Work Text:
Souta’s wings beat behind him like an anxious hummingbird’s, holding him up over the stove where a pot of green liquid bubbled ominously. Luckily, the color was mostly derived from seaweed, meaning it didn’t taste as unappetizing as it looked. Using just a finger, Souta compelled a wooden spoon to stir the mixture thoroughly, turning the herbs and mushrooms for him so that he could focus on gathering the petals off of the flowers resting on the counter.
Once he’d gathered enough, he tossed the petals of the hime sayuri into a miniature mortar, the one that Nao had gifted Souta for his birthday, the one with powerful characters carved into the side to enhance his spells. He grabbed the little matching pestle off of the counter and began grinding up the petals until they formed a fine pink paste. Just as he finished, the rice cooker beeped, and he fluttered over to pop the lid.
He used his whole body to grab the rice paddle and load a serving of rice into a bowl twice the size of his own body. Then, he set the paddle aside and grabbed a second, smaller bowl, and loaded a few grains of rice into it for himself. He set it beside the larger portion, and preened at how perfect they looked next to each other; the credit went to Nao for custom ordering the matching set for their last anniversary.
Returning his attention to the stove, Souta floated the spoon out of the mixture. He severed their connection and it clattered down onto the counter top. Then, he fluttered over to bodily turn off the stove, pulling the dial while flapping his wings in reverse, until it clicked, the sound just shy of too loud in his ears. As the mixture in the pot began to settle, Souta touched down on the countertop next to the bowls.
Bracing his arms out in front of him, he willed the pot to rise. He had to put all his concentration into the effort, as metal was much harder to connect with than wood. Still, it hummed in response to his magic and followed his direction, hovering over Nao’s bowl. He focused on getting the pot to turn slowly, so that it poured the soup in a perfect arc, right over the rice. Finely diced enoki settled on top, while the herbs and broth drained to the bottom of the bowl. The pot was nearly empty when Souta poured himself a serving. Though, he misjudged the volume a tad and ended up filling his own bowl nearly to the brim.
As he set the pot down and let his connection to it recede, a heavy sigh escaped him. He fluttered his wings and stretched his arms above his head to work out the strain that concentrating so hard put on his muscles. He couldn’t relax completely, though. He still had to garnish the dish.
He grabbed the wasabi paste from where he’d set it out on the counter and squeezed a good portion of it into a mixing bowl. Then, using a little spoon, he scooped the mash of petals out of the mortar and began mixing it into the wasabi. His sinuses stung by the time he was finished, and he was relieved that it was the last step in his cooking process. He scooped a tiny bit of the mixture out onto his rice, then scraped the rest of it on top of Nao’s meal, like Souta knew he would enjoy.
With the meal finished, Souta floated up high into the air to examine it. He suddenly felt rather bashful that his presentation skills were so sloppy, but he knew Nao wouldn’t judge him for it.
It only took a gentle touch to the wood of Nao’s bowl for Souta to float it across the kitchen. He quickly grabbed his own bowl and chased after it, on course towards the dining room.
Nao was seated at the table, tapping his chopsticks on the surface anxiously. It was natural that he’d worry, given that Souta had never cooked a meal by himself before. Still, Souta had to suppress an eyeroll.
“You kept your promise,” Souta teased as he set the food down in front of Nao. The candles glimmering at the corner of the table cast Nao’s face in their elegant glow, making him look radiant. Souta only hoped he didn’t look like a sweaty mess in comparison.
“You didn’t burn the house down,” Nao replied, a smirk pulling at his lips. Souta didn’t hold himself back from darting forward to kiss that snarky smile off his face. Pulling back only revealed a broader smile in its place. “You’re so cute.”
“I am not!”
Nao shrugged. He glanced down at the meal then, avoiding any back and forth by saying, “So this is it, then?”
“I mean, the rice and wasabi were my contributions to the spell, but yes.”
“You’re sure that won’t mess it up?”
Souta had the urge to thump Nao on the forehead. Instead he fluttered back to his cushion and sat down cross-legged. “Can you trust me, just this once?”
“I trusted you to cook it, didn’t I?”
“Fine! Trust me just this twice!”
“That makes no sense.”
“Stop ruining our anniversary.”
“Our anniversary is tomorrow.”
“And now we don’t have to spend our anniversary in agonizing pain!” Souta said, his wings flipping up to emphasize his point, before they folded back down against his back. “You're welcome.”
“Thanks,” Nao said, letting his sarcasm leach out in his tone.
Despite his feigned indignance, Souta was happy to continue the routine. He knew how nervous Nao was about this whole ordeal. It was especially obvious in the way Nao eyed his bowl.
“Okay,” Souta began, picking up his chopsticks. “You have to eat all of it. You promise?”
Nao looked even more nervous at that.
“Just promise!” Souta yelled. “Even if it tastes bad!”
With that, Nao looked slightly more relieved, if not reasonably more disgusted. He sighed. “Okay. I promise.”
“Good.” Souta nodded. He used his chopsticks to cut a grain of the rice in his bowl in half, then stuffed it messily into his mouth without hesitation.
It wasn’t bad by any means, given that it mostly just tasted like rice. He lifted the bowl to try some of the broth and came up for air with a pleased hum. It tasted herbal and a lot like seaweed, but it was also distinctly salty and had a kick Souta knew Nao would love. Nao, who had clearly been watching Souta the whole time, put on a mask of indifference that Souta saw right through.
“Wow. I. Am. Good.” Souta beamed. “Who knew I was such a great cook?”
Nao snorted, picking up his own chopsticks. “All you had to do was follow a recipe.”
“Rude.”
Hesitantly, Nao picked up a clump of rice. The herbs Souta had used in the broth clung to the grains as Nao examined the bite. Then, he brought it to his mouth. He chewed it for a second before swallowing, then flit a glance to Souta.
“Mm,” Nao hummed softly. He followed Souta’s example and took a sip of the broth. He ate a few more bites in silence, which Souta allowed only for a few minutes.
“Good?”
Nao nodded, avoiding Souta’s eyes. “Good.”
They ate the rest of their meal in quiet companionship, with Souta occasionally throwing out commentary on how he’d prepared the dish. It wasn’t long before they were finished and Nao could dart into the kitchen to examine the state of things. Souta sat back, full to bursting, and let Nao fuss over the mess.
It wasn’t until they’d settled into bed for the night that the cramps started.
Souta was laying on Nao’s pillow, snuffling softly into Nao’s hair with a little quilt wrapped around himself, when Nao let out a low groan of pain. Groggily, Souta climbed Nao’s locks and brushed aside his hair, planting soft kisses on Nao’s sweat-soaked forehead. Souta’s own cramps started soon after. He maintained a strong facade for as long as he could, which ended up not being that long, in the grand scheme of things.
It felt like the inside of Souta’s body was being carved out of him like a pumpkin. It was a wonder he didn’t puke his guts out. Nao wasn’t so lucky; he leaned over the side of the bed and emptied his stomach into the trashcan that they’d at least had the foresight to leave there before the pair went to bed. Souta tried to comfort him as best he could, but in his duress, all he could do was cling to Nao’s collar and whimper softly into the skin of Nao’s neck.
When Nao flopped back to the bed, he reached up, hand shaking as it hovered above Souta’s form. Souta knew exactly what Nao wanted and fluttered up to meet Nao’s hand, crashing into his palm. Nao let his hand, and Souta with it, fall to the mattress. There, Souta held onto Nao’s ring finger for dear life.
The change started so gradually, Souta barely even registered it was happening, at least until he was too big to fit into Nao’s palm any longer. He adjusted himself on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position where he could still grasp onto Nao’s hand.
Nao himself was shrinking. He chased after the feeling of Souta growing in his palm, hand sliding up the sweat slick skin of Souta’s forearm until their hands aligned. For one perfect moment, they were exactly the same size. Nao twined his fingers through Souta’s and squeezed his eyes shut, memorizing the feel of Souta’s warm palm.
Then, more rapidly than before, Souta’s began to encompass his whole body, until eventually, he was curled up in the fetal position, laying in the cup of Souta’s hand. Souta’s breathing painted heavy strokes against Nao’s skin, and Nao could feel the thrum of Souta’s heartbeat like it was his own.
Nao blinked a few times as the pain subsided. When he gathered his bearings enough to look up, he found Souta staring down at him, awe and reverence in his gaze. Nao, for his part, looked at Souta like one would watch the stars in an observatory, as if the whole universe stretched out before his very eyes.
⭒˚☆.⋆
Nao was splayed out on Souta’s broad chest when the light of the morning sun cast through the windows into his eyes the next morning. Souta was still fast asleep, his steady breathing lifting Nao up and down in a soothing pattern. It was so comforting, Nao almost tucked his head back down and let himself doze to the beat of Souta’s heart.
Instead, he got his bearings. It took him a bit to figure out how to walk on Souta’s skin, especially while his chest was moving. With some trial and error (read: falling flat on his face), he managed to clamber down Souta’s arm and over to the nightstand.
The first thing he did was put on Souta’s ring, where they’d left it inside the circle of Nao’s own band. It was a perfect fit, just like Souta said it would be. Resting beside the rings was a pile of clothes that they’d picked out for Nao to wear. The outfit was incredibly comfortable, exactly what Nao needed after spending the night writhing in pain.
He was contemplating scaling down the nightstand so he could go to the bathroom when Souta rustled around in the sheets. Nao glanced over and couldn’t help but stare. Souta had just woken up, but his eyes were still closed. He stretched his wings out behind him and they caught the sunlight in their path, casting every surface around them in an iridescent gleam. His mop of orange hair was mussed from sleep and sweat, pooling down over his forehead in a way that made Nao want to brush it back and plant a kiss there. Everything about Souta was so much more detailed than Nao had ever noticed before, and Nao would’ve been happy just mapping out the lines of Souta’s face for hours.
Then Souta opened his eyes.
The smile that spread on his face took Nao’s breath away. He gaped, mouth open wide around a string of words that failed to materialize.
“Good morning, love,” Souta said and Nao melted. Nao rushed to the edge of the night stand and held his arms out, silently pleading for Souta to pick him up. Souta’s smile only grew brighter, then. He complied easily with Nao’s whim, holding out his hand to pick Nao up like one would a delicate flower.
When Nao reached Souta’s face, he pushed himself along the skin of Souta’s cheek until Souta maneuvered Nao into place for a kiss. It was like nothing Nao had ever experienced before, a bit awkward and clumsy, but so perfect that it sent chills down to Nao’s toes. Souta hummed into the kiss before pulling away, much to Nao’s dismay.
“I love you,” Nao whispered in the space between their lips. He looked up into Souta’s eyes and knew that Souta had heard him loud and clear.
When Souta pulled his hand back, Nao settled comfortably into his palm, leaning back against his fingers before realizing something was missing.
“Your ring,” Nao said, touching the pale band of Souta’s finger.
“Technically, it’s your ring,” Souta said, a cheeky grin on his face. Nao gave him an unamused look and used his hand to pinch Souta’s finger. “Ow! Hey! I nearly threw you!”
“You’d better catch me if you do, cause I’m not dying like this.”
Souta paused at that. “Do you… do you not like it?”
Nao raised his brows, realizing belatedly that the look on Souta’s face was anxiety. He leaned his head against Souta’s finger and closed his eyes, listening for the sound of Souta’s heart. Then, he started to drum his hand against Souta’s palm in time with the rhythm.
“I’m happy,” Nao said finally, opening his eyes. Souta looked at him like the fate of the world hung on his very words. “I love seeing you like this, being with you like this… it makes me happy.”
Between one second and the next, Souta’s face shifted and he started to cry. Nao leapt up trying to reach out to stop the tears from falling and being unable to reach.
“Sunshine? What’s wrong?”
“I was so scared that you hated it!” Souta sobbed, tears streaking down his cheeks. He wiped at them with his free hand but they kept falling. “I’m sorry!”
“I don’t hate it.” Nao kissed the pad of Souta’s thumb. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”
Souta sniffled a few times, wiping away the tears for a minute or so before they finally stopped. He looked down at Nao with red rimmed eyes and all Nao could see was the love of his life.
“You’ve still got to put it on,” Nao said, gesturing to the nightstand. “I want everyone to know that this handsome fairy is taken.”
Souta huffed a laugh, soft and tired, but he complied. When the ring was secure around Souta’s finger, Nao approached it, rubbing his hands against the band and tugging it down to make sure it was snug. Souta chuckled behind him, to which Nao responded with a glare and another harsh tug.
“Fuck, I love you, Nao,” Souta said, breathless.
Nao smiled, a fondness on his little face that was just for the two of them. “I love you, Souta.”