Good Food is Made for Eating

1 0 0
                                    

Hitoshi has a problem.

And that problem is- he's doing this- actually doing this.

Hitoshi has woken up, found a red head alpha curled around him, said alpha had blinked himself awake, patted him in the head, kissed him in the cheek and said 'good morning Toshi' with too much cheer and shine, for something not out of a face filter app.

Hitoshi had dragged himself off his humongous nest, crossed the apartment to find another alpha- this time blond- toasting muffins and now Hitoshi is watching as he makes whipped cream; by hand.

Absolutely wild.

Hitoshi's just sitting on a chair remembering the previous week, reliving last night and thinking, oh fuck, I am doing this.

Bakugou drops a plate in front of him, stacked up with perfect golden-brown pancakes, sliced kiwis and banana- fat blackberries and round blueberries on the corner- a generous dollop of cream, a drizzle of honey. Another one comes after- toasted bread with eggs and crispy bacon, the perfect breakfast bun- Bakugou slides a tall glass of orange juice to the mix and Hitoshi doesn't even have to take a bite to know it's gonna be delicious, but he does so anyways, and has to close his eyes to thank the Gods for this opportunity.

I am staying in this place and getting homecooked meals and sharing my heat with two pro hero, crazy attractive alphas, like, for real.

He's doing this, and he has no idea how.

That's a problem- but a problem he's sure as hell taking in.

Ugh. The bread is so buttery, the fruit so fresh-

"Sparkles, you are so skilled at this it makes me furious."

"Good." Fucker.

"Pancakes!" Chants Kirishima with a happy whoop. He's bare chested and damp looking, the ends of his long hair curl slightly up from catching moisture in the shower. He wolfs down twice as much as Hitoshi in a quarter of the time and it is as impressive as it is distressing.

The red head is still cute in his eyes though, just as he was before he mutilated his food, so Hitoshi closes that drawer and lets it go- the guy's nipples are very distracting. So is the dark trail at his navel.

Hitoshi shakes his head. Impure thoughts at the table, what a sin.

He heaves a sigh, mutters down at his breakfast,

"You're getting that blowjob you just fuckin' wait-"

Kirishima splutters on his eggs. "Toshi!"

"You can join," He hums offhandedly, licking cream from his fork; Kirishima's not blinking. "Or watch, I don't mind." A memory pops in his head, a suggestion, a stray thought; he smiles- scoops another bite. "Or would it be nicer if you were tied up to a chair?"

Bakugou downs his tea. "Think you can string him up?" He's throwing questions back now? At least he seems honestly interested. "Our bed post has bars."

Indeed- he had seen them. Bakugou has good ideas. He pops his lips. "Ah, I didn't bring my binding cloth. I could do with rope but-"

"Okay," Kirishima cuts in, standing with a jolt. His plates are empty. "So maybe don't give me that kind of stuff to think about when I have work to get to, please, I- please." He drops his dishes in the sink and makes a strategic escape from the kitchen. As he turns the corner, Hitoshi catches a glimpse of colour, face as red as his hair.

"He's shy for a big guy that hangs around you." If Bakugou's lack of filter hasn't had much effect in dampening those reactions after over a decade, Hitoshi has no chance in accomplishing much either. "Should I dial it down a bit?"

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: 7 hours ago ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

Soil, Flowers and SugarWhere stories live. Discover now