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The sleep-induced haze evaporates when Tamaki realizes the beeping is, in fact, not coming from his alarm, but from the smoke detector instead. By the time he scrambles into the kitchen, Mirio already has the window overlooking the sink open, gently fanning away smoke with one hand and acknowledging Tamaki’s presence with the other.
“Tamaki! What great timing, I have a cooking related question for you!” Mirio asks enthusiastically, hastily removing the skillet from the stovetop and flinging the contents into the sink. “Can omelettes be considered ‘well done’, like steaks can?”
“Mirio.”
“Happy birthday, by the way! I hope you like your omelettes well done!”
“I thought I said I didn’t want anything fancy for my birthday, which includes breakfast.”
Mirio clucks his tongue impatiently, as he slides the glass shut. “If ya wanna get technical here, I didn’t. Breakfast was as big as it was gonna get today,” he says, making a gesture towards their living room; china, part of the set Nejire gave them five years ago, is neatly arranged and looking comically out of place on the old kotatsu they bought when they first moved to their flat at the same time. Tamaki is about to point out the irony of the cutlery when his eyes drift to the television screen, paused on a title screen for an anime. Then he catches Mirio in the act of sheepishly digging out something slimy and black from the sink basin, and bites back a snort when he reluctantly tosses it in the garbage.
“I don’t know what I was expecting for a birthday breakfast, but it wasn’t a burnt omelette on our nice wedding china, while watching Nichijou,” Tamaki says in a strained voice. Mirio finally succumbs to laughter, and soon after Tamaki follows suit.
“Okay, one, Nichijou is my gold standard for comedy anime, and I know you like it, too! Two, what's the point of having china, if we don't ever use it? And give me credit where it’s due - I didn’t burn the rice!” Mirio rattles off, unsnapping the lid to their rice cooker and peering inside. “Yeah, it’s totally fine,” he confirms, and a lazy grin stretches across his features.
Tamaki reaches into one of the cupboards, pulling out a package of nori. “You know, I’m fine with onigiri. Might as well finish this package off, there’s only four sheets left.”
“I don't think we have anymore umeboshi, though - but I'm cool with plain, if you are, Tamaki.”
“That's fine. Can you grab the plates, then?”
Wetting his hands, Tamaki scoops up a tacky ball of rice while Mirio grabs their plates. The grains stick between his fingers as he gingerly wraps a sheet of nori around one, carefully situating it on one of the plates. He forms the rolls bigger than usual, and nudges them towards Mirio, who obediently takes them to the kotatsu. When Tamaki finally joins him, Mirio wastes no time snuggling up against his side.
“Sorry you had to make your own birthday breakfast,” Mirio says into Tamaki’s arm. Tamaki’s fingers reflexively curl into Mirio’s hair, and hums softly. “Also sorry setting off the smoke detector, I promise I have no idea how that happened.”
Tamaki eyes the garbage in the kitchen - and snorts when he catches Mirio quickly looking away from the same area with a less than innocent expression on his face. “Your guess is as good as mine," he replies, and with a content sigh, begins a day he knows is going to be perfect, no matter what happens.