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Aomine Daiki, professional athlete and ace of Japan’s national basketball team, doesn’t know how to cook, and Kagami Taiga, full-time firefighter at the local fire department, is left to suffer and literally put out the fire every single time.
Honestly, you’d think a guy with that much money would at least order take-out instead of trying (but failing miserably) to cook a meal with his poor, abused oven. Usually after one causes five oven fires in a row, they’d give up on cooking completely, but Aomine’s been adamant about trying over and over again. If the situation wasn’t so irritating and dangerous, he’d think the basketball player’s determination and persistence as an almost admirable trait.
But it was irritating, and it was incredibly dangerous.
“This is the fifth fire this month, Aomine,” Kagami scowls, having put out yet another oven fire started by the other. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re doing this on purpose. But I do know better: you just suck ass at cooking.”
“Shut the hell up,” Aomine groans, rubbing the back of his neck as he glares at the firefighter. “I can cook fine, okay? My stove is just messed up.”
“You stuck garlic bread in the oven and went to go take a nap!”
“It was boring waiting for it! And it wasn’t garlic bread, moron. It was rice.”
“That was rice?!” Kagami’s eyes widen to the point of comical. He’s not sure if it was the fire that managed to make the so-called rice look like garlic bread of all things, or if it was just the other’s inability to cook. “What the hell was in that?!”
“Meat, flour, sugar, uh, barbeque sauce.” Okay, so that makes more sense.
“You don’t put that stuff in with the rice!”
“Well shit, don’t have kittens. No one told me that.”
“It’s common knowledge, Ahomine!” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “One day you’re going to burn your place down for real,” he chides, taking in their crisped surroundings. The oven’s covered in foam from the fire extinguisher, just barely covering its smoked surface. To the right is Aomine’s counter, an unsuspecting victim left scarred and scorched in the oven’s fiery wrath.
Aomine must’ve noticed his fleeting gaze, for he too looks around. “It’s fine. I’ll just use the rice cooker next time.”
“Wait—you had it this whole time and didn’t use it?! What the hell did you think the rice cooker was for?”
“I dunno. To mix up pancake batter?”
As an experienced and—in his own opinion—excellent cook, Aomine’s lack of proper cooking knowledge hurts him on a deep, deep level.
He lets out a huff of frustration, counting to three before speaking in a hushed, angry voice, “You need to go to a cooking class before you actually burn this whole apartment down.”
“Don’t have time for it,” Aomine only yawns in response, sticking his hands in his pockets. Honestly, he’s all too casual for Kagami’s liking, and it pisses him off how the other seems to be treating this like a game of some sort. Someday Aomine’s going to seriously hurt someone else in his little kitchen fires, and that’s not something he wants to see.
Kagami growls, glaring at the other. “I don’t care! Either give up on cooking or actually learn how!”
Aomine’s head turns, cerulean meeting crimson in a half-lidded, contemplative stare, and it suddenly makes Kagami feel all too self-conscious. But he still doesn’t back down even with the feeling of the other’s scrutinizing gaze on him, continuing glare fiercely, sure. “Alright, alright. Then you teach me if you’re so good at it.” And then his hard demeanor breaks completely in the face of the bluenet’s unexpected words.
He’s absolutely positive that the words were meant as a form of mockery, but he doesn’t care. It’s his duty to protect people, and if that meant spending a little more time with Aomine just so he wouldn’t burn his kitchen down every time he even looked at the stove, then he would.
(It’s absolutely not because he wants to see Aomine again, he tells himself. That’s just an absurd thought. He’s doing this for the good of the people in Aomine’s apartment.)
“Fine. I’ll come by when you get a new stove. Don’t cook until I teach you how.”
After a few more minutes of bickering with Aomine and exchanging e-mails and phone numbers (though he doesn’t understand why it was a necessary process; they both decided their lesson would be on Friday), Kagami returns to the fire station, giddy and exhausted all at once.
(He tells himself that it’s the adrenaline from putting out the fire that’s making him feel this way, that there’s no way Aomine’s the reason why butterflies are currently fluttering around in his stomach. There’s no reason to be feeling this way over Aomine Daiki. Why would he like someone who can’t even chop vegetables?)
Much to his dismay, his co-worker, Takao, seems to pick up on his inner feelings, and sidles up to Kagami’s side, a sly, knowing smirk on his face.
“Tai-chan,” Takao sing-songs, exaggerating the last two syllables as he wraps an arm around Kagami’s shoulder (though considering Kagami’s height, he’s just barely reached it). “You look happy. Did something happen?”
“I’m not, and nothing happened,” he shrugs the shoulder off, convincing himself that nothing really did happen. “Also, I told you not to call me that.”
“Alright, alright… Tai-chan~”
“Gnnk—! I told you to stop that!”
“Right, right, sorry.”
“If you’re so sorry then quit laughing!”
This only serves to make Takao laugh harder, clutching onto his stomach as Kagami glares. Honestly, he’s still not sure how he got stuck with this guy.
One day he came in to work and Takao was there. It was Kagami’s job to train him, so he did (albeit a bit reluctantly once he realized what he was getting himself into). From the start, Takao was always cracking jokes, usually at Kagami’s expense. It annoyed him to no end, but over the time they spent together, he started getting used to it. He even came to miss it when the initial training period was over, but of course, that’s only because he didn’t expect Takao to still bug him even after training.
Finally, Takao’s laughter ceases, wiping tears from his eyes as Kagami scowls. “You done now?”
“Yeah,” he leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “You wanna tell me what your good mood’s about? Don’t tell me you got lucky, Tai-chan~.”
“S-shut up! I didn’t get lucky, you bastard! I was putting out the fire at Aomine’s house again!”
“Aomine’s house? That’s the fifth fire. Man, he’s even worse at cooking than Shin-chan is.”
“I know,” Kagami shakes his head, the memory of Aomine’s incompetence angering him once again. “That’s why I’m going to teach him this Friday.”
Once the words are out of his mouth he immediately regrets it, hoping and praying that Takao won’t put two plus two together and make weird assumptions like he’s been prone to doing in the past. Please, please, please—
“What?” Takao shoots off the wall, eyes bright and mischievous as he laughs loudly. “That’s why you’re in such a good mood, huh? You got a date!”
His hands shoots up, covering the smaller male’s mouth with it as he looks around to make sure no one heard him. “Keep it down, you bastard! It’s not a date!”
Completely disregarding his words, Takao’s size finally proves itself useful, ducking underneath Kagami’s arm and evading the taller as he runs around like a child. “Haha, this is great! Tai-chan has a date~!”
“Shut up! It’s not a date!”
“Hold on, I gotta text Shin-chan about your date~”
“Takao, I’ll kill you!”
Kagami arrives at Aomine’s house on Friday right on time, knocking on the door and waiting. He dressed casual for their lesson with a long-sleeved dark red t-shirt and dark jeans to go along, making sure to choose carefully as Takao’s words rang in his head.
This is not a date, he reminds himself firmly as if simply repeating it in his head will convince not only himself but everyone around him. If it was a date, I’d be dressing up a lot nicer.
Finally, Aomine opens the door, and Kagami’s eyes drift down to take in the other’s appearance without his brain’s consent. He’s wearing a dark blue muscle tank top that show off his arms incredibly well, and grey basketball shorts that are hanging a little too loose off his hips, leaving Kagami’s imagination to run wild, especially when Aomine stretches and yawns, and he can see traces of dark blue hair running towards—and nope, not going there.
“Oi, my eyes are up here,” he looks up only to find Aomine smirking right at him, and it brings a faint blush to his cheeks as he realizes he’d been caught staring.
Not a date, not a date.
The door opens further, a silent invitation, and Kagami shoves past the other as he makes his way inside, ignoring the tingling sensation that Aomine’s touch brought.
Not a date.
Silently, he makes his way over to the kitchen, eyebrow raising at the admittedly impressive set-up. He’s never seen Aomine’s kitchen without it being nearly burnt down to a crisp, but even then he knew that the basketball player had an incredible set-up. This is partly why he’s so annoyed with Aomine: he has a kitchen any chef would kill for, but here he is, wasting it away with his delusional stubborn pride, insisting that he can actually cook a proper meal.
Kagami turns, not surprised at all to see Aomine standing there watching him. “What’s your favorite meal? I’ll teach you how to cook it.”
“Teriyaki burgers.”
“Why not cheese burgers?”
Aomine squints accusingly at him, as if Kagami’s preferences in burgers offends him on an emotional and spiritual level. “You’re American, aren’t you?”
“That has nothing to do with this! Cheese burgers are just better,” he rolls his eyes at the other’s antics (even if Aomine’s correct accusation surprised him; was it that obvious he lived in America for half of his life?), making his way over to the fridge and opening it, blinking in surprise at the lack of food in it. “Your fridge is empty, idiot.”
“Hah? I have stuff in there,” Aomine defends as he walks over to him and peers into the fridge, standing all too close to Kagami. “Look, I got some mayo, and a pickle’s in there, and look at that—I even got some milk.”
(Kagami tries his best to ignore their close proximity, tries his best to ignore the way his breath hitches in response. He tries his best to ignore the way his heart pounds madly in his chest, the way his cheeks flush simply from Aomine’s touch.
This is not a date.)
“It looks like it’s been left there to rot for years!”
“The hell are you talking about? I got it like two months ago.”
“That’s even worse!”
When he agreed to teach Aomine how to cook, he didn’t know that he was also agreeing to buying groceries for him.
It took ten minutes of arguing and actually physically restraining Aomine to actually throw away all of the food in his fridge (it’s perfectly fine, he said despite the rotting mold that came from the milk jar, threatening to infect his whole fridge with its deadly germs), and then six more minutes to get him to actually come with him to the store. The shopping trip took an extra twenty minutes, what with Aomine putting unnecessary items into the cart like a five year old child and Kagami having to act like his mother and put it back every single time.
(Aomine’s ignorance is irritating, but also slightly endearing. It’s like teaching a baby how to walk. Their legs are shaky and wobbly, and you have to hold onto their hands to help them, but when they finally get it, finally walk those few steps on their own, it’s the most rewarding and beautiful thing.
But he’s sure he definitely doesn’t like Aomine.
Not one bit.)
By the time they get back to Aomine’s house, Kagami’s ready to collapse and sleep for the rest of his life. He’d do it too, but this wasn’t his house, and he’s not going to pass out at some stranger’s house (no matter how good-looking said stranger may be)
Making his way back to the kitchen, he stocks the fridge with the newly bought groceries, leaving the ingredients for the burgers out. He quickly goes through the list of things to do, reciting it to Aomine in an almost robotic fashion like he’s done this a billion times before (which he has, he’s just never taught anyone). Once Aomine reassures him that he’s got it, Kagami steps back—albeit a little reluctantly— and watches the other as he attempts to cook.
But it’s not even a minute in and Aomine’s already making a mess of things, mixing in things he’s shouldn’t ever mix together, attempting to grill the buns of all things.
“Stop! You’re doing it wrong, Ahomine,”Kagami groans, his irritation entirely too obvious.
Aomine’s probably a little annoyed too by now, glaring at Kagami with a lethal look on his face. “If you’re so fucking good at it, then you do it, Bakagami!”
Challenge accepted.
Without another word, the red-head pushes Aomine over to the side, sighing in pity as he looks down at the ruined ingredients. We just bought them too… Oh well, he’ll have to make do with what’s left. They may not have as many burgers to eat now as they originally planned, but they would at least have something.
He continues making the burgers in silence, finding it odd that Aomine’s suddenly silent. Somewhat concerned, he briefly looks over at the other, his heart stopping all at once as he locks eyes with the devil.
There’s a certain intensity in the atmosphere, a heated buzz sizzling around them, dripping and oozing tension. It’s impossible for him to look away right now, not with the way Aomine’s cerulean eyes seem to be glazed over, filled with raw desire and… is that a hint of lust?
Gulping, he turns back to the burgers and attempts to act like he never saw that look on Aomine’s face. But it’s engraved into his memory, into his soul. He can still feel Aomine’s penetrating gaze burning into the back of his head, and he so desperately wants to turn around and kiss the hell out of him.
This is not a date, not a date.
Fortunately for Kagami, he’s nearly done the burgers. Their time is up, and after this, he can just get out of there and forget all about Aomine Daiki.
(But why is there a part of him that’s somewhat… disappointed by that?)
He turns the heat of the stove down all the way down, setting the patties aside to cool. There’s something in the way his heart almost aches that makes him want to break down, makes him feel faint and dizzy. What is happening to him?
When he turns around, Aomine’s dangerously close. Their chests are nearly touching, hips almost brushing against the others. He can’t breathe, can’t think of anything else other than Aomine, Aomine, Aomine.
(It’s intoxicating him. Aomine’s intoxicating him almost like an accidental drug. He’s not sure when he physically took the drug, but he did at some point, and now he’s hooked. So very, very, addicted.)
Clearing his throat, Kagami looks away, “Burgers are finished. I’m gonna go now.”
Aomine says nothing in response, and he briefly wonders what’s going on in that head of his. Is he relieved that Kagami’s finally leaving him alone? Or… is he sad and disappointed?
Yeah, right… he laughs bitterly in his head, internally rolling his own eyes at his naivety. Aomine probably doesn’t even care.
“You should know from watching me how to cook the burgers,” Kagami continues after a few more moments of silence, still not looking at him. He’s afraid of what he might do if he does, afraid that he’ll lean forward and press his lips against Aomine’s, those sinful, tempting lips…
“I forgot.”
What?
Finally looking back at the other, he growls, sending a furious glare Aomine’s way. “What do you mean you forgot?! I thought you were watching me cook the burgers!” He’s almost livid. All that time he spent trying to teach Aomine, and Aomine didn’t even bother to remember his instructions.
“Yeah, I was watching.” Suddenly, Aomine’s too close. He can feel the other’s cool breath hitting his cheek, a vague smell of the spearmint gum he picked up at the grocery store. Aomine joked around, holding it up with a cheeky grin and saying, you never know when you’re gonna need it. But… that… didn’t mean…? “I was watching you.”
Oh.
Oh.
The revelation sends his mind into a frenzy, and he barely recognizes that Aomine’s face is coming closer and closer until their lips are almost touching.
“Is this—is this a date?” he breathes out with a look akin to realization and shock. All that time he spent convincing himself that this wasn’t a date, when it really, truly was.
“Yeah, it is, moron,” Aomine chuckles, and if his hands didn’t slide up to hold him around the waist, Kagami’s sure his knees would’ve buckled at the sound. “Thought you would’ve picked that up by now. I didn’t get lessons or take-out because… I dunno. Guess I liked seeing your stupid angry face whenever you put the fire out.”
His mouth opens to yell at the other, unaware that that’s probably what he wants, but he can’t get a word out. Aomine took the opportunity to plant a deep, long kiss to his lips. Bastard…
It truly is a good thing that Aomine has a firm hold on him because he can already feel his knees wobble just slightly. Growling a bit into the kiss, he wraps his arms around the other’s neck, returning the kiss with the same amount of intensity as Aomine’s. When he feels a tongue rub against his own, he can briefly taste the spearmint gum, bringing on a feeling of self-consciousness. Hopefully his own breath didn’t smell bad or anything…
After a few more moments of kissing, he pulls away, panting softly as he knocks his forehead against Aomine’s a little too roughly. “Idiot. Next time ask me out on a proper date instead of making me get you groceries.”
Aomine only smirks, a smug look on his face as an eyebrow rises at the opportunity. “Next time, huh? Damn, so eager. I know I’m hot and all but…”
The red-head rolls his eyes, glaring lightly at the other. “Shut up and get off your high horse, moron. You still suck at cooking.”
“Who needs to learn how to cook when they got you?”
“I’m not here to be your personal chef, Ahomine!”
“Right, you’re also here for me to eat.”
“D-don’t stick your tongue in my ear! And don’t say such perverted things with a straight face, you bastard!”
“What, you don’t like it?” Aomine pauses, brows furrowing in confusion. “Hey, Kagami, you smell something?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t smell anything.”
As Aomine looks around the other, he suddenly pulls away moments after, leaving Kagami confused and somewhat disappointed. His questions and wonders as to the reason why Aomine suddenly retreated are soon answered after, however, when he smells it: the smell of something burning behind him.
And of course, it’s his shirt that caught on fire.
“Damn it, Ahomine! This is all your fault!”
“My fault? What the hell are you talking about?! You’re the one who didn’t turn off the stove properly, Bakagami!”
“It’s ‘cause it’s your oven! Hurry the hell up and get a fire extinguisher!”
“I don’t have one.”
“You cause like ten billion oven fires and you don’t have a fucking fire extinguisher?!”
“I didn’t think I’d need one!”
“I’m actually going to kill you later!”
They do, eventually, manage to put the fire out without any major injuries (though Aomine’s cheek can’t say the same), but at a price: the ends of Kagami’s shirt got burnt to a crisp (Aomine tries to tell him it looks hot, but Kagami shuts him up with a deadly glare every time).
And so, seven months later, when Aomine asks (more like demands, but he can see a hint of nervousness and hesitation) Kagami to move in with him, he accepts.
The first thing Kagami unpacks from his boxes is a fire extinguisher.