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The eggshell cracks down the middle when it meets the edge of the pan. It opens, sizzling and popping as it spills its contents. With tired eyes, Yokozawa Takafumi makes breakfast for the Kirishima’s and himself before going to work. He rubs the sleep from his eyes while scrambling the eggs, dreading the stress that Thursdays bring.
Two hands hold his waist, a pair of lips on his hairline, “Good morning.”
Too exhausted to protest, Yokozawa simply hums. The yolk and whites mix as they cook. “Morning…”
Kirishima’s lips travel to his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. He rests his chin on the salesman’s shoulder, “You couldn’t sleep last night, huh?”
His brows twitch as he looks away, “...Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Another kiss to the collarbone, “That’s alright, I know I need to get a new mattress. Is it too firm?”
“Huh?” He remarks, “It’s way too soft. What is that thing made of, goose feathers?”
He brings him into a hug as he laughs, “I was joking! We need to get one of those… temper..? What’s it called again?”
“It’s fine,” Yokozawa turns off the stove, distributing the eggs amongst the three plates, “I’m just more used to sleeping alone, I guess.”
“Mmm...” Kirishima nuzzles his nose into his cheek, “I love you.”
“Quit spouting that cheesy shit, idiot,” he struggles out of the editor’s grip, “Hiyo’s gonna come soon.” Yokozawa, while saying this, realizes an error in his routine. This morning, the alarm roused him from sleep, not Hiyori. No wonder something had felt off. And, with her pillow-punching method, it was rare for her to sleep in…
“Is something wrong?” Kirishima queries, seeing the concern on his partner’s face.
“N-no,” the toast pops up, “Can you go wake Hiyo up?”
“Ah,” His eyes widen, “That’s right. She’s usually up by now. I’ll be right back.”
“‘Kay.”
Yokozawa plucks the hot bread from the toaster, trying to shift his focus from nonsensical worrying to making a presentable plate. He uncaps the strawberry jam, slathering a hefty amount onto his slice of toast. He spreads a little smiley face on Hiyori’s and a heart --which he swore to himself was purely accidental-- on Zen’s. Yet, he can’t help but grin at the little symbols.
“Oh, is this one for me?”
Yokozawa jumps when he hears Kirishima’s voice behind him. His arm reaches across his torso, picking up the heart-covered piece of toast.
Yokozawa flips around, “No-!”
Kirishima takes a bite with a smirk, “You sure?” He brings the other hand to the waistband of Yokozawa’s pants, playing with the elastic.
Yokozawa was now wide awake, his lover making him teem with frustration.
“...Good morning, Onii-chan…” Hiyori groggily wanders into the kitchen.
“AH!” Yokozawa pushes Kirishima away, “G-Good morning!”
Kirishima leans over once again, their chests brushing, “Here’s your breakfast, Hiyo,” he picks up the other plate and hands it to his daughter.
“Thank you, father…” Hiyo takes the plate to the dining table, dragging her feet along the ground.
Kirishima blows Yokozawa one last kiss as he takes his plate, joining his daughter in a sleepy breakfast.