid will eat literally anything that’s put in front of him. So if he says there’s nothing to eat, it is then very likely there is absolutely nothing left to eat. Which sucks a lot, both for the hungry kid and for the heavily hungover grown-ups.
Suguru gets his head out from under the blankets to look at the kid standing in the doorway.
“Okay, Megumi. Give us a few minutes.” The kid nods and leaves.
Suguru looks to his right to find Satoru still asleep. Good. Wouldn’t want him to wake up and actually take care of his kid, now, would we. Suguru slaps the back of his head, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make sure the idiot is awake. Satoru startles a bit and tries to swat his hand away.
“Wah- What was that for?”
“We need to go grocery shopping,” He stops for a second, slaps him again for good measure. “Come on, wake up, lazy.” Satoru whines. “Up, up, up! Your kid is eating us out of home! Get. Up.”
“Well,” Satoru starts as he rubs his eyes, “He is a growing kid after all.” He sits up and smiles as his gaze falls on Suguru who’s already out of bed and reaching for clean clothes in the dresser.
“Doesn’t matter, he’s your responsibility,” Satoru rolls his eyes at Suguru behind his back, “Get your ass up and come with me. Now. Chop chop.” Suguru turns around and throws a pair of pants and a hoodie on the bed, before throwing a rolled up pair of socks right at Satoru’s face.
“Ugh fine, I’m coming.” Satoru whines again as he lets himself fall back down on the bed.
Suguru leaves him there and walks to the kitchen, crossing the living room where Megumi is watching Pokemon, sitting on the floor way too close to the TV. Suguru ponders for a second whether he should tell him off or leave him be, finally deciding to mind his business and not say anything. In the kitchen, every cupboard is opened, there’s water on the counter that’s slowly dripping down the side.
“Megumi,” he calls, “can you come here and clean up your mess, please?” He hears a huff, quickly followed by footsteps. He grins when Megumi comes in, looking disgruntled. It’s funny really, how that kid always acts annoyed and put-upon, but will do anything he’s asked without acting out. Suguru knows how much Satoru worries about screwing the kid up and breaking him. To be perfectly honest, even though Suguru isn't about to say it out loud, Satoru is actually doing amazingly well for someone who got thrust into parenthood with hardly any notice, especially after the wild ride that were his late teenage years as well as the beginning of his adulthood. He’s doing so much more than just okay, but won’t hear it. Not yet. Suguru has tried, but for some reasons, it always leads to a fight. And after the last fight, which ended with Satoru asking him what he knows about this because he’s not a father, Suguru decided to stop mentioning it. At least, for a while.
One day, Satoru will be ready to hear and accept the fact that he’s a wonderful father.
For now, though : “Satoru!” Suguru yells at the top of his lungs. “Hurry the hell up! We have to go to the shop to feed your little monster!”
Suguru hears Satoru yells back obscenities he really shouldn’t say since there is a kid in hearing range. But the childish laughter that comes from Megumi makes him smile, and he decides to keep the reprimand to himself this time.
And so, after another forty minutes, everyone is ready to go. Fucking finally.
They go to the nearest grocery store, and contrary to popular beliefs, the father acts like a gigantic child, while the actual child sits quietly in the trolley, reading a comic book, only interrupting himself to roll his eyes to his father’s antics.
And Suguru smiles. He can’t help himself. No matter how put upon he tries to look, he always ends up smiling or laughing at Satoru’s little acts.
Dear Lord, he is so soft for that absolute idiot. They’ve been dating for so long, Suguru should be used to it. He’s known Satoru since their early childhoods. They were best friends from the very first day they started primary school, joined at the hip. They’ve lived together since they graduated high school. Suguru was there when Satoru got custody over Megumi. They are the cliché couple with the white picket fence house, a kid and two dogs. They do the grocery together, he nags Satoru about the dirty dishes left in the sink to rot, Satoru nags him about his dirty smelly socks left on the floor. Suguru should be used to it all by now, still he can’t help smiling and falling for Satoru all over again.
Every time he looks at his beloved, he falls in love all over again, like it’s the first time, like it’s a whole new feeling.
I love him so much it hurts sometimes.
Once they get home, it’s nearing lunchtime and the three of them are eager for an actual meal, not just pop tarts. And so, naturally, Satoru takes the lead in the kitchen. And Megumi trails after him, like a lost pup, until Satoru takes pity on him and settles him at the counter with a small task. Suguru is sitting on the other side of the counter, his laptop opened on the work emails he’s been putting off for days now. He knows he should be replying but he’s too busy watching the love of his life cooking.
Satoru is so at ease there, moving with grace, getting utensils without even looking, swaying his hips to the rhythm of the soft music coming from Suguru’s laptop, humming under his breath, completely unbothered, free in a way he never is once he leaves the house. Sometimes, he pats Megumi’s head as he passes, drops a kiss on his forehead, and checks on his progress.
“I love you.” Suguru says quietly, so quietly he thinks the words won’t even reach him.
But they do. They always do. It’s like Satoru is tuned in a particular wavelength that allows him to always hear Suguru.
Satoru looks up from the cutting board and smiles his brightest toothy grin at him. “So do I, love. So do I.”