Work Text:
Who cleans the most? Contrary to that, who is the messiest?
Thermite had been a messy boy who hoards a lot of electronics and other books related to his work, but he decided to put everything in his study room because any other place around the house was supposed to be their sanctuary for relaxation (and he didn’t want to have Aruni clean up his stuff - one being that she is also busy with her work, and two being that he knows how scary she becomes when she’s mad.) Aruni likes to keep her environment clean, so she always keeps herself busy and gets Thermite to look after their house together.
Who usually cooks?
They take turns in being the dedicated chef for the day, but at times Aruni wants to eat Thai food all week because she craves for the spice and specific flavour that’s only available in Thai cuisine. When she’s too tired or lazy, Aruni would make ‘Kai Jeaw.’ Beat at least two or three eggs until it forms a bubble, season it with salt or fish sauce, pour it in a hot and oiled pan, and place the omelette on rice. Thermite tried to make it while making his own breakfast, but he had a habit of cooking anything that sizzled with his bacon grease. Aruni wasn’t a big fan of that. He asked whether they need two pans, and that’s when Aruni suggested buying a wok. A dedicated wok where they could cook Thai food (and sometimes he uses it to fry his sausages and vegetables there because it magically tastes better.) Thank you EllieSurvivor for this information!
She also told him about the existence of ‘American Fried Rice,’ which had Thermite chuckle, “what, do they finally use some bacon with it?” This earned him a light smack from her prosthetic arm and she cared to explain. She said (and I am also borrowing this from EllieSurvivor, our bonafide Thai,) “It's rice fried up with ketchup, tiny chopped onions, and raisins, sometimes these are replaced with peas, corn, and tiny cubed carrots. It’s served with a fried egg, usually sunny-side up on top, and a bit of fried chicken. We usually have it with a single drumstick, and a bit of ham and sausages on the side.” He had experience in making fried chicken, so that’s their Thai/American night dinner together.
Who tends to worry the most?
Funnily enough, Thermite worries over Aruni but he tries not to show it because he knows that she doesn’t want to be mollycoddled or treated like a fragile being. He often packs a spare battery and cables when they go out for a long period of time, fearing that her prosthetic might lose power or break down. He also volunteers to drive, and at first Aruni didn’t think much of it.
Then one the day when she hopped into the driver’s seat, Thermite rubbed the sweat off of his palms. He stood next to the door, gave her a smile and wink, “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ll drive.”
Aruni smiled back, “that’s alright. We can take turns.”
He insisted, ignoring the tiny tug of knot in his chest, “come on, sunshine. Let me treat you-”
“Hop on in, Jordan.” She was still cheery and positive, but the firm undertone was also there when his name was called instead of their usual endearment.
Thermite had no option other than to obey. They clicked the seatbelts on, veered out of the parking lot and drove in silence. Highly unusual, because the first thing they did in the car was to blast out Bruno Mars and sing their lungs out. The sudden shift of mood prickled his skin, which soon developed into a mild itch. No matter - Thermite didn’t want her to see him scratching his bumpy, burn-mark ridden hands, so he shifted to hide them under his thighs.
“Do you want to have the shower first when we get home?” He wanted a breather, a change, anything to ventilate the suffocating tension.
“I don’t mind. You can go first.” Aruni took a sharp corner that lurched their bodies to the side.
“Whoa, there.” He chuckled while tightening his grasp on the seat, “this feels just like my first rodeo.”
“Jordan,” she called out to him again, “is there something that you're not telling me?”
It was too soon for him to say anything about his worries; not when he didn’t know how to articulate them properly. “No? What makes you say that?”
“Oh, you know,” The car coasted smoothly through the highway as she laid a foot onto the throttle, “you seemed a little tense when I sat here to drive.”
“Me, tense?” He looked out the window, but kept his eyes on the blurry reflection of his girlfriend. “I don’t know what you mean. Tired, maybe. But not tense.”
“I see.” The car gradually slowed down and came to a halt. Judging by the hue that loomed over them, it was obvious that Aruni stopped at the red light. “Okay. If you say so.”
“Yeah, of course babe.” Thermite closed his eyes and bit his lips. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Cool. It felt like you didn’t want me to drive. Actually, maybe it's been like that for a while,” the car lurched forward. He tensed his body as the motion had him pressing into the seat. It took him a while to process what he heard, and before he could respond, she continued, “I feel like you don't want me to drive in general, because you are always the first to grab the wheel. So it got me thinking-”
Thermite could sense where this was going. “Wait-”
“-it got me thinking that, you know, because of what happened back in Bangkok.”
The brief flashback splashed into his peripheral; the dire moments of his cutter hovering over the wires to cut, with Aruni yelling at him to hurry before they had to refuel. The truck crashed into them and the explosion set everything aflame, and the rest became a history that neither wanted to relive. But he never blamed her. Never in his wildest nightmares, because if they must pinpoint someone to blame, it was him who couldn’t defuse the damn thing fast enough. “Apha.”
“I made you rush, which I shouldn’t have,” her voice was calm. It always had been, ever since they made a reunion back at Greece for the Program, “but hey, like I said. Our work is dangerous.”
“Apha.” Thermite turned to look at her, as the reflection wasn’t clear enough for him to gauge her mood.
The car stopped again, but there wasn’t a traffic light to be seen. It pulled over to the side, a vacant road in a residential area. The street light shone directly above them, rendering their vision simmering orange of an artificial sunset amidst the black night. “Jo, if it makes you feel better, I will let you drive from now on. I understand that you feel uneasy because of what happened, and I know you don’t blame me at all. It’s just how PTSD works, yeah? We all know how it is.”
The grooves of her scar appeared deceptively deep, given how the surrounding was dim and shady. It was the mark of the horrible incident, the inevitable outcome that came with their line of profession, and yet Thermite couldn’t help but to wonder, if only they had more luck on their side. No, if only she was luckier than him, she didn’t have to lose her arm and leg. As their relationship developed to more than just friends, his love and guilt grew. Jordan saw it all; those nights she groaned in phantom pain, the morning when she winced upon connecting the prosthetics to her nerves, and inconveniences, as big as her tripping due to malfunctions, and little as dirt getting stuck in her joints. If he could travel back in time or had to relive the explosion, Jordan would gladly be the driver, or at least jump off the truck with the bomb.
“Jordan,” Apha’s hand laid on his, effectively waking him up from the introspection, “talk to me. Please.”
He couldn’t dare to, for the idea felt like a mockery to her strength. His lover had a soul unlike no other, and it wasn’t in his place to judge what would’ve been better for her. He knew this, he understood what she was capable of, so Jordan kept those thoughts in his heart that ached against all the logic and reasoning. “Hey, now. I didn’t mean to make you think like that.” As he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, Jordan leaned closer to have their lips met. “I’m fine with you driving. We will take turns from now on, okay?”
“Are you sure?” Her stare lingered on him. Those eyes were piercing into his paper-thin façade, so of course it was hard for him to stare back at her. She was asking for truth, not sympathy.
“Yes, I am.” He opted to bring his mouth towards the back of her hand for a light peck, and then brought her other hand to do the same. It didn’t matter what his lips felt; warm or cold, both of them were precious to him and her. “Now let’s get home, yeah?” That was the night he tried to ease off from feeling obliged to drive for her, or be overly anxious altogether. ‘Tried’ was the keyword, because Aruni sensed something was amiss and they had another big talk revolving around this again.
Do they enjoy pillow fights?
Once they tried something like this and didn’t stop until one of them ended up with a nosebleed. Competitive and strong willed, Thermite and Aruni saw this as a chance to suggest a pillow fight championship to Harry, which he accepted. There were many duos that posed a threat to this power couple, but most were knocked out whenever one of them fell from the bridge.
Have they dedicated songs to each other?
From Aruni to Thermite - Alicia Keys - If I Ain’t Got You (I really don’t need much to feel happy, Jo.)
Their couple song - Endless Love - Lionel Ritchie and Diana Ross duet
What happens when the other is getting flirted with?
Both draw a line against those who dare flirt with them, but if we gotta see the reaction, it will probably be something like this. When Thermite sees a guy trying to keep on chatting with Aruni, and when they are in a place where the guy could make a big deal out of getting punched by her, Thermite would scoot over, stand real close to her and wraps his arm around her waist, then says, “I think she gave you a clear answer. Be a gentleman and walk along.” If the guy refuses, then it’s both Thermite and Aruni he has to worry about.
When Aruni sees a woman chatting with Thermite, and especially when that woman tries to take an advantage of Thermite by being physically sensual with him (this is when he has his hands deep in his pockets, eyes looking up in the sky and mouth tightly sealed,) Aruni doesn’t walk. She storms towards them, squeezes right between and leans her back on his chest (so he can wrap his arms around her.) She then beams a smile and asks, “Can you keep your sticky fingers off of him, because he’s got his on me.”