Work Text:
“Hey! Cut that out!”
“Ssshhh! You’ll wake her up!”
“Well maybe if someone stopped trying to shove a whisk in my face, we can actually finish this before she does.”
“Alright, alright.” Akira sighs and returns to mixing the batter, while Goro resumes piping the flowers around the pin. Despite his earlier inexperience, he’s grown used to this over the years, now handling buttercream frosting as easily as he does a knife. “You’re such a grouch, I swear.”
Goro scoffs. “As if you’re not responsible. Remind me why we keep doing this at four in the morning, again?”
Akira ladles the brown batter into lined cups, filling each halfway. He leans over to give Goro a kiss on the cheek, which he pretends not to notice. “Because Sumi has to coach her team at eight, and I know you want to braid her hair before she leaves, and we have to give her cake, and–”
“Fine, yes, okay.” His cheeks grow warm. “I love her, and I want her to be happy on her birthday. Satisfied?” All he gets is a snicker in response. He sets aside a finished frosting violet, picking up a new pin and turning it to inspect the best angle to begin piping. “You also haven’t made any espresso yet.”
“Aww, poor baby needs his coffee.” A blast of hot air fills the kitchen as Akira stoops to open the oven, sliding in two trays. Draping the towel over the handle, he picks up his phone and clicks a button to set a silent alarm. “I can do that… now.”
“Perfect.” It’s blessedly quiet for a little bit, nothing except the low hum of the oven and Akira fiddling around with the espresso machine and all its fancy levers and knobs. Goro takes the opportunity to pipe a few more flowers, mentally noting how many more he has to make so each cupcake gets at least one, plus a couple of leaves.
He’s finishing up the last few when a small glass appears in his periphery, along with an arm sliding around his back. “One espresso, as ordered,” Akira jokes softly.
Distracted by the curl of the frosting, Goro leans over to peck him on the cheek. “Thanks, honey.” Just a couple more petals, and he’ll be done. Then he can get to actually piping the cakes and adding them in.
He feels more than sees that mop of black hair bury itself in his shoulder, heated skin meeting his collar. “Mmm, what did I do to deserve a ‘honey’ this early in the morning, huh?”
“Made sure I don’t kill you in your sleep tonight by depriving me of caffeine until Sumire wakes up?”
“Ah, makes sense.” Setting aside the last pin, Goro finally turns, meeting him in a chaste kiss and slipping his hands underneath Akira’s shirt, cool metal meeting his warm side from Goro’s left hand. It’s gentle, sweet, too early and too tired for anything more, and they sway slowly in front of the kitchen table, enjoying the moment. Akira’s just leaning into it when his phone gives a soft bzzz from where it’s lying on the counter. Goro groans.
“Almost done.” Akira breaks away to smile at him. Goro pulls his hands out, smooths over the wrinkle under his eye with a thumb.
“Almost,” he agrees. He picks up his espresso glass while Akira turns back to the oven, taking a small sip, enjoying the warmth and the rich flavor before the caffeine overtakes it all. Out come two trays of beautifully fluffy chocolate cupcakes wrapped in red, which Akira swiftly places inside their fridge.
Goro knows from experience that if he tries to frost them now, they’ll melt and come out looking worse than the very first time he tried to frost something (incidentally, that meltdown was the very second time he had tried to frost something) so he drinks his coffee and heads out to the living room while Akira fixes his own cup.
He lingers behind the couch, staring absently at their photo wall.
There have been some new additions recently, like Sumi surrounded by her team at the most recent regional meet, all of them lifting her into the air while she’s wide-eyed in shock. The picture she took of Goro on their anniversary with sauce in the corner of his mouth, laughing at Akira’s poor attempt at imitating the chef at the restaurant. All the Thieves gathered together in Leblanc like old times, celebrating Ryuji’s daughter’s graduation from elementary school. Some old ones too, like a polaroid of their last trip to Okinawa a few years ago, and Goro’s promotion to the regional manager for all of the social workers in the prefecture.
And in the center of it all, their wedding photo– Akira in his striking red suit, Goro in black, and Sumire looking as beautiful as she always does, perhaps even more so in her stunning white dress and veil, holding hands with both of them and beaming through her happy tears into the camera.
It’s been nearly a decade since he’s willingly picked up a sword, much of that spent working through his violent tendencies with a therapist. But he knows, if it came down to it, that he’d do anything to keep them smiling like that forever.
Akira peeks his head around the corner, smiles when he sees Goro in front of the pictures. “Come on, sweetheart,” he calls quietly. “Let’s get these ready for her.”
Goro finishes the last of his coffee, swallowing it along with the fresh lump in his throat, and nods, trailing him back into the kitchen. Akira seems to know what he’s thinking, as he always does, rubbing him on the back gently as Goro picks up another piping bag full of green frosting.
They work together in silence, Goro adding the grass, Akira picking up the finished flowers and arranging them delicately on top. He notes that his own mug is missing; Akira must have drank his own coffee while waiting for the cupcakes to cool, giving Goro some time to himself.
To be known so deeply that Akira can recognize what he needs, even without having to voice it or even look at him– it clenches his heart briefly, overpowered by emotion. He shakes his head a little, focusing on making the grass look perfect, instead of like overgrown weeds.
Akira leans into his right side, a warm, grounding pressure. “Good, bad, or somewhere in between?” He doesn’t take his eyes off his own work, placing a marzipan bee on one of the violets with a dot of black frosting.
Goro doesn’t think their sliding scale will work for the sheer enormity of what he’s feeling, so he avoids answering altogether. When he next speaks, his voice is more raw than he’d like.
“Do you think she’ll like it?”
“Oh, Goro,” and he looks at Akira, who’s gazing at him with such love in his eyes that it nearly takes his breath away, no matter how many times he sees it. “She’ll love it.”
His adoring, knowing gaze settles around Goro’s shoulders like a warm blanket. “Mm,” is all he says in response. And they return to frosting.
It’s a comfortable sort of quiet, as they finish the cupcakes and set about making coffee and tamagoyaki. Sumi has a long day ahead of her, and Goro’s glad he can finally make something she likes without burning it, after many years of practice. He’s just rolling the last set of eggs when he hears the bathroom door upstairs open and close, and Akira lays out the table, napkins and chopsticks and a vase of flowers in the middle.
She’s awake, he mouths to Akira. Akira gives him a thumbs up in return, hastily taking his apron off and wiping down the counter. Goro turns the burner off, flips the tamagoyaki on to a fresh plate, cuts it into four even pieces, and places it on the table as he follows Akira over to the stairs.
They hide in the shadow of it, listening to the running of water and the tap squeaking off before the door opens again, hearing Sumi’s footsteps come down the stairs, one by one, softened by her slippers.
As she rounds the banister, they accost her like a pair of ghosts, flanking her sides, and she lets out a surprised gasp. “Oh!”
“Good morning, sunshine,” Akira purrs. His hand comes to rest on her opposite shoulder as he leans down to give her a kiss on the cheek. Goro feels his heart flutter when Sumire giggles, as Akira’s unshaven face tickles her skin.
“Good morning, boys.” He’s weak to the way her shining gaze turns to him, and he slips an arm around her waist, bending to take her lips in a fresh, minty kiss. They’re soft, always softer than he can even believe. “Hmm, you taste like espresso, even this early,” she ribs. Goro chuckles against her mouth.
“And you taste like toothpaste.” Together, they guide her to the kitchen, settling her in her usual place before taking their own.
She’s thoroughly pleased by the tamagoyaki, groaning as the first bite hits her tongue. “Goro, this is wonderful,” she says through her mouthful. Akira smiles at him from across the table, and Goro gives him a knowing look, cheeks tingeing pink.
They eat quickly, minding the time before Sumi has to leave and all the things that come before, but still savoring the food and simply being with each other. Dinner will be the next time they’re all together, but the metal shining on their fingers makes Goro feel like it would be impossible to pull them away from each others’ thoughts, no matter how far they are.
Their feet tangle under the small table; Sumi’s leg brushes against Akira’s shin, and he prods back with his big toe, pulling a squeal out of her that makes Goro wheeze around his bite. The two of them play footsie while she struggles not to spill her coffee, finally pinning down Akira’s foot with her own small, white-socked one, and Akira pretends to slump his head in defeat, grinning at her musical laughter.
Sumi sighs, rubbing the small of her back as she gets up from the table, and the two of them are instantly at her side, even though there are plates to be cleared and dessert to be had.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright working today?” Akira’s hand moves down to rest gently over her slightly protruding stomach, Goro covering it with his own. She’s not that far along, it’s only been a few months, but her toned body shows it better than most.
She smiles up at them brightly. “Ah, you know what I always say– a little exercise can’t hurt!” At their expressions, she clicks her tongue. “Don’t worry, I won’t overdo it. Much.”
Goro raises an eyebrow. “We won’t need to have a repeat of last April, right?” When she had broken her ankle, and Akira had caught her practicing cartwheels right before the cast was set to come off– preparations, or something. He had bridal carried her around for the rest of the week, his own classes be damned.
“Nope!” she squeaks, flushing red. “Nope, no way, that’s not happening.”
“Good,” Akira says, pulling her into a quick kiss of his own. “Then there’s only one thing we have left for now.” He steps away to lift the lid of the cake box on the counter, picking up one of the cupcakes as Goro eases her back down into her chair. She gasps at the sight of the garden-themed cupcake that Akira brings on another plate, turning it around to see the carefully made and placed violets and grass.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathes. “I can’t believe you both got up early to make these, it’s amazing, I’m so…” She trails off, taking off her glasses to swipe at her eye with the heel of her hand, and Goro is quick to wrap his arm around her, pressing a kiss into her hair. Akira takes the plate from her and encircles both of them in a hug, feeling his own eyes burn a little.
“I’m so lucky to have you both,” she chokes out. “I love you so much.”
“And we, you,” Goro says. He loves her so, so much, knows Akira’s love burns just as bright. He rests his chin on her head. “Happy birthday, Sumi.”
“Happy birthday, dear,” Akira echoes. Sumire sniffles, then giggles a little.
“It’s not even lunchtime yet, how am I gonna manage not crying during practice when I think of this?”
“Hmm,” Goro ponders aloud. “Imagine your team being distracted at nationals when they see the cute bentos Akira will make you, and not being able to focus on their routine.”
“That’s mean,” she pouts, watery. “But accurate. Alrighty!” Her mind apparently made up, tears subsided, she makes to get up from the table, and they step back while she ties her hair up and puts her glasses back on. “I suppose it’s time to get ready, then.”
“May I join you?” Goro can’t help it; he reaches out and strokes her long, crimson hair, now almost down to her waist. “I have some flowers that I really don’t know what to do with,” he says, sly. “I know the perfect place for them.”
She tsks, gently taking his hand and twining their fingers together. “Sweet talker, as usual. Yes, you can braid my hair. Akira, would you make sure our dear husband doesn’t make me late for work?”
Akira laughs, swooping in to kiss both of them on the cheek. “Aye aye, captain.” Akira winks at Goro. “I’ll drag him naked out of the bath if I have to.”
“And knowing you, right into bed.” Sumi leans up to press her lips to his briefly, before she’s pulling away and tugging Goro with her, leaving Akira to start cleaning up while Goro takes care of their lovely wife.
As he sinks into the tub behind her, lathering her hair and making sure she’s comfortable, he thinks about everything they’ve braved together. How Sumi’s strength was the one to save them all, how they stood against a god and built this life together in an imperfect world. But he doesn’t let himself wallow in thoughts of it being too perfect. Not anymore.
His stomach is full. His house is warm. His heart is full of love, more than he could ever imagine.
And the world has never felt more right.