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“Ichiro?”
“Hm?”
“Ichiro!”
“What?”
“Look at me.”
Ichiro finally turns his head, taking his eyes off of the pancake he's trying to cook.
There's another three on a plate next to the stove, a paper towel laid hastily on top of them alongside a large lid from a pot.
Pancakes for breakfast is unconventional, despite it being widespread in North America, from what he's heard. He doesn't enjoy sweet things for breakfast, but every Saturday, he goes ahead and gives Shiro the pleasure of having something doused in syrup, whipped cream and powdered sugar. A… questionable combination, if anybody were to ask him.
Shiro grins cheekily, leaning in further from where he's standing, right next to Ichiro. The brunette feels arms snaking around his waist, and then Shiro's head on his shoulder.
“I love you.” The blond declares quietly, but Ichiro only looks unimpressed.
“Are you only saying that because I'm making you pancakes for breakfast?” He raises a brow.
Shiro's little chuckle confirms his suspicions, which makes him shake his head and sigh, looking back down at the pan, flipping the pancake on its other side to cook. For a moment, the only sound that fills the room is the two men's breathing and the sizzle of the pancake cooking, until Shiro speaks up again.
“I love you for real though too.” Shiro presses a small kiss to the crook of Ichiro's neck, making him go a slight shade of red.
“Can you not while I'm cooking? I'll burn your pancakes and then you'll kick me out of the apartment for it.” He huffs, face only hardening, unwilling to give Shiro the satisfaction of seeing him flustered.
Shiro, in turn, huffs as well, pulling off of Ichiro and crossing his arms. “Well so-rry, ‘Mr. Stick-in-my-ass’, I'll go wait patiently at the dining table, bib on and fork and knife in hand.” He then turns around and stomps away, sitting down so that he's facing away from Ichiro.
The brunette takes a second, before sighing and sliding the pancake onto his flipper, putting it on the plate with the others.
There's a long, stretched out moment of silence, before Ichiro reluctantly decides to say something.
“I didn't mean it like that.” He mutters, his tone sort of giving off a “kicked dog” tone.
Shiro's offended frown suddenly turns into an amused grin, getting up from the dining table and meandering his way back to the kitchen.
“Oh, I know.” The blond's smile widens, leaning on the counter.
Ichiro grumbles, brow furrowing and grip on his flipper tightening. Damnit, I fell right for it. This isn't the first time Shiro's done something like this, and yet he's not any less susceptible.
“Ugh… Just for that, you only get two pancakes and not three. And I'm taking away the syrup.” He suddenly proclaims, watching as Shiro's face falls into a surprisingly genuine nervous panic.
“Wait, wait wait wait, we don't have to go that far.” Shiro quickly stands up straight, watching in horror as Ichiro takes the syrup out of the fridge and puts it in a place Shiro clearly can't reach. “What am I supposed to do without it!? Whipped cream and powdered sugar do not make for a complete pancake stack!”
Ichiro suddenly grins, taking his apron and hanging it up before grabbing a plate from the cupboard. He stacks three pancakes on it, sliding it to Shiro across the counter and retrieving the syrup from its imprisonment.
“Oh, I know.” He mimics, watching again in similar satisfaction as Shiro's face goes blank, then the blond's eyebrow furrows.
All he gets is a grunt as he passes the rest of the ‘ingredients’ to the other man, before he can focus on his own pancakes. He puts a little bit of honey on them, drizzled with a spoon. He stomachs watching Shiro completely douse his pancakes in processed sugars as he sits down, peacefully eating despite their early morning banter.
It's times like this where he's grateful. Just a year ago or so, he never would have imagined he'd have the luxury to sit down and do something as simple as have breakfast with somebody. He was so focused on his job at the Public Security Bureau and finding Rion that romance wasn't even in his line of sight. Not until Shiro came into his life.
He still remembers their (sort of) first kiss, on New Years.
They'd been watching the live broadcast of the festivals and celebrations going on around the city, uninterested in going in person. It would give anybody out for their heads the perfect chance, potentially harming themselves and many others. It just wasn't worth it.
The camera had panned onto a large crowd of people as they counted down from 10, Ichiro not even really paying attention.
Just as the people started cheering and they started to hear fireworks going off outside of the apartment, Shiro grabbed his face and kissed him. It came as a complete surprise, and Ichiro froze on the spot. Just as Shiro pulled away, looking sheepish and a bit ashamed, Ichiro pulled the other man back and smashed their lips together.
It was-
“What's with that look on your face?”
Ichiro snapped out of his flashback, not even having realized he was just staring at Shiro with an odd blush.
“Sorry… I just… I love you too.” He smiles, making Shiro look at him as if he's crazy. He snickers, looking a bit embarrassed. “You said it to me earlier and I didn't say it back. Sorry.”
Shiro snorts, getting up. His plate, once adorned with a mountain of pancakes with ridiculous toppings, now completely empty. He strolls past Ichiro, bending down and placing a kiss on the brunette’s temple.
Before Shiro can get any further, Ichiro pulls the man down by the collar for a proper kiss. He pulls back after a second, seeing the amused grin on his boyfriend’s face.
“You're strange.” Shiro comments, before continuing his journey to the kitchen.
Ichiro looks back down at his barely touched pancakes, now cold and unappetizing. Yeah, maybe he is a bit strange.