Work Text:
The sizzling of the pan on the stove filled the kitchen, along with steaming heat and popping grease. Mushrooms were gently sliced by a careful hand, the tapping of the knife on the cutting board monotonous, rhythmic. Nigou watched from his place on the floor, patient for scraps.
Kuroko paused in his cooking to smile down at him, wiping his hands on the apron he borrowed from Kagami to scratch behind fuzzy ears.
In all honesty, Kuroko wasn't really one for cooking. He wasn't particularly bad at it, but he also wasn't particularly good at it. If he had a recipe in front of him, then he could make simple dishes and decent desserts. He just didn't enjoy mixing ingredients, or stirring things in pots and pans, or watching the gentle rise of a cake.
But sometimes he wanted to cook. It's just that he didn't get much of an opportunity to cook. Not with Kagami living in the same apartment.
When Kuroko moved into Kagami's huge apartment after high school, making the space look a little less big, his boyfriend automatically took up cooking duties. Every night, they had a different dish for dinner—some American, some Japanese, and some that Kuroko had a hard time identifying their origins. The only thing they all had in common was that they were delicious and were presented with Kagami's boyishly proud grin.
Admittedly, doing dishes together after—Kuroko washing, Kagami drying and putting away in the high cabinets—was one of his favorite things.
He had offered to take over some of the cooking duties, just to give Kagami a break from the stove, but Kagami had merely shrugged and said, "I've been cooking for myself this long. If anything, it's nice to have someone else to cook for."
However, Kuroko was anything if not stubborn. So whenever Kagami was out late, either for basketball practice or group projects due the next day, Kuroko would sneak and have dinner ready for when he got home. At first, he felt mildly guilty since Kagami seemed to enjoy cooking for him so much, but the awed, wide-eyed look on Kagami's face at coming home to dinner replaced that guilt with a fierce pride and happiness that nearly overwhelmed him.
It was then that he learned Kagami simply loved having someone answer his quiet, "I'm home," with a warm, "Welcome back."
Much like tonight, as Kuroko heard the front door twist open and loud footsteps stop in the entryway. Nigou perked up, tail already wagging and joyfully yipping towards the living room. Kuroko didn't look up from the counter, finishing the last of the mushrooms and flipping the burgers in the pan.
"Welcome home, Taiga-kun," he called over his shoulder, grabbing hamburger buns out of the cabinet. "Dinner is almost ready."
There was no answer in return. Just more footsteps padding through to the kitchen, stopping right behind him. And then warm arms wrapped around his middle, squeezing his waist with a strength that took his breath.
A smile slowly crept on his face. "Taiga-kun, why do you do this whenever I decide to make dinner?"
Kagami shrugged and nuzzled the top of his head, rubbing his face into the soft of his hair.
"That's not an answer."
A series of kisses spread from the top of his head, down along his nape and the bony knob of his spine. Until Kagami was nipping at his neck, teeth stinging his skin. His canines found the sensitive dip of his shoulder, and Kuroko nearly forgot all about dinner.
"Still not an answer," he said as a shiver stole down his body.
Kuroko couldn't see him, but he knew if he turned, he'd see a very familiar smirk.
For reasons he didn't quite understand, Kagami always got like this when he cooked. Whether Kuroko was at the stove, standing in front of the fridge, or peeking into the oven, Kagami would sidle right up to him like they were opposite polarities. Hugging against his back and rubbing his face against Kuroko's shoulder blades.
Like a big, domesticated tiger.
While it could be so very distracting and resulted in a few burned dinners, and sugar mixed with salt, Kuroko would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. Mostly because he could feel how touched and malleable Kagami was, fuzzy around the edges with love.
Kuroko kept his eyes on the pans, but his fingers tangled with the hold on his waist. "Is it because I'm using your kitchen?"
Kagami bit into his shoulder.
Kuroko's smile grew wider, melting into something soft and vulnerable. "So it is."
With that, Kuroko thought he could understand the sentiment. Kagami fascinated with Kuroko doing something he loved, something they could enjoy together. After all, Kuroko did the same thing whenever Kagami curiously picked up one of his books, or quickly patted Nigou on the head, or sat down to watch an animal documentary with him.
He patted at Kagami's hand before he got too lost in how happy he was.
"Watch out, please," he warned, grabbing the cutting board of diced mushrooms. "I'm getting ready to sauté these."
As he carefully brushed the mushrooms into the pan of melted butter, he heard a strange noise in his ear. Not a noise from the kitchen. A noise that sounded suspiciously like a quiet groan escaping from a throat.
Kuroko finally turned to his redhead, curious and confused. "...Taiga-kun?"
"Say it again," Kagami muttered, the first words he'd spoken since he'd gotten home.
"Watch out, please?"
"No, the other thing."
"...Sauté?"
"Yes."
He blinked. Then he couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled from his mouth, louder than the hamburger on the stove and the mushrooms in the pan. His elbow swung out to land in Kagami's ribs with a gentle nudge. "Quit that."
He felt more than heard Kagami's answering grin. "But you're after my own heart with words like that."
Another giggle as he knocked his forehead to Kagami's temple. "We're already together, Taiga-kun."
"Then you're definitely trying to get in my pants."
Kuroko took a moment to pretend to contemplate, and hummed thoughtfully. "If I had known that all it would take is culinary terms to get in your pants, I would have cooked for you long ago."
Kagami nodded with utmost seriousness. "It's a shame. You could've taken advantage of me all this time." He shrugged. "Your waste."
Lips pulled into a pout, Kuroko reached to poke his nose teasingly. "Only one cheeseburger for you. For dismissing my disappointment so easily."
"You can't do that," Kagami said as he chased after Kuroko's finger with his teeth. "That's spousal abuse."
Kuroko froze, head turned fully to just stare at Kagami. His boyfriend just stared back, a brow arched confusedly and his head tilted. Licking his lips, Kuroko opened his mouth, but it still took him a few tries to get it out.
"We're not married, Taiga-kun."
Honestly, he'd expected Kagami to blush and pull away, flustered by his slip-up that would take days for him to get over. But while he did still blush, pretty red coloring his cheekbones, he never looked away from Kuroko. He didn't even stutter when he answered.
"...Yet."
Then Kuroko was blushing too, cotton candy pink staining his face.
They had become so seamlessly intertwined in each other's lives, blending together like painting a homey masterpiece. He had never once questioned if Kagami was right for him or if Kagami made him happy, because the answer was so obvious. And so he'd never thought of them becoming even more than what they were, because how could something so perfect get even better.
Kuroko wasn't sure when Kagami had become synonymous with home, but at that moment, all he knew was that he always wanted dinner with this man.
Before he could respond, the smell of smoke filtered between them, subtle and faint. But that was enough to send Kagami tearing fries out of the oven and Kuroko pulling pans off of burners. The burgers charred slightly, still smoking, and the mushrooms were shriveled to almost nothing.
When they looked at each other again, the smoke alarms overhead started going off. And before either could stop it, they were laughing, loud and echoing.
Yet, Kuroko agreed in his head as they saved what they could of their dinner.
Yet.