Work Text:
It was 6:45 am.
Miyuki had just gotten off a call and was sauntering towards the kitchen in a tired slump.
Miyuki wasn’t supposed to be out of bed. He’d been confined to the bed for the past 3 days, sporting a concerning 101F fever, coughing his lungs out, throat feeling like dry sandpaper and pathetic . His sinuses were inflamed as well, having gone through with about 5 big boxes of tissues. A horrible time for both him and his girlfriend, who’d been worried sick about him; never leaving his side, even opting on missing some of her classes (“my attendance record is almost perfect anyways”) to tend to him. Setting alarm clocks on both their phones to avoid even accidentally missing out the prescribed doses of medicine and food and most importantly, rest.
But now it was mostly worn off. His fever has not risen since last morning. He could inhale without having to blow his nose right after. Speaking was no longer cumbersome to his throat.
For now, only post viral weakness lingered. Which was exactly what Kaguya was preparing a remedy for in her early morning glory in their apartment kitchen. Hair tied in a loose bun, a few unruly strands falling onto her face, an untied apron with only a small splatter of cream on the front, eyebrows knitted in concentration, nose scrunched, cheeks flushed a shallow red and sweat forming on her forehead courtesy of steam surrounding her.
She looked positively adorable . Part of him wanted to gobble her up. Some of the sickness was dispelled from his body by that sight alone.
He tried wishing her a good morning but what came out his mouth was an undignified wheeze and a garbled cough.
Her concentration snapped and she whipped her head around.
“Miyuki! What are you doing up so early?” she squeaked, worried “I was going to wake you up soon. You need the rest”
“Sorry, I got a call. And then I couldn’t sleep, and you weren’t there to help me either” he whined, leaning against the countertop, his face propped up on his hands, doing his own rendition of puppy eyes.
“I’m sorry” Kaguya's face softened with a smile, amused by this very fascinating sight in front of her “I had to make you something to eat. God knows the last time you’ve eaten a proper meal with or without your sickness”
Miyuki mumbled something about being busy, before staggering near her. Kaguya’s eyes widened
“You’re still sick. Go back to bed!” she ordered after seeing him nearly stumble on his feet.
“I’m fine…” he insisted, voice deep and hoarse and unexpectedly charming, all sickness considered. Kaguya had bigger worries, though.
“You could be down with a fever right now for all we know” she retorted, brandishing the spatula at him.
“I’m not!” he persisted. Kaguya scowled, unaffirmed. Her cheeks were still tinged slightly red. Her lips, looking closer, were also a bit chapped. Miyuki had an idea.
He stopped right beside her, and sneaked his fingertips under her shirt, pressing them against her bare stomach, earning himself a yelp and the wondrous sight of her cheeks blossoming from red to deep crimson.
“See? No temperature running” he playfully grinned, squeezing her waist for good measure. While he wasn’t hot enough to be a matter of immediate concern, he was still warm from being cooped up in a thick blanket for the entire night.
“ Miyuki ” she scolded, albeit halfheartedly, too overcome with surprise “I’m trying to cook”
“Then cook” he smiled cheekily, pressing himself closer to her. From where he stood, he was basically towering over her. His hands never escaped her shirt, now opting to rest on her hips as he placed a small kiss on the top of her head.
“ Miyuki ” this time his name came out as a weak whimper as she stirred the pot.
“What?” he chuckled, stepping forward until they were basically plastered to each other from back to back. “Is my presence so distracting to you?”
Well, yes. He was the most calamitous distraction, enough to throw the her- the prestigious Shinomiya family’s prized daughter- off balance with just so much as a twitch of his muscle. And with all these years of dating, joined with his academic calibers, she thought he would have the entire picture on what he does to her.
Or maybe he did and was in a mood to tease her about it; while she was in the zone making her remedial culinary masterpiece.
She clicked her tongue under her breath. Actually, she liked him better when he was too sick to speak.
“No” she responded, with her head held high in pride, and Miyuki giggled behind her in a way that said he wasn't buying her answer. “But you need to stop sticking to me like a leech regardless. It’s constricting my movements”
“You only need to stir the pot” he retorted, clutching her by the waist tighter, “I won’t be ‘constricting your moves’ in any way”
“That’s where you’re mistaken, Miyuki” she started, playful annoyance trickling into her voice “I have to see if it needs more chicken. Chicken have high protein which is good for building muscle strength which you would need after being in bed for so long. Plus, you love it, so if this needs more of that I would have to reach all the way there-” she pointed at the half opened pack of pre shredded chicken she bought from the supermarket “-and put it in. Also, spice would need checking. I’d have to be more generous with that seeing how your sinuses are blocked, but not too generous or else it’d scratch your throat” by this moment, she had stopped trying to make a point and started rambling checkmarks to herself, unaware of her boyfriend behind her “And cream, I feel like the colour of this soup isn’t as thick as I saw in the internet website. Then again, photographers always use substitutes for food to make the food look more appealing, so it’s probably fine. More cream would fatten us up-”
He placed a kiss right on her pulse. In the split second he had them pressed against her neck, he could already feel her pulse rate increase. Content, he settled on perching his chin on her shoulders, thoroughly enjoying the way she turned even redder from the corner of his eye. He sniffed in as much as he could with his partly stuffy nose.
“Smells delicious already” he muttered, turning his neck down to place yet another kiss on her shoulder as a compliment. “I can’t wait”
“You wouldn’t need to wait much longer,” she reassured. Miyuki shifted a bit, making things more comfortable for both of them as he curled his arms around her waist tighter. It almost reminded her of a snake entrapping its poor victim. She gave the pot another stir lest the soup should stick on its walls. He gave a contended hum, and rubbed his cheek against the nape of her neck.
“Kei got in” he said, finally remembering why he came to the kitchen in the first place.
“Harvard?” she asked, turning to face him as much as she could. Which wasn’t much, considering their position.
“Yeah” he smiled giddily. She could feel pride radiating out of that smile. She was just as proud of her as he was. She probably would have squealed, clapped her hands, or even frantically called her to congratulate; but this position was now far too comfortable, and with the sun just peeking from behind the houses, it didn’t feel like an appropriate time to do something so… enthusiastic. She wanted the pace as mellow as she could against the grayness of an early, serene morning.
“I’m so happy,” she grinned. “It’s quite a challenge to get in there. I’m so proud of her”
“You should have heard her on the phone” he chuckled, unearthing his left hand from under her shirt to sneak in a small cube of cheese to nibble on, before returning it to its rightful place. “She was screaming. I don’t think I’ve seen her scream unless it was at me”
Kaguya giggled, letting the soup simmer for a while by putting the lid on. She followed Miyuki’s example and snacked on a cube of cheese herself. “She must be overjoyed”
“A bit too overjoyed, I think. I was deafened for a good two seconds” he grumbled. Kaguya reached back and patted his cheek affectionately.
“Let her have this. Actually, on that thought, why don’t we fly back when your internship is over and I treat her? I know she really enjoyed that lobster place we went for my birthday…”
“You spoil her too much,” he groaned. Even despite their strong ongoing relationship, she still pampered her to no end. As time went on and they got better acquainted with each other, Kaguya spoiled her less for approval but more because she adored the feeling of being an elder sister to someone that wasn’t Ishigami. Ishigami won’t go shopping for clothes with her, nor would he give any advice on manicure and pedicure and other fashion trends she was unaware of, and she definitely could not bestow any womanly advice on relationships and maturity to him as she could to Kei.
“I like her” was all the explanation she gave for casually making plans for dining at one of the most expensive, lavish, high-end restaurants in the country. “And my brothers owe me a lot of favours, so it’s not like they can object to me splurging just a bit for one night” she added, with a mischievous glint in her eyes and a calculating, almost maniacal and revengeful smirk. It would have been almost terrifying if Miyuki internally didn’t find it hot.
“Can you please also book a love hotel with that?” he asked, almost in a trance, probably still delirious from the fever, not realizing what he’d spoken until Kaguya froze under his touch. Startled, she accidentlly flailed to the side of the pot, where the backside of her palm burned for a split second. She gasped, more scandalized at his proposition than the sting of the hot pan.
“Kaguya, are you alri-”
“Miyuki” she hissed, “You need to be careful before saying something so risque”
He examined the back of her hand. Relieved that nothing major happened to it, he gently kissed it better.
“M sick” he mumbled as an excuse “Plus, it’s not like you never babbled on about dragging me to bed when you got sick”
“That was when I was in my height of sickness, not when it had nearly worn off” she scoffed.
She finally took off the lid and brought the ladle up. It was coated generously with the cream of soup. She swiped a dollop off the ladle and licked her finger. Satisfied by the taste, she brought it up towards him as well
“I think it’s done, tell me if it needs anything”
Miyuki tasted it as well, taking a much bigger sample then she did. She switched off the stove and covered the pot as she waited for his judgement.
“It’s amazing” he praised, genuinely impressed at how well she made it. “It’s so creamy and delicious and the chicken is so soft…” he mumbled some other praises that were inevitably muffled by him pressing kisses down her collar, swiping the strap of her nightgown down her shoulders to get access to more skin. Smiling, she brought two bowls in front of her and opened the lid again, now ready to pour their helpings-
“Marry me, Kaguya”
Maybe if he had dropped this question when the early morning haze had escaped her system, she would have stopped functioning for an entire hour. Maybe even more. She would have had to book an emergency appointment with the Quack again.
But now…everything was so quiet. She could hear the same two birds she heard every day outside her window, ones she frequently used as models for her photography. There were no cars to be heard. A cycle bell rang in the distance. He was unfazed by what he had just asked of her, or was hiding it well behind nibbling a particular spot on the curve between her neck and collar. She closed her eyes. The air was chilly after the rains, light aroma of petrichor mixed with chicken and the bedsheet detergent.
This was the normal romance she longed for. This was the normal, mundane, domestic, yet still absolutely heartracing, showstopping, mind numbingly magnificent romance she desired. The ‘getting lost in the moment’ kind of romance. The romance she got, and if his question had anything to say about it, the romance she will keep receiving for the rest of her life. The kind of romance they had come to accept from each other.
“Really, now?” she raised an eyebrow, drowsiness completely washed away by this newfound feeling of giddiness.
“Yeah” he continued, “so that you keep making these every time I get sick”
It was truly fascinating how he transitioned from making such provocative statements to whining akin to a child within seconds.
It was around 7 am in the morning.
She breathed out,
“Sounds like a plan”.
Her nonchalance was ruined by her shaky, breathless voice. Her hands trembled as she grated some cheese onto each bowl, just like how the internet article said in the side note.
“Really?” he asked with eyes widening in disbelief, “Because I was planning on getting a ring and everything. Eventually, when I start out and got my first paycheck or two”
“Then you can ask me again. Or, if I get my paychecks first, I can ask you” she offered “Or we can pick our rings together.”
“Wow…can’t believe we’re discussing how we can propose.” he chuckled incredulously “Wouldn’t this be much less of a hassle if you just gave me an answer now?”
“I mean, you already know my answer in your heart” she stuttered, wincing at how miserably she was still failing at being cool about this “But now that you’ve put this question on the table tentatively, I think it’d do us both good if take time to truly consider marriage before jumping into the whole ring thing. After all, if I start wearing one my family will ask about it, and it’d be a bad look on both of us if we don’t have anything definitive to say. Plus, we’d have to think about our jobs and if we can live together, though commuter marriages are a thing-”
“ Kaguya ”
“Sorry!!!” she floundered, turning to properly face him now, still in his embrace. Her hands gently raked his torso.
“To put it simply, it’s a yes. But for later” she concluded, holding his face between her hands. She pulled him in for the softest kiss she could offer, lips moving slowly, lazily, as her thumb glided across his cheekbones. His hands danced on his back, going up and down bare skin, pulling her flush against him. She lazily ran his tongue across his mouth, tasting the gentlest notes of her newest concoction, reminding her that the soup would get murky and cold if they continued.
It was 7:05 am in the morning.
Her phone rang with “Kei <3” shining in bright letters.
It was perfect.