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Shirabu fumbled with the doorknob out of his dorm room. It was early morning, the sun was barely rising in the sky, and Shirabu was too acclimated to the dark to care. He didn't turn the light on. The misty dawn glow in the window faded as he closed the door into the hallway, and he trudged to the dorm kitchen on his floor.
Shirabu had a routine. He woke up, dressed, ate something quick in the kitchen, and either fell back asleep in his room or roused to full consciousness and stayed awake to study before school. Shirabu tried to hurry out of the kitchen so others could make breakfast since there wasn't much space for multiple people, and he rarely interfered with anyone cooking. Shirabu managed to reheat something he made the other day, or he set rice in a rice cooker and milled back in his room, or something else small and easy.
He rarely, rarely met Ushijima in the kitchen. He knew it probably happened at some point, they both had been at Shiratorizawa over a year by now, but Shirabu couldn't remember. Ushijima standing in the kitchen, in shirtless pajamas and slippers that shuffled with his drowsy movements, was something that Shirabu's flickering memory wasn't going to be able to handle.
Shirabu's eyes skimmed down to Ushijima's pajama pants, loose and comfortable in his legs and form-fitting close to his waist. Without a shirt, Shirabu could see the slight dip in the middle of his back, his muscles moving with his shoulders and arms as he turned off a rice cooker and transferred its contents to a bowl. His firm skin up to his neck spanned the width of his broad shoulders and curved around the side of his stomach, strength tensing in his abs and stomach from the angle Shirabu was given, Ushijima pausing to stretch his elbows in the air with a groaning yawn.
Ushijima threw out an eggshell and dropped an egg into a pan. He turned to reach for another ingredient on the counter, and his eye caught Shirabu.
"'Morning, Shirabu," he said sleepily.
"Good morning." Shirabu drifted in and took his place in front of the rice cooker, facing away as he filled it and set it on. Now that Ushijima knew he was there, he couldn't bring himself to look.
"Are you making egg and rice as well?"
"I'm just going to reheat miso soup from yesterday. I didn't finish it." Shirabu waved at him and left the kitchen to retrieve his leftovers from his room fridge.
He returned and headed straight to the microwave. After dialing the time, he stepped back and crossed his arms, staring into the window at his food.
"Would you like a banana, Shirabu?" Ushijima extended the fruit to him in one hand, his other hand at his chin as he surveyed the egg frying on the stove.
Shirabu glanced at him and took it. "Thanks." He began peeling right away, and he stuffed his mouth to give himself an excuse to stay quiet as the microwave droned on. He settled to nibbling after he managed to chew and swallow lumps of banana.
Shirabu opened the microwave, tested the bowl temperature, and reset the time for another 30 seconds. He watched Ushijima stir and shake his pan a little, the egg sliding around inside. Ushijima paused and regarded the pan with satisfaction, and he turned and stepped closer, in front of Shirabu.
"Excuse me." He stretched his arm past Shirabu to a cabinet above, and he pulled down a blender.
Shirabu placed his banana on the counter and removed his soup when the microwave beeped. Right after he put the bowl next to the banana, Shirabu snapped his hands away and rubbed them on his pants to smudge the sting of heat away. Ushijima's head tilted to him in curiosity, but he didn't say anything.
"I usually don't see you in the morning," Shirabu said.
"I woke up later today. I'm not going for a morning jog." Ushijima pressed a few pieces of fruit into the blender and turned it on, and they fell into a silence of white noise until Ushijima finished. He carefully poured his smoothie into a cup and relocated to the sink to wash the blender while eyeing his frying pan.
Shirabu's banana peel was in the trash can by the time his rice was done. He scraped rice into a separate bowl and set the rice cooker aside, and he leaned against the counter to stir and sip his soup, letting his bowl cool enough to carry. The hot rush through his throat calmed him, and he took a mouthful of rice with his chopsticks to eat.
Ushijima turned off the stove and swiveled the pan to drop the egg into his bowl of rice. Shirabu didn't move. His eyes followed Ushijima to the sink, his chopsticks tapping at his mouth in thought as Ushijima rinsed the pan to cool it and wash. Shirabu's teeth clamped on the edge of one of his chopsticks, silently eyeing Ushijima's back, chest, stomach, the curve of skin just above the waistband of his pajamas. Ushijima dried the pan with a towel and returned it to the cabinet, and he stopped to lift his hand to his chest, scratching a little as he gave another deep yawn.
Shirabu's eyes flicked away when Ushijima turned. "Do you need to use the sink?" Ushijima asked.
Shirabu fumbled with his chopsticks and caught them in the brief seconds they fell from his grip. He snapped them onto the counter to secure them from falling again.
"No, I don't. I'm about done here." Shirabu sighed and cupped his hands under his soup bowl, raising it carefully. He walked it to his room and placed it on his desk, and he returned to the kitchen for his chopsticks and rice.
"See you later, Shirabu. Enjoy your breakfast." Ushijima nodded to Shirabu on his way out, his chopsticks balanced on top of his rice bowl.
Shirabu sat at his desk and ate, chewing softly like he was mumbling. There was volleyball practice that morning, so they'd see each other in a little while, but it wouldn't be the same as seeing him first thing in the morning, Ushijima not completely awake.
Shirabu resolved to wake up earlier tomorrow.