Hiroki yawned, furrowing his eyebrows against the warm light that painted the inside of his eyelids crimson. Smacking his lips, he slowly opened his eyes.

…And gasped in surprise. There, directly beneath him, was a slumbering giant, whose chest rose and fell steadily in his sleep. As Hiroki woke up more, he felt a set of large, warm hands resting on the small of his back and a pair of legs entangled in his.

Hiroki stared down at Nowaki in confusion for a few moments before the events of the night before came back to him in a rush of images. He blinked, taking a few seconds to register all of the thoughts. When everything was processed and the initial grogginess of waking up faded, Hiroki smiled gently down at his fiancé.

Nowaki had come home.

Ebony tresses were haloed about Nowaki's face, creating a beautiful contrast with the snow white pillow beneath his head. His pale face, already tender and gentle, was even more peaceful in its vulnerable state of sleep. His lips, pale pink and thin, were slightly parted as waves of soft breaths passed through them. Hiroki sighed dreamily and rested his chin on his folded arms, watching Nowaki. He was so lovely when he was asle-

Nowaki snorted quite suddenly, making Hiroki jump in surprise. He smacked his lips a few times, reached up to unconsciously bat at a nonexistent itch on his cheek, then grunted quietly before returning to his peaceful state.

Hiroki blinked, then giggled, lowering his head onto his folded arms once more.

"Mmm…" Nowaki moaned sleepily. "'iro-san? Wha're you laughin' a'?

"You," Hiroki replied playfully, tapping his fingers across one of Nowaki's pectorals.

"Thas'not nice," Nowaki slurred. Hiroki smiled. Nowaki seemed to be unconscious but conscious at the same time, his face just barely twitching as he mumbled his words. "Why're you laughin' at me?"

"You farted in your sleep."

"Nn," Nowaki whined, furrowing his eyebrows. "No I di'nt."

"Yes you did."

"I'd know'f I farted, 'iro-san."

Hiroki hiss-laughed, incredibly amused by Nowaki's half-awake state.

"I know. I'm just teasing."

"You're mean."

Nowaki yawned, and Hiroki pulled his body up to reach Nowaki's face and peck his cheek.

"Gimmie a kiss," Nowaki mumbled. He pursed his lips and made sleepy kissing sounds. Hiroki chortled and obliged Nowaki's request, moving his head to kiss his lips.

"Mm," Hiroki hummed cheerfully. He pulled away and grinned. "Good morning."

Nowaki had opened his eyes part way and was blinking tiredly up at Hiroki, a dazed smile on his face.

"Mm. Mornin', baby. Want me to make you some breakfast?"

"No… I'll make it. You just sleep in a little bit more, but make sure you get up soon so you can say hi to Fuyumi when she wakes up."

Nowaki raised his eyebrows, then a slow smile spread on his lips.

"Mm'kay."

"What would you like?"

Nowaki thought for a moment. His lips upturned slightly as his eyelids gradually slid shut once more.

"Something yummy and warm," Nowaki murmured. Hiroki grinned at Nowaki's open request. Perfect.

"Alright. Make sure you get up so you can eat, okay?" Hiroki said as he slid off of Nowaki and out of bed.

"'kay."

Hiroki glanced around the floor of the bedroom until he found one of Nowaki's t-shirts. Whether it was the t-shirt he had on last night or the t-shirt Hiroki had brought to Sweden, he couldn't tell. He didn't mind, though, and he stooped down to pick it up. He slipped the shirt onto his arms and was about to duck his head into it when he felt a hand grab one of the globes of his bottom. Hiroki looked over his shoulder questioningly at Nowaki, who had reached out to grab him.

"Cute," he mumbled tiredly. His hand fell away a moment later, and Hiroki snorted. He pulled the shirt over his head and smoothed it down so the hem danced about his hips. Yawning and rubbing his eye with one balled fist, Hiroki shuffled out of the bedroom and into the living room. He went to the kitchen, squeaking a little as the cold tiles stung his bare feet. He set to work on making Nowaki's breakfast, remembering all of the tips that his father had taught him before he and Hiroki's mother had left Sweden.

Hiroki sang softly as he whisked eggs in a stainless steel mixing bowl. He had forgotten most of the English words to I Love My Love, but he sang it anyway, humming the notes when he couldn't remember the words that went with them.

He paused for a moment, having to remind himself of the next step of the breakfast he was planning. It was a breakfast that his father had taught him specifically. A breakfast that no Kamijou should ever forget. Concentrating hard, Hiroki continued making the breakfast. When everything was prepared, he put it all into the oven, which had already been preset.

Before long, the kitchen smelled delicious, and Hiroki smiled in triumph. For the first time, he had made a special breakfast that didn't concern eggs. But Hiroki didn't let himself get too cocky, and he knelt in front of the oven and intently watched the contents. They had to be perfect for Nowaki.

When they were nearing completion, Hiroki hauled himself to his feet and retrieved a couple hot mitts. He watched the timer, his hands hovering over the handle of the oven. The timer went off, and Hiroki dove into action. He opened the oven, snatched the breakfast, and shut the oven door again with his foot. He went to the island counter, where the final step of Nowaki's breakfast was waiting in a bowl. Setting the breakfast down on a hot pad, Hiroki picked up the bowl and drizzled its contents over the breakfast, making sure each portion was coated well.

"Perfect," Hiroki muttered, scraping the rim of the bowl with his finger to avoid drippage. Licking his finger, he hummed his approval at the sweet taste. He scooped up a serving of the breakfast onto a medium-sized plate, then went to the refrigerator to grab a carton of orange juice. Going to a nearby cupboard, he opened it to get a glass. He filled it with orange juice, returned the carton to the fridge, then put all of the prepared breakfast onto a tray. He added a fork, knife, and a napkin, and he was finished.

Hiroki smiled down at his creation and picked up the tray. He headed back to the bedroom, where he tiptoed his way in.

"Nowaki…" Hiroki whispered. "Breakfast is ready."

Nowaki was fast asleep, but he had shifted. He was propped up against the headboard with a few pillows, but he had slumped over slightly. Hiroki tilted his head and sighed through his nose in mock-exasperation. At least Nowaki had tried to wake up. Hiroki went quietly to the bedside and set the tray of breakfast down on the bedside table. Perching on the edge of the bed, Hiroki turned his body to caress Nowaki's cheek.

"Time to wake up," Hiroki murmured. Nowaki mumbled incoherently in his sleep and shifted. Hiroki got up, only to crawl onto the bed. He leaned over Nowaki and stared at his sleeping face for a few moments. Nowaki went back to softly snoring. Hiroki rolled his eyes and crawled down to the foot of the bed. He pulled up the covers, revealing Nowaki's bare feet. With his index finger, he tickled the bottom of Nowaki's foot.

"Nn!" Nowaki whined, his foot disappearing back under the covers. Hiroki stifled a laugh and tickled Nowaki's other foot.

"Time to get up," he sang.

"Quit it…" Nowaki mumbled, his other foot also vanishing under the covers. Hiroki pinched his lips together. In a flurry of sheets and blankets, the covers flew off of Nowaki's body and flopped to the floor. Hiroki jumped on top of Nowaki and pinched his nose. Nowaki awoke with a start, batting at Hiroki. "Le'go! Le'go!"

"Get up!" Hiroki demanded. He released Nowaki's nose and sat back on his hips, straddling Nowaki and crossing his arms`.

"'M up," Nowaki slurred, reaching up to rub his eyes.

"I told you to only sleep in for a few more minutes," Hiroki scolded, playfully smacking Nowaki's chest to show that he wasn't really angry. Nowaki, who was massaging his nose, glanced up at Hiroki.

"Sorry, Hiro-san. I tried to but I just couldn't keep my eyes open," he said. He gazed up at Hiroki cutely, his puppy dog eyes unbelievably irresistible.

"Ugh, don't bother bringing out the puppy dog eyes. I forgave you the second I saw your sleeping face," Hiroki said wryly, his tone contradicting his adoring words. Nowaki didn't seem to mind, and he smiled widely. Hiroki leaned over and grabbed the plate of Nowaki's breakfast. He smiled shyly. "Look at what I made you."

Nowaki's eyes lit up at the sight before him, and he licked his lips.

"Whaz'zat?"

"It's a cinnamon roll, you ding-dong. Haven't you ever seen one before?"

"Yes, but I've never seen one that had love mixed into it," Nowaki purred. Hiroki rolled his eyes.

"Save the poetry and just eat. It's nothing special."

It's very special, Hiroki thought as he got Nowaki his napkin, fork, and knife. He slid off of Nowaki and sat beside him to allow him to wolf down his breakfast like a wild animal. He tried not to watch, but as he wrung his hands, he flicked his russet stare at Nowaki. It was his dad's famous recipe, one that Hiroki had enjoyed as a child. He hoped that, by making Nowaki the same exact recipe, he'd feel like a little kid waking up on Christmas morning and eating cinnamon rolls. That maybe, just maybe, Nowaki could pretend that he had memories of a mom and dad making him cinnamon rolls.

"This is sooo goo'," Nowaki mumbled. He swallowed eagerly. "When did you learn how to make these? I mean, I saw the video of your dad teaching you how to cook, but I didn't see the cinnamon roll part!"

"Because it's my dad's secret recipe," Hiroki said as his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He cursed his blushing genes. Stupid Dad. "As if he'd let an idiot like you have it."

Nowaki blinked, then smiled knowingly. Hiroki looked away guiltily.

"You've been secretly planning to make me this breakfast for a long time, haven't you?"

Hiroki's face caught fire, and he whipped his fiery stare back towards his moronic fiancé.

"No! Of course not!"

"Oh Hiro-san, that's so sweet!"

"I told you, I didn't-"

Hiroki was abruptly cut off as Nowaki leaned forward to peck him on the lips. When he pulled away, he smiled gently.

"I'm happy," he said softly. He returned to leaning up against the headboard and looked down fondly at his half-eaten cinnamon roll. "No one's ever worked so hard to make me cinnamon rolls before."

Hiroki frowned, his fists clenching in his lap.

"And they're a family recipe, too. There was a lot of love put into this, I can tell," Nowaki murmured. He looked up at Hiroki with half-lidded, adoring eyes and a loving smile on his face. "These are the best I've ever had. Thank you."

"I'll make you more!" Hiroki blurted. Nowaki blinked, and Hiroki looked away shyly. "I mean… I'll make you cinnamon rolls because… because you don't know the recipe, so… I'll make you more. And I… I… aw shit, what am I doing?"

Nowaki tilted his head in confusion as Hiroki looked up boldly.

"Let's make today Cinnamon Roll Day. To mark the day you came home. Every year on this day I'll make you these cinnamon rolls. I mean… of course I'll make them a couple of other times throughout the year, like Christmas and stuff, but today it'll be extra special. Because it'll remind you that… um…"

Hiroki lost a bit of confidence and hunched his shoulders. He timidly reached out to put his hand on Nowaki's larger one.

"It'll remind you that you're always going to have a family to come home to. No matter how long we're apart, you can always, alwaysconsider this place 'home'."

Nowaki's cheeks had turned a pretty shade of pink as he stared at Hiroki, who was blushing ten times more fiercely than him.

"Hiro-san…"

"Don't say anything," Hiroki interrupted shakily, putting his hand over Nowaki's mouth. "I don't think I can take much more embarrassment."

When Hiroki let his hand fall away, a giant smile was on his face.

"Okay, then! Let's make April 5th Cinnamon Roll Day!"