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Atsushi had always been an early riser. He supposed it was a leftover habit from his time at the orphanage, but compared to other lingering traits, he found that this was one that actually benefited him. Warmth curled around his body, with the mishmash of blankets he lay underneath trapping the heat further. He slowly blinked his eyes open, feeling the resistance from the crust accumulated in the corner of his eyes.
As the beams of sunlight from the window reached his eyes, it was like a switch had been flipped in his body. Being mindful to the other man that was snuggled beside him, he stretched his limbs, feeling the pent-up tension from sleeping leave his body as he extended them further.With a renewed sense of clarity overcoming his mind, he quiet removed the blankets that he had been wrapped in, flipping them to the inside of the bed without hitting the sleeping mafioso.
Silently, he crept his way to the bathroom and began his morning routine. After washing his face with an expensive face wash Akutagawa had given him due to his… unorthodox bathing habits, he brushed his teeth, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he placed his toothbrush in the same holder as another. A simple, seemingly insignificant reminder that he had found a place to truly call a home.
After wiping the excess water off the marble countertop, he cautiously meandered his way into the kitchen, closing each door stealthily as he traversed. He glanced at the microwave, its red numbers contrasting against the absence of fluorescent lighting.
5:53 it announced, leaving Atsushi with plenty of time to prepare for his departure at 7:45. He walked to the edge of the wall, running his hand up against it to turn the lights on and begin his work in the kitchen. Seeing as he had time to spare, he quickly decided on two goals; make breakfast, and pack lunch. Cooking had been an area in which he aspired to improve. He didn’t quite have the catastrophic reputation that his mentor had when it came to culinary skills, no, the agency actually allowed him to touch a stove. However, he didn’t slowly accumulate skills like his peers would have, as there was no family dinner to pitch in for every night in his childhood. Rather, a designed, compulsory meal that was attended to to fill the most basic requirement for childcare.
He made his way over to the cabinets, deciding it would be better to get lunch out of the way first as his other half had yet to wake. That way, the food would still be hot when he arose from his desperately needed slumber. Humming, he grabbed two sandwich baggies and placed them on the granite island, before returning for the lunchboxes resting side by side in the cabinet, a familiar groan in the hinge greeting him as he shut the door. His movements flowed seamlessly as he retrieved the peanut butter and jelly from the fridge before placing two pieces of whole grain toast in the slots of the toaster before pulling the handle, repeating the process twice so it yielded the appropriate serving. Finally, he had everything he needed left out on the island, save for some snacks he would pack later.
He continued to hum contentedly as he began his work, unintentionally muffling the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Weretiger, what on earth are you doing?” the mafioso questioned with a scowl, voice slightly raspy from dehydration.
“Oh! Good Morning! I didn’t hear you wake up! Uh… I’m just making us sandwiches to pack for lunch!” Atsushi turned to the other with a hesitant smile, uncomfortably aware that the other could slice him into pieces if his mood determined. Subconsciously, he raised the baggies and lunch boxes he was preparing as a form of evidence.
“Atsushi, I’m aware that you’re an animal at heart, but this is absolutely unacceptable. I can’t believe Dazai-san would allow this behavior”
A silver eyebrow furrowed.
“Making lunch… for your boyfriend.. who lives with you??” he questioned with a puzzled expression matching his tone.
“No not that, Chuu-” he stopped, seemingly cutting himself off, as if he was about to disclose something that was confidential. “He’d have no issue with that, he's brought lunch from home before, I’m sure of it. That. That is the issue.” Akutagawa gestured to the open sandwich, with peanut butter and jelly mixed on one piece of bread, and a blank piece of toast on the other.
“I don’t- what’s the issue?”
Akutagawa groaned audibly.
“You don’t put the peanut butter and jelly on the same side weretiger, you put jelly on one side, then peanut butter on the other, THEN you put the two pieces of bread together. Honestly, I thought even a fool like yourself would figure that out.”
“But it doesn’t even make a difference! They get mixed together all the same!”
“You’re an utterly hopeless fool, how could you disregard the process altogether? Can’t you get it through your head, if you just slap it on one piece of bread, you’ll never get the proportions correct. At the end of the day, you’ll end up with a sad, soggy sandwich, a consequence of your thoughtless act. You’ll disappointedly eat your dreadful creation, realizing it draws a stark parallel to your own dismal life.”
The aforementioned weretiger blinked slowly in befuddlement.
“It’s going to taste the same. When it’s packed up, you won't see the difference.”
Grey eyes shot daggers into heterochromic ones.
“I’ll know”, the mafioso replied, venom laced in his tone.
Atsushi rolled his eyes, not seeing the point nor the significance in the argument.
“Look, I’ll make yours the way you’d like it, and I’ll give the extra one to Dazai-san, how does that sound?”
If looks could kill, Atsushi would be a dead man by now.
“No”
“He won’t know! He won’t even realize the difference; he'll just be happy about the free food!” He pleaded his case with exasperation.
“It’s not good enough for him, he’ll never respect me if he knew that vile sandwich came from our household.”
Atsushi’s eyebrows dropped, as well as his will to argue. He let out an exasperated sigh, before rubbing the bridge of his nose and suggesting a new idea.
“Why don’t we call him and ask him how he makes them?”
“No”
“Please? I’m tired of arguing with you over everything and he’s kinda the mediator for us” Atsushi plead.
Another groan. “Fine, but if he agrees with me you are never making us PB&J’s again.”
“Really? Are you serious” he questioned as he examined the other's expression.
Oh, he was dead serious.
“Fine” Atsushi sighed, “I’ll dial him right now”
Seven texts and five missed calls later, they finally had a hold of the elusive bandaged man.
“Hello?” a gruff voice responded through the phone speaker, a slight annoyance at being woken up audible in its tone.
“Ah, um, Good Morning!”
“Why are you calling me this early my dear student, I’ll have you know you interrupted my beauty sleep” the man responded dramatically, as if he had remembered he had an image to keep up with, no matter how embarrassing it was.
“Oh uh… it's a bit of a weird question, but I needed your opinion on something” he responded nervously, pale fingers tapping against the phone.
“Is Akutagawa there?”
Atsushi’s face turned bright red. He’d been caught dead in his tracks.
“Yes, but he can't hear you.” he hissed back.
“Alright, how can I amend this lover’s quarrel?”
“How do you make a PB&J??”
To prove he wouldn’t lie about the answer, Atsushi swiftly changed the call to speakerphone.
“Oh, a PB&J? I haven’t had one of those in a while. I just make them like anyone else would.”
“Yes, but how do you do that? Do you put the jelly on one side, or the peanut butter on both sides and then put the jelly in the middle, or do you just spread them on the same piece of bread?”
A brief silence came over the phone as the duo hesitantly waited for the answer that would settle their feud.
“Huh?”
Atsushi raised his eyebrow, he thought he’d been pretty straightforward with his query.
“Well, what method do you use to make it?”
“I uh… wait, why would you have to separate the peanut butter from the jelly? It comes from the same jar?” he responded, a genuine confusion palpable in his voice, as if one could sense the eyebrows furrowing over the phone.
Their faces lit up in synchronized horror.