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Karasu’s apartment kitchen, at this hour, looked more like a war zone than an actual kitchen—even though, really, only Karasu was actually doing any cooking in there. The crow moved with surgical efficiency among the burners, sautéing onions, garlic, and meat in the pan while keeping a clinical eye to make sure nothing burned and everything came out just right.
Otoya, for his part, was sitting on the countertop, swinging his feet to the beat of a pop song playing softly in the background, “helping” in the way he considered sufficient—that is, doing nothing more than watching his boyfriend and stealing a kiss every time Karasu walked close enough.
“Hey, Tabito,” called the albino, reaching out to tug the sleeve of the crow’s shirt just as he passed by to drain the pasta.
“Mmm?” Karasu replied, not stopping his stirring.
“Don’t you think the kitchen looks prettier when you’re cooking and I’m just watching you?” Otoya smiled, with that signature adorable-idiot face of his.
“Yeah, sure, Eita,” Karasu snorted, giving a soft laugh and shaking his head a couple of times. “It’s the perfect scene—you sitting there like a restless kid while I bust my ass cooking.”
“That’s what love’s about, crow—being a team,” replied the albino, hopping down from the counter to hug Karasu from behind, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. “Besides, you’re the kitchen expert.”
“If you keep sticking to me like this, I’m going to drop the sauce,” Karasu huffed. “Come on, get off or you’ll be the one cleaning up after.”
Otoya obeyed with a pout, sitting at the table and watching as Karasu finished serving the food. In less than five minutes, dinner was ready: two plates of al dente pasta, homemade sauce, golden chicken bits, and a generous portion of steamed vegetables—carrots, broccoli, and zucchini, all cut into neat little cubes and perfectly cooked.
“All right, let’s eat,” Karasu said, setting the plate in front of Otoya with the satisfied smile of a chef.
The albino looked at the plate enthusiastically—until his eyes landed on the colorful corner of steamed vegetables. Suddenly, his face turned overly serious and his shoulders slumped in defeat, looking at his boyfriend like a scolded puppy.
“What’s this…?” he asked, as if he’d just discovered a crime in his dinner.
“Vegetables,” Karasu replied, sitting down across from him with all the authority of a future psychiatrist. “Carrots, broccoli, and zucchini—they’re incredible sources of vitamins, fiber, and all the nutrients your late-adolescent body needs to avoid dying before thirty.”
“Don’t you love me anymore, Tabito?” whimpered the albino, going pale and with a dramatically soft voice.
“Excuse me?” Karasu blinked, bewildered.
“You only put veggies in people’s food if you hate them!” Otoya whined, dropping his fork and making a tantrum like a little kid, even trying to get his green eyes to look on the verge of tears. “You used to make me good food! Homemade burgers, oven pizza, artisan ramen… Even pancakes with smiley faces! But now…!”
“Otoya, enough—you’re already a perfectly functional adult…” But Karasu had to stop mid-sentence, correcting himself with resignation and sighing with all the patience he could muster. “Well, you’re not functional, but you’re already an adult—EAT YOUR DAMN VEGETABLES.”
“I don’t wanna! I can’t, Tabi, I’m going to die, I’ll get hives or diarrhea, I’ll turn green and you’ll probably leave me for someone who actually eats broccoli…” he whined more dramatically, clutching his face and slumping onto the table like a limp noodle.
“You’re not going to die, Eita,” said Karasu, looking at him as if considering committing him for behavioral therapy. “Besides, nobody’s ever died from eating broccoli.”
“That’s what you think!” Otoya protested, still maintaining his martyr’s position, eyeing the plate with suspicion and poking the carrot like it was radioactive. “Can you at least make it like an airplane for me?”
“Are you serious? How old are you?” Karasu replied, genuinely amused and now laughing for real.
“Doesn’t matter! Or make it a train, whatever—just don’t leave me alone with these sad, horrible veggies,” Otoya tilted his head, offended at just the sight of the vegetables.
Karasu stood up, went around the table, and sat next to the albino, taking Eita’s fork and spearing a piece of broccoli—then, sighing in resignation, brought it to his boyfriend’s mouth.
“Here, open up,” he said in a tired-but-in-love dad voice. “Here comes the airplane, ready to crash land in your dumb mouth…”
“Tastes like grass…” Otoya grumbled, chewing the bite with some lost dignity.
“It’s broccoli, not grass,” Karasu corrected him. “Chew it, swallow, and shut up.”
“I’m dying, Tabito!” Otoya dramatized again, finishing the veggie and opening his mouth for the next, eating grudgingly and faking a faint. “I see the light… it’s at the end of the tunnel…”
“I’ll kill you myself if you don’t finish,” growled Karasu, now skewering the zucchini and shoving it in Otoya’s mouth. “Aren’t you supposed to be a ninja? Ninjas eat whatever they’re given—even roots and bugs if they have to survive, and here you are crying over veggies.”
“And proudly so,” Otoya replied, chewing and complaining. “Besides, I’m eating this only for you—because you love me and you cook for me.”
“And because I love you, I’m making you eat healthy,” Karasu leaned over and planted a quick kiss on his forehead. “I don’t want to be widowed before we’re even married.”
“Well, I can accept eating more veggies if you always do the airplane thing,” Otoya replied, happy but defeated.
“There’s no hope for you. One of these days I’ll try feeding you liver and onions airplane style—let’s see if you really eat it,” Karasu joked, going back to his place at the table.
Otoya went pale, but burst out laughing so hard he almost knocked over his plate. In the end, amid laughter, drama, airplane spoons, and plenty of stolen kisses as reward, Otoya did end up eating all his veggies—and Karasu, satisfied and in love down to the bone, knew that their dinners would always be like this: chaotic, emotionally charged, and, most of all, full of love…
And a little broccoli every now and then.