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Kayn didn’t know when his husband’s oddly suspicious late night activities first began, but it had apparently become something he was going to have to get used to as he listened in secretly one day to the sound of soft, almost audible slippers sliding on old wooden floor panels. The tapping was barely noticeable as they walked away from the bed in gentle strides, letting the taller man know Ezreal was doing his best to keep whatever had him up at such hours hidden from him. The hockey player wasn’t necessarily worried about his lover’s short-lived escapades—it just seemed strange for the figure skater to not involve him in whatever he was doing.
The shorter man was never good at keeping things a secret for long, if at all, so this sudden change in character from him left Kayn more curious than anything else. However, one thing he realized every time Ezreal came back from his adventures and feigned being asleep was how the other man would always let out a disappointed, deep exhale, successfully pulling at his heartstrings with the slightest sliver of worry. He didn’t know what was making his partner so pensive, especially when it was this late, but his concerns continued to grow when these rendezvous of his turned into a common pattern over the course of a few weeks.
At some point, the hockey player decided it was better to intervene, mostly because this lack of communication was beginning to make him feel quite anxious for the ice skater. If Ezreal was going through something, he wanted to be there with him, helping in any way he could. With that being said, the taller man waited for the perfect chance to follow him, pretending to be deep within his dreams without an ounce of awareness one night.
Like clockwork, he heard the footsteps he had become all too familiar with sneaking their way out towards the door again, clearly on a determined mission. Once he was sure his lover was completely gone, Kayn slowly stood up and tried to make his own walking as light and quiet as possible, following behind the smaller man down the set of stairs leading to the living room and kitchen. On his way there, he took a short glance into both Kaelem and Ekali’s rooms in case Ezreal happened to be with them, but he was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, he thought he might have been in there with one of them, maybe comforting Kaelem with his resurfacing nightmares, but it appeared he was wrong.
When he was finally downstairs, he noticed a bright, unmistakable light coming from the kitchen, illuminating certain parts of the living room near it. He could also make out the faint sound of clattering and clunking coming from within the other room, hushed curses and whispers filtering into his ears as he gradually made his way closer. He stayed hidden in the shadows, peering over his shoulder as he took a peek at what Ezreal was doing from behind the wall, eyes squinting as they tried getting used to the brightness in the middle of the night.
That was when his racing thoughts came to an instant halt, his temporarily furrowed brows rising as an unexpected understanding settled in while watching the sight before him; his husband appeared to have been cooking something, pouting as he stared at what looked like an unfinished dish sitting on top of the counter. While the act came across as very endearing at first, confusion took the reins not long after as the hockey player truly processed what he was witnessing. Ezreal didn’t know how to cook, and yet here he was, cooking. At twelve in the morning, no less.
For what reason, he didn’t have a single clue. It wasn’t like they were lacking in the food department, as Kayn learned how to cook pretty well at an early age seeing as he always had a big family to look after. And it wasn’t like he was annoyed or bothered by being the household’s resident chef—if anything, he took great pleasure and pride in feeding his spouse and children. Who could ever be upset at helping their partner with something so normal and natural? Not to mention, in the extremely rare, unlikely case he felt too tired to do his job, Shadow Assassin was also available to help Ezreal in the event of an emergency.
Regardless, it appeared his husband had become intrigued by the art of being able to provide a tasty dish, practicing his culinary skills by himself when he assumed everyone had gone to bed and wouldn’t notice his many efforts. The thought made Kayn crack a small smile, choosing to ultimately come out from the darkness slowly and cautiously so as to not freak out his spouse with his unanticipated appearance. He cleared his throat and knocked gently on the door frame he was leaning on, watching as the shorter man jumped in shock even after his attempt to make his existence known in a way in which he wouldn’t get frightened.
He stared into his mint-colored eyes as they widened in surprise, Ezreal’s pale hand coming up to his chest as he let out a shaken breath, body moving on its own to hide what he had been working on as he gasped, “Kayn?! What are you doing up so late?” The taller man snorted at his silly inquiry, gesturing at him as he replied back with a snarky tone. “I could say the same about you, y’know,” The hockey player teased, a subtle smirk forming from his lips as he made his way towards his lover and placed his hands on his waist, “Why are you cooking at…fuck, it’s already midnight? Got a ghost you’re wanting to feed or what, birdy?” The figure skater rolled his eyes at his husband’s obviously stupid questions, a pretty, little grin adorning his features as he shook his head in response.
“No? Then what’s the occasion? Since when did you get good at cooking?”
“Well, that’s…it’s nothing, really…”
He followed Ezreal’s distracted and hesitant gaze to where his dish sat on the countertop, turning his attention towards the plate as he hummed in interest. It was nothing impressive in terms of presentation, but it wasn’t like he was expecting the shorter man to automatically be a professional at the skill. Everyone learns things at a different pace, and he wasn’t here to judge his partner, so he simply nodded in acknowledgement for what he was trying to achieve by doing this. “It looks fine to me. What’s it supposed to be? Some kind of fried rice?” He asked encouragingly, letting go of his hold on Ezreal as he searched for a spoon, going for a bite once he found one.
His partner seemed horrified as he neared his creation, trying to stop him in his tracks with a frantic show of hands, but it was too late. He took a spoonful to the mouth without another thought, flavors mixing together on his tongue in a strange way instantly, face scrunching up for a split second on impulse before he tried relaxing it. He did his best to savor the taste, but it was proving difficult as with each chew, the rice would somehow become even saltier and overly spicy; it could hardly be considered edible.
However, he refrained from using such language on a dish his husband had clearly worked hard to make, so he just gave him a struggling smile. Ezreal sighed through his nose, pinching the bridge of it as he cringed in his direction, asking with a dispirited tone, “It’s really bad, isn’t it?” Kayn let out a cough after finally managing to swallow down what he put in his mouth, getting a glass of water as he nodded halfheartedly. Well, at least he didn’t say it directly—lying to the figure skater wasn’t something he was interested in doing, either.
He heard the other man exhale once more, apologizing briefly for letting him taste his “abomination” as he threw the food away. “I don’t know why I’m so bad at this,” Ezreal bemoaned, shrugging his shoulders in a crestfallen manner, “I keep trying and trying, but I always mess it up. Heck, even Kae Kae hated it.” Following his disheartened words, Kayn’s ears perked up slightly, raising one eyebrow at the mention of their son’s nickname. He wrapped an arm around Ezreal’s middle from behind, kissing the area at the crook of his neck tenderly before mumbling into his skin, “Kaelem? Hating something you did for him? Didn’t think he had it in him, to be honest.”
The figure skater giggled for a moment, most likely thinking of their child, laughter fading quickly as he said, “I guess hated is a strong word. He was just…more blunt and open compared to other times when I asked for his opinion.” He turned his head to look at Kayn, an amused expression now on his face as he proceeded with his story, clearly reminiscing thanks to his hopeless romantic nature. “A few days ago I made some kind of…soup? It looked simple enough to make, so I gave it a go,” He pressed on, appearing delighted as he continued to tell the tale of this certain memory, “I handed Kaelem a small bowl and let Ekali try it, too. Let’s just say they had very interesting reactions.”
Kayn chuckled, already imagining how their daughter probably spat out whatever her “papa” had fed her, knowing exactly how unrestrained she could be about her feelings even at the tiny age of two. As for their son, he reminded him of Shadow Assassin very often, which wasn’t much of a surprise when, in a way, he was biologically his child. He was sure Kaelem probably did his best to hide how unenjoyable his mother’s food was, as he was never the type to outwardly be negative towards Ezreal in any capacity. But if his dish was successful in making even their son of all people comment in a disapproving manner, he must have done a genuinely horrid job.
However, the way his husband described the moment he shared with their kids while he was absent made him pleased in a way he couldn’t describe, chest warm knowing despite Ezreal’s failed attempts, he was absolutely joyous to have experienced this with them. In the end, what made his partner happiest was their children’s glee—something he could completely relate to. Kayn tightened his embrace on his lover as a yawn accidentally escaped past his lips, eyes going blurry as exhaustion hit him again, muttering quietly, “Well, if you ever need help in the kitchen, y’know where to find me. I’d rather help you get better than risk you burning our house down while I’m dreaming of you.”
Ezreal let out a short snicker at his lighthearted jab, placing a hand on his husband’s cheek softly as he whispered back, “I’ll be sure to keep it in mind, Mr. Chef.”