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Maybe tuna isn’t the way to go after all. Even though it looks especially fresh and it would be a waste not to splurge on it a little bit. There’s quite an occasion for that. Osamu sighed exasperated and closed the tenth tab opened to look up what Argentinians eat for breakfast. He’s not a baker and even if he was, there's not enough time to whip up some medialunas from scratch right now.
“Miya-san? What can I get you? Today’s tuna looks beautiful.”
Osamu looked up from his phone to face the fisherman he visited every time he was shopping for himself at the market.
“Do you maybe know which fish are Argentinians fond of?”
Poor man’s face looked simply crestfallen at this random question. Well if the fisherman knew what situation he got himself into, totally unprepared, he would understand the desperation in his voice. Osamu simply needs to ace this test the world assigned him this morning. They both looked at each other not knowing what to make of the conversation. Osamu decided to spare the poor man and not involve him in his problems.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll be needing any fish after all. Have a good day.”
He bowed lower than usually as a silent apology to the fisherman.
Let’s start easy. The thing that was included in every article he scrolled through was orange juice. He needed oranges then, that should be easy. Maybe he should get some lemons while he’s at it. Make it fresh and sweet but with some tang. Yeah, his mood immediately got better with a tote bag half full of citruses. Does he have coffee at home? He’ll get some beans just in case, maybe even from the coffee shop on the way back home. He stocked up on milk last weekend, so there’s plenty at his place. His place – a studio apartment with a kitchen island almost the size of the bed. His bed at his place that Oikawa Tooru is currently sleeping in. Please god he must be sleeping still, let him sleep for at least an hour more. Osamu looks at his phone again to check time, he needs time more than air probably, and notifications in case Tooru woke up – which would mean he failed his test. It was the first time they agreed that Tooru would stay the night. They didn’t plan it in advance and Osamu was glad about it just yesterday. He thought he spared some nerves by deciding on the spot but it appears now that maybe he was high on some happy hormones just a couple of hours ago and couldn’t think straight. How is it that he didn’t think about how hard it is to prepare breakfast for someone for the first time!? The problem is that it isn’t just for someone, it’s for Tooru and so it has to be perfect. Goddammit Osamu’s a chef, if there’d ever be a chance for him to impress it stands before him right here, right now. And he’s nothing but clueless about how to get to it.
Okay let’s backtrack a little. He is a chef, he owns a restaurant, he’s got it covered. Lots of people eat their breakfast at Onigiri Miya. Tooru ate onigiri made by Osamu for breakfast before. But it was at the shop and he was mainly a customer back then. It’s not the same. He’s probably spiraling right now because he can’t recall a single dish or even a product Tooru is especially fond of. That man liked everything Osamu had prepared for him since they first met 6 months ago. Hell, he liked Osamu’s onigiri even before they met, Atsumu told him that. Atsumu. Good thing he’s got his brother’s number on the speed dial.
“Why aren’t ya pickin’ up, scrub? Aren’t ya on a mornin run or somethin’?” Oh god, he sounds crazy even to himself. They both let their accent get the better of them when speaking to each other but he sounds like their grandpa right now.
“Oi Samu, I am ya dumbass. That’s why I picked up after like 5 seconds. What’s the emergency? Are ya okay?” Atsumu must be out of breath or something because there’s less screaming than he expected.
“What do Argentinians eat for breakfast?” Osamu must be going stupid for real this time. But that must be Atsumu’s doing, he does that to everybody. Even Sakusa isn’t immune to that after all the time they spend together.
“Don’t answer that. I already know. And I don’t have enough time for that.”
“Okay.” Atsumu must have stopped or something, he sounds calmer now. Osamu envies him, what would he give up to calm down just a little bit right now. He takes a deep breath and sighs loudly in an attempt to do exactly that.
“I need to make breakfast in 30 minutes max. I’m at the market actually. On the menu for now I have some kind of coffee with milk and orange juice.”
There's a bit of silence after that.
“That’s it? Are ya on some kinda diet or what? And what’s the emergency? Ya don’t know what ta eat fer breakfast? Eat a fuckin onigiri at least Samu.”
Why has he called the most stupid person in the world in the moment of being his most stupid self?
“I’ll eat whatever. The emergency is that the breakfast is for Tooru. For Oikawa. And the fisherman had no idea what fish they usually eat in Argentina.”
Osamu won’t take all the blame on himself, the fisherman is in it too now. Atsumu is in it also, so there’s three of them now. He closes his eyes for a moment. To steady himself and to prepare for Atsumu laughing or some other exaggerated reaction to Osamu’s moment of weakness. He braces himself by unconsciously grabbing his phone even harder and putting it farther from his ear. Silence again, but not complete. Is Atsumu breathing that loudly or what, he puts his phone to his ear again.
“What?”
“Oikawa slept at your place?” Why is this dumbass whispering? It’s not like Tooru’s sleeping next to him and would wake up.
“Yeah. I mean I hope he’s still sleeping as we speak. I want him to wake up to breakfast already made. But I didn’t think it through before and I don’t have time to bake anything. What do you not understand? I need help in deciding what to make, stupid.”
Atsumu grumbles, sighs, makes another unintelligible noise, then sighs again and speaks at a normal volume this time.
“Ya’re the stupid one, Samu. Ya should be cuddlin' him right now. Poor Oikawa… or stupid, yeah probably stupid Oikawa. Ya’re both stupid. Make him Japanese breakfast and buy some good milk bread. If ya’d think for a minute straight ya’d come up with that yourself. Ya’re lucky we’re twins and I can think like ya would. Thank me later, scrub. You both make each other stupid. Call me when or if he leaves. Can’t believe ya’re at the freaking market, ya could be having morning sex with him! If not for the faces I wouldn’t believe we were…”
Osamu ended the call. He’s not the stupid one. He’s just stressed and desperately tries not to mess up this thing with Tooru. Oh god. What if Tooru gets angry when hungry? What if he wakes up alone, in Osamu’s bed, with nothing to eat. What if he wakes up hungry for something else, like Atsumu said… Okay, he doesn’t need that right now. Especially not to get even more sweaty and red in the face. Tuna is the way to go after all. He rushes through all the best stalls at the market. Starting with the fish because it really looked exceptional, some mackerel won’t hurt too, it’s always better to have options. Eggs are a must, tamagoyaki for more protein. Rice, there’s plenty at home, picked up from Kita-san’s last week. Natto from that one lady, who usually has a great selection of pickled vegetables, he’ll get some too. Miso is secured, there won’t be a better time to open the last jar of the batch granny made last year. Tooru deserves only the best. With two full tote bags and pockets of his sweatpants almost ripping at the stitches from the jars he stuck in there it’s quite difficult to move. But there is only one more thing left on the shopping list. Why milk bread though? There’s too many questions and not enough answers. He won’t be thinking about it now. The café he was meant to pick some coffee beans at should have some nice quality milk bread too. And with that he will provide some kind of sweet pastry at the end.
After toeing off his shoes, sweaty bangs plastered to his forehead from all the running, Osamu tried to move to the kitchen as silently as possible with heaps of groceries threatening to fall with each step. He almost made it to the kitchen island when his phone started vibrating. It must be Atsumu, so nosy that he can’t even wait more than 15 minutes for an update. And then the plan not to wake Tooru up most probably crumbles the moment his phone starts ringing at a full volume.
“Samu-chan?” He hears on the other line even though he hasn’t even picked up the call yet. Tooru is officially awake, then. Fuck.
Hastily, Osamu throws all the shopping bags on the counter and pulls jar after jar from his pockets to find the damn phone. He feels so defeated already. His dumb brother was right for the first time in their shared lifetime. It was so stupid of him to believe that he has time not only to cook breakfast but to also go grocery shopping before Tooru wakes up. Oikawa Tooru, a star athlete, who usually by this time has already completed a workout, a modelling job and a press conference. On top of it all, Osamu can’t find the phone that has already stopped ringing. He buries his head in one of the still full tote bags and slumps down on the barstool.
“Samu-chan, are you okay? What happened?” He heard a few footsteps before he felt a warm hand set on his back gently.
“I’m so sorry, Tooru. I messed up.” He grumbles, face still down, not yet ready to look Tooru in the eyes, too scared to see disappointment in them. The big, brown, doe eyes, he won’t ever have the chance to look at again without remembering his awful, awful failed attempt at making a simple breakfast in bed. Wait a second. He hasn’t even made an attempt at actually preparing the food yet. And as the saying goes – the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. It might be time for brunch at this point which is rather a disadvantage, but on the other hand it must mean that Tooru is starving. He still has a chance to prove that he really cares and whip up a killer meal. Or more of a lover's meal. Actually, let it be an official boyfriend type of meal. With new resolve and hands tingling, ready to get to work he knows well and feels confident in, he straightens his back and stands back on his feet. With the movement being a bit too sudden, he instinctively grabs for the closest thing to steady himself. He ends up squeezing Tooru’s shoulders, face to face with the man’s worried gaze.
“Breakfast?” Osamu blurts, already searching for the answer in Tooru’s eyes. When he’s met with something akin hesitation, he decides for the both of them.
“I’m making breakfast. You were supposed to be still in bed for it, but don’t worry. We’ll make it work. Sit and relax, now.” He takes advantage of the position they’re still in and pushes down on Tooru’s shoulders to make him comply. Surprisingly, he goes down easily. Usually he likes a bit of a push and pull, but he’s probably weakened by his empty stomach.
Osamu pulls up his sleeves and starts on prep, he wants to be quick but the food has to be perfect at the same time so he really needs to focus. He’s so in the zone he startles while whisking the eggs, when he hears a breathy laugh behind his back. Oh, what he would give to see Tooru’s face light up with laughter. But he can’t spare a second now unfortunately. He has to make up for being late already and be as efficient as possible.
“I can go back to bed if I’m ruining your plan to romance me first thing in the morning.” Tooru says with an obvious teasing undertone in his voice.
Osamu turns only his head sideways, right hand keeps whisking, eyes focused on the task.
“I’m really sorry for that. I’ll make it up to you, just give me 20 more minutes. I can make it 10 if you’re okay with leftover rice, but I’d rather wait for the fresh one to cook.” He twists his torso a bit to gauge Tooru's reaction. He feels that his brows are furrowed, whether with lingering worry or because he’s so focused doesn’t really matter. Either way he tries to school his expression before almost facing Tooru again. The sight makes his heart skip and brain short-circuit. Right behind his back the most beautiful man sits completely relaxed, a small smile dances on his lips, there’s a glint to his eyes which seem to watch Osamu carefully, tracking each miniscule movement he makes. He felt his mouth open, not that he was about to say something, he was stunned by the perfection that is Oikawa Tooru in his morning glory, sitting by his kitchen island.
“I can wait.” After a bit Tooru laughs at himself. “I can’t wait actually, but take your time. I like watching you work.”
That makes Osamu blush, he feels the tips of his ears getting hot, so to save his face, he turns back fully towards the kitchen counter. Maybe cooking wasn’t a good idea to begin with. With Tooru watching, being so close that Osamu can actually hear his breath in the general silence of the apartment, doing anything that requires holding a knife becomes a real danger. Osamu can’t trust himself to stay focused, especially when Tooru’s flirty remarks may be aimed at him anytime.
“I love seeing your back. Cooking shirtless is dangerous, so maybe we can get in a nice viewing position for me later, hm?” Tooru literally sing-songs those words as Osamu turns the fish around on the grill and burns his finger lightly on the rack.
Perfect, he won’t even survive long enough to serve breakfast. He will either kill himself by accident or end up dead by Tooru’s sinful mouth. He needs to shut him up somehow. As soon as the meal is ready it won’t be difficult. Usually Tooru eats so deliciously, fully absorbed in the food Osamu makes that he’s only capable of little gasps and appreciative humming sounds. Osamu loves watching him eat so he will not deprive himself of this pleasure now, when he needs to focus on cooking. Also it’s probably not the best for an athlete to snack before a proper meal. Nothing comes to mind, especially when it’s all occupied either by the next step to make the best Japanese breakfast he’s capable of, or by Tooru. Who hasn’t said anything in a while, right? The fish is almost done on both sides, so Osamu tries to peek behind himself. He is still being watched but the air around them has shifted in a way he doesn’t have time to interpret. Tooru seems simultaneously lost in his mind and laser focused on Osamu. He realizes that his back probably obscures what’s happening in the kitchen.
“Oh, I’m almost done. Miso soup is almost ready, fish’s the same, I’ll get to frying tamagoyaki now, rice needs 2 minutes max. I bought natto and some pickles at the market, I just need to…”
“I’ll plate them. Should I boil some water for the tea?” Tooru interrupted and without waiting for Osamu to respond, got to work.
He moved efficiently and with confidence of someone feeling at home. He knew where the tea was, after plating the side dishes he put the jars on the correct fridge shelf without having to ask. The kitchen island quickly filled with everything that they needed to eat, with space saved for the main dishes to come. Osamu’s favourite cup steaming with freshly brewed tea. He brought everything missing to the table and sat down. At the end, the breakfast looked and smelled amazing. His eyes searched Tooru’s once again to see his reaction.
“I’m sorry for messing with you earlier. Let’s eat now. You’ve put your heart in it, right?”
“Yeah.” Osamu says without thinking. A moment passes when neither of them seems to know how to progress. He breaks the silence first. “I can’t wait to watch you eat, I hope you’ll like it”.
And that seems to be a good thing to say because Tooru’s face lights up again.
“I know I will.”
“Would you like some coffee now?” Osamu felt so much more relaxed now that he knew Tooru had a full stomach and taste buds buzzing from all the delicacies they have just shared. Tooru seemed to take a second to consider the offer.
“Oh, I almost forgot. There’s something sweet for you too. It should go well with the coffee if you’re up for that.” Osamu watched the man before him smile at that instantly.
“Yes, please. You should know at this point that I’m not fully satisfied until I have dessert.” Osamu felt his cheeks heating up at the innuendo. Well, considering the time they finally went to sleep yesterday, he really should have known. Luckily he had to walk up to the kitchen counter to retrieve the milk bread from the bottom of the shopping bag. He took a deep breath and steadied himself for the thousandth time since he woke up seeing Tooru’s face first thing in the morning. He is no longer a highschooler, he was in a committed relationship before. Why does one remark from this man make him so hot and bothered? After he put the moka pot on the stove he brought the sweet treat to the table and without thinking much unwrapped it from the paper packaging. He looked at Tooru again to gauge his reaction. It wasn’t what he expected to be fully honest. There was a surprised gasp waiting to be let out from Tooru’s full lips. Oh, there is a small piece of rice stuck to its corner. There’s also enlarged pupils and slightly raised eyebrows. Even the grimace does not stand a chance to mar Tooru’s beauty, though. And in a second all the signs of surprise vanish.
“Osamu. You said you haven’t heard of me in high school.” Tooru said, looking him straight in the eye while greedily ripping a small part of the pastry and putting it in his mouth. With elegant fingers and a small smile he’s mesmerizing. His bed hair makes him look younger, boyish, oh Osamu would be a dead man by now if they knew each other in high school. His poor heart, already bursting with teenage hormones, would combust the second Tooru’s intense attention would be directed at him. Maybe if they met in elementary school, it would be different. They would know each other forever, then. It would be a dream come true – to be important in Tooru’s life from the beginning. That’s impossible unfortunately. But what’s at stake now is to share the life they still have ahead of them. To spend every waking moment in his presence. To fill his thoughts, his heart, or more realistically even just his stomach. This want overflows Osamu’s whole being. He cannot look away, he’s enchanted. Tooru waits for something, he realizes. The man licks his mouth, getting on his tongue both crumbs of the milk bread and the leftover rice grain. Of course. That’s what it means. Osamu leans in, cradles Tooru’s cheek in his palm, has a second to smile, to close his eyes, and their lips meet in a kiss. A peck, actually. It feels so domestic, gazing into each other’s eyes and kissing over breakfast. Maybe Osamu can have him in his life forever.
“So?” Tooru asked while putting his palm over Osamu’s one. He put another piece of milk bread in his smiling mouth.
“I wish everyday looked like that.” He leaned in again acting on instinct. But Tooru moved away from him. He searched for his eyes, they were wide open again. Was something wrong? Osamu panicked but only for a second. He knows what it is about and he is known for never making the same mistake twice.
“But next time I won’t leave you in bed alone. Or I will, but only for some short time, you know, to make breakfast. So you can actually eat it in bed.”
Tooru stared at him more. He wasn’t even ripping another piece of milk bread and yet his mouth was open and ready for it. As if he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Oikawa Tooru rendered speechless. Who would have known Osamu was such a smooth talker? He smiled even wider, encouraged by this thought.
“Or maybe I’ll have my fill of you first.” He put his palm on Tooru’s bare thigh this time. He squeezed it a bit. Oh fuck. He forgot it completely.
“Tooru. I promise I’ll perfect it by the next time. There was supposed to be orange juice. Freshly squeezed.” Unconsciously he grasped a handful of Tooru’s thigh again. “I can still make it if you’d like. Actually I can make everything you want. I’ll learn how to make medialunas.” He opened his mouth to make another promise but his breath was stolen away.
Tooru was kissing him. Grabbing for him desperately, it was messy because their lips didn’t seem to fit in the haste. Osamu felt sweetness on his tongue and breath on his cheek. Before he could open his eyes as they finally separated, Tooru started laughing while hiding his face in the crook of Osamu’s neck. To say that it was contagious would be a great understatement. Osamu felt his own smile growing on its own.
“What?” He asked a bit timidly, still holding Tooru close.
“Medialunas? You’re unbelievable.” He chuckled and kissed Osamu one more time.
“I’m asking you how did you know that I’m fond of milk bread to which your response is to proposition me with sex. And then promising to make me anything I want for breakfast. You’re trying really hard to make me stay in your bed, hm? Aren’t we a bit desperate Samu-chan?”
Osamu felt like on the market again. Confused, panicked and sweaty under his armpits. But he couldn’t afford overthinking now. What got him here was putting genuine care and effort into his actions towards Tooru. And not doubting himself.
“I am desperate, Tooru. I want you. I want this to work out. Let me try my best for you, okay?”.
Tooru took a breath to respond but the sound of coffee bubbling over the stove interrupted him. Before Osamu could react, Tooru moved. He started taking care of the moka pot giving them both a moment. Is Osamu being too intense? He might have poured his heart out a bit and overwhelmed Tooru. Looking at the man’s slender back and long, bare legs doesn’t help getting his heart in check. He watches silently as Tooru fills two small cups with coffee and then hesitates for a moment before pouring some milk in one of them. Bony fingers with meticulously filled nails grab the black coffee cup delicately and Tooru shows him his face again. But he’s looking at his own hand as he puts the hot drink in front of Osamu.
“Osamu.” He says but it sounds like a question. Their eyes finally meet again and Osamu realizes that he really is desperate for Oikawa Tooru. “You drink your coffee black, right? Tell me if not. I want to get it right. I am also trying my best for you. Weren’t my intentions clear enough?”
As he says that he looks down on Osamu. He seems to be getting more confident with each word, though. Letting his mouth curl in a small smile and his fingers move to rest on Osamu’s ones rather than the coffee cup. His eyes are intense, pupils dilated, irises shining, eyelashes still slightly crusty from sleep. He feels Tooru caress his ring finger.
“I want you, Samu-chan. For as long as you’ll have me. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Preferably with some sweet treats in between.”
Osamu stands up so quickly, his vision goes blurry for a second. A fleeting thought that he might be anemic crosses his mind. Almost blindly he takes both of Tooru’s hands in his, ready to do who knows what. Maybe to turn the man in front of him into a dessert after all. Most probably to confess something like his undying love, though. Which might sound crazy but only for someone who wasn’t blessed with a chance to experience Oikawa Tooru. Mouth open, lungs full and tongue ready to speak his heart, he searches for Tooru’s eyes and to his surprise they are already locked on him, crinkled at the corners and so bright. And Osamu’s speechless again, but his mouth is occupied with a different task for at least a minute.
“Stop being cute or the coffee will go completely cold. I can’t be kissing you and drinking at the same time.”
Tooru said it while still being so close that Osamu could feel the air brushing his lips. As Tooru was taking a step away, his hands moved down to grab at his waist instead.
“I want to have milk bread with coffee now, and you later. Does that sound good?”
Osamu felt his sides squeezed and smoothed down a second later. He couldn’t help himself so he quickly kissed Tooru again before sitting back down.
“Yes to it all. I drink my coffee black, let’s have it now and go back to bed after that.”
“And are my intentions clear or should I spell it out for you, Osamu?”
They were both sitting down again, each of them holding a cup of coffee. Plans for the early afternoon have already been agreed on.
“I think we want the same, Tooru.”