Work Text:
Kiku was startled to hear the distinct sound of a phone alarm so late into the night, even though his headphones. He removed the headset just in time for the alarm to shut off; curious, he closed his laptop and hurried to the door of his room to see what was going on.
Alfred emerged from the room opposite his, yawning. He blinked when he saw Kiku in the doorway of his own room. “... Oh,” he said, looking confused for a second. “When did you wake up?”
“I’ve been awake for the past few hours,” Kiku explained, his own brows furrowing. Didn’t the other nation remember? “The jetlag was making it hard for me to sleep, so I’ve been playing on my computer.”
Alfred stared at Kiku in disbelief. “Dude, it’s six in the morning.”
... What.
Kiku immediately fished out his phone. There was no way it was six in the morning. Just a few hours ago, he was greeting Alfred good night! He only planned to play a game until one or two in the morning so his body could acclimate to American time zones... But upon clicking his phone on, the truth flashed and lit his face up. 6:02. He had been gaming for a full seven hours.
He heard Alfred snort in front of him. “C’mon, bro, eat breakfast with me,” Alfred offered, nodding his head to the kitchen. “Then you can go to sleep.”
Kiku could only stand and stare as he watched Alfred head over to the small apartment kitchen. Seven hours of video games. He knew his sense of time had been getting more warped the older he got, but seven hours?? He could practically hear Ludwig clicking his tongue in disapproval in his mind. Kiku rubbed his eyes and reluctantly followed Alfred into the kitchen.
Alfred’s kitchen was modest, much like Kiku’s was. The only difference was that it was, unsurprisingly, styled in an American fashion: a large gas stove taking up the corner, multiple appliances on the counter, multiple cabinets hiding ingredients and pots and pans, and so on. Alfred bent down to open a hinged cabinet and pull out a decently sized plastic bag of oats. “Would you mind cutting up some fruit?” He asked. “Should be a bunch of apples and peaches in the fridge. Oh, and get the blueberries too!”
He did as told, pulling the fridge door open. The inside of Alfred’s fridge was full and cluttered, and it took a moment for Kiku to locate everything. The round fruits were in a wrapped-up plastic bag in one of the drawers while the blueberries sat unwashed in their plastic clamshell. Just as Kiku was about to shut the fridge door, Alfred squeezed past him and grabbed the milk.
Click click click. The gas stove lit up underneath a large pot of water. Alfred glanced in the pot before nodding in satisfaction, then opened a drawer to pull out a knife and cutting board for the fruit.
Kiku’s eyebrows rose. “You’re using my knives.”
“’Course I am! Why wouldn’t I use my most favorite Christmas present?” Alfred grinned as he twisted the knife around. Kiku was about to reprimand him for playing with such a dangerous object when Alfred set it down. “I’ll wash everything, and you cut?”
“Sure.” Kiku picked up the blade with much more care, and when Alfred handed him the first washed apple, he began to cut.
It all felt strangely domestic. Kiku arranged the apple slices in a circle on the plate like it was about to be photographed. Alfred peeled the sticker off a peach, rubbed the fuzzy surface, then rolled it off his arm for Kiku to catch. All they needed now was either a pet or a child floating around their legs, sleepy from a long night, and they would look like a picturesque family.
Just as Alfred poured the washed blueberries into a colander, a bubbling sound caught both of their attention. “Aw shit,” he cursed, dropping the colander to rush to the stove. He lowered the temperature and poured a generous cup of oats into the boiling pot. He let out of sigh of relief and grinned at Kiku. “Now we wait!”
Kiku slipped a berry into his mouth. “How long will it take?”
“Fiiiiiiive minutes? Yeah, five,” he nodded to himself. He grabbed a spatula to stir the oats a bit. “Bowls, we need bowls...”
Just as he reached for the drawer, Kiku’s hand was already there. Alfred pulled his hand back, embarrassed. “Oh, uh. You first,” he chuckled nervously.
With a raised eyebrow, Kiku opened the cabinet door. “Are there bowls you want to use?” He asked, standing on his tiptoes to look inside. He exhaled a sound that suspiciously sounded like a laugh, then pulled out some Pokémon themed bowls. “Like these?”
Alfred puffed his cheeks out in annoyance. “They’re good bowls! They’re even microwave safe!”
Kiku hid a laugh as he passed the bowls to Alfred. “I suppose I have no place to comment. I have novelty chopsticks designed after Tamagotchi characters.”
“See?” Alfred set two bowls side-to-side next to the stove – one with water Pokémon, the other with Snorlax – and passed the rest back to Kiku. “And I have seen the action figures lining your desk, dude. Like, damn.”
“We have our hobbies.” Kiku put the dishes away before slipping another blueberry into his mouth. “Mm, are these fresh?”
“Imported straight from Washington!” At Kiku’s quizzical look, it was Alfred’s turn to hide a smile. “The state, not my capitol.”
“... Ah.” He snuck another blueberry before watching the pot.
A couple minutes passed, and then Alfred scooped the oatmeal into the waiting bowls. By the time they added fruit and sat down to eat, the sunrise was visible from the windows.
“When will you be back from your work?” Kiku asked as he took the offered cinnamon shaker from Alfred’s hands.
Alfred shrugged, mixing his oatmeal vigorously. “Before six. That’s all I really know, ‘cuz that’s what I asked for. Because~” He leaned in with a grin. “We’re going to a restaurant that sells blowfish!”
Kiku nodded slowly. “I see. Any particular reason why?”
“’Cuz why not! Plus, it’s kinda your thing...” He took a moment to swallow a huge spoonful. “... ain’t it?”
“Not particularly,” Kiku shook his head. “I haven’t had blowfish since... mm. Ninety-three, I believe?”
“Seriously? But you’ve got lots of weird seafood stuff! Thought you ate it at least once a week!”
Kiku had to press his lips together to not laugh. Still, he couldn’t help his smile. “Alfred...”
“I’m joking, I’m joking,” Alfred grinned. He lifted the bowl up to slurp down the rest of his breakfast. “But yeah, that’s the plan! Whaddya think?”
He nodded. “It sounds good. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
“Yeah, of course! And, uh, mi casa, su casa, or whatever. Do whatever ya want!” Alfred stood up from the table to toss his dishes into the sink. “If you don’t mind, could you put the rest of the oats in the fridge? I gotta get ready.”
“Sure.” Kiku watched Alfred take long strides back to his bedroom, then continued to eat. Not a moment later, after Alfred had shut the door behind him, Kiku could hear the shower running. How domestic, he thought again. He picked up his bowl, similarly to how Alfred did, and ate the rest of his meal quickly.
By the time Kiku had put the dishes into Alfred’s elaborate washing machine and transferred the cooling oatmeal into plastic containers, Alfred finally emerged from his bedroom. He was dressed smartly, but plainly: white dress shirt, blue tie, jeans. Alfred snagged his backpack from his chair and slung his usual bomber jacket over his arm. “See ya tonight, Keeks!”
“See you,” Kiku greeted back. Then, “Have fun.”
Alfred winked at Kiku. “Bro, I always do! I have so much fun at work!” He swung the door open and waved. “Bye~!”