| [anyway, putting all the stuff with sato and the other guys aside for a moment — ignoring the fact that nothing mizuki said afterward made any sense whatsoever — akari still has a shower to take, and a dinner to make, and a lover to curl up with at the end of the day. so all's well on that front, really. so he's ignoring the texts and calls from his friends. he'll deal with tomorrow tomorrow.
akari hasn't become a master chef overnight, but from what he's gleaned by looking at the contents of mizuki's fridge, he's guessing that he's the first person to make the man home-cooked meals in some time. it's not like mizuki didn't own a frying pan, or never used his stove at all — clearly he owned whatever utensils that a bachelor would need to make a meal at home on occasion — but the life of a salaryman is a busy one, an exhausting one that often makes buying a hot meal at the convenience store seem like the most logical path of least resistance, and if mizuki moved out of his parents' house during college (that would explain why he said the bar manager helped him out a lot, wouldn't it?), maybe he hasn't had real home cooking in a long time.
maybe he figured he'd have a wife to do that kind of thing.
so akari makes the man nikujaga. it's one of those warm, filling, meat-and-potatoes dishes that he liked from his own mom before she turned cold — which, you know, whatever, he probably deserved it — and the comforting smell of it makes mizuki's modest apartment seem more like a home. and maybe it's not that great, really — maybe it's a little unevenly seasoned, and the meat is a little burnt in places — but it's homemade, and it's piping hot, and it doesn't need to be microwaved, and isn't that what matters, really?
akari is sly, in any case, and he knows he shouldn't overstep his bounds. mizuki had some kind of work emergency he needed to look into from his laptop, so akari peeks over his shoulder from the doorway of the kitchen, making absolutely sure that his boyfriend (it's still odd to think of him as a boyfriend) isn't on his cellphone or a conference call before he chirps with uncharacteristically girlish charm:]
Honey... Dinner's ready! |
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