#domesdick 💀💀💀

[aangelinakii]

BREADWINNER.

— ( try not to ) kiss the cook.

summary : you spend a morning with your boyfriend while he cooks breakfast, and you try so desperately not to kiss him. but that's what the apron says, right?

not proofread !

as your eyes flickered open, pulled away from slumber, the sickly sweet aroma of burnt sugar wafted through your senses. bringing a lazy hand to rub at your sandy eyes, you glanced over at the space next to you. the bedding had been left messy where he'd left you, warmth still radiating from where he'd slept there.

with a groan as you stretched out your achingly tired limbs, you pulled yourself to your feet, your toes drinking in the plushness of the slippers angled perfectly next to your side of the bed.

trudging out of the bedroom, slippers softening the blows of your feet on the floorboards, you followed your nose to the kitchen, where your boyfriend stood in front of the stove, back turned to you.

from here, with the pale sunlight slipping through the blinds, every crevice lining his back pulled you further into the room. his shoulders were wide and angular, the product of his line of work, and years of gymnastic training. despite the smoothness of his skin, owning a soft glow in the morning light, he had a few scars here and there; one that stood out to you sat along his lower back, that you now made a conscious effort not to touch once you'd done so before and he flinched.

on his lower half he donned blue plaid pyjama trousers – a pair that he wasn't wearing when he'd gone to sleep with you the night before. as sunny as the mornings were, they were also chilly.

but what was new about this morning attire was the pink ribbon tied in a bow just above the scar on his lower back. where'd this come from?

"good morning, handsome," you hummed as you leaned against the kitchen table, voice still raspy from waking up.

surprised by the sound of your voice, dick's quiet humming of frank sinatra songs cut short, and he spun around to face you, one hand still holding his spatula. "hey!"

your eyes roamed the new addition to his outfit; the pink apron covering his toned chest, protecting his torso from any food stains or burns. right in the middle, in a lace-adorned white heart, wrote the words kiss the cook! in italic lettering. no need to tell you twice.

his lips pulled up into a bashful grin. "i wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed."

at the sweet sincerity of his words, your lips pulled up, too, and you slowly approached. stepping closer to him, you snaked an arm around his waist, perching your chin on one of those broad shoulders of his, and he turned back around to work on the sugary pancakes in his frying pan.

"i mean, i'm still surprised," you chuckled, watching from over his shoulder as he skilfully flipped over the pancake. "you didn't have to do all this."

"i know," dick replied, voice somewhat small and soft. from where you stood, chest pressed to his back, you could feel his words vibrate through his body as he spoke, rumbling with adoration. "but i know you've had a rough week, so i wanted to do something nice."

your gaze flickered from the creamy, sizzling pancake in the frying pan, up to his face. you could only see about a quarter of it from your view, but that one quarter filled you with warmth, sweet, sweet warmth.

the curve of his soft cheek, and the way his long eyelashes fluttered with each blink. the angle of his nose, and the way it subtly hooked; a part he was more insecure about, but something you loved. he hadn't done his hair yet since waking up, so his raven locks sprouted out every which way; messy, but in an almost intricate way.

with the hum of a lovesick chuckle, you pressed your lips softly against dick's cheek. "you patrol the streets every day. i should be doing something like this for you."

once you pulled away, your free hand moving from your side to cup his other shoulder, thumb caressing soft lines against his skin, your eyes caught sight of the faint pink tinge gracing what you could see of his cheek. beneath your hand, the muscles in his shoulder moved, as he brought both up in a bashful shrug.

"sure, but i wanted to do this for you."

he took a step back, and you unattached yourself from him, and he moved the pancake from the pan onto a plate, which had been stacked with a few already.

"take these to the table, will you?" he suggested, sending a glance back your way.

manoeuvring around him, you pulled the two pancake-ridden plates from the counter beside him, and moved them onto the table, placing each at opposite chairs, so you could look at each other as you ate.

when dick joined you, taking his place on the other side of the table, he'd brought over cutlery and a bottle of maple syrup.

with a sigh, he moved his arms behind him, readying to untie his apron, but you weren't ready for it to go so soon.

"hey!" you gasped, mouth half-full of maple-drenched pancake already. "what do you think you're doing?"

he'd frozen in the middle of removing the apron when you spoke, his expression a combination of shock and puzzlement. "getting.. ready to eat?" he replied, more of a question than a statement.

"and you think you can just take off the apron?" a laugh brushed past your teeth as you chewed your breakfast.

after a moment of bewildered silence, dick gave a shrug, his muscles tensing. "yeah?"

you swallowed the food – delicious, by the way – and leaned forward in your seat, arms outstretched to pull the loop back over his head, a grin on your lips. "we need to know who made this amazing breakfast."

once realising what you're talking about, dick reversed his movements behind his back, and began retying the bow of his apron, a small smile on his lips.

"and look at that," you hummed, pointing at his chest in feigned surprise. "the apron is basically forcing me to give my compliments to the chef."

at this, dick's smile revealed his shining white teeth, his boyishly cute laugh accompanying it. and, as you leaned closer, his eyes closed, lips meeting yours in the middle for a short embrace.

when you pulled away, moving back in your seat to resume eating, your boyfriend gave a chuckle, and you glanced up, shovelling some more of your breakfast into your mouth. "what's up?"

"your lips are sticky," he grinned, glancing away from you.

unconsciously, your tongue flicked out between your lips, and you shook your head bashfully.

"just shut up and eat your breakfast."