Chapter Text
Piko carefully placed the cup of tea on the kitchen table, trying not to make any unnecessary noise. His movements were always careful, as if he was afraid that any awkward movement would disrupt the surrounding harmony. He sighed and looked at the window, where the sun was barely breaking through the roofs of the buildings. Morning rituals always brought him some kind of peace, but today he felt a slight tension - Fukase was in the next room.
Only recently did they decide to take their relationship to the next level, but this closeness still seemed unusual. Piko had already gotten used to their friendship, but how to act now that they were something more than friends? This question did not leave him alone.
Fukase entered the kitchen with a bag of groceries, as usual creating a small mess around himself. Piko turned at the sound of footsteps, his eyes lingering on Fukase longer than he himself realized. He quickly looked away, but it was too late - Fukase noticed his embarrassment.
"Hey," Fukase began, setting the bag down on the table. His voice was a little softer than usual, but there was still a hint of awkwardness in it. "Want to... cook something?"
Piko raised an eyebrow, shook his head slightly, and then made a chopping motion with his hand. Fukase frowned, not understanding at first, but then he realized.
"Oh, you want to help with the chopping?" he asked.
Piko nodded, raising his thumb in confirmation.
"Well, let's try," Fukase continued, grinning. "Just don't be too perfectionistic, okay?"
Piko responded with a quick clap of his hands, expressing agreement. He walked over to the cabinet, took out a knife and a cutting board, but before he began chopping, he glanced at Fukase, as if asking, "Where should I start?"
“Tomatoes and cucumbers,” Fukase pointed out, taking the vegetables out of the bag.
Piko nodded, picked up the tomato, and began carefully slicing it. His movements were rather slow, but after a few minutes, Fukase noticed his hand stop.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, coming closer.
Piko sighed and pointed to the knife, then raised index finger, as if to say, "I'm a little tired, just a minute."
Fukase nodded, taking over some of the work. They continued cooking together, occasionally exchanging glances or small gestures. Piko gave an "great" sign when Fukase successfully sliced the carrots, and Fukase bowed playfully in response, causing Piko to laugh silently.
When the salad was ready, they sat down at the table. Piko leaned back in his chair and made a circular motion with his hand, giving a thumbs up, indicating that he liked the food.
"Well, to be honest, it wasn't bad," Fukase said, smiling. "You can still cook if you want to." Piko frowned, then typed on the tablet next to him, "Did you see how slowly I cut?"
"It doesn't matter. The important thing is the result," Fukase said, helping himself to another helping.
They continued to eat in silence, but it wasn't the same tense silence as before. It was cozy, calm, as if they had truly found a rhythm together.
When dinner was over, Piko gestured to the sink, silently offering to wash the dishes. Fukase stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm washing today," he said. "You've done enough already."
Piko smiled, bowed slightly in gratitude, and then gestured to go into the living room.
Fukase watched him go. Despite the awkwardness of their new relationship, he felt like they were getting a little closer with each passing day.