[ birthdays were never natsuki's thing—they rarely celebrated at home and he'd often forget about it once he made it into jcc. he remembers mafuyu's, though. difficult not to, when his parents doted on and spoiled him since he was born. mafuyu was the golden child, the one to fulfill their father's legacy after he'd given up on molding natsuki into what he wanted him to be, and now... now, they're finally free.
but birthdays. they've come and gone over the years, and natsuki hadn't given this year's much thought until mafuyu had surprised him with cake at midnight, dragging natsuki out of the depths of his lab to share it. the sweetness still lingers on his tongue even now as he blinks awake hours later into shin's takeover of his kitchen, squinting at the strip of sunlight peeking through his curtains as the sound of glassware and the smell of something cooking on the stove alerts him.
that's weird. mafuyu's with toramaru and amane for the day, he shouldn't be back so early. the only other person that would show up would be shin.
shuffling down the hallway to the kitchen confirms his suspicions, caught off guard at the entrance as he takes in everything: the bowls of cut fruit and syrup, the pan on the stove with the perfect circle of crepe, amongst other things. it's a lot to take in, especially when he's just woken up. ]
What are you doing? [ his tone is as dry as usual, but he finally moves away from the hallway, coming up next to shin at the stove to look at the crepe and sneaking a choco chip to nibble on. ] I didn't know you liked crepes.
[ or that he liked them enough to make them from scratch. ]
[ shin reminds himself very quickly that natsuki just woke up, but it doesn't help all that much because he knows the weaponsmaker is being one hundred percent sincere in his questions, regardless of just-woke-up or have-been-up-too-long status. he breathes in slow once. out. right. then he turns, spatula in hand and waves it in natsuki's sleepy face, which as it happens, is cute and arrestable probably. well. fine. ]
Happy. Birthday. Stupid.
[ and then, ]
What's it look like? I'm making you breakfast.
[ shin glances at the clock and amends drily, ]
Brunch. Ish.
[ he reaches one hand in front and across natsuki to grab the small dish of butter, the backs of his knuckles grazing along natsuki's shirt. then he sets the spatula down so he can turn the stove back on, pausing again only to look at him briefly and ask, ]
...if you want.
[ alright it's not a question. but it is, in its own way. the batter can be put into the fridge as can the toppings. natsuki's birthday is natsuki's birthday. he can have crepes for lunch and dinner if he so wishes, and it's not as though shin has anything else on the calendar for today. by design. not that the person he likes seems to understand any of this.
hard to say who's the real idiot here though. shin isn't even surprised and he still arranged this whole thing. he bites back a sigh and tries to hide at least some of his disappointment. a gift is a gift. natsuki really isn't obligated to see it as anything other than what it says on the tin. one of the bandages wrapped around shin's forearm is coming loose just a bit. the healing skin underneath may scar. it's the same side as the hand holding the butter dish. shin uses his other hand to reach up and touch the side of natsuki's face. ]
[ natsuki leans back a little from the spatula, frowning. but once shin wishes him a happy birthday, he pauses, mind blanking briefly as he processes it. there's the obvious surprise at the fact that shin knows the date to begin with and that he's here at all, having brought all these things with him to make natsuki brunch. with the amount of stuff he has, it had to have been planned out in advance. how long did shin think about doing this? how long did it take him to get everything together?
it's one thing for his brother to remember and to celebrate, but it's another thing entirely for someone else to do so. the idea that shin went through all this effort is still something he can't quite wrap his mind around, but it leaves a funny feeling in his chest—something tender and fledgling and softer than anything he's felt in a long, long time. he didn't think shin would care, is what he keeps circling back to, but here is the evidence that shin does: standing at his stove with an apron on and surrounded by ingredients, bandages wrapped along his arms. did he get those because of him?
the touch to his face brings him out of his thoughts, instinctively reaching up to wrap his fingers around shin's wrist. he doesn't pull it away, though, simply holds it for a moment before letting go. first things first— ]
I do want. [ the breakfast-slash-brunch. ] But let me help.
[ because he can't just sit around while shin's cooking for him. he points to shin's bandaged arm next, frowning briefly. ]
[ he sees it of course: the moment in which seba natsuki's brain buffers and processes and understands. very narrowly, shin avoids shaking him. patience. this is what he gets for falling for an idiot and wouldn't that be entertaining for him to hear? shin knows sometimes the insult (affectionate) is mutual and he can't even really argue against it. in this particular circumstance though, he feels well within his rights to be the bestower. in his head. and maybe a bit in his expression — fond...exasperated —
— moon eyed when he feels natsuki's fingers curl around his wrist. he blinks.
alright, he's the idiot too. same situation. okay. okay.
he doesn't realize he's holding his breath until natsuki lets go, and shin gently pushes faint disappointment somewhere out of sight.
cursed and blessed with both cat and dog traits, he perks up almost immediately when the words 'i do want' escape that sleepy voice. though he tilts his head, about to argue against 'helping'. this is a gift. shin doing the cooking and so on is kind of the point, and he's ready to tell him as much. perhaps he needs to put together a presentation on 'when you get a gift'? to be fair, he knows enough now about the sebas to imagine it's not like it happens often outside of each other.
instead of any of that though, what comes out is: ]
...huh?
[ his gaze shifts from natsuki's face down to where he's pointing. in nearly the same motion his head jerks up and he laughs, deflecting. not subtle. not trying to be, but also trying to be! ]
...oh! I ... [ it's kind of embarrassing. after all the things they've been through, one of the things that leaves the most marks on him is his repeated rendezvous with the kitchen (aoi-san humming over him with the burn ointment and pointing out his progress at the same time). he shrugs...finally putting some of the butter into the pan and reaching for the bowl of batter, back now to natsuki. ]
I haven't...cooked too much. Before living with the Sakamotos. So.
[ an answer, sort of. and not. it took a fair amount of practice and shin kept tripping himself up by overthinking it. the blush in his face betrays him by creeping to the tips of his ears, but he's focused enough on pouring just the right amount of batter — finally got this down pat — that he can ignore it or blame it on being near the stove. ]
clutches my chest
but birthdays. they've come and gone over the years, and natsuki hadn't given this year's much thought until mafuyu had surprised him with cake at midnight, dragging natsuki out of the depths of his lab to share it. the sweetness still lingers on his tongue even now as he blinks awake hours later into shin's takeover of his kitchen, squinting at the strip of sunlight peeking through his curtains as the sound of glassware and the smell of something cooking on the stove alerts him.
that's weird. mafuyu's with toramaru and amane for the day, he shouldn't be back so early. the only other person that would show up would be shin.
shuffling down the hallway to the kitchen confirms his suspicions, caught off guard at the entrance as he takes in everything: the bowls of cut fruit and syrup, the pan on the stove with the perfect circle of crepe, amongst other things. it's a lot to take in, especially when he's just woken up. ]
What are you doing? [ his tone is as dry as usual, but he finally moves away from the hallway, coming up next to shin at the stove to look at the crepe and sneaking a choco chip to nibble on. ] I didn't know you liked crepes.
[ or that he liked them enough to make them from scratch. ]
it's a good thing he loves you seba natsuki
Happy. Birthday. Stupid.
[ and then, ]
What's it look like? I'm making you breakfast.
[ shin glances at the clock and amends drily, ]
Brunch. Ish.
[ he reaches one hand in front and across natsuki to grab the small dish of butter, the backs of his knuckles grazing along natsuki's shirt. then he sets the spatula down so he can turn the stove back on, pausing again only to look at him briefly and ask, ]
...if you want.
[ alright it's not a question. but it is, in its own way. the batter can be put into the fridge as can the toppings. natsuki's birthday is natsuki's birthday. he can have crepes for lunch and dinner if he so wishes, and it's not as though shin has anything else on the calendar for today. by design. not that the person he likes seems to understand any of this.
hard to say who's the real idiot here though. shin isn't even surprised and he still arranged this whole thing. he bites back a sigh and tries to hide at least some of his disappointment. a gift is a gift. natsuki really isn't obligated to see it as anything other than what it says on the tin. one of the bandages wrapped around shin's forearm is coming loose just a bit. the healing skin underneath may scar. it's the same side as the hand holding the butter dish. shin uses his other hand to reach up and touch the side of natsuki's face. ]
You look like a zombie.
[ if zombies were hot. or something. ]
he doesn't deserve shin
it's one thing for his brother to remember and to celebrate, but it's another thing entirely for someone else to do so. the idea that shin went through all this effort is still something he can't quite wrap his mind around, but it leaves a funny feeling in his chest—something tender and fledgling and softer than anything he's felt in a long, long time. he didn't think shin would care, is what he keeps circling back to, but here is the evidence that shin does: standing at his stove with an apron on and surrounded by ingredients, bandages wrapped along his arms. did he get those because of him?
the touch to his face brings him out of his thoughts, instinctively reaching up to wrap his fingers around shin's wrist. he doesn't pull it away, though, simply holds it for a moment before letting go. first things first— ]
I do want. [ the breakfast-slash-brunch. ] But let me help.
[ because he can't just sit around while shin's cooking for him. he points to shin's bandaged arm next, frowning briefly. ]
How'd you get that?
shin would argue otherwise! ^_^
— moon eyed when he feels natsuki's fingers curl around his wrist. he blinks.
alright, he's the idiot too. same situation. okay. okay.
he doesn't realize he's holding his breath until natsuki lets go, and shin gently pushes faint disappointment somewhere out of sight.
cursed and blessed with both cat and dog traits, he perks up almost immediately when the words 'i do want' escape that sleepy voice. though he tilts his head, about to argue against 'helping'. this is a gift. shin doing the cooking and so on is kind of the point, and he's ready to tell him as much. perhaps he needs to put together a presentation on 'when you get a gift'? to be fair, he knows enough now about the sebas to imagine it's not like it happens often outside of each other.
instead of any of that though, what comes out is: ]
...huh?
[ his gaze shifts from natsuki's face down to where he's pointing. in nearly the same motion his head jerks up and he laughs, deflecting. not subtle. not trying to be, but also trying to be! ]
...oh! I ... [ it's kind of embarrassing. after all the things they've been through, one of the things that leaves the most marks on him is his repeated rendezvous with the kitchen (aoi-san humming over him with the burn ointment and pointing out his progress at the same time). he shrugs...finally putting some of the butter into the pan and reaching for the bowl of batter, back now to natsuki. ]
I haven't...cooked too much. Before living with the Sakamotos. So.
[ an answer, sort of. and not. it took a fair amount of practice and shin kept tripping himself up by overthinking it. the blush in his face betrays him by creeping to the tips of his ears, but he's focused enough on pouring just the right amount of batter — finally got this down pat — that he can ignore it or blame it on being near the stove. ]