Heads or Tails? (OC x SUNA RINTAROU) (OC x KAGEYAMA TOBIO)

je suis fatigue

Akuma's POV:

Suna and I were watching the sunset, and we stayed there until it was pitch black outside, and the street lights were on. I turned to go inside, gesturing for Suna to follow me. I entered through the already open balcony door, with Suna pursuing closely behind me.

"Are you hungry?" I asked him.

"Kind of."

"Do you want me to make something?"

"You can cook?" He exclaimed from behind me.

"Uh, yes? Mom's recipe book has damn near everything."

"Can I try western food?"

"Sure," we strolled down to the kitchen, and I instructed Suna to sit down on the chairs by the island and look through my mothers cookbook, or I guess you could call it mine, for a reason I'll elaborate on later. It was just an old notebook of hers, but she wrote in all of her recipes. It was thick, and filled to the brim with paper slips, sticky notes, and a few old food stains here and there. But as beat up as it was, it was something I held dear to my heart, for obvious reasons. Since she came from Canada, and her first language was English, she only had an English cookbook. She learnt Japanese, and became fluent, but she never bothered to make a Japanese book. I think it was a year after she passed, I took it upon myself to translate the entire thing into Japanese. So now, I had an English version, and a Japanese version. I obviously gave Suna the Japanese version. Even though the Japanese version was the newer one, it got pretty beat up, and fast. I used it on a daily basis, as I would usually be the one cooking dinner, and that's how it came to be almost as beat up as the original English one. Cooking was something else I took up when Mom passed, I could recall that she taught me a few things here and there. But I don't think I would ever be on par with her in terms of culinary skills, she was the mother, and she was a prodigy at whatever she did. I settled down with being second best, for once in my life.

"Spaghetti?" Suna wondered, furrowing his eyebrows. I cleared my throat, and shook my head ever so slightly to get me out of my trance.

"You want spaghetti?" I confirmed. He nodded, intrigued by the word and description of spaghetti. I patted my hand on the opposite side of the counter, motioning for him to give me the book. Suna slid it gently across the island, and I spun it around to read it over.

"Are you just gonna watch me make this?" I questioned him, while scavenging for an apron to dawn while making dinner for the night.

"What else am I gonna do?"

"Fair," I concluded, tying the apron around my waist, before reading over the recipe again. I placed my finger on the lines, not losing my place.

"Someone has to wife you up one day," Suna teased, resting his elbow on the island with his chin in his palm. He was staring at me, again.

"Shut up."

***

"Done!" I exclaimed, pushing the pot of spaghetti over Suna. I put my hand up, as if to say: 'Wait.' I pulled out two plates, and two pairs of chopsticks. I sorted everything to where it was meant to be, before I lastly went to go get the water for the two of us. Suna wasn't digging in, and he was just staring at me, again.

"What are you waiting for?" I pondered, while pouring the water in from the dispenser in the refrigerator.

"You."

"Alright, coming," I stated, delicately sliding the glass of water over to him. I plopped down in the seat next to him, and I waited for Suna to start pouring the spaghetti into his plate.