Title: In Which Hikaru Learns that Domesticity is So Overrated

Author: SVZ

Fandom: Hikaru no Go

Pairing: Touya/Shindou (implied)

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own Hikaru no Go

Summary: Adventures in Cooking with Touya Akira!

In Which Hikaru Learns that Domesticity is So Overrated

When Touya invites him over to his place, Hikaru thinks it would be something like his house—intimidatingly big, neat and orderly, and maybe some bonsai plants scattered about the living room and a koi pond outside.

Instead, Hikaru finds himself gawking at the small, run-down apartment with peeling wallpaper and a mess that would make his mother cry. Touya’s taste in furniture, apparently, mirrors his taste in fashion—ugly, old-fashioned, and really really sad.

“It’s not like I need anything bigger,” Touya tells him, stepping out of his shoes. He makes a vague gesture at the guest slippers near the door. “Oh, sorry about the mess. Ashiwara sometimes comes over to cook and clean a bit. He says that I need to buy a something more modern and hip.”

“Uh,” Hikaru’s still picking up his jaw from the floor at this point. “Um, it suits you.”

“Really?” Oh, and this the part where Hikaru regrets saying anything because Touya’s now smiling at him and shit, why did he have to say that? “I’m glad. I kinda like it. It has certain flair.”

Hikaru tries his best not to look at the couch which could have been nice if it hadn’t been, well, vintage pink pleather. He wonders if Touya had stolen it from some cheesy love hotel. “So, where’s your kitchen?”

Touya nods. “Right, you said you were hungry.” He carefully leads Hikaru through the living room, side-stepping a stack of yellowing newspapers. “I haven’t gone grocery shopping for a while,” he confesses, looking a bit sheepish. “But I think I have some instant ramen.”

“Oh.” Hikaru surveys the cramped kitchen. “You can make instant ramen?”

“Sometimes.”

“Touya? That was a yes or no question.”

“Well, it usually turns out okay. But sometimes it doesn’t. There was this one time when Ashiwara wasn’t around and I had just come back from a game and I decided that some shrimp ramen would be a great idea but I guess I must have forgotten how long to cook it because I nearly set the kitchen on fire.”

Hikaru makes a strangled sound. “Touya, you add hot water. Instant ramen usually comes in a cup. How the hell did you manage to do that?”

“I might have been a bit preoccupied. I was thinking of my match that day.”

“… Okay then.” Hikaru takes a deep breath. “Touya, you cook. I watch. Cooking is a life skill and you can’t depend on Ashiwara to do all your cooking, you know.”

Understandably, Touya looks very startled. “I guess you’re right. Think I should learn how to do my own laundry too? The last time I tried, I managed to turn all my white shirts pink.”

Somehow, Hikaru’s not surprised. He tries to be nice by not replying with I don’t think anyone but you would have noticed. “One thing at a time, Touya. One thing at a time.” He rifles through Touya’s cupboards to find a package of chicken ramen that's not two years past its sell-by date. “Here. Cook.”

Hikaru leans back and watches Touya bustle about and hum off-key while being all domestic-like. It is almost endearing. Until he notices that wasabi and hot mustard have somehow managed to come into Touya’s grasps.

He blinks. Once, twice. Still there.

“Uh, Touya?”

“Mmm?”

“What’s with the—“ Hikaru gestures towards the bottles in his hands.

“Oh, that.” Touya smiles. “For flavoring.” He rummages through the fridge (Hikaru notes that it’s almost empty except for a couple of rotting, sad-looking vegetables) and pulls out a block of what looked like, god help him, cheese of all things. “And texture.”

For a few moments, Hikaru wonders what sort of texture cheese would provide. He’s jolted back to reality when Touya tries to add it (whole) to the bubbling noodles at the stove.

Hikaru has never moved so fast in his life.

“Don’t!” He gently shoves Touya’s hand away and forces a grin at his boyfriend’s bemused expression. “Uh, I don’t think cheese is what you need for flavor. Or texture. Whatever. You know what? Let’s order out.”

“But you said you wanted to make sure I could cook.” Touya looks confused. It’s adorable and frightening at the same time. Hikaru wants to beat his head against the wall, but restrains himself.

“We can do that later. I just had a sudden craving for sushi, and we can’t make that here, can we?” Hikaru crosses his fingers behind his back. Dear god, he hopes Touya is not under the illusion that he can whip up sushi equipped with only wasabi, a bruised tomato, and a block of cheese. He wouldn't put it past him.

“Okay.” Touya frowns. “But do you think you can teach me how to do laundry?”

Hikaru flashes him a grin. “Of course.” He inwardly sighs with relief. How hard could it be to teach Touya Akira how to separate his whites and colors?

END