Hunk plugs in his speaker, queues his favourite cooking playlist, and gets to finely chopping up vegetables after he decides he wants to serve the skewers with fried rice. He dices larger for the skewers and, once that’s done, he sets up their kitchenette with stations so he can most efficiently skewer, grill, and wrap the pork belly. He begins doing that, piercing each chunk of pork with bell peppers and onions in between. He creates a trayful of the skewers then starts placing them on a small, oiled skillet, three at a time.

The loud sizzle is a sorely-missed sound, and he revels in it as he turns the skewers on each side so they’re evenly cooked, generously basting them with what’s left of the marinade.

The delicious aroma hangs heavy when he’s done with the first skewers and he gingerly slips off a piece, blows on it, and gives it a taste.

Hunk doesn’t even try holding back a satisfied noise. The pork is so, so incredibly soft, and his teeth barely have to pierce the skin before it melts in his mouth. It bursts with flavor, not to mention the light char which adds some smokiness. He nods in approval, popping another piece into his mouth. It’s followed by a square of bell pepper and it elicits a nice crunch.

He dusts off his hands when he hears a shuffle. He looks up to see Pidge slowly come into view, clearly woken up from a nap, holding Steampunk.

“Good morning,” Hunk teases.

“Hey. I smelled something good.” Their voice is gruff with disuse as they reach the kitchen. Steampunk leaps from her arms and onto the floor, heading toward her scratch post and thankfully away from the food. Pidge dusts their clothes. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Pork skewers and fried rice.” Hunk grins and lowers the music. “And Lance that texted he and Keith are bringing home dumplings, so we’ll have that, too.”

Pidge hums in interest. They walk over to Hunk and reach onto their tip-toes so they can look over his shoulder.

“Here.” Hunk turns around with one of the skewers and eases a bit of pork onto a small fork, holding it up to Pidge’s mouth so they can taste. Their drowsy expression wanes as they chew and they comically blink several times as they process. “Wow. That’s delicious.” Some of their internal battery seems to recharge as they take another bite, finishing off what’s left on the fork. Hunk happily relinquishes the rest of the skewer after making sure to wrap it around a napkin, so Pidge can snack while he grills the rest. They mumble a ‘thank you’ around a mouthful of pork belly and go to lean against the opposite counter.

Like when Hunk first met them, Pidge usually prefers to do their own thing. He and Lance respect it, give them their ample space, but it warms Hunk’s heart whenever they embrace co-living.

Like now, when they wordlessly start setting the table.

“You’re gonna join us?”

Pidge shrugs. “Sure.” They kneel to refill Steampunk’s food and Hunk smiles, turning back to the stove.