prompt: Osamu and (Y/n) cook dinner together

warning: none

word count: 561

.・-: ✧ :-　second-person point of view　-: ✧ :-・．

With a deep breath, you poured some olive oil into a clean skillet, setting in on a small flame from your stove. You heard the sound of a knife clicking against a cutting board. In a matter of moments, someone came up from behind you and pushed finely chopped garlic into the pan. With attentive eyes, you watched as the garlic grew darker. Steam began to drift off the metal.

You stepped away from the stove, reaching for the bowl of chopped tofu that rested on the kitchen counter. You emptied the bowl's contents into the pan. You traded the bowl for a wooden spoon, observing how carefully your kitchen partner covered the tofu in soy sauce. You prodded at the cooking ingredients with the spoon, making sure things were evenly heating up. As mushrooms were added to the mix, you felt a hand warm hand cover yours, easily wrapping around your entire hand. 

He guided your hand, showing you how to properly saute. He peered down at you with a small smile of unadulterated affection. Suddenly, he stepped away, to tend to the rest of the recipe. You stirred in greens and spices, then attempted to mimic the motions He had showed you. You heard the sound of two plates clicking against the counter, each with a scoop of brown rice atop them.

"Do you think it's done yet?" You wondered. He stepped closer, to look over your shoulder.

"Not yet," He told you. You nodded your head, keeping a close eye on the skillet. You moved the ingredients around, unsure what else to do. You felt the man behind you watch your movements carefully. You felt your face grow warmer and not from the heat of the stove.

"Don't breathe down my neck like that, Osamu!" You scolded him.

"I'm not," He defended himself with a smile. "I just want to make sure you're not gonna burn it."

"That's what I meant," You clarified, turning your eyes to glance at him. "There's pressure now! You're a professional." Osamu chuckled, shaking his head.

"Babe, I just want dinner," He told you with a shrug.

"Here, you do it!" You insisted, handing him the wooden spoon. With an amused sigh, Osamu switched places with you. You watched his focused expression as he turned over every green leaf, tofu cube, and mushroom slice. The savory smell of the dish filled the kitchen, almost making your mouth water. Though, your dinner wasn't the only hot and tasty thing in the kitchen.

Osamu was the only man for you and you both knew it well. When you first met him a few years ago, you thought he was all serious and composed. Though, you quickly realized appearances can be deceiving. Nevertheless, he was everything you had been wanting since you knew what love was. And Osamu knew how to treat you right.

Suddenly, he felt your arms wrap around his waist snugly. He stiffened from surprise but quickly relaxed into your touch.

"I cook all day at work and then come home to you only to cook more," Osamu snarkily remarked.

"Well, I wasn't doing a good enough job for someone," You responded, resting your face against his strong back. "Besides, you love cooking." Osamu hummed, reaching over to turn off the stove. "I love you," You purred, running your hands up and down his torso.

"I love you too," Osamu said, turning around to kiss you chastely. "Now let's eat, I'm starving."