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You blearily woke up with the blankets up to your waist. The sun shone through the window as you stretched your arms, trying to yawn your tiredness away from your body as you looked around for the familiar, long fiery red hair.
Diluc. Your grumpy but oh-so-sweet boyfriend. Your perpetual dawn, brightest night, and the man that wasn’t currently under your sheets and sitting around in your shared room. Your shared king-sized bed felt empty without his presence, and it felt like he carved a hallow through your chest before he left.
You sighed before you got up from the bed, rubbing your eyes as you tried to make your way to the kitchen. You didn’t bother to change your clothes for the day, opting to keep wearing your faded, oversized t-shirt and grey sweatpants.
As you got closer to the kitchen counters, you took in the delicious aroma of freshly cooked breakfast. It sizzled straight from the pan Diluc held as he cooked some eggs.
“He’s got better ,” you thought as you sniffed the air, trying to catch a hint of burnt eggs.
You didn’t want to have another fire emergency incident after Diluc attempted to cook you a plate of gourmet breakfast, and you were relieved when the air was utterly fresh and devoid of any black smoke.
You broke a small smile as you watched Diluc flip the pan, his arms flexing and his muscles bulging under his dress shirt. Diluc looked incredibly grave as he focused on cooking the eggs, and you couldn’t help but laugh because he was also in a pink apron. As your laughter filled the apartment, his concentration broke, and his eyes stuttered before he (thankfully) turned off the stove and walked toward you.
“Good morning,” Diluc greeted. You suddenly felt self-conscious as a pair of vermillion eyes landed on you, appreciative of the view.
“Good morning to you, too,” you replied, your face growing into a severe flame that could combust.
You were about to rush towards your seat at the dining table so Diluc wouldn’t see your red face, but he took your hand in his and led you to your seat.
You feel you’re being treated in a high-end, three-Michelin-star restaurant as Diluc stands tall like a listening waiter, ready to take an order. Additionally, you wanted to fetch a fork for yourself so the table wouldn’t look empty without any plates. But before you could stand, Diluc grabbed and pushed you back in your chair.
“Allow me,” he said as he kissed your fingertips, to your joints and finally, to your knuckles.
You took a sharp breath, surprised, intrigued and absolutely flustered by his antics.
Was today a special day? Did Diluc hit a milestone during work? For some reason, did you hit a particular milestone without knowing? You ponder yesterday’s events and are sure you haven’t achieved anything because you metaphorically had no will to live.
Anyways, you needed clarification as you tried to understand why Diluc gave all his attention to you today.
“Did something happen yesterday?” you questioned as you watched him open the drawer filled with all the cutlery.
“Not at all,” he answered. You could see a hint of a smile form from the corner of his lips.
You scoffed, resting your chin against your palm as you watched Diluc’s every move. “Then what’s with all this fancy treatment?”
“I just feel like doing this for you,” Diluc shamelessly replied, and from those words, you felt your face growing hot for the second time. You shook your head, disbelieving his words.
Finally, Diluc returned to the table with the forks and cooked food. Your stomach started to rumble as you took in how your plate was presented.
You had stripes of bacon and poached eggs that smelt divine and some cut, colourful fruit to the side. Your plate looked like your ideal breakfast, and your heart swelled when you realized that Diluc had taken his time preparing it for you.
“Thank you,” you replied before you dug into your meal. It’s delicious, and you can feel the flavours bursting on your tongue as you scarf your fruit and bite your bacon with cut eggs.
If someone told you that Diluc cooked for you a few years ago, you would’ve made a laughing matter about it. It’s incredible how time sped through, and everything you thought was impossible became possible, like your slow but ever-changing relationship with Diluc.
He was like the dawn in your night skyline, the first shine of sunlight as he crept into your life. You may have made the first move, introducing yourself and befriending him, but he was a presence you never expected to stick around. Sure, you had supportive friends and a couple of ex-lovers, but none of them were like Diluc. What distinguished him from them was that he listened and cared for you. He never pitied you. Instead, he empathized and comforted you in your darkest moments and repelled your brightest fears away.
And if the world was about to end and you had to pick between Diluc and the world, you would’ve chosen Diluc.
The world could burn without you and him anyways.
“I’m doing the dishes,” you said with finality as you urgently put on dish gloves. Diluc pounced on you, intending to remove the dishwashing gloves from your hands.
“Absolutely not,” he argued, his voice laced with steel determination.
You both struggled with the gloves as you tried to be victorious in the argument. Unfortunately for you, there was no clear winner. Diluc had strength and height, but you had speed. So it was an even match.
Diluc peered at you, observing as he relaxed his limbs, making a show of surrender. He sighed. “Go to the bathroom and take a shower instead.”
Oh, hell no.
“Fuck that, you just made the best meal of my life,” you retorted, using Diluc’s distracted form to snatch the gloves out of his hands. God, he had pretty eyelashes. “It’s my turn now. I’m dishing today.”
Diluc squinted his eyes at you, his gaze dark red. “No, you are not.”
You didn’t back down, glaring back. However, your glare was akin to a puppy’s, and you were sure it was ineffective to Diluc. Diluc’s glare was more effective, and he used them for multiple purposes, like in bed.
“Yes, I am.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
You groaned as the argument went nowhere where you wanted it to be.
“Let’s bet on it,” you decided. “Rock, paper, scissors. Winner does the dishes.”
Diluc nodded, agreeing without a problem. You and he curled your hands into fists and began playing Rock, paper, scissors.
Rock and rock. Scissors and scissors. Paper and scissors.
You grumbled as you looked at your open hand in furious resignation. “Oh, come on!”
Diluc chuckled, the older bastard laughing at your misery, as he grabbed the dishwashing gloves to wear them. As you trudged away from the kitchen, you could hear the water running, with the clinks of dishes, pots and pans.
Even though the loss was small, you still felt the burn of it. You were undeniably a sore loser and imagined scenarios where you would defeat Diluc multiple times. Diluc may have won the battle, but you would win the war.
But now, you would go to the bathroom and shower.
A plan.
You needed a plan.
Diluc had made you a breakfast hotter than the fire he created when he first tried cooking, and you needed to repay him. But how? How would you repay him? How would you show your love to him?
Then, you realized, Equivalent Exchange existed.
Huh .
Equivalent Exchange existed, and you would make the best out of it, starting with the most challenging dish in your cookbook.
“I’m home,” Diluc announced as he made his presence known in the apartment. You slightly jolted, a bit petrified at his somewhat early arrival.
However, it didn’t stop you from cooking. Your deft hands worked with the pan and spatula as the raw meat stirred and sizzled on the pan. As you flipped the meat with your spatula, you could feel Diluc’s curious gaze on your back.
“Welcome home,” you replied, busy with the pan.
You didn’t notice Diluc sneaking behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, careful not to intrude on your cooking.
“It smells…good,” he said, sounding almost unsure how to compliment your work in progress. You stifled a laugh, feeling the heat radiating from Diluc’s face as he put his chin on your shoulder.
You couldn’t help but tease him further. “Is that all?”
Diluc refused to speak, watching the pan in a daze instead. You huffed, content with the silence and the focus it gave you. However, his grip suddenly tightened, and his mouth got too close to your collarbone. His movements filled you with a sudden dread (you wanted his lips on your collarbone) that had you on the balls of your feet.
You ignored the red stands of his hair as it tickled your collarbone as you tried to pry Diluc’s grasp on you.
“Diluc,” you started, trying to wiggle your way out of his embrace, but, for some reason, he wasn’t letting go. “Let me go! I have to cut potatoes!”
Dilic’s arms didn’t waver from their grasp, so you regretfully had to push yourself out of it so you could begin cutting the miscellaneous items.
You brought out cutting boards, knives and other items and put them onto the counter before you started cooking dinner, so you had no problem cutting the vegetables.
With slow and almost accurate precision, you peeled the potatoes, set them on the vegetable cutting board, and began to chop them into small pieces. You did the same with the Small Lampgrass, using some parts of the stem and the bulb as a small garnish. You also chopped the cheese into large, blocky squares and set them aside. You wouldn’t use the cheese until the meat finished cooking.
As you stepped away from your work, you realized Diluc watched from a slightly close distance, never moving away from his original spot.
You huffed as you felt your face slightly warm up.
“Sit down,” you ordered, roughly and affectionately at the same time. You grabbed Diluc’s arm, dragged him to the dining table and reached for a seat. “I’ll finish it soon.”
You handed the appropriate cutlery for your dish to Diluc before you went off to busy yourself with the pan once more.
As you turned the stove on, your back felt searing hot from a gaze of wildfire.
The ingredients are finally placed on the dish as you sprinkle the potatoes and Lampgrass bits on top. You’re ready to give it to Diluc, but you’re unsure how he’ll react, and you’d feel damned if he tried to hide his constipation during the dinner.
You slightly huffed as you set down the plate of Pile ‘Em Up on the table, careful not to let anything fall off.
It was, literally, stacked. The meat was tender and steaming, fresh from the pan, and the melting cheese oozed down, coating the potatoes and the Lampgrass garnish.
Diluc looked mesmerized, with the stars and moon in his eyes. You hoped the dish would fit his tastes as he took a piece of the Pile ‘Em Up with his fork and bit into it. You held your breath in anticipation, hoping you didn’t mess up the ingredients or taste.
You could see Diluc’s posture straightening as the stars in his eyes twinkled. You internally sighed when it was obvious that you were in the clear.
“This is amazing!” Diluc exclaimed as he took more bites of your Pile ‘Em Up.
Diluc’s compliments were usually monotone or short, so you felt warm all over, not used to the enthusiastic praise.
You felt content seeing him in a rare, positive, not-grumpy state. You never wanted to forget this moment because this was the happiest Diluc was, and as selfish as it sounded, you never wanted to share it with anyone.
You smiled as you watched him eat delightfully, emptying the plate slowly.