Chapter Text
Horses for courses, but tonight Isak felt like he owed Even something to make up for all the school and social stress he went through and dumped on him this week. It was protocol- actually no, it was basically a law that Isak was never to touch the kitchen, even when Even was around to supervise. But fuck it Isak thought, and quickly googled a ‘romantic dinner for two’ recipe whilst walking home from the park where he had earlier been with Sana. The first link that came up was some guy named Jamie Oliver which had a ‘chicken milanese with spaghetti‘ recipe with the difficulty being not too tricky. “Suits me” Isak thought, and entered the first food shop he came by to buy the ingredients before coming home. Luckily Isak knew that Even wasn’t home until later, since he was at work, which should theoretically give him enough time to fuck it all up and restart again.
Step one: Peel and finely slice the garlic. Yupp, can do. Damn, these are some serious MasterChef vibes he’s getting already. Goodness knows why Isak doesn’t do this more often. Might as well step up the game whilst he’s ahead. He goes and gets an onion and begins to ‘finely dice’ it like he’s seen Chef Even do a thousand times before, always in awe of how such fine and well crafted hands of his can perform such delicate movements.
Hands…. Even’s hands… I mean: Even’s hands. Can anyone really say they’ve seen true beauty if they haven’t seen those hands. Them that had held him, stroked him, touched him in plac-
No, stahp that Isak. Snap out of it. (Ayyyee snap- as in snapback) Jjsafkjsj stop it, just concentrate, Isak argued to himself in his little dazed head. Focus on the onion, yes, a simple task that is bound to make your hella hot boyfriend swoon over you before he even gets a chance to eat it.
In the awe of the moment of Isak filling himself with false hope that this cooking was going to go well, he started to feel a very persistent and tingly sensation in his eyes, which then forced himself to cry, his face scrunching up, and he placed the knife in the sink, away from any possible damage that could happen to anything or anyone. Eeeejj fy, it stings like a motherfucker, damn, Even is so lucky to have ME sacrifice my time and my tears to make him this romantic meal for him.
The tears kept on coming and coming, with every drop running down his chin making him more in love with the thought of how proud Even would be of him when he gets home to find all the sweat and tears (hopefully no blood) that Isak has put into making this meal. He just stood there in the kitchen, slowly breathing in and out to calm his eyes down, with his hands on the counter and his body weight shifting towards it, just when the apartment door made that familiar sound of being unlocked from the outside and opened.
“Heisa” Even called to Isak from the entrance, his voice carrying a light, fluttering tone. Shit! Isak thought, nei, nei, nei, Even no. I love you dude and all, but couldn’t you have waited like an hour later to come home and given myself a chance to redeem my handsomeness? I mean yes, I’m a hot mess right now, but you haven’t given me time to finish this dinner for you- And what are you doing home already?? You’re meant to be at work and- Even interrupted Isak’s thoughts (which, btw, were going at approx. 10 000 thoughts /minute) by hugging him from behind, sliding his arms around his torso, aligning their two bodies together like they had done a million times before, whilst perfectly placing his face into Isak’s neck and decorating his jawline with beautiful, small pecks.
“What is it you’re doing?” asked Even, using that low, soft, buttery voice of his. “What is it I’m doing?? What is it you’re doing home this early!?” Isak inquired back quickly enough to wipe away the newest stream of tears that had left his eyes. Even noticed this movement immediately and decided to act delicately in response to this “I-, work. Work didn’t really want me there, to, work-” He paused, loosening his grip and moving so that his back was leaning against the kitchen counter, the two bodies now side by side. “Isak? What is it? What- why? What’s happening?” The worried look glancing all over Isak’s body, resulting in Even bringing his hand closest to Isak up to Isak’s chin, turning it so that they were now face to face. “It’s nothing. I just decided to make dinner for us, since you’ve been so supportive with the exams and the stress and it’s all gone tits up and I’m crying and…. and I wanted to do something for you.” Isak looked into Even’s eyes, making sure to send the message that this was actually 100% pure truth, wiping away another stream of tears making their way down his soft™ face.
“Isak, though..” His low voice activated again. Even saw the situation as how it was and chose not to question it, but instead to enjoy it. I mean, he did just attempt to do the impossible that is to cook, Even thought. Without any further speculation about it, he took Isak’s hand in his, whispered a “come” to him, nodded towards the kitchen door with a calm expression and lead him out of the kitchen into their dining room/living room/bedroom- call it what you like, but it’s their room, and sat Isak down onto the bed next to him, both backs against the wall, both bodies side by side, linked together by the hip. The sun was still in the sky, not even having a passing thought about coming down for the night. The birds were having a dandy time outside and the local children too (for their balcony doors were open due to the heat). Everything in that moment was relaxed. Quiet. Calm. Which now included the tear-faced Isak, as he had gotten his breath back and his eyesight free of tears.
“So” Even said, looking at Isak, his body slightly turned towards him and their hands still intertwined, in a voice that wasn't quiet enough for a whisper, but also not loud enough for the opposite wall to hear either, “Tell me -
- Hva skjer?”