Work Text:
Mordecai Heller, the infamous hatchetman, walked home from work after a rather unpleasant and extremely long day. Working with the Savoy’s for a few hours far too long took much out of the tuxedo than he would ever publicly admit. Stepping into the building he instinctively checked the mailbox for any letters. Finding none, he closed it, walked over to the elevators, entered one, and rode it up to the fifth floor. Once the elevator stopped on the fifth floor, he opened the gate and stepped into the hallway before turning on his heels toward his apartment door. Once he reached the door he pulled out the key from his coat pocket, unlocked it, opened it, and entered swiftly. Closing the door behind him he returned the key to its rightful place and took off his coat before hanging it up on the coat rack next to the door.
Once his coat was hung up it was only then when his brain registered the sound of a violin being played in the adjacent room. He walked into the living room of the apartment, seeing Roark “Rocky” Rickaby sitting on the end of the couch, violin in hand, eyes focused on a sheet of music placed upon a stand. Rocky’s eyes glanced up towards the tuxedo before he immediately stopped playing and beamed a wide toothy grin up at Mordecai “Welcome home my darling!” the tabby greeted. “Hello, dear…” Mordecai greeted back, in the opposite tone of voice, barely managing to pull off a small smile before he walked over to the couch and sat down on the other end, for symmetry of course.
Rocky immediately noticed something was wrong with Mordecai and he set down his violin in its case before sliding over to his boyfriend. “Something wrong?” he asked, head falling onto Mordecai's slumped shoulder. Too tired, or lazy, to turn his head Mordecai's eyes glanced over and looked at the usually hyper tabby. “Work was… very unpleasant…” Mordecai sighed. The tabby frowned and rubbed his head on Mordecai’s shoulder. “Ooooh, I’m sorry Mordecai. Was it those siblings again?” Rocky asked quietly, a small hint of venom in his voice as he suspected the Savoys of running his boyfriend’s day. Mordecai slowly nods in confirmation. “Yes, unfortunately.” Rocky hissed quietly at his mental image of the two siblings bothering his Mordecai which he had heard, indicated by his ears twitching.
“Hmmm…” Rocky thought out loud before standing up “Tell you what? How about I make dinner tonight? You should rest your worried little cute head.” Rocky delacred as he patted the top of Mordecai’s head. Mordecai opened his mouth to protest but it was too late, the tabby was already marching into the kitchen and out of sight. Giving up on attempting to talk Rocky out of burning the kitchen down, Mordecai slowly slid over to the middle of the couch to restore the balance of symmetry in the Heller-Rickaby apartment.
Once in the kitchen Rocky got to work and gathered the necessary ingredients for his all-time favorite meal, pancakes. He searched the perfectly organized pantries and found what he needed; flour, sugar, kosher salt, a few eggs, and milk and butter. Grabbing a pan and a bowl, he placed the pan on the stove, put all the dry ingredients into the bowl, and started mixing them… with his hand. After some mixing, he set the bowl down, added the eggs and milk, and mixed them, again, with his hand. Once all of the ingredients were mixed he turned on the heat for the pan brought out a spatula and began to create his magnum opus.
Mordecai was still slumped on the couch, even when the smell of cooking batter hit his nostrils, too tired to stop his boyfriend. Several minutes later Rocky re-entered Mordecai’s view, a plate full of syrup-covered pancakes and a fork in hand “Your Highness.” he bowed, placing the plate of flapjacks on Mordecai’s lap. The tuxedo looked down at the plate of, in his mind, unconsumable disks of fat and sugar and furrowed his brows in disgust. Moreso at the detail that Rocky’s hand is covered in batter, suggesting he failed to use actual cooking utensils in the cooking possess. “Thank you, Roark…” He started, still looking down at the pile of pancakes. “But you are aware I do not find pancakes appetizing, so I have to decline your offer.” Rocky’s face noticeably deflating at the rejection of his meal.
“However,” Mordecai started, putting a finger up to stop Rocky’s sadness, “your effort is very much appreciated, as always.” Mordecai smiled at the tabby and moved over just a little. “But, if you want to lift my mood, may I suggest sitting next to me?” He patted the couch where he wanted the tabby to sit, grabbing the plate with his other hand and holding it out for Rocky. Frown now replaced with his overbite grin, Rocky took a seat on the couch grabbed the plate of pancakes, and happily started to munch them down. Now the tuxedo could do what he wanted since he stepped inside the apartment, spend some time with his love. Mordecai leaned onto Rocky’s shoulder and let a small pur escape, Rocky doing the same, preparing for a long and relaxing night together.