Work Text:
When Diluc returned to your apartment he didn’t expect to hear the aggressive clicking of your laptop’s keys after taking a later shift at the bar. He was hoping you’d be asleep by now but apparently you weren’t.
“Welcome home,” you say distractedly when he walks into the bedroom, still focused on whatever was on your screen. He makes a noise of acknowledgement, feeling a little too drained from his shift to properly talk to you right now, knowing you’d understand.
“Hard day?” you ask, to which he makes a noise of agreement.
His eyes wander around the bedroom as he prepares for bed, frowning a little at the slight mess of wrappers and empty water bottles. He has a feeling that you were neglecting yourself to finish whatever it was you were working on and leaves the bedroom to head towards the kitchen.
It’s perfectly spotless, even the dishes on the drying rack that he knows he put there this morning still in their spots. It’s clear you didn’t eat anything outside light snacks and the thought makes his brows furrow even more. Dinner should have happened a while ago but clearly it didn’t in the absence of his presence.
Diluc pokes his head back into the bedroom, seeing you still hard at work. He clears his throat a little and you look up at him.
“Have you eaten yet?” he asks.
“I think so.”
You root around the bed a little before pulling out a box of some microwave dinner. He makes a face.
“Why are you using our bed as a personal trashcan?’
Before you can respond he walks over with a huff, pulling the sheets away from you and brushing off all the stray crumbs and wrappers. He takes the box out of your hands and puts it on the bedside table as he continues to clean around you, leaving you to continue working in peace. Soon enough he’s armed with enough garbage to fill a big and he leaves with his prize, not unlike any other time he got down to cleaning. You decide to ignore him for now, so close to finishing your work that it doesn’t really bother you too much when you hear him making noise in the kitchen.
Now that the cleaning has been finished, Diluc is staring down the various pots and pans that he pulled out. Somewhere in the back of his mind is the loose idea to make you some sort of meal but he’s drawing a complete blank on what to make. Normally, if he were cooking he’d want to make something memorable, some delicacy he remembered from his childhood or a new experimental recipe he happened to stumble across. He was no cooking genius, but he was adept enough that everything he made would bring a smile to your face.
Eventually, he decides on some sort of pasta dish, pulling up his hair to keep it out of his face and rolling up his sleeves to get to work. It’s a routine procedure and he assumes that it’ll carry out like normal. He’ll make some meatballs, boil some pasta, then put on some sort of sauce he throws together and you’ll have a lovely dinner that’ll keep you energised.
Nothing goes as planned and he can’t help but pinch his brow at the thought he should have been prepared for the possibility.
It starts with a pasta disaster. Diluc pulled out the pasta, some little bowties you bought on sale and thought the box was closed. Unfortunately for him, it was not. As soon as he reached for the box it all spilled over the floor of the kitchen, him staring it down before sighing and cleaning up the mess he inadvertently made. Thankfully for him, he found another package of spaghetti, this time being much more careful when opening it.
He filled a pot with water and in a moment of blankness put the pasta inside then stared at it, wondering why it wasn’t softening. He’ll ignore that it took him five minutes to realise he was just effectively soaking the pasta, having also forgotten to turn on the heat to actually boil water. Then, once the water boiled he put the noodles back in, tempted to put his finger in to make sure the water was actually hot but deciding it probably wasn’t the best idea.
With that out of the way, he decided to begin work on the sauce. Fresh tomatoes, basil, some onion, garlic, just whatever he could find and cook that didn’t look like it was expired. In fact, he was so proud of himself for making what he deemed to be an absolutely delicious sauce that he forgot to monitor the noodles, letting them boil over. The boiling over was easily mitigated by his placement of a wooden spoon over the stove top, also reminding him to add some of the liquid to his sauce.
The meatballs go off without a hitch now that Diluc was on his guard. The absolute focus of which he’s cooking the protein would seem almost comedic were you there to watch him, His eyes are narrowed, fully intent on making this go smoothly. Of course, it would have were it not for the sauce he began cooking them in once they were almost finished, beginning to burn slightly when he neglected to check the strength of the heat. He removed it from the burner soon enough but at this point he was so close to giving up.
The thought of being able to provide you with a nice, home-cooked meal is what kept him going and what made him stop pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath and tries to relax, doing the dishes and preparing a serving each for the both of you. Now standing in the middle of a clean kitchen he exhales roughly, relieved that his bad luck streak seemed to have finally run its course.
Now you’ve come out of the bedroom, drawn out by the smell of his cooking and clap happily at the sight of the two dishes on the dinner table.
“You made us dinner?” you ask softly, sitting down at the chair he pulls out for you.
“I couldn’t let you go to bed without eating a proper meal, especially not when you’ve been working so hard. Clearly you haven’t been eating right all day so of course I had to rectify that,” he scolds, hands on his hips like a stern matron. You’re used to it at this point so you roll your eyes, pulling him down by the collar to press a kiss to his lips.
“Thanks ‘Luc. I really appreciate it,” you thank, his pale skin flushing at the gesture before sitting across from you to eat his own portion.
“However, it sounded like the process didn’t go as smoothly as you’d hoped,” you tease, watching as his body stiffens then softens in defeat.
“I tried my best and that’s all that matters,” he responds with an air of finality that makes you laugh.
“It tastes amazing - I can’t even tell there are shards of glass in the sauce.”
“There’s glass?!” He immediately picks up your plate and inspects it closely, making you struggle to hold back your laughter at his earnest efforts.
“No, I was just messing with you. You did a really good job with making it though sweetheart.”
He relaxes and slumps back into his chair after returning your plate, sighing loudly.
“You have no idea how difficult it was to just make a plate of pasta,” he groans. “I just wanted to make you something to eat but I suppose even that was too much to ask of the universe.”
His dramatics make you smile, knowing that when you first met the man you never would have guessed that he had this sort of side to him. He puts his face in his hands, sighing loudly before taking a bite of the pasta and making a noise of agreement. Diluc liked his own cooking at least.
“I’m glad it turned out well. It’s some sort of reward for the hardships I was forced to endure while making the damn thing.”
The meal goes by much smoother than the cooking of the food and in fairness you do the dishes. Diluc doesn’t feel right letting you do it by yourself so he joins you at the sink to dry as you wash. You can’t help but stare at him a little, exposed forearms and the movement of his fingers working delicately over the plates and utensils. He can feel your staring at him and lets you ogle at him a bit, wiping his hands off with a towel when finished.
In your slight stupor, you don’t notice his hand coming up to cup your face, leaning in and pressing a slow kiss to your lips. It brings you back to reality only to sweep you off your feet again, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you in to kiss you harder in the low light of your kitchen.
“Are you done staring yet?” he asks you huskily, eyes resting gently on your lips when you pull apart. You nod, just a bit shaky from the intensity of his kiss.
“We should get ready for bed now, shouldn’t we?”
Without giving you a chance to respond he leads you to the washroom, the two of you doing your nightly routines next to each other in a comfortable silence. In the back of your mind you know you have a bit more work to do, so close to finishing but it was clear Diluc wasn’t willing to let you overwork yourself tonight.
When he finishes brushing his teeth he steps over to hug you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he waits for you to finish up. His eyes meet yours in the reflective surface and he gives you a soft smile, turning to bury his face into your neck.
“Finish faster. I want to sleep.”
“Stop being so pushy,” you tease, poking his forehead and giggling at the sound he makes.
He only got like this when he was tired and the frustration from earlier most likely didn’t help. You put your hand on his, tapping them gently as you finish up with your free hand. Once you’re finished he pulls you into bed, landing on the mattress and taking you with him. The quick movement makes you yelp a little but his strong arms around your waist keep you steady, landing you on his chest.
Once you two settle down you find yourself enveloped wholly in his warmth and it’d be suffocating if you had your face in his chest but instead you’re staring up at him and he’s looking down at you, running his fingers through your hair.
“You should rest now,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Whatever work you have left to do you can leave it for tomorrow. If there’s anything I can help you with let me know, alright?”
“Alright fine,” you grumble, wrapping your arms around him. “No more work until tomorrow.”
“That’s my darling,” he praises, giving you another kiss before pulling the blanket over your bodies.
His praise warms you up and you hum happily, talking away about your day as he strokes your back affectionately. He fights against sleep a bit, wanting to hear you talk more to get a glimpse of what goes on in that mind of yours, grateful that by some grace of the universe you somehow let him into that beautiful world you inhabit.