Jui-Imouto-Chan

Sakae is just happy that he'll be able to spend a few weeks without coming home to find flour in his hair or discarded fruit rinds in his pockets.

It had been a tough decision on whether to attend culinary school (Haruka never shut up about him being a chef through their whole school career together) or go with something more "practical" (there was no bringing back the workshop, but Sugishta's grandfather always looked a tad wistful when he talked about Sakae properly training to be a machinist), but in the end he doesn't regret his choice. Even if he does spend a lot of his days smelling like cooking oil and burnt sugar.

He's found an odd sort of joy in crafting all those fiddly little pastries. They always looked so beautiful, almost too good to be real when they sat behind the glass counters of bakeries in meticulously arranged rainbow assortments, and the people preparing them always made it look so effortless. As it turned out, actually having to assemble everything was just as complicated and intricate a process as anything he and his family had ever done at the workshop.

He rubs at his eyes with the back of one hand as he steps through the door, hanging his travel bag on the hook and stepping around a pair of hastily kicked off sneakers by instinct alone.

The kitchen is cold and empty as he passes by, a set of dishes in the sink, and a pot, cutting board and knives in the dish rack.

His stomach growls softly but he ignores it, too late to eat anyway. He could have grabbed something on the way home but he hadn't planned for that in the week's budget, and he chafed at spending too much money on takeout when he had a perfectly serviceable kitchen at home.

He squints as he flicks on the bathroom light (one of the bulbs flickers, he'll replace it tomorrow), stripping quickly and stepping into the shower's scalding embrace with a sigh. He didn't want to spend the first night of his summer break feeling like a grease trap.

After his shower he brushes his teeth, only smearing a little bit of toothpaste on his cheek when his mouth erupts in a yawn he can't stifle, and then after that he stumbles while pulling on the pair of sweatpants that lay half folded on top of the washing machine.

Yeah, he definitely needs this break.

There's a light on in the bedroom as he steps out of the bathroom, warm yellow glow illuminating the hallway where it spills through the cracked open door. He eases it open and peers around the frame.

Haruka is sitting up in bed examining the cookbook Sakae had left on the nightstand before leaving that morning, arms curled around Sakae's stolen pillow as he reads. The bedside lamp light casts soft shadows on his face and bare shoulders. He blinks hugely at Sakae when he notices him, tiredness showing around his eyes. It's nearing midnight and they'd both woken up with Sakae's 5 a.m. alarm that morning, Haruka's grumbling almost loud enough to drown out the bleating of the clock; it wasn't the first time Sakae had gone about his morning routine with Haruka clinging to his back and it wouldn't be the last.

"Thought I told you not to wait up for me?" Sakae says. He distinctly remembers sending a text around the time Hanazawa started in on the third story about her cute, wonderful, amazing girlfriend.

"Yeah, and?" Haruka challenged, eyes narrowed even as he stifles a yawn with the back of his hand.

Sakae feels the corner of his mouth turn up, shaking his head as he steps fully into their bedroom. Trust Haruka to never just blindly do whatever someone else tells him.

"What're you smilin' about?" Haruka's voice carries a hint of suspicion as Sakae eases himself into bed with a sigh and a wince; the shower hadn't soothed all the aches in his muscles from standing all day. Maybe a nice, hot bath tomorrow morning. Maybe he can even convince Haruka to join him, make up for earlier.

"Just thinking how you haven't changed at all," It's impossible for Sakae to keep the fondness out of his voice as he presses himself against Haruka's side and gently knocks their heads together, thrilling when Haruka presses back.

They didn't officially get together until the last week of their third year. Two and a half years after dancing around their (in hindsight) really, extremely, stupidly obvious mutual attraction. Honestly, they should probably have figured it out by the tenth time Haruka came over for dinner and ended up spending the night because he fell asleep at the table almost immediately after eating. Or when Sakae had bought a spare toothbrush for him. Or convinced him to leave an extra set of clothes there just in case.

To be fair, it wasn't as if their high-school lives had been anything like normal, so it stood to reason that none of this would be either. And the look on Haruka's face when Sakae had shown up at the front door of his tiny apartment the day after graduation with an armload of empty moving boxes and declared he would be moving in with him effective immediately had made the entire wait worth it.

Two years on and Sakae hasn't changed his mind one bit.

"How was work?" Sakae asks, brushing a kiss across Haruka's temple and deftly stealing his pillow back during the brief moment of distraction as Haruka tilts his head up to accept the affection while he rambled off all the nonsense he dealt with in his day to day.

Haruka glares at him but doesn't make a move to grab the pillow back, instead focusing his attention back on the cookbook that he still held in his hands.

It's open to the dessert section, and on the page there's a picture perfect slice of cake absolutely loaded with pink frosting and surrounded by strawberries, lemons and watermelon slices. As much as he enjoys the actual baking aspect, Sakae doesn't normally go in for overly sweet flavours himself. Still, strawberry and watermelon was a pleasant combination, and the lemon zest would make it nice and refreshing for the summer. He had promised some of his classmates that they would get together at least once over the break; the least he could do is a bring something with him.

"You want to try this one?" He asks, sliding his arm around Haruka's waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder as he scans the recipe, a mental shopping list already forming. He should have enough flour but he'll need more eggs, a meringue frosting would be better to cut the sweetness, maybe some cherries for a bit of extra tartness and show…better to stop before the budget got out of hand.

"…Maybe." Haruka hedges, taking one of his hands off the book to rest it on top of Sakae's where it's settled on the gentle roll of his stomach. Even now he's still hesitant to ask for things directly.

"You can help me make the grocery list tomorrow." Sakae says and Haruka perks up instantly.

If he's involved with the process it's less like he's asking for something and more like he's contributing, which Sakae has learned is the best way to work around his lingering reticence.

The words start to blur on the page and Sakae hides another jaw cracking yawn in Haruka's shoulder, resting more of his weight against his back for the simple joy of feeling Haruka flex and brace to support him. He hasn't grown much taller since they first met though Sakae is much appreciative of the muscle he's built up over the years. He tightens the arm around Haruka's waist, the hand resting on his stomach sliding down toward the waistband of his boxers without any real thought.