Ryou was grouchy.
It’s nothing Bakura hadn’t seen, but he was the renowned grouch between them and he preferred it that way.
Why he decided on attempting to cook anything would help, he had no idea. Why Ryou agreed to let him even touch the stove and cookware, or didn’t question Bakura’s odd insistence on Ryou going to Yugi’s a while, was somewhat alarming.
No matter, he got what he wanted and only fuelled his desire to not fail. All he needed to do was not ruin Ryou’s treasured cookware.
‘At least maybe he’ll get a laugh out of it, even if I fail miserably.’ Bakura thought, proceeding to sneer at nothing as if directing it at the very thought he’d just had.
He decided on pancakes, specifically drawing a duel monster on the pan. That couldn’t be too difficult, right? It wasn’t until he was digging the last bit of eggshell out of the bowl of batter that he realized it was evening.
‘Screw it, a meal is a meal.’
Once the batter was mixed and a quick doodle in sharpie made to get an idea of what he’d draw, he turned on the stove-top to low (he was not about to smoke out the kitchen already) and set the pan he’d already slathered in butter on the burner.
With a precision only a defunct thief could accomplish, Bakura drew the outline of his creation with batter on a spoon. He decided to try the outline of Change of Heart, simple yet complex enough to be worthy of showing off.
Satisfied with how it looked, he pulled out a seal-able bag to put a portion of the batter into. Sure, Ryou had piping bags, but Bakura didn’t want to use those.
Bakura filled the bag, sealed it, and sliced a tiny corner off the bag. The batter started to slowly spill, and Bakura hissed as he quickly transferred it to dribble in the pan.
‘A few dribbles, no problem. Still got it!’ Bakura smirked as he filled in the wings.
As he was finishing the dress, he squeezed the bag a bit too hard and the seal popped open, spilling the bags contents over his lines. “Dammit!” Bakura hissed, glaring at the blob with wings.
“Gods! Fine, Winged Kuriboh, I still have this...”
Bakura tossed the bag into the sink, quickly cleaning the batter that covered his hands and part of his shirt. Seeing the flecks of batter still stuck in the fabric, Bakura frowned. ‘Whatever, not my problem.’
Once he was clean (enough), the heat was turned up to let the pancake cook. Last minute, Bakura decided to shred a bit of cheese to make it look like fur. At least he could try to make it look intentional. He growled at the pan as bits of cheese landed directly on the heat and began to bubble.
No matter, as long as he flipped it right.
Bakura froze, realizing he didn’t know where the spatula was. The pancake would start to burn soon, so he ransacked every drawer until he could find what he was looking for.
As soon as he tried to lift the pancake, he realized this would not be an easy task. What batter still remained uncooked followed gravity when trying to lift it.
He flipped quickly, and cursed again seeing half a wing broke off. He quickly flipped it and tried adding more batter to help keep it stuck, his nose wrinkled in concentration.
Bakura pointedly ignored the obvious outline burnt on what was an already partially burned pancake.
‘I’m going to make the bloody Pharaoh next and tear off his head with my teeth!’
He seethed as he watched the pan, but refused to admit defeat. He realized he couldn’t be bothered to try drawing the Pharaoh, already annoyed by how much his plans had been altered, so he decided on drawing something he enjoyed: steak.
Despite the difficulty with the pan much warmer than it had been on low, he managed to make an okay drawn pancake. He glared at it as he added cheese, before dumping the rest he’d shredded into the batter itself.
‘This was supposed to make Ryou happier, not me.’
His frustration peaked when he somehow managed to make perfectly cooked, round pancakes with the rest of the batter. He glared upward, feeling mocked by the Gods that for whatever reason allowed his return.
Bakura cooled down from his anger by washing the dishes he’d used up by hand, refusing to leave the burned mess he’d made on the pan to the dishwasher. The simple repetitive motions in cleaning helped soothe him anyway.
Before he could even try one of the pancakes, he heard the signs of Ryou at the front door.
He rushed to put away the dried utensils, then grabbed the first place mats he could see and set their plates, Bakura’s at the head of the table and Ryou’s where it could be clearly be seen from the kitchen entrance.
“Smells good in here Bakura!” Ryou called out, making Bakura rush to place the cutlery so Ryou could just sit and eat with him right away.
Bakura tasted a bit of his own pancake, and relaxed somewhat knowing it tasted fine. He slumped lazily in his chair, pretending he wasn’t at all fazed by the ordeal of making pancakes. He waited a moment to listen for Ryou passing the kitchen before calling out.
“Better not have eaten over there, I made dinner.”
Ryou popped his head around the doorway, raising an eyebrow. “You made...I thought you were making yourself something.”
Bakura could still see Ryou’s grouchiness hadn’t faded, and nudged the empty seat with his foot. “Whatever, it’s for you so it’s yours.”
A spark of amusement flashed in Ryou’s eyes a moment, before he approached the table. The moment he spotted the contents of the plate, Ryou smiled and covered his mouth.
A stifled giggle. “What is it?”
“Cheese pancakes, one’s a Winged Kuriboh, just eat–”
Ryou burst out in a fit of giggles, and Bakura glared at his boyfriend. The glare was difficult to hold, seeing the mirthful look in return as Ryou tried to stop laughing.
“I-It’s...so c-CUTE!” Ryou barked a laugh, and Bakura sneered to cover the smile creeping on his face.
“Oh shut up, I’ll put it–”
“Okay! Okay, I’ll eat it, don’t worry.” Ryou stifled more giggles as he sat down, smiling wider when Bakura nudged his knee with his foot.
Ryou pretended he didn’t see Bakura’s expression soften to something more fond, and Bakura pretended he wasn’t as relieved as he was to see such a broad smile on Ryou’s face.
Ryou took the first bite, and then another, before standing once he swallowed his mouthful. “Needs syrup, even if it’s cheese.”
He paused a moment, then leaned down to kiss Bakura’s cheek. “Thank you Bakura, this was a nice surprise.”
Bakura fought down the butterflies at the abrupt kiss, and could feel his cheeks heating up. He grumbled out a ‘whatever’ before stuffing his mouth again, as if to hide the emerging smile on his face.
All was as it should be again.