Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Joker

I'd like to request your services

 

At twenty three years old, Goro Akechi was a prostitute and, if he'd say so himself, a pretty good one too. It wasn't particularly a life style he enjoyed, but it was the one he was backed into choosing, afterall being an orphan with no legal guardians interested in taking on the bastard child of a poor woman who, also, was a prostitute before her untimely demise and some runaway father who couldn't provide even a scrap of child support didn't bode well for any career of his interest. His life had consisted of being passed around from orphanage to orphanage until he was kicked out and told to live by his own means at the ripe age of fifteen by way of the Japanese foster care system, barely scraping by with minimum wage service jobs until the only choice left was to go into prostitution at eighteen.

It was the same kind of work his mother had done in her life, but he was privileged enough to be in safer conditions around his work, being hired for his services over phone as opposed to waiting around shady red-light districts for a customer who seemed interested. It paid well for a job he was averse to, the money he got from fucking some lonely, closeted man before fucking off himself was enough to pay the rent for the cheap apartment he camped out in. Sometimes he wondered what his mother would think of his living conditions, he missed her so often it was hard to separate what part of his identity was himself and what part was the grief that penetrated all his cracks like the ugliest molten gold.

Jobs had recently been on a bit of a low for him, not receiving many inquiries for a 'good time', that is until he had received a message by someone calling themselves 'Joker'. It was definitely of the more creative fake names he had seen, considering his clientele rarely ever used their real names for the embarrassment that came with hiring a prostitution service, but it was the same on the other end.

At night, the image of Goro Akechi was shed to reveal 'Crow', a gentleman of the night with no history, no ties, the perfect mask for his line of work.

Crow was the homme fatale he had seen in the many superhero shows he adored, deadly and dangerous, yet alluring all the same. Goro was a bastard with a past.

Crow

Of course, what time would you wish for me to arrive?

Goro didn't know how many sex workers formatted their texts like business emails and honestly it didn't matter to him, this was a job just like any other and he'd treat it with as much professionality as he could.

A part of him thought that it would be good practice before he started writing professional emails at his future high-end jobs, the more reasonable part knew getting hired as an orphan prostitute was a fantasy of its own.

Joker

8pm please

 

Joker

Come with an empty stomach if you can

 

Goro quirked a brow at the second message, he had gotten a colourful amount of requests throughout the five years he had been working but this was definitely new. A feeding kink perhaps?

Crow

I'll see to it.

 

Joker

Do you have any allergies?

 

Crow

None at all.

The mysterious client replied with a thumbs up emoji.

After exchanging details on the address, Goro skips dinner to board the train to 'Joker's' house. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd gone without a meal, but he hoped that this client had a good snack waiting for him in exchange for whatever kink he'd participate in that night to make up for it.

Tokyo trains were quieter at night, less crowded and more atmospheric. He definitely preferred not being shoved against tired business men and students on the morning commute, even if the nights provided a cover for crime that he knew to stay on high alert about. Sometimes he wondered if his mother would have felt the same about the midnight trains, dressed up in her sundresses and flat shoes before she told Goro she was off to meet a 'nice man' in the middle of the night alone. He never had to wonder long, even at the age of seven he knew why she wore flat shoes at night and why she always refused to bring him with her.

Goro thought that if the men were truly that nice, they wouldn't make his mom cry so much when she got home at night, thinking he was still asleep.

The train came to a halt at his stop before he had time to think of her any longer. He stopped off at a town by the name of Yongen-jaya, following the map of his phone to an apartment, his feet soon leading him to a door in front of him.

If any of 'Joker's' neighbours were to pass by his door and see Goro approach, they would be none the wiser to him hiring a sex worker. The outfit of black dress pants and a black turtleneck he wore made him blend in with anyone else, Goro liked it that way. He had no interest in others knowing about his way of living- surviving , more specifically- or advertising himself like a piece of meat. 

If there's one thing Akechi wanted to preserve in lieu of his stability, was the control he had over himself, something his mother never had.

Knock. Knock.

He tapped twice on the door, hearing footsteps approaching from the other side and a lock twisting open. The open entrance revealed a man about his age with scruffy, curly, black hair and heavily fogged up glasses making him look very dorky. He wore a forest green apron over a long, white t-shirt with a v-neck cut.

"Oh, you must be Crow?" He asked, looking up at him with obscured eyes. From behind him, Goro could smell something cooking.

"Yes. Joker, I take it then?" Crow replied, keeping a casual tone with his client, one that commanded respect. The other man nodded in return.

"I expected you to arrive a bit later," he muttered coyly, before allowing him inside. "Please take a seat while I prepare the meal," he bowed to Crow, something he wasn't used to, as he took his place at the dining table Joker led him to.

The heavenly smell he had first been presented to at the door had become more potent as he sat in front of the kitchen island where Joker quickly returned to stir a pot of some bubbling, russet-brown liquid that was responsible for his foggy glasses. The strongest scent of the array that Goro's nose could detect was that of heavy beef stock. If he wasn't mistaken, Joker was preparing him a curry.

"I should be done in a minute," Joker reassured, seemingly feeling the need to be apologetic over not having finished his cooking earlier.

"It's fine, take your time," Crow hummed politely, looking around the other man's apartment curiously.

It was definitely the kind of space that he would have liked to live in had he been more fortunate. The open kitchen seemed well stocked with cabinets and a fridge that was covered in a few cute magnets that indicated previous tourist expeditions, including a small cat with a flower garland over its neck exclaiming 'aloha', the Hawaiian tongue for 'hello'. A small TV was set up in front of a nice, plush, red sofa, also small in size, yet still better than anything Goro owned in his flat consisting of his futon and his minimal furniture of a chair and table. In front of the sofa was a wooden coffee table with a vase of white lilies on top.

This stranger's home was full of life, in just the few minutes Goro had shown up he had already started to piece together an assumption of how he lived, as was his habit to do. All his client's circumstances differed wildly, from sleazy apartments to the rare nicer living spaces such as this one. It was hard to believe Joker lived alone in such a nice place, leading Goro to wonder just what fancy job the other man had to afford it.

He was snapped out of his wandering thoughts by a plate of fluffy, white rice and curry being placed in front of him. The sight of it was one that he would've loved to have on his food blog, but he didn't want to explain why he'd be whipping his phone out for a pic to a client. Along with that, the smell alone made him realize how hungry he was, the bottom of his stomach suddenly feeling oh-so very hollow. Putting his hands together, he bowed his head slightly. "Thank you for the food."

"No problem," Joker smiled kindly, undoing his apron and placing it on the back of a chair before removing his foggy glasses to give a quick clean to with the green, fabric material. "I hope you enjoy it."

"So," he started, "is this a feeding kink situation?" Crow inquired, deciding to figure out what his client wanted before he got into it. 

Joker looked at him speechlessly. "What?"

Crow made a confused expression, "You did hire from a prostitute service."

That seemed to have made him snap back into it, shaking his head. "Oh, no no!" He quickly chirped up with a modest blush on his cheeks, "I'm not…this isn't a sex thing."

For the first time Goro found that he was more surprised to learn something wasn't a sex thing as opposed to if it was.

"Ah, I see." Crow did not see.

Joker, clearly seeing the need for explanation, sighed, leaning up against the countertop of his kitchen. "I actually just wanted to cook for someone tonight."

That confused Goro. Cooking was not his strong suit in any way, shape or form, kitchen utensils shuddering in fear whenever he stepped into the kitchen to inevitably burn or blow something up, therefore sticking to instant meals or takeout. He couldn't see why anyone would actively wish to take on that hassle for themselves, let alone pay someone to eat their hard work for them. Despite that he didn't let his own confusion over Joker's odd behaviour show. Crow was a gentleman of the night, he had a part to play. "Is cooking a hobby of yours, Joker?"

Joker chuckled, "My name is Akira Kurusu, you can just call me Akira."

"Kurusu-kun then," Crow suggested, keeping up formalities and keeping himself at a distance.

"Cooking is my favourite thing to do," Akira smiled.

That response didn't satisfy Goro. Usually he'd just leave it be, his clients were little more than a quick cash grab before he'd be off on his merry way, but Kurusu had surprised him already with his disinterest in having sex and that initial change just made Goro that much more curious to find out what kind of person he was to request a prostitute and not even use their services. He pried some more, "Your apartment is very big, do you have any roommates you cook for?"

At that Akira frowned. "My fiancé," his steel-grey eyes turned down, "She used to live here, but she got into a car accident two years ago and passed away. I used to cook for her."

That response definitely surprised Goro, that and how quickly the kindly man became melancholic and downcast. It wasn't in Goro's expertise to know how to handle other people's emotions, but he figured if there was one thing he could do then it was to relate to Akira.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he responded with a standard sense of pity and something foreign in Kurusu's eyes told him that he had heard that same line more times than he could count. "My mother passed away when I was young, losing someone so close to you can be shattering." 

Akira's expression turned gentle, sympathetic, "That's awful."

"It was a while ago, she took her life after being left with nothing by my no good father," he scowled, bitterness and contempt filling inside him. All he could do was hold onto it tight and let it complete him, it was all he had left, after all.

Akira leaned back on the counter, squeezing his eyes shut. "You should eat before it gets cold," he pointed to the food in front of Crow, before taking his own plate off of the counter and setting it on the table to eat, parallel to him.

"Ah, yes," he perked up, before taking his spoon and digging into the curry and rice set before him.

The spoon made contact with his mouth and he felt like something had just become renewed inside him.

Holy shit . It was good. Really good.

The heavy beef stock was complimented well with the garlic, onions and ginger Goro could pick up from his tongue, along with a subtlety of yogurt to even out the variety of spices that popped like an extravagant display of fireworks across the canvas that Akira Kurusu had painted for him with his culinary skills. He hadn't had a home cooked meal for literal years and he swore Akira's food had just revived him.

"This is amazing ," with the sparkly eyes of a child, he looked up at Akira with fascination. Was this man a God?! A cooking God?!

Akira grinned, "Glad you like it. It's an old recipe of mine, someone very important taught me it," he smiled like he was holding onto a secret, a special piece of his past that molded his present.

"They must have been an incredible chef," Crow complimented, singing his praises like a canary.

Akira laughed, "No, just a cranky old man." Leaning his cheek on his palm, he spooned more of his curry into his mouth, savouring each individual spice granul he had mixed in, each one bringing him back seven years to a small cafe not so far from where he currently lived, one he still visited frequently, yet cemented a special place in his past for what it taught him.

"When I was sixteen I worked at a cafe called Leblanc, in this area," he started, joyfully watching Crow eat away at his meal, "The owner took me in because I was on probation, it was a rough start with him but now he's pretty much like a father to me, he taught me how to cook half of the things I know and how to make some pretty good coffee."

"Probation, you say?" Crow hummed with an interest.

Akira smiled, the kind of smile with nothing behind the eyes, a smile in the place of a frown. Goro knew that smile well. "I'm not a criminal, I just got messed up with bad people," he sighed, "There was this drunk man dragging a woman to his car, I tried to get him off of her and the next thing I know I'm in the back of a police car being tried for assault."

Goro's fingers tightened around the end of his spoon, "What a disgusting man."

Akira nodded, "I didn't hit him, but the police would always pick the side of a rich adult over some teenager."

"Those with power go rotten with it," Goro agreed, scraping up the remains of his dinner into his mouth as if to dispel the bitter taste Akira's story left in it.

At an instant Akira rose, "I'll get that for you," he stated, as he stacked both their plates up with the utensils, placing it in the sink, "Can I get you anything to drink, Crow?"

"Water, please," he smiled, enjoying Akira's hospitality that was both so foreign, yet made him feel so familiar, as if the two men had known each other for ages, simply being distant friends catching up through the careless rush of life. Conversing or getting friendly with his clients was not something Goro did, but something about Akira drew him in; he wanted to know more about him.

Passing him a fresh cup of tap water, Akira smiled before running the sink to wash away the curry stains, scrubbing at the porcelain plates and stainless steel spoons. "Crow, what's your real name?" Akira hummed, not looking at him directly, but Crow didn't mind, enjoying how content and peaceful he looked in such a domestic scene. Something about the situation with this stranger felt too intimate, too domestic and personal, as if he was peeping through a keyhole.

It was the type of situation he could imagine between a husband and a wife, two people who knew infinitely about each other, or perhaps nothing at all, regardless, tied by a happy scene of what the perfect, model citizens looked like. But Akechi supposed any man who hired a prostitute, much less a male one, was anything but the expected model citizen. He didn't mind, he wasn't one either.

"I'm afraid that's not something I give out to clients," he smoothly replied, casting a wine side eye to him before swirling the water in his cup around, taking another sip.

"Was worth a try," Akira grinned, shaking his head.

The sound of running water provided a peaceful white noise, Goro leaning back on his wooden chair and drinking in the warm atmosphere of his client's house. It all reminded him faintly of being seven years old again, eating his mother's food, enjoying the taste, albeit it was cheap and instant. There were rare times she made him pancakes for breakfast when she could, they were his favourite, less because of the taste and more because of the memories that made them so sweet, but not too much, not so much that he'd grow sick of it. Goro never was one for sweet foods anyways.

In the corner of his eye, he spotted a chess set folded up and placed inside the lower shelf of the coffee table in the center of the room. "You play chess, Kurusu-kun?"

"Not particularly," he replied, turning the faucet shut by its handles and wiping off his hands on his apron, "A friend gave it as a gift a while back, never really had time to play it or learn how."

Goro's interest peaked at that. "I would be happy to teach, if you're willing."

"You know how to play chess, Crow-san?" He tilted his head, wiping down a plate with a soft looking, pink towel.

"I do," he smirked, "Very well too, if I say so myself."

The two had quickly found themselves from the dining table to the coffee table, Akira pulling over a chair so that the two sat parallel to each other to properly play. From where Goro sat, he could now notice the many plants Akira owned: the white lillies that sat in a vase of the same colour on the table they played on, small shrubs that decorated the windowsill and an indoor tree that sat in a large, white, ceramic pot, preening and clearly taken care of well. As well as that was a calendar hung up on the wall next to the TV, the date of March 10th circled in red, roughly two weeks away from the current date of February 26th.

Their game was definitely one of the more fun chess rounds Goro had played, Akira being a quick and willing learner despite his amateur strategy. With a sharp edged smile, Goro announced, "Checkmate," to the face of a defeated Kurusu.

"You were right, you are pretty good at this," he congratulated.

"I've had practice," he commented back, thinking of all the fellow foster children he defeated easily in chess rounds in the homes he was kept in, trying to find the barest sense of enjoyment in the absolute suffering he endured day in and day out.

"Maybe I could learn a thing or two from you," the other man giggled sweetly, before taking a look out the window illuminated with the gentle lights of outside apartments through the blanketing darkness. "It's gotten late, I didn't notice how much time had passed," he muttered.

"Are…you sure you don't want to have sex?" Crow took another shot at addressing Akira's adversity to his service.

Akira smiled back at him sweetly, "You're a lovely person, Crow, but I can't."

"Alright then." Goro couldn't exactly blame him, losing his partner only a year ago must've taken a toil on him. He'd never had a partner before, so he didn't exactly know what it was like to lose one either, but he knew it wasn't such a simple thing to take on.

"And, you can just call me Akechi," he mumbled, feeling suddenly softer with the other man. "Goro Akechi."

"Akechi-kun," he tasted the way the name sat on his tongue, "It's a nice name."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," he scoffed and Akira giggled once more. Goro couldn't deny that it was a sound he could get used to.

"Well, if you don't want me to do anything else, I'll be going now," lifting himself up from his chair, he decided to pass a smile back to Akira as he turned for the door.

"Thank you for fulfilling my…weird request," pushing a strand of black hair back behind his ear, Akira returned the expression shyly.

"I've seen weirder."

"This was a… nice experience. If you don't mind, can we do this again?" He looked up at Akechi expectantly.

"A free meal and some nice company sounds wonderful, Kurusu-kun," he nodded, "I'd love to."

Akechi had very few contacts, no allies in his life and very little company, and he was strict on never giving out his real name nor his number to his clients. The first rule he had broken in a moment of vulnerability, but something about Akira made the rigid walls he put up throughout his life crumble at the unprotected and weakened ends.

He had left his latest job with a meal in his stomach and a lonely widow's number.

Get!

「Joker's Kitchen: Recipe (1) ×1」

~Curry a la Leblanc~ 

(A la Akira Kurusu!)

Ingredients:

• 1 tbsp vegetable oil

• 2 onions, diced

• 1 carrot, grated

• 1/2 apple, grated

• 2 cloves of garlic, minced

• 2cm piece of ginger, grated

• 500g cubed stewing beef

• 4 tbsp plain flour

• 2 tsp ground cumin

• 2 tsp ground coriander

• 2 tsp ground turmeric

• 1 tsp ground cardamom

• 1 tsp ground cinnamon

• 1/2 tsp hot chili powder

• 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg

• 1/4 tsp ground clove

• 1/4 tsp black pepper

• 200ml red wine

• 600ml beef stock

• 1 bay leaf

• 10g (≈1 tbsp) chocolate

• 1 tsp instant coffee

• 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce

• 75g (≈1/4 cup) plain yogurt

• 1 tbsp honey

• 10g (≈3/4 tbsp) butter

Method:

1. Prep work (important!):

• Peel + dice onions, grate the carrot, apple and ginger

• Peel + mince the garlic cloves

• Peel + grate ginger 

• Remove fat + cut raw beef

2. Onions :) :

• Heat the vegetable oil in a pan

• Cook the onions in the pan until softened (≈10 minutes, cook over low heat!)

• Fry onions on medium heat until golden

• Mix + combine: garlic, carrot, ginger and apple

• Cook for ≈2 minutes

3. Time to get beefy:

• Cook beef cubes over medium heat until browned (make sure they're tender and not burnt!)

• Set aside

4. Spice night:

• In a clean pan, add flour and heat until golden

• Mix + combine: ground cumin, ground coriander, ground turmeric, ground cardamom, ground cinnamon, hot chili powder, ground nutmeg, ground clove and black pepper

• Cook over medium heat for 2 minutes

• Turn off heat

5. Combination fusion time:

• Heat a clean wide pan over medium heat

• Add + stir: spice mix, onion mix and beef

• Add + stir: red wine, beef stock and bay leaf

• Bring to a light boil

• Cover with lid and simmer for 90 minutes - 2 hours

• (*Add water if needed!)

6. Go all out!

• Add: instant coffee, chocolate, plain yogurt, honey and Worcestershire sauce

• Stir and simmer uncovered for 15 minutes

7. Enjoy!! (And thank Sojiro)

Chapter Text

In five days time, March 10th on a Friday this year, was the second anniversary of Kasumi Yoshizawa's death.

Perhaps it was too hasty to call Akechi to hang with him just five nights before he'd be faced with the reality that his fiancé had passed away just two years ago, but he didn't know what else to do. Akira didn't want to think for himself, he just wanted to cook, like he did for Kasumi, he just wanted to think about someone else, like he always did, he just wanted to put himself to the side, like he was so good at doing.

Cooking was Akira's safe zone, it was hard to think about the loneliness that gnawed at him from the inside out when he was chopping up green onions for a filling and mixing up eggs and flour and water to make a nice batter.

He knew what everyone liked: Ryuji 'ramen freak' Sakamoto and his insatiable thirst for the wheat noodles Japan was famous for, Ann and her sweet crepes and cakes, Yusuke and his passion for authentic Japanese, so on and so forth. Yet despite having the ability to craft whatever dish he so wished with his hands, Akira never had a favourite dish. He probably used to have one, when he was younger he adored sweets like any child did and in his teenage years all he ever ate was curry and rice, but after Kasumi, after the empty crater she left in his life, he never found himself caring for what he made. Nowadays he ate more because it was a necessity, rather than to enjoy the flavours he combined together. The cooking part was more fun than the eating for him.

Tonight, he tried his hand at making takoyaki again as an appetizer, finally having the chance to bust out the old takoyaki maker he hadn't used since Kasumi died. It was her favourite.  

Knock. Knock.

Just as he untied his favourite green apron, the one he had been gifted when working in cafe Leblanc under the closest man he could call a father figure, Sojiro Sakura, he heard two precise knocks on his door, indicating his date for tonight had arrived.

Before Akechi-kun, Akira had never used prostitution services. It's not that he was ashamed of his sexuality, quite the opposite with how promiscuous he had been before settling down with Kasumi, but it just wasn't something he did, so texting Akechi's number for the first time was a bit daunting, even for him. 

Swinging open the door, he was met with the face of the brunette man, hair tied back in a small ponytail and his attire changed into a cream toned coat and a green scarf. Akira wondered if the change of outfit was because he no longer needed to look alluring for his client, not that he wasn't because Akira couldn't deny that something about the cold yet so open man intrigued him. 

Afterall, talking about your dead mom is one way to start a first 'date'.

"Kurusu-kun," Akechi nodded, insistent on calling Akira his last name despite the other man not caring for formalities around himself, but seemingly having eased off if only a slight bit.

"Akechi-kun," he smiled back, moving to allow him inside, "How have you been?" He asked, trying his hand at a bit of small talk, wondering if he'd be willing to share his mundane anecdotes with him, or if that was only for the third date.

His red eyes turned to him with a hint of surprise for a moment, as he was in the process of neatly hanging up his forest green, plaid scarf and coat on Akira's coat rack. "Good, mediocrely good," he replied, "I will admit, I've been looking forward to this as the highlight of my week, so I hope you follow through," he smirked.

Akira grinned, before passing him a wink, as he walked over to his kitchen island only about a metre away by way of his open floor plan. "I most certainly will," he teased, looking down at Akechi with a cat-like expression, as the other man kindly removed his shoes by the rack. Taking a seat on Akira's table, he smiled up at him, as the other man took dramatic enthusiasm in presenting the plate of six takoyaki balls to him like a chef, placing it in the middle of the table between them before sitting down.

" Voilà ," he grinned, "I haven't been able to make takoyaki in ages, I hope you enjoy." Leaning his cheek on his palm, he watched as Akechi looked over the plate with awe, hoping his casual demeanor hid the fact that he sat expectantly waiting for him to try it out and pass his judgment.

"Thank you, Kurusu-kun, it looks amazing," he clapped his hands together respectively, before picking up one of the wooden picks provided on the plate and jabbing it into the soft and crispy outer layer to pick it up by.

"You really don't need to use honorifics with me…" Akira chuckled awkwardly.

"I see that and I'll continue to do so," he replied swiftly, crunching into the savory dough ball, licking across the sauce served on top of it that was distinctly- oh no .

Swallowing it down with pleasure, only to be met with a quick pain, Goro coughed dryly, sudden hacks of cough cough coughs expelling from his lungs as his face burnt up red.

Akira's steel grey eyes widened with shock, "Are you okay?" He hesitantly asked, thinking over all the possibilities that he had looked over a text from Akechi stating that he had an allergy to- oh who knows?! Octopus, green onion, flour ?! Had he become careless and accidentally served his guest poison on a plate?

"Yes, yes, I'm perfectly ," he wheezed, fighting a desperate battle between maintaining himself and dispelling the dry air out of his scratchy throat, " fine . I just… love spicy food." He laughed, or gave at least half of one as he folded over the table and hacked up a lung.

Hurriedly, Akira rushed to pour him a glass of water that Akechi snatched up with a desperate vigor unlike himself, downing it like a man quenched for weeks. 

"Let's lay off the takoyaki," Akira chuckled awkwardly, "Sorry…"

"No, it's nothing to worry about, Kurusu," he panted, apparently still needing time to recover from the vicious attack on his taste buds.

"Well, let's just get onto the main course then," he sighed, walking over to the large pot of miso ramen he had made prior, "It's nothing too experimental, just some miso, so I hope you like it."

"I'm not truly in the place to judge, anything is better than frozen, microwaved meals," Akechi smiled gratefully. They were quick and cheap and his best option for when his stomach forced him to feed himself to survive, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy them. To Goro, the need to eat was an inconvenient means to survival, but food itself, the texture, the taste, the culture, was something he took pleasure in indulging in when he had the chance to visit a new cafe in the local area and of course put it on his blog. From the little he knew about Akira Kurusu and the way he cooked, it seemed the same could be said about him.

Kurusu-kun frowned at that statement, yet kept any judgements or advice to himself, placing a steaming bowl of miso ramen in front of him before seating himself with his own. "Do you not cook, Akechi?"

"Unless you count using the microwave and burning half my meals, no, not often," he sighed, before clasping his hands, "Thank you for this meal," he interrupted himself, before continuing, "My mother herself was inexperienced, so I never learnt from her, but truly it seems like I'm cursed to ruin whatever I touch." The topic seemed to have drifted away from food, so he dragged it back in place as he gently slurped up the ramen into his mouth, the broth's flavour clinging to them lovingly, like a mother's soul. "You've outdone yourself again."

Akira blushed- he blushed - Akechi knew he was quite good at flattering, but this was the first time he had seen Akira blush in front of him and not because he had confused him for having an unusual kink. Something about the way he rubbed the back of his neck as an awkward fidget and the way the pinkness clung to his cheeks made Akechi want to see this meek expression on the other man's face a lot more often. "It's nothing, really, I just threw together whatever I had in the fridge," he chuckled, modestly.

"Is that not what cooking is?" Goro teased.

"Well, if you ignore the simmering, seasoning, boiling and pretty much the rest of the process, yes."

Goro rolled his eyes, "Alright, well I understand I'm not the expert here."

As they ate in comfortable content, Akira nipped the leftover takoyaki balls and inwardly Goro felt a bit bad that he couldn't eat them and even more so embarrassed at the reaction he had. Damn his weak taste buds!

"I never would have pegged you for the type who couldn't handle his spice," as if having read his mind with those sharp, piercing eyes hidden behind dorky, steamed up glasses, Akira smiled as he popped another into his mouth.

Akechi huffed, "I just…wasn't expecting it."

"Don't worry, I'll take note of that for next time," he chuckled, and the very idea of Akira wanting him around enough for there to be a next time to look forward to stung his heart with a warm, tightening feeling. "Kasumi always loved these," he smiled, a somber hue overcasting his eyes.

"Kasumi? That was your fiancé's name, right?" Goro inquired and the other man nodded with the final takoyaki ball being crunched down in his mouth. "What was she like?" He attentively looked to him, all while taking careful sips of the savoury broth. Goro realized quickly that Akira Kurusu wasn't one to share without an incentive to do so, as well as that he realized how much he had overshared to the other man, spilling secrets he'd never dare tell another soul over dinner, but he didn't want it to be that way. He wanted to know more about what Akira was hiding behind the windows of those gunmetal eyes.

Wistfully, Akira sighed, removing his glasses that had been reduced to foggy lenses from his miso. "She was…great, I don't think I'd be able to do her justice through description alone," copying Goro, he lifted his own bowl to his lips before placing it down with a clink, "She was so strong, so brave and confidant, did I tell you she was a gymnast?" Perking up, his shimmering eyes met Goro's own scarlet ones. Goro Akechi never considered himself a religious man, but those eyes could've brought him to his knees. 

"No, you didn't, but now that you mention it, I do recall hearing of a woman named Kasumi Yoshizawa on the news a few years back," he reminisced, "Was she perhaps the same?" Truth be told, Goro changed the channel when the face of the young gymnast who was heading to compete on a national scale popped up, but he would be six feet in the grave before he ever told Akira that.

Nodding, he continued, "I was always into cooking even before I met her, but cooking for her really gave me a passion for it," a giggle sprung from his lips, "You can't believe how much athletes eat, it was like preparing lunch for a whole family of four every day," his eyes dampened, cheeks hazed with rose, "I miss her."

Goro froze up, unknowing of what to do. He was never good at comforting people, he could barely even do so for his own mother when she wept and insisted there was nothing wrong. He opted to not draw attention to the light tears Kurusu pulled back, "She sounded like a wonderful woman."

"She was ," he responded with raw emotion, rubbing his eyes with his white sleeve, before deciding to distract himself. "Let me take that," he stood up, already bending to take the now empty ramen bowl from Akechi.

"No, no, i've got it," batting his hand away, he stacked up their two bowls, the takoyaki plate and their chopsticks, heading over to the sink before turning on the faucet and grabbing a sponge.

"Akechi-kun!" Akira yelped, scuttling over to him, "Please, you're my guest, let me do it."

"Give yourself a break, Akira," he sighed, deciding this was the best he could do to ease off the other man's weight, "Besides, you did pay me for this night, it's only fair I make myself useful to you in some way." 

Akira blushed again and Akechi silently took it as a mental win. "You don't have to."

"But I will," swiftly, he responded, unwilling to hear any rebuttal.

Picking his battles, Akira decided to give up.

Get!

「Joker's Kitchen: Recipe (2) ×1」

~Spicy Takoyaki~

Ingredients: (Per 1 serving)

• 180g Okonomiyaki Takoyaki Flour

• 2 tbsp vegetable oil

• 2 eggs

• 160g octopus

• 30g green onion

• 20g Otafuku Premium Tenkasu

• 20g red pickled ginger

• Otafuku Spicy Okonomi Sauce

Method:

1. What's the batter, baby:

• Add + mix into a bowl: water, flour and eggs

2. And then everything else:

• Heat your takoyaki maker (that everyone totally has) and add oil to each hole

• Fill them up halfway with the batter

• Add: octopus, green onion, Otafuku Premium Tenkasu and red pickled ginger

• Add the rest of the batter to the holes 

• Bake for 2 minutes

• Poke the outside of the balls with a skewer and flip over

• Rotate for about 4 minutes until golden brown

3. Spice it up!

• Serve with Spicy Okonomi Sauce and enjoy! (Next time, leave this step out for Akechi…)

It wasn't long until the dishes were cleaned and put away in Akira's neat cabinets with far more plates and utensils than the singular fork, spoon, chopsticks and scattered dishes Goro relied on to feed himself his microwaved meals and cup noodles. 

"Thanks for the help," Akira smiled kindly.

"It's the least I could do considering how you're always cooking me these delicious meals," Akechi responded aptly, truly thankful for Kurusu-kun's cooking skills. "I suppose I should be leaving now," he peered at the clock, frowning slightly at the hands that pointed to his inevitability, "Unless, there's anything more you would like to request?"

Akira's cheeks tinged pink once more- goodness, he was blushing a lot tonight- and he fiddled with the front of his curly, black hair, a nervous habit of his. "There is. Something I'd like to request, that is," he asked, avoiding eye contact, losing his confidant disposition.

Goro's red eyes gazed at him intently, tilting his head as incentive for him to continue. 

Had it finally come to it? After the second 'date', if you could call it that, had Kurusu decided to indulge in his desires? Or was that Goro's own selfishness speaking? Wishing to lay with a widowed man even after learning of his deceased beloved? Because truthfully, Goro wouldn't mind if Kurusu wanted him in that way, but really, Goro just wanted Kurusu in that way.

"I want to…sleep with you."

"Of course," Akechi leaned back on Kurusu's cabinet, "That is my job, afterall."

"No, not like that," Akira shook his head and Akechi couldn't help, but raise a brow. "I just, it's been a while since I've fallen asleep with someone," he reminisced, rolling over the right words. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'd like to cuddle you. If that's alright."

Now it was Goro's turn to blush. How long had it been since he last had someone's arms around him or had his arms around someone? More than a decade. 

It wasn't the request he was expecting, but something about it felt infinitely more personal and invasive than simply having sex with Akira.

He stood dumbly for a bit, blinking and for once unsure of what to say next.

"Although, I guess it's getting late, you should probably go back ho-"

"No no," Goro interrupted, "I wouldn't mind," I'd actually like that quite much , he left unsaid. "I suppose this means I'll be staying for the night?" 

Akira lit up like, perking up to meet Goro's eyes. Goro wished he could take a picture of that expression and frame it. "Oh, I guess it does," he chuckled to fill in the emptiness, "Let me go get you some clothes to change into."

"We're about the same size so I'm sure you can find a good fit," Akechi grinned, as Akira scampered off to fetch him some clothes for the night.

Akira didn't only find him some clothes, but also a spare toothbrush (thank God for that because Akechi had no interest in sleeping without proper dental hygiene) and some pink guest slippers that were obnoxiously cozy and soft. After brushing his teeth and lightly washing his face (mourning the fact that he couldn't perform his full skincare routine for his skin that pimpled like a teenager the moment he avoided doing so), he entered Akira's bedroom.

The first thing he noticed was the man sitting in bed without his glasses and all of Goro's suspicions were confirmed. Akira Kurusu's eyes were drop dead gorgeous. It was almost cliché, like a scene in one of those 2000's American movies Akechi scoffed at where the protagonist would gain instant beauty just from removing their glasses. 

The second thing he noticed was the ☆ Phoenix Rangers Feathermen R ☆ poster on the wall.

Could a man be any more fuckable?

Following the gaze of Goro's red eyes, Akira caught his look of surprise at the image of the popular children's show on his wall. "My sister forced me to put that up," he chuckled, "She's crazy about the show."

Goro huffed, "Well, she has very good taste, then."

"You've seen it?" He asked, crossing one leg over the other in the space where he sat atop the sheets.

"It has been one of the most popular children's shows for the era, so yes," he pouted off to the side, somewhat coy about his own interest in the series.

"I started watching it in my highschool days because my sister, Futaba, kept nagging me to do so," he laughed warmly, looking up at Goro with the raw, unfiltered gaze of his sharp eyes. "Sit down," he invited, to which Goro did not refuse. 

He kept a reasonable distance, close enough to be friendly and far away enough not to make Akira uncomfortable. Of course, soon that careful distance between them would be broken, but Goro wouldn't be the one to initiate it. He'd already fallen for a grieving man, he couldn't intrude on him more than he already had. The mattress was comfortable, cozy, as was everything else in the Kurusu household along with Akira Kurusu himself.

For a few seconds or so, the two sat there in silence, soaking in the other's presence. It was too much, too intimate and domestic. Goro opted to split the tension, "So, what do you think of the show?"

The black haired man gave a toothy grin, "The plot's good enough, but really I'm watching for Black Condor."

"He had an excellent arc, even if he was mistreated with his flat death in the first edition," Goro hummed, holding off how much he could ramble about Feathermen, "I suppose you have acceptable taste, even if Red Hawk is better as a character."

"Acceptable?" Akira pouted, "You wound me," he leaned in, feigning hurt.

"Am I meant to feel bad about that, Akira ?" Not allowing Akira to get the better of him, he closed in too, close enough to see the way Akira's tanned skin pinkened- goodness he looked delicious .

For once, Akira had no witty comments or smart remarks, left completely speechless and at Akechi's mercy. "Uhh," awkwardly, he trailed off. 

"Nothing clever to say, Akira ?" Goro growled, realizing he had found the other man's weakness and could abuse it to his amusement.

"What happened to only calling me by my last name?" Like prey cornered, he smirked in retaliation, but it was uneasy, flustered and out of element.

"I thought you didn't like me doing that," Akechi responded easily, noticing how the other man pulled back a little. Goro turned in front of him, slamming an arm up to the bed's headboard. 

Looking up at him with a reddened face, Akira laughed, "We were just meant to cuddle."

The man above him paused, quickly drawing back. "My apologies," he replied swiftly, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable in any way." Biting the inner flesh of his cheek, he turned away. 

Why couldn't he control himself with Kurusu? He was a grieving man, Akechi hammered into his head. This game wasn't something he could take part in.

"It's fine, I didn't mind," Akira reassured, invitingly spreading his arms open, "Can we cuddle now?" 

And damn did he look alluring. Akechi was inwardly beating himself up for his infatuation with a man he had only known for a week, clinging on like a schoolgirl with a crush, but it was so hard to say no.

He found his spot in Akira's arms, pressed up to his chest and wrapped up by him like a lover engulfing him. His warmth, his scent like coffee, surrounded him completely and it almost made Goro not notice the hesitant, lithe fingers carding through his strands of hair. Exchanging a quick glance with Akira, as if checking if everything was okay, he nuzzled up to his centre where his heart beat was concentrated to a fast, rhythmic pace. Goro knew his heart was beating just the same. How long had it been since he'd been held like this?

"It's been a while since I've done this with anyone," murmuring into Goro's hair, Akira smiled meekly, reaching to turn off his bedside lamp leaving the room in darkness. Now nothing could be seen of the pair's intimate scene, yet the complete absence of that sense only served to put more focus onto the drumming sound of a heartbeat against Goro's ear and the two's paced breaths. It was too much, too much, too much .

Goro couldn't handle it and he couldn't get enough. He'd drink Akira Kurusu down like a fine wine if he could.

"It's the same here," Goro added with a whisper, leaving out the part where he mentioned how he'd completely forgotten what another human's touch could feel like in his years of isolation.

"I'm glad you're here," breathing against the crown of Goro's head, he held him close like an oath. "I needed this."

"Your dedication to your fiancé is admirable. Never taking a lover after her," unsure of what to say, he spilled out what was on his mind in his drifting state.

Akira hummed against him, "Thanks," he responded blankly. A pause of silence passed between them before he could speak up again, "The anniversary of her death is coming up this Friday."

Goro's eyes widened in the darkness. "I'm…I'm so sorry," he settled on saying. "I shouldn't have brought her up."

"No it's fine," Akira reassured, something Goro quickly noticed that he had been doing a lot of. "I don't want her memory to be an ugly one."

Akira bit down on his tongue. There was so much inside of him that he pressed down like coffee beans in a grinder. He didn't want to think, it'd be so much easier if Akechi wasn't so understanding, hadn't gone through the same experiences and just took what Akira gave him and left. Part of him believed it would've been easier to ignore the ghost looming over him if Akechi just fucked him and fled. Akechi was too much like him and it was killing him slowly.

"I understand, I was the same when my mother died," Goro pressed up against him closer, "Let's keep their memories pure."

And Akechi knew that in order for Akira to do so, he couldn't be involved anymore. 

In the night he slept entangled in him and in the morning he was long gone, leaving not a trace behind, but the borrowed pajamas on Akira's bedside table and the slippers on the shoe rack.

Get!

「Joker's Kitchen: Recipe (3) ×1」

~Miso Ramen~

Ingredients: (Serves 4)

• 4 eggs

• 1 cup bean sprouts

• 1 cup fresh bean sprouts

• 280g dried ramen noodles 1/2 cup sliced bamboo shoots canned

• 1/2 cup corn kernels fresh, frozen or canned

• 1/3 cup spinach leaves fresh or frozen

• 8 cups vegetable broth

• 2 tsp instant dashi granules

• 1 tbsp soy sauce or to taste

• 4 tbsp miso paste

• 1 green onion

Method:

1. Egg-cellent:

• Place whole eggs in a pot of water 

• Turn the heat up to high, turning it off when it reaches the boiling point 

• Let eggs rest in hot water for 10 minutes

• Remove eggs and peel under cold running water

• Slice eggs in half

2. I couldn't find a good vegetable pun :( :

• Let spinach sit in the pot of hot water for 1 minute 

• Remove spinach and rinse with cool water

• Squeeze to remove water 

• Let bean sprouts sit in the pot of hot water for 1 minute and then remove

3. My favourite men are ramen:

• Cook ramen noodles in pot of hot water according to instructions (≈3 minutes)

• Drain and rinse under cold water 

• Place all previous ingredients and noodles into serving bowls 

4. You make miso happy <3 :

• Boil stock, instant dashi and soy sauce over high heat

• Turn off heat and stir in the miso paste

• Add the soup to each bowl and add green onions

Chapter Text

Twisting the key into the lock of his door, he pushed it open and made his way inside, kicking off his shoes and letting them lay on the ground on no rack. His coat was hung up on the empty hooks on a board nailed to the wall; it came with the apartment. Walking through the quiet hallway, he made his way to the couch in his void living room and collapsed onto it.

This was home. No, Goro hadn't had a home since his mother left and took home with her. Now he had a shell to curl up and die in.

With nothing to do, he checked his phone: he had some requests from clients for his services that he'd let sit over the past few weeks he spent with Akira. Grunting, he ignored them. Goro did these jobs because he needed money to survive, but ever since he met Akira, he just couldn't be asked. The idea of spending the night with anyone else quickly became distasteful and he hated it. 

He hated how he molded such a prominent dent for Akira to occupy his life and selfishly took up space in the other man's own as an extension of it. Which was why he decided to leave. He couldn't be a part of Akira Kurusu's happy life, dirtying his home full of the memories of his wife and him. 

Akechi knew better than anyone what it was like to lose a loved one, which was why he decided he couldn't disrespect her legacy with his own desires. Kasumi Yoshizawa made a palace in Kurusu's heart that Goro would not dare sully. He'd ruined enough already.

When he left, he'd also realized that Kurusu had no password on his phone, something utterly insane to Goro, so he took his chance to erase any other presence of himself, erasing his number from his contacts. With this, he could consider himself officially dead from his life.

He knew that by doing this he'd soon have to start picking up jobs again, but for the time being Akira had given him enough money to support himself for the next few weeks, along with offering for him to take home some of the leftover miso soup, which Goro would be an idiot to reject, taking the round, plastic container Akira left in the fridge for him and placing it in a plastic bag when he left in the morning.

The bag was now sitting on the floor as he laid down to rest for a minute. He looked at it intently, absently reading over the repeated ' Thank you! Thank you! Thank you !' design on the front. Finally deciding to get off of his ass, he took the container out of the bag and placed it in his fridge, barren aside from the spare cans of beer and a bottle of instant pancake mix he had bought on a whim for breakfast.

His stomach growled just at looking at it. At the incentive he snatched it up and pulled out the singular frying pan he had only ever used for frying up store bought burgers, which more times than not ended up charred. Turning on the stove, he squirted on the liquid and waited for it to start to bubble, fishing out a fork to flip it with when the time came.

Albeit childish, pancakes were a favourite of Goro's, a reminder of the days when his mother was in the state to cook something, as opposed to serving instant meals. He'd never fault her for it, it was the cheapest option and living in a house with no support from Goro's father and struggling to keep the lights on was a trial by itself. However, the food he was preparing was simply a bastardized imitation of her love, but he'd take what he could get.

He flipped the pancake onto the otherside 

Morning rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains of Goro's room. Well, it wasn't his room, it was his mama's room and the only bedroom they had in their small home that they shared together. Goro didn't mind how small the room was, because it meant he and his mama could sleep together and he could protect her from all the evils that lurked in the night, as was his duty to do as an ally of justice. 

But recently she hadn't been sleeping with him and instead took to sleeping on the couch, so he could have the bed to himself. Goro didn't like it, the bed was too big and too cold without her, but whenever he tried to tell her to come back she smiled and insisted he had to get used to sleeping by himself since he was a big boy now. He didn't understand, he knew he was a big boy, but how could he protect her if she slept all alone?

Rubbing his eyes, he shuffled out of the too-big mattress and set up the sheets around it so his mama didn't have to. Finally readjusting to all his senses through the sleepy haze, his nose caught the scent of a sweet scent. Pancakes! 

A smile stretching across his cheeks, he hurried to the kitchen, his slippers slapping against the floor. He was met with the sight of his mama with her long, chestnut-brown hair tied up, a pink apron strewn around her torso as she flipped a pancake with a spatula onto the otherside. Noticing he had entered the room, she grinned sweetly, moving towards him to sweep away his messy bangs and press a kiss to his forehead.

"Good morning, Goro," she hummed against him.

"Morning!" Like a little sun, he replied with delight, "Are those pancakes? Can I have some?" 

She giggled, both at his sweetness and at the implication that she'd ever cook anything and not give him at least half. "Yes, of course you can," carding her thin fingers through his hair she drunk in the way his red eyes, a reflection of her own, lit up. "But first you need to brush your teeth."

"Okay!" He replied with no fuss, hurrying away to do as he was told.

Aiko, flipping over the pancake she had left on the pan, sighed with fondness at her son, yer couldn't help the guilt that wracked her at how excited he became over a properly cooked breakfast, as the idea was such a rarity to him. She knew she wasn't cut out to be a mother, she wasn't what he needed.

Not long after Goro came bounding over into the kitchen, eyes sparkling wide at the sight of a stack of pancakes coated in butter and even syrup for him!

"Thank you!" Hugging his mama, he happily received the plate and took a seat at the low chabudai table, kneeling on the ground and already digging into his pancakes with his knife and fork. "Aren't you going to eat?" He quizzically looked up at his mother.

"Oh no, i've already had breakfast," she reassured with a giggle and he frowned, wanting to eat alongside her. 

"Oh okay," he murmured, chewing into the soft texture of the pancakes, lips upturning when he felt his mother's hands stroking his hair once more. A comforting touch.

Get!

「Aiko Akechi's recipes (1) ×1」

《Simple pancakes》

Ingredients:

• 135g plain flour

• 1 tsp baking powder

• 1/2 tsp salt

• 2 tbsp caster sugar

• 130ml milk

• 1 large egg

• 2 tbsp melted butter (+ extra for cooking)

Method:

1. Batter:

• Sift into a bowl: flour, baking powder, salt and caster sugar 

• Whisk in a separate bowl: milk, egg and melted butter

• Pour milk into the first bowl and beat until smooth

2. Cooking:

• Melt butter onto a pan

• Add batter and cook until the top bubbles, then flip, repeat and serve

Today would be a quiet day for Goro, he decided, as he turned on the TV to watch the reruns of ☆ Phoenix Rangers Feathermen R ☆ that were currently airing, another favourite childhood indulgence of his.

Laying down on the pillow he had placed for when he decided to sleep on the couch, recently being unable to become comfortable in his bed, he took in the familiar, catchy theme song of the series. As he settled himself, the scent of coffee peaked out from under him, as he sniffed around and quickly realized it was coming from him.

Or rather it was unmistakably Akira Kurusu's scent that had imprinted on him, even though he had abandoned the pajamas the other man had snuggled up against when they slept together. Forgetting the opening scene of Red Hawk for a moment, he pressed against himself and inhaled. It was warm and smelled lightly of the spices he used in his cooking. Goro pulled back, reprimanding himself for being so pathetic, like a teenager in love.

He had to go take a shower and wipe off any other trace of Kurusu's affection on him…

… how long had it been since he last hugged someone like that?

As night blanketed over the sky, Goro tucked himself into the too-big bed devoid of his mother's presence. He'd gotten used to it, a little bit, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it.

He missed the warmth of another person's body pressed up against him- protecting, nurturing, safe. He wanted to feel the way her arms wrapped around him again, as if she could complete him, but lately it almost seemed as if she had been avoiding him- not wanting herself to be seen by him.

Alone in the night, with shadows lurking in the corners of his room, he snuggled underneath the covers. It was time for him to grow up, stop fearing the products of his own cognition that put fear into him, leaving him shivering under bed sheets he used like a shield, but growing up was hard and he wasn't ready yet.

Even as an ally of justice, he needed a bit more training before he was ready to fight the evils that hid in the dark.

For now he'd shut his eyes tight and pretend they weren't there.

…

……

………He couldn't sleep.

What would his mama do when he couldn't sleep, he wondered, squeezing himself tight in a protective shell made of himself. She'd sing lullabies and stroke his hair, or tell stories until he was too tired to listen anymore and fell asleep with a smile. But Goro wasn't a good singer, no matter how much his mama insisted he was, and stroking his hair himself didn't feel as good. He couldn't think of any good stories either.

Giving up with frustration, he lay there pliantly, trying to expel all the thoughts from his head.

Creak .

Flinching, his little, red eyes darted to the door that had suddenly squeaked open, allowing a tall, slender figure to stumble inside. The fear that had grabbed him quickly unleashed him from its grip. He knew who that figure was, he could never mistake her even in a darkness so void and empty as the one that surrounded the both of them.

"Mama?" Voice not reaching any higher than a meek whisper, he waited for her to speak, to say something that explained her sudden presence. She didn't, instead walking in a weakened manner to his bed and placing herself underneath the covers, spooning the smaller body of her son.

It felt as if the Gods had been listening to Goro, feeling gracious and granting his small wish, but something didn't feel right. Mama wasn't singing him lullabies or stroking his hair. The words she muttered to him when he spoke up to her weren't fun stories either.

"Mama?" Turning his head to face her, he repeated, hoping to pry something out of her.

"Goro…" she murmured, holding him tighter, "Sweet boy, go to sleep," cooing, an air of tiredness coated her thin voice. "My little ally of justice…"

"Were you scared?" He whispered, "Of the evil in the shadows?'

Humming strangely with no reason, her long nails carded through his hair. "No, no, mommy doesn't get scared of the shadows," she grinned deliriously, "because mommy's a bad, villain person, okay?"

He whimpered. What was she saying? His mama was the nicest person! She was a good guy and his hero! How could she say these things?

"No that's not-"

"-No, it is," smiling, she pressed her lips against his forehead, "Mommy is a broken woman and you're not going to let her poison you with her badness, okay?" She asked, less as a question and more as a statement- or a plea.

Goro was confused, he didn't know why she was saying all these cruel things about herself. He bit his lip and decided to comply, "Okay…" he replied, not knowing what he was agreeing to and not knowing if he had made the right choice even when she pressed her lips to his head again.

"Good boy."

Goro had gotten his wish- his mother's arms wrapped around him and her warmth enveloping him. 

…

………

…………In the morning the bed was empty again.

Groggy, he looked around, a soft noise resembling the sound of "Mama" left his lips as he rubbed his weary eyes and trotted out of bed in his red Feathermen pajamas.

The tired boy stumbled to the kitchen. No one was in it, the countertops were barren and no breakfast was made. Like clockwork his stomach grumbled loudly and he sighed, hoping his mama would be up soon to make something delicious, or just something filling.

Footsteps dragged across the cold floor as he pushed open the door of his mama's room, muttering for her like he was lost. No response came so he peeked his head over her bed. Empty; the sheets were mussed about and the pillows creased, yet no sign of his mama.

Stumbling clumsily upon it, his sights now dragged down to the floor on the side of the bed…

"…Mama?"

Her body slumped on the ground gave no response.

In a panicked daze he clambered to her, holding her cold cheeks in his tiny hands to get her to face him.

"Mama! Wake up!" Over and over again he called out for her, but she was having a really good dream that she didn't want to wake up from.

Goro tried to pull her up to the bed, pushing aside the strange bottle of medicine she had in her hand that didn't seem to work in whatever it was meant to do because his mama was cold and her eyes were dull and she didn't seem like she was happy and healthy at all.

Her body didn't budge one bit and all he could do was sit wrapped around her and cry because he was too small and too little and everything inside him was too big. His jolting pushed her head forward, leaning into the crook of his neck as if trying to give him comfort even from the grave, but it didn't didn't because hot tears pushed out of him persistently with no one left to wipe them away.

Mama had had times like this before, where she was too tired to get up from bed and Goro couldn't move her out, but at least she'd give him a little smile from bed.

That's all Goro wanted right now.

A little smile.

Chapter Text

In the morning, the bed was empty.

Akira should've expected it, really, it was wishful thinking to believe a man who made his living off of spending the night with others would stay to watch the morning sun rise. Yet still it hurt.

He didn't like to make a habit of dawdling on his disappointments for long, after all there was always a next time with Akechi to talk about Feathermen and eat dinner together. Akira couldn't help but smile at thinking how well Akechi would get along with his adoptive sister, Futaba.

Pulling out his phone, a warm, fuzzy feeling overcame him, similar to when he and Kasumi first started dating- sneaking into each other's beds like the blushing teenagers they were.

It was brainless sentimentality, he knew, but he truly just wanted to express his gratitude to the other man.

Huh?

… where is Akechi's contact?

Scrolling furiously through his contacts, skimming past Ann , Futaba , Haru , Sumire , he could find no sign of Akechi . Further on he reached Hifumi , Makoto , Shiho , and yet not a single hint of the contact previously known as 'Crow' . Ryuji , Yusuke , Mishima passed by in his endless list and yet…not a trace of him anywhere.

It made no sense, he had texted Akechi recently so his number should've been one of the first to pop up, not to mention being one of the first names in the alphabetized order.

Akira had first found his number on a card edged into the side of a notice board outside his apartment, looking very much like a lawyer's business card at first and looking even more like whoever put it there wanted it to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Now he was fully focused on this task, he had to have it done first thing. After brushing his teeth and brushing out his messy bed hair (that honestly didn't look too different from his usual style), he ran out to the notice board where the card was...gone…

That was…unfortunate.

However, if there was one thing anyone needed to know about Akira Kurusu, it's that the moment he had set himself on a task, he would see it through to the end!

Stirring up a bowl of flour, milk and eggs for the delicious pancakes he would enjoy in the morning, he tapped off the excess and ladled some into his pan, giving him time to send a quick text to the one woman he went to for all his tech related issues.

Akira Kurusu  

Can you retrieve a number for me?

 

Humming, he typed and deleted and retyped over how he was to explain his situation.

Akira Kurusu

I got a number from this guy I met but it's not on my phone anymore 

There, that was vague enough to not stir any questions.

Futaba 

Ooooh has our heartbreaker finally gotten back into the dating scene (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)??

 

Akira Kurusu  

It's hard to explain

It was hard to explain.

How was he meant to explain that he'd in fact: hired a prostitute to his home and instead of having sex decided to have dinner with him and then learnt about his dead mom and his love for the Feather Men series and became hopelessly attached, yearning to know more of this mysterious stranger who left his bed half empty and his heart confused?

Futaba  

I don't think I really like the sound of that but okay ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Akira sighed before his attention was quickly taken by the pancake he had left on the stove. In a hurry, he flipped it to be met with a blackened bottom. Today just really wasn't his day…

The moment the bright side of the pancake hit the pan, his phone alerted in time.

Futaba  

From what I see on your phone's activity, someone was on it last night and deleted the contact 'Akechi' 

 

Futaba

Is that the guy you're sleeping around with now ಠಿ_ಠ

 

Futaba

Seems like a jerk if he deleted his own number from your phone 

Akira frowned, somehow not considering the possibility that Akechi himself may have deleted it. Did he dislike their time together? Did Akira come on too strongly and weird him out?

Akira Kurusu  

Could you restore it?

 

He didn't want to confront the questions spinning in his head.

Futaba

Easily, but are you sure he's worth it?

 

Futaba

Akira, I'm really really happy you're finally allowing yourself to come back to the dating scene, but I don't want anyone breaking your heart ヾ(>︹<｡)ﾉﾞ

Scraping his pancake onto his plate before adding another helping of batter onto the pan, Akira smiled gently at his sister's sentiments.

He couldn't really hide anything from her for long.

Akira Kurusu

This is kind of weird to explain but…

 

Akira Kurusu  

Basically, I hired this guy who's a prostitute (stick with me here) and you know how Sumi's anniversary is coming up, I just didn't want to have dinner alone so we ate together. 

 

Akira Kurusu  

And then I found out about his dead mom and how he likes Feathermen and all that and we slept together (not like that, just in the same bed) and I kind of sort of got attached 

 

Futaba

Akira, sweetie, we're grownups and you can tell big sis Futaba if you had sex and she won't shame you for it U-U

 

Akira Kurusu  

We didn't! 

 

Akira Kurusu  

I know this all sounds a bit dumb but, I really want to know more about him

 

Futaba  

Alright, alright, who am I to get in the way of love (づ ᴗ _ ᴗ) づ ♡

 

Futaba  

His contacts back into your phone

 

Akira Kurusu  

Thank you, I'll treat you to some yakisoba for this

 

Futaba

You better \(＞^＜)/

 

Futaba

I also found his food blog, if you want it o3o

Akira flipped his second pancake, phone in one hand and the pan in another, surprise on his face. Now wasn't that a fun little surprise?

Akira Kurusu  

I'd like a look

By look, Akira didn't intend to mean 'stalking a guy he met two week's ago's food blog', but it was how he ended up spending the rest of the morning after he had finished his slightly burnt pancakes topped with strawberries and cream.

Goro Gourmet - Coffee Cake

Today I had the opportunity to visit a local café near my area that had opened up recently. One of the items on the menu that had instantly drawn my attention was a coffee flavoured cake. Although I had been informed the cake itself lacked any actual coffee, I wanted to give it a try.

I'm glad I did! Such remarkable flavour! The sweet cream underneath the crumbly texture atop is perfect paired with a warm drink: like coffee!

Akira couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at reading such an enthusiastic drabble over cake and coffee. Perhaps he should ask his manager and friend, Haru, to add coffee cake to their menu. It may well find itself to be a hit in their little café.

Goro Gourmet - Tiramisu

A friend of mine had invited- or rather dragged me- to a place she had been meaning to visit. The items on the menu had all been very appealing, but the first thing that had really caught my eye was the tiramisu that was offered; a personal favourite of mine, but so hard to be done right.

I took my chances and with the first bite… amazing ! 

So sweet and creamy with a soft and light texture! Definitely a recommendation of mine!

Chuckling into his palm, Akira couldn't help the amusement of the high school girl excitement paired with a business man's professionality that came from Akechi's posts.

Maybe he should try to make tiramisu? He had dabbled in baking and dessert making significantly less than he had in cooking, but for Akechi he'd be willing to try new things.

He wondered how he'd react to it, if he'd smile in delight with the same joy that he exuded in his blog posts. 

Akira couldn't help thinking of Kasumi. Her joy that sprung out like summer rays when he'd cook for her, he'd thought he'd never find it again. 

His friends had been reassuring him that it would be completely fine had he decided to ever re-enter the dating scene, but a part of him couldn't help but feel guilty. What would Kasumi think? Of him moving on so quickly? 

He loved her, he loved her, he did and it was consuming him: his love for her.

But Akechi entered his life and suddenly he felt things he was certain he'd never feel again. A joy for cooking, for feeding, for comforting and for closeness- domestic pleasures he had been denying himself for so long.

Akira was young at twenty four, even if Futaba called him an old man when he didn't know how to operate the latest tech, but when Kasumi passed he felt so withered. As if a lifetime had flown past him, not leaving him with much left. When he was with Akechi, he was certain the world had brought the light into his dim life once more.

If he allowed it, Akira would cook for Akechi everyday.

…he should probably send that text to him.

Akechi

The name seemed so daunting now, oh God he was panicking. How was he meant to explain how he'd gotten his number back? 

"Hi Akechi, I noticed you deleted your number from my phone last night so I got my hacker little sister to bring it back haha."

Should he have even restored it? If Akechi went out of his way to delete it from his phone (which he should really put a password on) then it clearly meant he didn't want Akira contacting him? Why didn't he think of that sooner?

He was a prostitute for crying out loud! Why would Akira hold any significance to him?

Typing and deleting and hovering over the multitude of characters he could string together that suddenly looked so intimidating, he took a deep breath in and exhaled.

If there was one thing anyone needed to know about Akira Kurusu, it's that the moment he had set himself on a task, he would see it through to the end!

Akira Kurusu  

Hey, I just wanted to thank you for last night, I know my request was really weird but I'm glad you accepted 

 

Akira Kurusu  

And yeah I may have gotten my adoptive sister to restore your number to my phone after you deleted it but I'm fully willing to delete it if you don't want to hear from me anymore haha

 

Oh God, who was this guy…

Every crumb of his charisma…down the drain.

Sighing and begging to whatever God would take mercy on him that Akechi didn't find him too pathetic, he decided to make work on cleaning up his apartment for the day, the house feeling especially empty, as he waited for a reply.

It wasn't until the early tides of night pulled in that he had received one.

Akechi

You're so intersibg 

 

Akechi

I'm wastef as hellll

 

Akechi

Come over..

Alright, that wasn't what he was expecting.

Akira Kurusu 

Akechi, is everything alright over there?

The messy text was very different from his usual formal style of writing. He was definitely drunk.

Akechi  

Your so weird 

 

Akechi

Reacjng out to me wmrn I deletef my nimber

 

Akira Kurusu  

I'm calling you

Akira was no stranger to drunk texts from friends and having to be the one to make sure his gang of idiots wouldn't get themselves killed while partying, but this definitely threw him off. So much so that he could ignore the comment about being weird.

Ring! Ring! Riiiiing!

" Akechi, pick up… "

Beep!

"Akechi, is everything alright over there?" He hurriedly asked, a deep groan on the other end as his response.

" Fuck , Akira…" Akechi whined like he was in pain, "Why are you wasting your time with me?" Slurring, his voice came out gruff.

"I'm not wasting my time…" Akira replied, confused. "Where are you? Is everything okay?" 

It wasn't too long until Akira could pull an address out of him through the unintelligible words he slurred, rushing over to where he was.

Rapping on the door three times, he waited for a response. A lock twisted open on the other side and standing haggardly at the door was Akechi: his brown hair mussed dramatically and his posture slumped and easy.

"Akira…" he mumbled and the man in question sighed and pushed his way inside the apartment.

The inside was small, not in a homely manner, but like a sterilized, soulless dome with little decor or signs of life other than Akechi's coat hung up on a hook and his shoes tossed near the door. Akechi himself was holding his head with unease, as Akira quickly made his presence known to his house and placed his grey coat on the wall hook and kicked off his own shoes next to Akechi's.

Placing a careful hand on his back, he started to coerce him over to wherever the living room was, hoping he at least had a sofa in the almost empty apartment. "How much have you had?" Muttering, Akira held him by the back and placed him down on the couch, as he groaned senselessly.

"Five, six maybe…" he murmured and Akira's eyes were quickly drawn to the cans that had accumulated on the low coffee table between the TV and the couch.

"Jesus Christ, Akechi…" cringing, he started to collect up the empty cans and started mapping out the nearest bin. "Were you trying to see God?"

He threw his head back and laughed bitterly, "Someone like me isn't going to get a meeting with God longer than a few seconds before he decides where I go."

Akira opted to ignore that rather depressing statement and chucked the cans into the bin, his sight attaching to the container of miso ramen he had saved for Akechi to take now in the sink. He hoped he liked it.

"Why did you come here?" Akechi breathlessly muttered, seemingly more to himself than to Akira who raised a brow.

"Because you asked me to?" He confusedly responded, half-certain he hadn't misread the 'come over' text.

"You shouldn't be here…with me…" leaning his head back, he held his head.

Sighing, Akira rummaged through his cabinets to find a glass, which didn't take long with how little dishes Goro had, and filled it up with tap water. "Why's that?" He asked, handing Goro the glass that he gripped at and downed.

"Because I'm going to poison you," he hiccuped, setting the glass down on the table with force now that he was sat up, "I'm going to poison you with my badness."

A frown pulled down on Akira's lips. What was Goro saying? Why did he feel the need to talk in such depressing riddles? 

Instinctively, he wrapped Goro into a hug, the two cuddled up on the couch.

He felt the untimed stutters of Goro's body, as he was squeezed, sobs breaking out that were muffled by his shoulder.

"Akechi," Akira whispered, rubbing comforting circles on his back, "You're not 'poisoning' me," he mimicked his words back, still unsure what he meant by that, "If it weren't for you I wouldn't have started to love cooking again, I'm happy I met you."

Struggling, he pulled off Akechi from where he had decided to morph himself with Akira's shoulder and pushed away the mess of his bangs that covered his pinkened eyes, holding him up by the chin to get Akechi to look him in the eyes.

"Talk to me, Akechi," he frowned, cupping his cheeks, "What's wrong?"

The other man seemed like a fussy child in his grip, pouting with puffy eyes and a drunken, red hue spreading along his face. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because I care about you," Akira sighed, "Sit still, i'll make you something to eat to even off what you drank." Making his way to the fridge, he opened it up to be met with the sight of…some pancake mix and very little else. The freezer wasn't very fruitful either, mainly full of frozen meals prepared via microwave.

"You know what, I'll just order us something," closing the fridge door, he massaged his temples and sat down next to Akechi. "What do you want?"

"You don't have to do this-" 

"Nuh uh," wagging his finger, Akira cut him off firmly, "I'm not just doing this for you, I'm doing this for me so I don't have to eat microwaved meals," he half-lied, "Now, what do you want? I was thinking chinese."

A pause filled the space between them as Akechi seemed to have given up on a retort, now attempting to piece his intoxicated mind together. "Chinese, sure."

"The steamed buns and chow mein looks good," Akira hummed, looking at his phone, "We can get the milder version," he smirked at Akechi who pouted at the reminder of the takoyaki incident .

"Don't mock me," he slurred and Akira giggled.

It didn't take long for the food to arrive, Akira politely greeting the underpaid delivery person and bringing both of their dinners. Things felt… different in Goro's apartment, he hadn't had another person occupying his space in- well, ever. Akira himself didn't seem like he really belonged in Goro's dingy living quarters, his presence made for his own warm, memory-filled home.

Akira's words bounced around the corners of his slowly sobering brain.

"If it weren't for you I wouldn't have started to love cooking again, I'm happy I met you."

He could have that effect on people? All he did was sit around and eat Akira's food that he cooked by himself, not even providing any services to him. What was Akira so happy about?

The time he had to think on the thoughts that pooled in his head was cut short as Akira happily returned to the living room with two white plastic bags in his hands. The smell of bao buns and noodles that filled the air gave a stark reminder to Goro of how stupidly hungry he was.

Getting to his feet carefully, he took the bags from Akira and set out the red card containers on the table, making an attempt to be useful.

"Careful," Akira gently warned, taking a seat on the couch.

"I'm fine," Goro murmured, the alcohol swimming around in his empty head.

Shaking his head in the affectionate manner one would when reacting to a stubborn child, Akira grabbed at his chopsticks and picked up one of the fat buns, teeth biting into the soft, doughy texture that encompassed the savory pork filling. It was good! The ingredients seemed mostly minimal, Akira thought that he could try to recreate it himself if he wanted.

He felt… inspired ! 

Get!

「Bao buns recipe ×1」

"These are great!" He smiled with bliss at the food entering his stomach, looking over to Goro who was picking at his chow mein, timidly eating away at a rapid speed.

"It's very flavourful," he murmured, far more happy with finally getting a proper meal than he was letting on, "I'll pay you back for this."

Akira blinked, then shook his head. "No need, it's my treat."

"Kurusu-kun, please allow me at least this," Akechi protested, a guilt inside of him from all the times Akira had treated him to dinner without an expectation for any kind of service.

Waving him away, Akira slurped up the noodles into his mouth, "Just don't worry about it."

Akechi groaned in response, "Honestly, Kurusu-kun-"

" Akira ."

"-Akira." He hiccuped, "I haven't provided a single service for you at the times you've hired me and you continue to slave away to feed me," he turned to Akira. "At least let me pay you back."

A frown pulled down at Akira's eyes. "Akechi," he stiffened. "You're my friend and I care for you. I don't need you to feel forced to reciprocate."

A silence passed by them, as Akechi grabbed at one of the buns, chewed, then swallowed. "Being that nice is going to bite you in the ass."

A huff came from Akira. "I'm going to put something on the TV."

The first thing that popped up on the screen was the iconic intro of a ☆ Phoenix Rangers Feathermen R ☆ opening, as Goro had last been watching that channel before turning the TV off. It had been playing marathons of the show all day long and who was Goro to miss the opportunity to find comfort in a fragment of his childhood.

The colourful costumes and flashy fight scenes often reminded him of how he'd prance around with his favourite toy ray gun as a child, gallivanting as an ally of justice for his mother.

Those times were long behind him now.

Goro felt foreignly comfortable to allow Akira to take control or what they'd watch, as he decided to leave on the episode that was just starting, and he felt almost safe and soothed with their shared interest in Feathermen. He felt the other man's head lean back against his chest, his grey eyes coyly looking back as if to check what he was doing was okay. Goro simply wrapped an arm around him, his hands holding up his container of chow mein in front of himself, content with having to figure out how to eat in this position.

With Akira's body heat pressed up against him, food in his stomach and his favourite show on the TV, he couldn't help but feel relaxed, like he was a kid again.

At what point he had drifted off, he couldn't recall…

The episode had reached its conclusion, Red Hawk and Black Condor having a touching promise to continue as rivals against the backdrop of the sunset. Akira turned to Goro, who he had just realized had gone eerily still.

"Goro?" He murmured, feeling bold enough to use his first name. The man in question had fallen asleep contently, back pressed against the couch. A smile stretching upon his lips, he leaned up and pressed a kiss to his forehead, wriggling out of his grip before picking him up in his arms. 

Wouldn't hurt to stay the night.

Get!

「Joker's Kitchen: Recipe (4) ×1」

~Chinese steamed buns~

Ingredients:

• 1 ¾ cups all-purpose flour, divided

• ¾ cup warm water, divided

• 1 tbsp active dry yeast

• 1 tsp white sugar

• 2 tbsps white sugar

• 1 tbsp vegetable oil

• ¼ tsp salt

• ½ tsp baking powder

Method:

1. Juicy buns:

• Mix: ¼ cup flour, ¼ cup water, yeast and 1 tsp sugar, allow it to sit for 30 minutes in a large bowl

• Mix into previous mixture: Remaining flour, water, sugar, vegetable oil and salt

• Knead into a smooth and elastic dough, transfer to a greased bowl, roll to coat with pool, let sit for ≈3 hours

• (Violently) punch dough and spread onto a floured board, sprinkle baking powder on the dough surface, kneading for 5 minutes

• Create two halves; set aside one half in a covered bowl and divide the other into 12 balls

• Transfer each ball onto waxed paper with the smooth surface facing up, repeat the previous previous with the other half of the dough

• Cover and let sit for 30 minutes

2. Getting steamy:

• Boil water in a wok, reduce to medium heat and place the steam plate on a small wire rack in the middle of the wok with a 2 inch space 

• Place the buns onto the steam plate with 2 inches between each one

• Cover and steam for 15 minutes until fully cooked

In the morning the bed was empty.

Wait, bed? Goro didn't recall ever going to his bed, his last memory was with Akira on the couch.

Speaking of Akira…

Groggy and confused, Goro turned on his bed to his bedside table where a paper note was.

Stepped out for a bit to buy ingredients for breakfast, will be back soon :) !

 

-Akira 

He checked his phone. 10 am. He'd slept in for a while and now that he had managed to scrape together his senses, he noticed the wafting smell of something delicious cooking in his kitchen, which was definitely out of the ordinary considering he'd mostly just smell the scent of burning.

Stretching with a groan and carding his fingers through his outrageous bedhead, he made his way to the kitchen.

"Oh, you're finally awake."

There stood Akira Kurusu working hard over Goro's stove top, chopsticks in hand to turn over what appeared to be an omelette over a clump of meat and rice.

"Morning…" he murmured, not knowing what else to say, slipping into the peaceful warmth Akira created in the environment around him and leaning over his shoulder to see what he was cooking.

Akira was surprised but made no attempt to move him off where he now laid sleepily on him, not that he really wanted to move him anyways…

Perhaps it was because of the confirmation of last night that he could do this, that Akira stroked the top of Goro's head while he single handedly flipped over the omelette for the omurice and turned off the ignition of the stove.

With his hair moved from his forehead, he pressed a kiss to it.

Goro flinched, looking up at him with a bright, red tone spilled over his face, eyes wide and suddenly very conscious. Akira stared back nervously before grabbing the handle of the pan and tipping over the omurice he had prepared for Goro into the single-use plastic plates he could find in his house, next to his own breakfast that had been sitting patiently while he cooked.

"S-sorry," he muttered, before Goro quickly shook his head.

"No, you can do that," he affirmed.

"Are you…sure?" Akira fiddled with the chopsticks in hand.

"Yes," red eyes looked away, "You're allowed."

"Okay," nodding to himself like he was reassuring the information told to him, he held Goro's plate out to him. "I made you breakfast."

Omurice: made of eggs, rice, meat and other components Goro did not previously have in his kitchen. "I had pancake mix in the fridge you could've used instead."

Akira wrinkled up his nose. "Absolutely not."

Just like the night before, the two sat on the sofa. Just as Goro began to dig into the egg he remembered he had neglected to brush his teeth in his haste to see what Akira was cooking. Sparing a glance at the other man who looked so content to eat with him, he decided he could do it after.

"This is delicious," swallowing it down, he praised Akira, who beamed happily (how was he so put together in the morning?). "Thank you for this meal."

It was truly amazing, the soft, fluffy texture overlaid on the savoury rice and chicken underneath with a thick sauce that brought to light a tangy taste atop the other strong flavours.

It reminded him of a time his mother tried to recreate a recipe she had seen online of a cute bear tucked under an omelette blanket, but Goro inherited his bad cooking skills from her and the poor bear seemed more like it was being carried out onto a hospital stretcher.

"No problem!" His soft and genuine smile made its way up to the gentle crease of his silver eyes. "There's some ingredients left over in your fridge if you want to use them after."

"You're not going to take them with you?" Goro questioned.

"Why would I?"

"Because you're the one who bought them," he deadpanned. 

Akira shrugged, picking up more of the rice with his spoon, "I don't need them," he gave a sharp look to Goro, with a hint of judgment underneath, "But your kitchen really does."

Goro pretended he didn't take any psychic damage from that. "Truthfully, if I tried to cook anything with what you've given me, it'd end up charred."

Humming, the other man seemed to be deep in thought before perking up, "Then let me teach you."

"What?"

"I'll teach you," unwavering, he repeated, "You can learn how to cook."

Goro wasn't averse to it but , "Don't you think you've already cooked enough for me, Kurusu-kun? I'd hate to burden you with-"

A finger shut up his lips. "First of all, Goro , I do this for me ," he pointed to himself, "I like to cook for you out of my own interest, so enough of trying to get me to stop, because I won't."

Removing Akira's long finger from over his mouth, he huffed, but couldn't fight the smile that cut across his lips. "You're very stubborn."

Akira grinned with a playful will to fight.

"Fine, I'll take up your offer," he allowed himself to be defeated, standing up to put his empty plate in the trash.

"You won't be disappointed," the other smirked, allowing Goro to take his own.

Halfway out the door, Akira turned back. "Oh, and uh," he shyly stammered, a blush returning to his face, "Call me, maybe? I like hearing your voice."

Goro looked from Akira to his phone, adding his contact back to it, "I'll do that."

"Cool, cool," black hair falling over his eyes as if to cover him, he fiddled with his fingers, "Thanks."

Then he was out the door.

Goro stood there, still.

Fuck .

He had the worst hangover right now.

Get!

「Joker's Kitchen: Recipe (5) ×1」

~Omurice~

Ingredients:

• 1 tbsp vegetable oil  

• ½ small onion diced 

• ⅓ cup frozen peas and carrots 

• 1 cup cooked short-grain rice 

• ½ tbsp ketchup

• 1 tsp soy sauce 

• 80g diced, skinless chicken breast

• 1 tbsp vegetable oil 

• 2 large eggs 

• 1 tbsp milk 

• 1 tsp salt 

• 1½ tbsps cooking oil  

• 1 tbsp cornstarch

• 1 tbsp ketchup 

• 1 tsp regular soy sauce 

• 1 tbsp tonkatsu sauce 

• 1 tbsp sugar 

• ¼ cup milk 

• ¾ cup water

Method:

1. Let's get saucy:

• Combine: cooking oil, cornstarch, ketchup, regular soy sauce, tonkatsu sauce and sugar

• Heat the mixture while adding milk and water, cook until simmering brown

2. Rice and shine:

• Heat vegetable oil in a pan over high heat until lightly smoking

• Add rice, cook until pale brown and toasted. Transfer to a bowl

3. I'll be honest I'm running out of puns: 

• Heat vegetable oil in a pan over high heat until lightly smoking (again)

• Add: Peas and Carrot, cook and then add chicken

• Add: Cooked rice, cook for 5 minutes

• Add: Ketchup, cook until all the rice is coated 

• Add: Onions, cook then remove rice from heat

4. Egg-stremely good:

• Whip: Eggs, milk, salt, and water until peaks form

• Clean pan with a paper towel 

• Heat vegetable oil in a pan on medium high heat until shimmering 

• Add: Eggs, stir rapidly with a spatula, stop once the eggs are creamy and gently spread evenly

• Cook if runny and remove from heat 

• Place the omelette atop the rice and serve with sauce