Disclaimer: Isn't mine, does not belong to me, in no form or fashion do I have rights to it, yadda yadda yadda.
A/N: Just a little kitchen fun.

Abdiction

Sasuke's never learned how to cook, but each time he complains about dinner and Kakashi gives him that disinterested, heavy-lidded look, he finds a reason to try again.

It isn't his fault that he can't, of course. ("Of course," Kakashi agrees.) In fact, the entire village of Konoha was to blame, because in those first few months after the massacre Sasuke hadn't had to raise a single finger, seeing as how everyone nearly drove themselves into the ground to keep him placated. ("Misplaced guilt," Kakashi suggests, unprompted.) And then, when he finally moved out on his own, missions and long-running training sessions kept his menu simple and quick, mostly because he was too tired to mess with anything complicated. ("The way of the unmarried shinobi," Kakashi says, wisely.) Well, what did Kakashi expect, anyway, it wasn't like he even knew how to cook in the first place, what with his entire clan being murdered when he was only eight.

("Should've paid attention earlier, eh," Kakashi says, without looking up from his book.)

Sasuke thinks Kakashi is the only one who would ever dare joke about that in Sasuke's presence, and Kakashi knows he knows, so Kakashi ruffles his hair afterwards with some completely, utterly off-the-wall impression that a hair-ruffling will make it all better.

(It kind of does, but Sasuke will never admit it.)

Sasuke's never learned how to cook, but that doesn't stop him from trying.

When he's not bitching to Kakashi about his lack of culinary skills or dealing with the man's insufferably indifferent reaction, afternoons will find him in the kitchen, elbow-deep in recipes and ingredients and always, unbeknowst to him, wearing a helpless, aggravated sort of look. (That's assuming, of course, that Sasuke can find the recipes in the first place. Upon arrival, the first thing he did was bully Kakashi into doing was cleaning the house, and Kakashi took that to mean he should shove everything into cupboards and closets, because, as he reasoned, "it's clean if I can't see it.") The recipes look easy on paper, but Sasuke manages to screw them up anyway. ("There's a misdirection jutsu on this," Sasuke reasons out loud, "that's why I can't do it, there just has to be -- " and this is usually just before Kakashi smells whatever's burning and waltzes into the room, asking if he can take over now.) It's unfair, Sasuke thinks, that he can know what he wants, and yet somehow be unable to attain it anyway.

("Welcome to life," Kakashi says.)

If he glares hard enough at his pathetic attempt of a meal, he can usually avoid catching Kakashi's eye, and then he doesn't have to see his sensei's cheerful, infectuous beam, and then he won't have to fight off the reflex to let a warm glow settle in his stomach, seeing him happy like that.

Sasuke's never learned how to cook, so, in the end, he just lets Kakashi do it.

It's with a bitter, angry scowl that he finally chucks a pair of chopsticks at Kakashi's head, resigned to the fact that it's hopeless, and it's without even the blink of an eye that Kakashi catches them, turns the page of Icha Icha Paradise volume ten, and comments nonchalantly, "I never thought you'd be a quitter, Sasuke."

(Sasuke spent the next few moments sputtering incoherently, but he denies this later.)

That's how the story ends, really. (For the most part.) Kakashi enters the kitchen, doesn't look at a single recipe, and returns with a edible meal and enough for two, and then Sasuke complains, usually after the first bite fails to be horrible. (And therefore worse than his own.) If he's honest with himself, Sasuke's gained a certain new respect for Kakashi, because he's been on the other side of the plate and it's not easy to escape unscathed. (Sasuke escaped, of course, because he's Sasuke.) And really, Kakashi's dishes could be a lot worse, and he doesn't have to do the little things like he knows Sasuke likes, like a dash of sugar in his vegetables or extra miso in his soup. (He doesn't even have to cook for Sasuke at all, really.) At the end of all things, everything considered, Sasuke's actually grateful, but he doesn't show it and he definitely won't say as much, so whatever reluctant admiration he has for his sensei's cooking winds up manifesting itself in biting commentary during the course of the meal.

(Kakashi usually offers to teach him, before the specific recounts of where he went wrong but after the comparisons of his tempura to Pakkun's latest accident on the living room floor, and sometimes Sasuke tells Kakashi exactly what he thinks about Kakashi's placebos, but oftentimes, most of the time, he settles for giving Kakashi a disbelieving look, followed by an utterly matter-of-fact, "You are the worst teacher in the world.")

He always kisses Kakashi right afterwards, though, to take out the sting.

(And when Kakashi kisses back, it's full of forgiveness -- and that makes it worth it.)