Work Text:
You noticed it before you even opened the door. As you slid your key into the front door, a hint of a savory scent wafted through the cracks and to your nose. Eyes fluttering shut, you paused for a moment as your brain tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. You swung the door open and called out to your empty house with a dull enthusiasm.
“I’m home.”
You mindlessly hung your coat up in the closet in the foyer, mind drifting as you wondered when your husband would be coming home. He was usually home an hour after you on the dot, not usually one to run late. But you noticed that his work shoes were already here, placed delicately along the wall, so perhaps he’d gotten home early but gone for a run. That was when you heard a subtle clank coming from the kitchen, and that aroma you’d noticed outside became stronger as you walked further into your home, along with a delicate melody that you didn’t seem to recognize floating through the air.
“Toshi?” you questioned, making your way through the hall to the kitchen before stopping in your tracks. Wakatoshi stood tall next to the stove, hips swaying all too subtly to the sound of the radio he set up on the corner of the counter. He donned the apron that you usually wore when baking, the tie just barely making it around his hips.
“What is all this?” you asked, almost at a whisper, with a grin crawling onto your face.
Wakatoshi turned around, your voice finally pulling him out of his concentration. When he turned around, you tried and failed to stifle your laughter upon the sight of his torso absolutely covered in flour - rendering the much too small apron essentially useless - and his hands slick with cooking oil and some kind of sauce.
“It’s your birthday,” he stated matter-of-factly, as he grabbed a hand towel to wipe off his hands. Before anything else, he placed the towel back on the counter, took a few steps toward you, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, gently resting his hands on either cheek. He greets you this way every time he comes home from work, but somehow it feels different, more special, when you’re the one coming home. Before letting go, you noticed him gently close his eyes and take a soft breath before opening them and resting his forehead against yours. His eyes locked with yours and you felt your cheeks begin to burn just a bit as he softly whispered.
“Happy birthday, my love.”
Before you could speak he kissed you once more, this time on your cheek, just below the corner of your eye, and he pulled away and went back to what he was working on. Your body felt cold as he stepped away but a tinge of heat remained on your cheeks. You knew that your husband loved you but he didn’t often show it in the most forthright manner. He showed it through the way that he would tuck the colorful comforter on your shared bed over your shoulders when he woke up early for a morning run. Through the way that he would help you zip up your dress before you went out to dinner without you needing to ask him. Through the way that he cuts your bagel in half for you when he’s making his own breakfast. It’s all the little things that truly do add up, and never once have you felt that he didn’t love you as much as you love him.
But sometimes, like tonight, you would be caught off guard by his more direct affection. You knew that it was hard for him, but you truly did appreciate his effort, especially when it wasn’t something that you requested of him. However, you’d gotten so swept up in the moment that you forgot to address the elephant in the room.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” You slowly made your way over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek against his shoulder blade, seeking out the warmth that he deprived you of.
“I stayed home today. If my boss asks, I have the flu,” he responded, and the small smirk that grew on his face was audible in his tone. You laughed against the back of his shirt and tightened your embrace before planting a kiss at the base of his neck. Wakatoshi stood noticeably taller as you smiled against his skin and thanked him. You finally took a moment to peer around your tall partner’s torso to glance at what he had been cooking. There were miscellaneous chopped vegetables and herbs strewn about a few different cutting boards, three bowls with different colored sauces in them, and a pan on the stove with salmon fillets sizzling as they slowly cooked. You glanced past the stove and noticed that the warm red glow of the oven light was on, which piqued your interest. He must have noticed where your gaze landed because he tossed you a quick “it’s a secret” before turning to you.
“Why don’t you take a seat while I finish up,” he continued, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you over to the kitchen table which was adorned with what you deemed to be your “nice tablecloth” and the silverware that you only broke out when your parents came to visit. He pulled his hand away only to pull out a chair for you until you took a seat. Gently, he tucked your hair behind your ear before returning to the counter to finish up and plate your dinner. You waited patiently for a few minutes, out of the corner of your eye swearing you caught a slightly slouched Wakatoshi with his hands on the edge of the counter, taking slow breaths with a rosy blush crawling up the tips of his ears.
Just before your stomach began to growl, your partner walked over and placed a plate in front of you, the sight enough to make you drool. He placed his own plate down as well and took a seat, but instead of taking his usual seat across from you, he sat in the normally empty seat to your left. As you both began to eat, without looking over at you he grabbed your hand under the table and wove his fingers between yours, gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. You smiled and squeezed his hand gently, appreciative of the affection but you questioned him nonetheless.
“What’s gotten into you today? I know it’s my birthday but you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with just to make me happy,” you told him softly, turning to him with a gentle smile.
He let out a low sigh, as if he’d been trying to be sneaky with the way he had been acting. “I may not be comfortable with it yet, but you make me want to be comfortable with it. I see the way you look when we watch those cheesy rom coms and I want to be able to make you as happy as those movies do,” he responded quickly, not able to look you in the eye. However, your heart swelled at his confession and you pulled his hand up to you, kissing the back of his hand. Suddenly, you heard a loud ding from behind you.
“What was that?” you asked, your eyes lighting up when you remembered the oven light from earlier.
“Cake,” he responded with a small grin. He rose quickly from the table to pull the dessert from the oven and when he returned, you found yourself not looking at the cake, but looking up at Wakatoshi’s smiling face. And when your eyes met, you saw nothing but love.