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Real talk? Gen knows how to fry an egg. It's not rocket science and it's certainly not something that he hasn't done hundreds, if not thousands of times before. That being said, he'll never tell Reno that he knows the most basic culinary technique of all time.
Why?
Because whenever Reno makes breakfast, he puts two fried eggs and a slice of bacon on a plate to form a smiley face. That's fucking adorable. Ever since Reno moved in a few months ago, Gen's been so charmed by Reno's home-y, almost familial style of cooking that he's resigned himself - the Narumi Gen, strongest Defense Force officer of all time - to permanent dishwashing duty.
He likes to think that he's earned this small bit of domestic bliss after surviving, you know, all of the horrors.
Unfortunately, the gods have decided to test Gen out of the blue on a random Sunday morning because fuck him and his happy eggs.
“Babe? Can you come here for a minute?” Reno calls out from his place at the stove. He's wearing nothing but a frilly blue apron that’s practically see-through, which is exactly how Gen likes it, so of course he does as he's told. “I wanna teach you something.”
“If you're gonna walk around looking like that, then whatever it is you have to teach me can be taken to the bedroom, no?”
Reno rolls his eyes, but a smirk plays on his lips. “If you're a good student, then maybe later we can continue our lessons there.”
Luckily for Gen, he’s always been a quick study, especially with a reward dangling so close in front of him.
On the counter, Reno has their new frying pan, some oil, and a half full carton of eggs lined up in single file. Immediately, Gen does not like where this is going.
“This is already looking too complicated for me, babe.”
“Oh, come on. You should know how to fry an egg. What are you going to do if I'm away on a mission and can't make you breakfast?”
“Starve.”
“See, that's what we're trying to avoid. Starving is bad for you. You know that, right?” Reno leans in to kiss Gen on the cheek and Gen can't help but once again be utterly charmed by him and his genuine affection. It’s not something Gen’s used to, but he is quickly getting addicted. Damn it. Reno makes it so hard to say no to him. “It'll make me feel better to know that you'll be taken care of when I'm not around.”
“How about you just never leave? That solves everything.”
“I would have to quit the Defense Force for that to happen.”
Gen comes up behind Reno and wraps his arms around his waist, burying his face in the crook of Reno's neck. “Is that so bad? Stay here so I know where you are at all times and never have to worry.”
Reno clicks his tongue and reaches up to run his fingers through Gen's bangs. “Someone's getting spoiled.”
“Not spoiled enough,” Gen mutters. And it's completely true - Reno should spoil him much, much more than he already does. For instance, he should give up this egg lecture and give Gen a different kind of breakfast back in their room.
“Of course you'd think that,” Reno chuckles. “Come on, let's see you make breakfast. The Narumi Gen I know can do anything, so this should be a piece of cake.”
How clever. Reno is stroking Gen's ego with that line, obviously trying to bait Gen into proving him right, but Gen has been seeing a particularly merciless therapist lately who has trained him out of such reactions. Kind of. Barely. Just by the skin of his teeth.
It's a struggle for Gen to not show off his mastery of the bare minimum, but alas he perseveres.
“Okay, okay, fine,” he replies, setting the pan on the stove and heating up some oil until it glides across the nonstick surface with ease. “Prepare to be impressed.”
“I'm always prepared to be impressed by you. You're the most amazing man I know.”
Ah, there it is again. That stroke to his ego like a tickle down his spine. It's so, so tempting and Reno knows it.
Before Gen can do the mentally stable thing and cook an egg as God intended, he instead takes an egg, shell intact, and plops it onto the pan whole with reckless abandon. For good measure, he even covers the pan with the lid.
Reno stares wide-eyed at the pan for longer than Gen accounted for, which he takes as a good sign. “Why did you-”
“To cook it.”
“But you have to-”
“It'll cook.”
“Babe,” Reno says, finally looking at him with unblinking eyes. “You have to crack the egg first.”
“You can crack it after it's cooked.”
“Gen. Babe. My love. No.”
On the stove, they can hear the egg moving around under the lid, the oil beneath it crackling in a way that it probably shouldn't be.
Gen crosses his arms over his chest, smug. “See? It's cooking.”
Reno gives him a questioning look that Gen recognizes as a glitch in the matrix and sighs. “I- Okay, yeah. Yeah. Um- Have you considered cereal?”
Honestly, Gen's not a huge fan of cereal. It gets too soggy too quickly and there's not enough sugar in the world to justify that level of mush. However, Gen can see each defined curve of Reno's muscles beneath the thin fabric of his apron and, to no one's surprise, pressure is building rapidly in his cock, so he has no choice but to take one for the team. “If you teach me how to make cereal, can we go back to bed?”
Reno turns off the stove before the burnt egg blows up and sets their apartment on fire, or whatever it is that scorned eggs do. “If you do a good job of it, then yes.”
Gen smirks and is already pulling his shirt off over his head. “In that case, babe, prepare to be so impressed with me.”