Work Text:
The warm bubbly aroma of sweetened soy sauce greeted Kitayama as he opened the door to his apartment. As he toed off his shoes, he took the time to slowly dissect the fragrance. It was the smell of bonito, daikon and miso soup.
“How domestic.” Kitayama teased as he wrapped his arms around the taller boy from behind. The man squeezed his arms a bit and Kitayama buried his nose in the man’s shoulder.
Most of all, it was the smell of Taisuke.