Work Text:
Soft sunlight streams into the room through sheer window curtains. The warm rays tickled at Akane’s conscience, stirring him awake. As the veil of drowsiness slowly began to lift, his eyelids filled with a courageous glow of orange. He groans in protest, turning the other way in hopes of finding salvation from the sun’s obnoxious rays. In return, he was met with another groan that was not his own.
The sight that greets Akane when he opens his eyes is astoundingly mundane, yet beautiful all the same: a blissful Minamoto Teru in a deep, deep slumber with the sunlight kissing the side of his face, lashes illuminated like the feathers of an angels wings and warm breath escaping delicately poised lips. Captivated, Akane watches the steady rise and fall of Teru’s chest as his gentle snores fill the room. For what felt like forever, he studied all the features he somehow never noticed before: Teru’s barely noticeable fangs peeking from the corners of his mouth, his faint freckles littered all over his skin and his intricate lightning scars trailing from his nape to the part right under his ear—all of it had been going unseen for months.
(He questions if Teru had been deliberately hiding it from sight, remembering the small makeup bag he found tucked away in one of Teru’s desk cubbies. Akane’s spirit dampens at the thought and he makes a mental note to bring it up later.)
Despite the way weariness pricked at his eyes and drowsiness smothered his mind, Akane found himself struggling to fall back asleep. Suddenly, he’s all too aware of the arm that's snaked behind his back, the ache of an awkward sleeping position and the suffocating heat between two guys and an extra fluffy blanket. The combination of these things will Akane to awaken. Strategically, he attempts to maneuver himself out of Teru’s grasp, rolling to the side as the latter’s hand casually falls away from his waist. He slowly sits up, inching his way towards the edge of the bed until Teru whines, a low mumbly sort of sound, and Akane’s heart freezes in place.
He turns back to find Teru slightly frowning and rustling in place as if a great discomfort had befallen him. Akane releases his held breath as he realizes his boyfriend was just as sensitive and needy when he was asleep as he was awake. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he lives in the tranquility of the moment. The alluring sight of his lover sleeping peacefully whilst the sun painted the room in hues of gold was a sweet taste of domesticity Akane didn't know he was craving. The scents of hazy vanilla with traces of a fresh linen wafted through the air and while Akane was never one for sickeningly sweet scents, he couldn’t get enough of Teru’s warm aroma. Akane submitted to his demanding boyfriend, lightly combed Teru’s hair out the way to deliver a tender kiss on the forehead.
Like a fairytale, the kiss chased away the discomfort on his face and Teru was back to a peaceful slumber once more. Akane smiles at his handiwork, a quaint adoration breezing through his system. He slides off the bed and grabs his phone resting on Teru’s desk before making his way towards the door.
Catching a fleeting glimpse of Teru, Akane quietly closed the door behind him and rounded the corner into the bathroom. There, he carries on his usual morning routine and brushes his teeth with a brush gifted to him last night. Watching himself in the mirror's reflection, he stares at his morning bedhead, heavy eye bags and the nutty clothes Teru had lended him yesterday—an oversized t-shirt with a tacky pineapple plastered in front and some shorts—after he had spilt soda all over him. Teru claimed it was an accident but with the way his face lit up once Akane changed, he doubts it ever was. As much as Akane would complain though, the delight was an adorable look for such a conniving bastard.
Tch. Adorable…God, he was getting sappy.
He spat out the toothpaste and washed it out with water, swearing to himself that his newfound lover would never hear this from him. Not now, not in a few months, not even in a million years. While his growing ‘love’ towards the exorcist had certainly chipped away at his resistance to showing affection, Akane had too much pride to admit that he had fallen under Teru’s spell too.
Akane takes one last look at the mirror, eyes drawn to the goofy shirt. Tentatively, he brings it to his nose, taking a deep inhale of the swirl of vanilla and laundry detergent and getting lost in the scent.
Walking out of the bathroom, a friendly Fishy prances right up to Akane, inquisitive eyes peering into his soul. Her tail swings curiously as she bids a calm meow at him and Akane can’t stifle the small smile as he replies, “Morning to you too,” and makes his way to the kitchen.
The kitchen is enveloped in the warm sunlight shining through the windows, illuminating the wooden countertops and utensils. Outside, Akane can hear sounds of the awakening world: the morning song of neighborhood birds, rustling of overgrown trees and cars passing by the streets. He lets out half a laugh and half a sigh as he catches the faintest whiff of the—as Teru proclaimed—tastefully burnt cookies they made last night. He finds the cookies in question innocently sitting on the counter, all wrapped up in its scorched glory. It’s a mystery as to why their sleep-deprived selves decided to keep them around but he’s glad for the reminder not to let Teru in the kitchen again.
A hollow rumble echoes throughout Akane’s stomach and for a split-second, he debates taking a bite out of a cookie until he ultimately decides he’s not in the mood for coals so early in the morning. For a few minutes, Akane rummages through the fridge to find something to eat, stumbling upon various ingredients rather than actual meals. Of course that was to be expected after Akane ate the leftovers meant to last Teru until the morning when Kou would return from his sleepover. It’s funny how Teru needed his meals prepped by a middle schooler. For whatever Teru lacks, Kou makes up for tenfold in the kitchen.
He shakes off the thought, deciding to make do with whatever was in the fridge and cook for them both. As he gathers all the while hoping that no one would mind his perceived entitlement to the Minamoto kitchen. Once he’s gathered everything, Akane sets the well oiled pan onto the stove and cranks the heat up. While he waits for it to heat up, Akane begins to start cracking eggs.
“Mnnn, Akane?”
Akane whips around to see a sleepy Teru practically limping towards him like a moth to light. For a person that just came out of bed, every part of him looked perfectly intentional: his hair was fine, eye bags nonexistent and his sweater looked as normal as it could be. If he was being honest, it annoys him to see that Teru was gifted by the gods to be unconventionally attractive at all times while Akane wakes up looking like a hungover rat most days but he supposes his effortless beauty is no replacement for his god awful cooking.
Teru lazily wrapped his arms around Akane’s waist and leaned on his head. “Why’re you up so early?” he whined, a husky undertone to his voice that sends jolts of electricity down Akane’s system. He fights the feeling, continuing to mix everything.
“It’s nine.” Akane deadpanned.
Teru grumbles at the response but Akane could honestly care less about the sleepyhead’s quibblings; he was hungry and absolutely nothing would come between him and his breakfast.
“What're you making?” Teru asks, reaching for the small bowl filled with greens as Akane abruptly bats his hand away.
“Breakfast. Don’t touch anything, God knows what happens when you’re in the kitchen.” Akane mutters.
“Whattt, I'm not that bad. Cut me some slack.” Teru pouts.
“Only if you promise not to touch anything. You saw what happened last night.”
“Fine, fineee. What can I do then,” Teru asked, nuzzling into Akane’s neck, “darling?”
Akane sputtered a bit at the endearment. It wasn't exactly common for Teru to use them unless he wanted to taunt him or catch him off guard. But the way it fell out of his mouth so easily, so casually like a subtle truth he let slip in his sleepy stupor was dizzying. Combined with his gentle touch, loving warmth and groggy voice, Akane was growing ever so fond of the drowsy exorcist.
He coughs, trying to stifle the butterflies in his stomach. “I guess you can just put on some music or…something,” Akane instructed, pointing to his phone resting on the counter.
Teru quickly got to work, momentarily releasing Akane from his hold. With the distraction gone, Akane turned his attention back to his pan, grabbing the small dish full of minced sausage and tossing it into the hot pan. He listens to the satisfying sizzle and gets lost in the wonderful smell as he prepares the rest of the ingredients.
It’s a charming scene: cooking breakfast on a sunny morning for him and his boyfriend. The domesticity makes it so easy to imagine what a future could look like for Akane and he doesn't know whether he should melt or throw up at such a proposition. On one hand, waking up to such a loving, comfortable atmosphere like this would make Akane look forward to every single day. On the other hand, he knows the world doesn't work that way. There’s challenges they've yet to discuss, responsibilities they’ve been drowning under, differences they've been ignoring—things that feel suffocating with the thought of marriage. They’ll always have struggles whether that be in the form of the government, family members, themselves.
Akane turns to look at him, eyes tracing over the profile of Teru’s face. The sunlight breathes a new life into his exhausted self and for a second, Akane can really see the human in him. It lurks in his kind, yet tired cerulean eyes, pretty blond hair and a gentle smile gracing his features. When Fishy jumps on the counter and demands attention from Teru, he chuckles and he sets the phone down to run a hand through her fur. His smile widens, revealing those rare fangs again and the sight makes Akane think that maybe, just maybe, he’s well worth the struggle. They’re well worth the struggle.
‘Les rêves des amoureux sont comme le bon vin…’
Akane’s train of thought stops.
“Is that…”
‘Ils donnent de la joie ou bien du chagrin…’
“...fucking ratatouille?”
Teru turns around to his boyfriend with a smile on his face, completely oblivious to the monstrosity he just unleashed to Akane’s poor, poor ears. “What? It's a good song, you just have no taste.”
“That's rich coming from you.” Akane scoffs, pointing a quizzical look at Teru. “Do you even know how cheesy this is? Cooking with freaking ratatouille music???”
“Shhh, shhh mi amour, just enjoy the moment.”
Ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at the name, Akane objects, “How can I whe–”
Teru hushed Akane with a finger on his lips. In one smooth motion, he grabbed Akane’s hand and raised it to the side as waltz dancers do whilst putting his other hand on his waist. Moments pass as Akane attempts to break free from the other’s hold but when Teru immediately begins spinning him around, asking if he was afraid of being a bad dancer, Akane decides that if this was the grave he wanted to dig, then so be it.
Akane was no dancer, that much was obvious. He never cared much for the arts, let alone dancing of any sort but it didn't stop him from trying his damn hardest to prove to Teru that he was at the very least a decent dancer. They followed each other’s steps, kept hands at optimal positions and tried to follow the music, holding a friendly, spiteful smile on each of their faces as they waited to see who’d break first. While Akane liked to believe they were on equal playing fields, he starts to get the feeling Teru was a little uncoordinated. While his footing was decent, his step was all out of rhythm as soon as he would return from a spin. Sometimes, his movements were slow and awkward, leading Teru to step on his foot a couple of times.
“You know, for a guy called Prince Charming, you really are shit at dancing.” Akane remarked when he stepped on his foot one time too many.
Teru watched as Akane stumbled into a cabinet again. As he lets out a dismayed ‘ow’, Teru chuckles, “You’re no dancer yourself, klutz."
“Bullshit, you know I’m amazing.” He smiled with playful defiance in his eyes.
Trying to prove a point, Akane releases a hand from his waist and swings his arm out. To anyone else, it was an obvious invitation for Teru to simply spin away but the exorcist’s execution was oblivious to this fact. Like the show off he is, Teru tries to do multiple spins in one go leading him to trip over his own foot, stumble backwards into Fishy and be swiftly sent downwards. He attempts to clutch the various cabinet handles on the way down but like a ship too far gone, there was no saving him.
With a thunderous thud, Teru’s butt meets the hard wooden floor and not a second later, a bolstering boom follows as Akane is pulled down with him. They groan in unison, backsides aching with the impact. As they slowly recover, a startling silence stretches between them, the atmosphere stuck somewhere in between dumbfounded and embarrassed. In all honesty, Akane should be mad he was pulled into the great fall. He should be chastising Teru for being so clumsy, so careless, so idiotic. But instead, he laughs; He laughs and laughs and laughs.
“And you called me a klutz!” Akane wheezes.
“Oh shush, amour.” Teru flushes, hand coming to smother his face.
Akane dodges his hand, rolling over laughing. “What a graceful fall, Prince Charming!”
Though Teru’s flush was deepening by the moment, he couldn't say he was too upset at his mistake as long as he could listen to Akane’s healing laughter. He smiles and rolls his eyes, watching as Akane continues his merceilous tirade.
When the laughter finally fades into riveting aches in Akane’s ribs, an overwhelming kind of giddiness settles in his chest. He smiles back at Teru who still manages to gaze at him adoringly even at his own expense. Carefully, Akane slides a hand to cradle Teru’s reddened cheek, running his thumb over his soft skin. Teru leans into the touch and Akane’s smile deepens, the giddiness flowering into an unmistakable fondness for the boy in front of him. They lean in, eyes fluttering closed and the moment their lips intertwined, all in the world feels right.
*BEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP*
—Until the fire alarm blared.