Title: homemade, with a sprinkle of love
Fandom: Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer
Pairing: Rengoku Kyoujuro / Kamado Tanjirou
Summary: “Stop being so weird!” Rengoku hears the yellow boy scold his friend as their footsteps grow distant. “As if your crush wasn’t obvious enough…”
A yelp echoes through the hallway and Kyoujurou pointedly decides he didn’t hear the last words.
Or five times Tanjirou was being told in one way or another that he is acting weird and one time he wasn’t.
(HAPPY BIRTHDAY RENGOKU KYOUJUROU <3)
Links: AO3 &
The last bell rings for the day and the students begin to empty the classrooms, some more in a hurry than others, who quickly pack up their stuff and scatter around, either to reach their club activities as soon as possible or simply to rush home, while a smaller part of students decides to stay behind, either to chat with their friends or sometimes even to ask their teacher a few more questions about the lesson. Kyoujurou loves to talk with his students and quench their thirst for knowledge – it’s truly one of the most rewarding parts of his job! – and so he always remembers to make some time for his pupils.
And today is no different.
Rengoku stifles his laughter as he hears the familiar voice of one of his more enthusiastic students. By now, he has grown accustomed to the boy who is always so eager to talk to him after class. Thinking back, he can’t exactly pinpoint the moment that started it all, but he has come to appreciate the boy with the burgundy eyes that shine brighter than the stars and are so full of sincerity and curiosity that it almost blinds him.
“What can I do for you, Kamado?”
Now that he looks at Tanjirou more closely, the boy actually seems nervous. Just a little, almost unnoticeable, yet clearly visible to Rengoku’s eyes.
“I have a question!” Whatever might be troubling the student wasn’t showing in his voice, which echoes full of energy through the classroom. A few snickers can be heard from the back and Rengoku almost joins them, but he catches himself just in time and hides the traitorous laugh behind a cough.
“I figured as much, boy.” He crosses his arms and smiles at the boy in front of him. “Go ahead and ask awayKamado.”
“What is your favorite food?”
Kyoujurou blinks twice (maybe even more) and his mouth stops open. Of all the questions he expected to be asked, this hasn’t made it to the list yet.
Gone are hesitation and his resolve to hold back and the teacher bellows a resounding laugh that draws the attention of the last remaining students. Oh, he’s never laughed so hard in his life before.
“You’re a very straightforward boy, has anyone ever told you that?”
“Um!” Tanjirou nods and joins in. It almost feels as if they are laughing at some sort of inside joke, something shared just between the two of them.
“Well,” Kyoujurou brushes away the tears that have gathered in the corners of his eyes, and his tone and expression turn solemn.
“I’m not particularly picky about my food,” he answers unusually unenthusiastic. The little voice in his head, the last force still holding him together and keeping him from cradling the boy in his arms, whispers cautiously in his ear that he needs to end the conversation here and now if he ever wishes to maintain a professional relationship with his student.
(He doesn’t. A professional relationship, that is. He wants more, and for heaven’s sake, Kyoujourou, hold your freaking horses.)
“That’s not really helpful.”
Puffy cheeks and a pout so adorable it should be illegal.
“But if you must know”, Rengoku has never admitted to being strong-willed before and pushes the nagging voice to the far back of his mind. “I’ve always had a fondness for sweet potatoes.”
The boy’s beaming smile is the best reward he could ever ask for.
“TANJIROU!” One of the boy’s friends (yellow boy, his brain oh so helpfully provides) yells from the doorway, impatiently pointing to his wrist where one normally wears a watch. “Hurry up or I’ll leave you behind!”
“Wait, Zenitsu, I’m coming!” Tanjirou turns back to his teacher and bows politely. “Thank you Sensei. I’ll see you tomorrow!” No sooner are the words spoken than the boy hurries to catch up with his friend.
“Stop being so weird!” Rengoku hears the yellow boy scold his friend as their footsteps grow distant. “As if your crush wasn’t obvious enough…”
A yelp echoes through the hallway and Kyoujurou pointedly decides he didn’t hear the last words.
“The potatoes substitute the flour, so I can’t change anything about them, but I’ve already reduced the amount of sugar by more than half…”
Kamado Tanjirou is in a pickle.
In theory, he’s come up with the perfect baking recipe in his head, but no matter what and how many times he tries, the cake always ends up way too sweet and borderline inedible.
(I wonder if Rengoku-sensei has a sweet tooth? No, probably not, he’s an adult for heaven’s sake, Tanjirou!!)
“Should I replace the sugar with unsweetened coconut flakes? But what about the texture…” He crosses his arms, lost in thought. “And what if I add some dark chocolate icing? Cooking chocolate should be bitter enough, right?” Tanjirou ponders, searching the kitchen cabinets for any remaining ingredients. Doesn’t look too good, he thinks to himself and makes a mental note to visit the grocery store right after school tomorrow.
“I definitely need to make a list. First, more sweet potatoes, but then also co-”
“And what do you think you’re doing here, young man?!”
Tanjirou leaps screeching from the kitchen counter and takes with him the tower of bowls he used that very night, which fall to the floor with a shrill sound. It borders on a miracle if this doesn’t wake all his siblings.
“Mom! Why are you still awake!?”
Kie huffs and puts her hands on her hips. “That’s what I should be asking you! It’s almost 2 a.m. in the morning, you have school later!”
With all the brainstorming to find the ideal ratio of ingredients – and not to mention putting his theories to the test – he completely lost track of time.
“I’m so sorry, but I just really really wanted this to work…” Tanjirou isn’t lying (he wouldn’t even dare lie to his mother), he just conveniently leaves out the part about how the cake isn’t actually for the bakery, but for the person his heart holds dear.
“Tanjirou.” Being angry at her son is an impossible task and Kie sighs, ruffling her son’s hair. “I’ve seen you acting weird these past few days, but I’ve decided not to interfere because I trust you. You’ve always been a hard worker, much harder than you should ever have to be, but this is too much.”
Guilt overcomes the boy and he hangs his head. Worrying his mother is the last thing he’s ever wanted. “I’m sorry, mom. I promise I won’t overdo it again.”
“Good, now try to get some sleep, okay?” When her son hesitates, Kie adds, “The mess will still be there tomorrow, and then we’ll clean it up together.
“Nezuko?” Calls Tanjirou, balancing the tray in his hands. He has two cups of tea with him (Nezuko’s favorite) as well as two pieces of freshly baked cake.
“In the living room~!” Answers a cheerful voice and Tanjirou hums. As he enters the living room, he is greeted with a squeal of delight from the girl who is still in the middle of doing her homework.
“Wait, isn’t that the cake for,” Nezuko pauses and wiggles her eyebrows, “the bakery?”
“Your face is all weird, Onii-chan!” He really can’t lie to save his life, and Nezuko laughing so hard that tears form in the corners of her eyes and she has to hold her stomach was proof of that.
“Alright, alright.” He pouts and sets the tray down on top of the Kotatsu table. “Do you want a slice now or not?”
“So-sorry.” She bites her lips to suppress another fit of giggles. “Let’s see what the love you’ve put in for Rengoku-sensei tastes like, shall we?”
The shriek that follows could have woken the dead, and for once Tanjirou is glad that none of his other siblings (nor his mother for that matter) are at home right now.
“Onii-chan, your crush is very obvious.” Nezuko tuts, bringing the fork to her mouth. “Besides, a little bird might have told me a thing or two.”
(Zenitsu, that traitor.)
Nezuko hums and nods in approval before she quickly adds, “It’s so tasty, oh my gosh!” and fills her mouth with the delicious treat again. “But…” She swallows the bite and promptly tries the next one. “Don’t you think you should add more sugar?”
“Wouldn’t that be too much? I mean… I don’t want it to be too sweet…” He’s fidgeting, Nezuko realizes, and the urge to tease her older brother grows immeasurably. Maybe later, but especially after she can elicit from her brother how the confession went.
“What? You mean because he’s an adult?”
When her brother nods, Nezuko can’t help but huff.
“Well, that’s just stupid,” she replies, not understanding what one has to do with the other. Tanjirou is quick to change the subject and explains to his sister the ingredients he used and her jaw drops when he mentions the sweet potatoes.
“No way, that’s so weird. You are weird!” She laughs, reaching for her brother’s plate and happily helps herself to seconds.
It should have been the first of many signs that something was wrong with Kamado that day. For one thing, the boy doesn’t announce his presence with an energetic ‘Sensei!‘ as he usually does but quietly waits until all his classmates have left the room. Rengoku doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but the boy startles him right out of his thoughts when he stood in front of him with his arms folded behind his back all of a sudden without making the slightest noise.
“Is something wrong, m-Kamado?” Rengoku inquires, almost slipping. At the last moment, he saves himself before accidentally saying ‘my boy’ instead of the student’s name.
(No, not yours, Kyoujurou. Never yours.)
“You’ve been acting weird, are you not feeling well?”
“I… I…” Tanjirou stutters, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. However, before Kyoujurou can repeat his question, something is being shoved into his chest and he instinctively holds on to… a box?
“H-happy birthday, Rengoku-sensei!!”
“Kamado…” He breathes out, or maybe he’s actually saying the boy’s name in a prayer. At that very moment, Kyoujurou really can’t tell the difference.
(He has to pull himself together.)
His student is not faring any better, as Rengoku notes, and the man can barely contain his adoration for the boy before him. Tanjirou’s cheeks glow bright as if they’re on fire and his gaze is downcast, almost as if he wants to make himself as small and invisible as possible, whilst his hands are still holding onto the package with all their might.
“Hey,” Kyoujurou whispers, covering the boy’s hands with his own, “Let me see?”
“Ah! Y-yes.” Embarrassed, Tanjirou removes his hands and takes a step back. Now that Rengoku takes a closer look, he recognizes the box as one from the Kamado Bakery. Careful not to damage its content, he opens the box to reveal a small cake, just the right size for one person, and covered in rich, dark chocolate icing. A familiar and much-loved smell rises to his nose, and the older man recalls the conversation he had with Tanjirou not too long ago.
(Oh, my boy. My precious, precious boy. You have no idea how much I want to hold you in my arms right now, do you?)
Kyoujurou doesn’t give in to his wishes, however, and suppresses every fiber in his body that screams at him to embrace the boy.
“You know teachers aren’t allowed to accept gifts from students.” That’s right. First and foremost he is a teacher, a role model and therefore must act as one in front of his students. In recent months he’s become careless with his actions and the clear line separating a student and their teacher became blurry. That has to stop, he reprimands himself; he needs to redefine their boundaries before…
Before what, exactly?
“I still hope you will accept it, Sensei. I…” The boy pauses, daring to look his teacher in the eye for the first time since the exchange. “…I made this myself… for you…”
(You little devil, tempting me to eat the forbidden fruit.)
Out of the corner of his eye, Rengoku notices an envelope peeking out of the box, and his curiosity gets the better of him. His fingers graze the piece of paper and a high-pitched yelp rings in his ears. Kyoujurou wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the boy’s face has turned an even deeper shade of red.
“You… you… shouldn’t…” stammers Tanjirou, “Not…. now…” Whatever the boy has written in that letter, Rengoku was supposed to read it at a later time as well as on his own. Curious, the man turns his attention back to the note and carefully unfolds the paper.
The room becomes silent except for the telltale heart beating fiercely in Kyoujurou’s chest.
(He wouldn’t be surprised if the whole school can hear it.)
Without uttering as much as a word, Rengoku carefully folds up the note and puts it back in the envelope. Tanjirou’s face begins to fall.
“You’ll be graduating next year.”
He doesn’t phrase it as a question, no. The words were spoken with certainty, full of confidence for his student, yet deep within they hide a small glimmer of hope.
“I’ll give you my answer then, my boy.”
A promise is all Kyoujurou can offer him at the moment.
“Kamado!” Rengoku waves and beckons the student to him. Well, former student now, since the ceremony already ended some time ago. Many students are still lingering around the school grounds, forming groups and taking pictures of this final day, and generally trying everything in their power to delay the inevitable farewell.
Kyoujurou can see the boy saying something to his friends before he splits from the group and jogs over to the teacher.
“Se-Sensei…?” His face is reddened, but not due to the short sprint just now.
(So he didn’t forget, huh?)
“Do you remember last year in May?” He really shouldn’t, Kyoujurou knows this, yet he can’t help but tease the boy just a little. “Because I remember a very delicious cake, one I’ve been craving ever since, and I do wonder if I’ll ever get the chance to eat that wonderful cake again.”
“Sen…” Tanjirou holds his breath, almost not daring to speak. “Sensei?”
“My boy, I think I still owe you an answer. And while it may not hold the same meaning since it technically isn’t a school uniform,” Kyoujurou brushes aside his tie, counts the second button from the top, and rips it off in one swift motion, “I still hope you’ll accep-“
Kyoujurou doesn’t get to finish the sentence. His arms, which are now full of the boy (he’s so warm), instinctively hold onto the young man and hug him tightly to his broad chest. A pair of lips cover his own and the button falls to the ground, forgotten and disregarded. It’s not much of a kiss as it is two lips pressed tightly against each other. The older man ponders if this must be Tanjirou’s first kiss and tightens his embrace. The students gasp in the background and someone even yells, ‘about damn time!’, but the commotion doesn’t reach their ears.
“You know…” Kyoujurou whispers against the boy’s (his boy’s?) lips as they break apart to catch their breath. “We are still on the school grounds.”
“Well,” mischief mixes into Tanjirou’s voice, “I’m not a student anymore, am I?”
“Ah.” The older man agrees and closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Tanjirou’s. They are sure to have garnered quite the attention by now, but Kyoujurou couldn’t care less. “I should have known you’d pull something like that,” Rengoku remarks teasingly and breathes a laugh, genuinely perplexing the boy.
“You’ve always had a very… unique way of approaching problems.”
Tanjirou starts to wiggle in his arms, but Kyoujurou won’t let him get away, not when he finally has him in his grasp. The brunette resigns himself to his fate and snorts, “You just called me weird, didn’t you?”
Kyoujurou barks a laugh and kisses the top of Tanjirou’s head. “I wouldn’t dare.”
And when Tanjirou puffs out his cheeks and calls his former teacher and current boyfriend an idiot, no one bats an eye.
Kyoujurou has never admitted to being above whining, especially when it means attracting the attention of his lover who thought it a brilliant idea to barricade himself in the kitchen and instructed the birthday boy to stay far, far away. It’s not the first time Kyoujurou has to obey this command, and it certainly won’t be the last time either. Apparently, it takes a lot of skill to burn the butter, and according to a certain someone he would ‘even manage to burn water if it were physically possible, so please stay out of the kitchen, Kyoujurou-san.’
“Nope!” A stern voice from the kitchen replies, “You stay in the living room, and no peeking!”
“But darling,” Kyoujurou marvels at the squeal from his boyfriend. He rarely uses pet names other than his famous ‘my boy’ (“I know that boy is yours. We all know that! You can stop calling him that now.” – “Never, Uzui, never!”), but one has to cut the poor man some slack; Kyoujurou is bored out of his mind and teasing the love of his life is his only entertainment at the moment. “You’ve been baking the same cake for years. It’s hardly going to be a surprise now.”
No response, although the kitchen cabinet was closed a little more roughly than usual. Ah, he must have hit a nerve now as Tanjirou considers it his mission to convince Kyoujurou to wish for a different cake on his birthday (very unsuccessfully so, but that’s another matter).
‘B-but I can bake something better now!’ The boy would always argue that his skills have improved and that he can now offer his beloved so much more and better, but Kyoujurou would always rebuff him with a kiss. ‘I know that my boy and I don’t doubt you, but this is all I wish for. Won’t you do me this favor, Tanjirou?’ and Kyoujurou knows he has won when the boy goes slack and turns to jelly in his arms.
Quietly, so as to not draw any attention to himself, Kyoujurou tiptoes down the hall until he reaches his destination. His victim of affection has yet to notice him, and Kyoujurou takes this advantage to sneak up on the boy.
“I hope you didn’t forget to add sugar, my boy.” Without warning, he wraps his arms around Tanjirou’s middle and pulls the young man to his chest, almost scaring the poor boy to death. With a surprised yelp, the wooden spoon falls from his hand, leaving behind a trail of raw dough on the floor.
“Geez, Kyoujurou-san…” Tanjirou honestly wants to stay mad at his partner – the blond hears it clearly in his voice – but the younger man is no match for Rengoku’s charm and practically melts in his arms. “I have already added the original amount of sugar, you can’t possibly want more!”
“Hmm…” He nuzzles into Tanjirou’s neck and takes in the scent of his boyfriend. He’s always been a lover of sweets, even if he’s often been told that it doesn’t fit his image.
“Always,” Kyoujurou admits, gently nibbling on his lover’s soft skin, “delicious!”
“Gods, yo-you’re…” Tanjirou’s breath hitches and he feels his knees go weak as his lover’s tongue travels along his neck to his earlobe. “N-not in the… a-ah… k-kitchen.”
Kyoujurou hums in his ear and the young man feels every vibration of the sound.
“What do you want?” he asks in a husky, lustful voice, and Tanjirou shudders.
“Take me to bed, Sensei.”