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Kenma didn't have a coffee maker in his flat.
Kuro had tried to trick him into getting one, saying it would be both less of a burden when he wanted coffee, and an easy way to get hot water for Kenma's tea. They went out to buy home appliances and, while Kuro lusted over expensive coffee machines, Kenma bought the electric kettle he'd been wanting for a while.
He didn't need the coffee maker at all - he got his caffeine from energy drinks at night, and black tea in the morning. Shouyou couldn't deal with caffeine at all; he was hyper and energetic as it was, any drugs would probably send him into overdrive. When Kuro saw what it was that Kenma had bought, and Kenma saw his face of sorrow, he just shrugged.
"Buy yourself a coffee filter," he had said, and nudged Kuro to follow him out of the shop.
Every morning, instead of the cups of coffee most people thought he needed and enjoyed, he drank a big mug of black tea. It was far nicer than the other beverage, so much so that it made up for the smaller amount of caffeine. The one really bad side to it was how it usually unsettled his stomach if he didn't eat anything beforehand. Since an early bird had practically moved in with him, though, it wasn't that big of an issue.
Shouyou woke up before him, always, even though his sleep was ridiculously heavier than Kenma's. His internal clock was just that strong, and never failed to get him out of bed some time before 9 am. Kenma was woken up by the lack of warmth next to him on the bed - or by soft caresses and the burning of a gaze, if Shouyou decided to get out of bed together.
In the beginning of their relationship, Shouyou was nothing short of a terrible cook. He was a disaster, really, and the few foods he knew how to make were poorly done. Kenma taught him what he knew, but that wasn't much - Morisuke and, well, Google had saved them both and been their biggest allies. They were both average in the kitchen, now, but Shouyou wanted to get better and tried to make them breakfast everyday.
Kenma walked into the kitchen yawning, the smell of something buttery filling the entire apartment. Shouyou was sitting on the kitchen counter, browsing through his phone, but he raised his head when Kenma approached. (How he always knew when Kenma entered a room, anyone had yet to find out, because Kenma's steps were soft and silent. Maybe there was a sixth sense involved.)
"Kenma!" Shouyou smiled and put his phone down, jumping from the counter and landing heavily on the floor.
"Hnn," the blonde hummed in response, walking closer and resting his forehead on Shouyou's shoulder, and his boyfriend soothingly ran his hand up and down his back. "What's for breakfast?"
"Buttermilk biscuits," Shouyou said, and the twang of pride in his voice was unmistakable.
"Tasty," Kenma whispered, raising his head and looking for Shouyou's lips. They kissed, chaste and soft and quick, a few times. The redhead's mouth tasted like batter, but it was so pleasant that Kenma kept chasing after his kisses.
"Kenma," he giggled, hands on the blonde's shoulders, not quite pushing him away. "Kenma, I," kiss, "have to," kiss, "get the," Shouyou finally pushed Kenma a little bit further, "biscuits out of the oven."
Reluctantly, the blonde sighed and pulled away. He felt soft and needy, most mornings, more affectionate than ever. Shouyou usually made the first move at any other given time, but when he was sleepy and his inhibitions were down, Kenma couldn't help it.
The biscuits were golden and smelled sinfully delicious. Shouyou sprinkled powdered sugar on top, and smiled at Kenma, clearly hoping for feedback.
"They look wonderful," he said, and looked around subtly. Didn't say anything, but he didn't have to.
"Ah, your tea!" The redhead rushed for a mug, messily filling and switching the electric kettle on. "Sorry, Kenma, I'm so sorry, I forgot, the-"
"It's okay, Shouyou," Kenma muttered, reaching for his hand and clutching it lightly, for reassurance. It was effective in making him deflate back into his normal state, and brush away the blooming anxiety.
When they had first met, no one could've predicted their friendship, any part of it. Both of them were small and skinny, belittled by rivals but actually driving forces of their teams. Shouyou was a loud beginner with little to no skill, and Kenma was quiet and analytical, both in the court and outside of it. They were pretty different, and didn't have a reason to befriend each other; they did it, though, and started dating after a few months.
Kenma was the one who was capable of relaxing Shouyou, more than anyone else. It was almost like he paused the redhead, and then he wound down. Not that he got worked up as much or as often anymore.
He insisted on preparing Kenma's tea, and on making the 'table' pretty even though it was just the two of them, and it wasn't a table, but a countertop. There was no actual table in the flat - Shouyou pointed that out after over a dozen visits.
"Kenma?" He had said. They were in the bedroom, both on the bed, Kenma working and Shouyou playing a game on his phone.
"Mm?"
"Do you have a table?"
That had made him stop what he was doing, and raise his head. He looked back at Shouyou, who had a completely puzzled look on his face. "I don't, actually. Should I get one?"
He knew he didn't need it, really. He did his work on his bed, or on that one tall kitchen counter. He ate on the latter. What would he need a table for?
"No, I don't think." Shouyou grinned, "Not at all."
He ended up getting used to the no-table lifestyle too, and so they treated the counter as their pseudotable - it did the job wonderfully well. Shouyou would put down plates and cutlery, glasses and mugs, with cloth napkins that had cute kiddy patterns on them. Getting it to look nice and tidy was something relaxing to him, Kenma had noticed, so he never intruded. He watched as the mood ebbed away into something lighter, and grinned back when things were ready and his boyfriend turned to him.
"Come on," Shouyou called, nodding to the other stool, across from him. There was a sweet glitter in his eyes, enthusiastic, and it stirred something tender inside of Kenma.
They started eating and Shouyou flowed them into conversation naturally, without a missed beat. He went on about a new animated show he'd began watching, and Kenma was only paying a little bit of attention to what he was saying. Usually, he listened whole-heartedly, but there was something pawing at his chest, something he couldn't repress.
Shouyou glowed, like he was straight out of a dream. Kenma had thought once before about how Shouyou was like the sun, and wondered how he loved him even though he wasn't a fan of the sun itself.
His brain suggested the theory that Shouyou was, actually, the winter sun. Subtle and through clouds, warm and pleasant when everything else is a menace. Nothing was nicer, more comfortable, than the boy; he was chased after, a rarity, something to hope for, something to miss. Just like the sun in the harsh winter, he was cold rain on a hot day, a rainbow after a storm. Unexpected, never unwelcome.
Kenma zoned back into the conversation, his tea growing cold and his biscuits still untouched. Shouyou was already on the noises - woosh, hwah, sching, ploom -, and the blonde held back a snort and spread butter on a biscuit, finally taking a bite, and a sip.
"Only season one is out, though," Shouyou sighed, excitement decreasing as he set down his previously excited hands on the cold stone of the countertop. "I mean, yeah, I haven't even finished it yet, but I already want more!"
"Mhm," Kenma smiled behind his mug, and Shouyou blinked at him. "I'll watch it with you."
"Yeah?" The redhead's eyes widened, excitement swelling right back to full size. "I think you'll like it, Kenma."
"I think so too."
"Really?"
"Yes. If you like it, I bet I will, too."
Shouyou's grin took up his whole face, and he downed two biscuits in three bites. That same fond thing thrummed within the blonde, like sparks before a firework fills out.
"We can watch it after breakfast," Shouyou suggested, a bit uncertain.
"Yeah." Kenma took a big sip of black tea, wincing a bit at the bitterness, but exhaled softly. "After breakfast."