Scrambled
Title: Scrambled
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto Jun/Sakurai Sho
Summary: He wasn’t even sure if Sakurai could make toast without assistance
Notes/Warnings: An End of 2009 Request from r_1_ss_a who wanted something involving Jun as a cooking teacher for Sho.
“Sakurai-san, remind me again why you’re in this class.”
His student was frustrated, staring at the little flecks of egg shell that were floating around in the bowl. Jun had never had a more hopeless case in his kitchen, and even though this was a beginner’s class, he wasn’t even sure if Sakurai could make toast without assistance.
“I want to learn how to cook.”
Jun nodded, spooning out the bits of shell and handing Sho another egg to try again. At least he’d started cracking them against the bowl and not his head in a ploy to make the other students laugh. Then again, Sho only had an audience of one now since he’d stayed after class for additional instruction.
“You don’t need to smack the thing so hard,” Jun told him. He picked up an egg and demonstrated with one hand, tapping it against the rim of the bowl and breaking it cleanly. Sho looked at him like he was from another planet. A planet where men could cook apparently.
“All the magazines I’ve been reading say that women want a husband who can at least do the basics around the kitchen.”
“Times are changing,” Jun agreed, watching Sho tap the egg gently against the rim. “A little more.” He grabbed hold of Sho’s wrist and helped him crack it. The guy was super jittery.
“Can’t say I’m too interested in matchmaking, but uh…you know, doesn’t hurt to know these things,” Sho babbled once Jun let go of him and he let the egg out into the bowl. So that’s why Sho was here - his parents were pressuring him to get married.
Too bad Sho wasn’t interested in women, Jun thought with a grin.
Jun handed him a fork. “Maybe next time we’ll let you crack them right into the frying pan, but for now, let’s add some milk and scramble these.”
Sho followed Jun’s instructions, stirring the eggs while Jun got the frying pan ready with some butter. “Just pour it?”
“Just pour it.” The pan sizzled and popped, and Sho looked excited that he was actually cooking. Sho held out his hand for the spatula. “Not yet.”
Sho was growing impatient as the eggs cooked. “How about now?”
Jun tapped his student on the shoulder with the spatula. “Not. Yet.”
“It’ll burn!”
“It won’t.”
“How do you know?”
He adjusted his glasses. “Because I’m your teacher.”
“Can I please have the spatula?”
He eyeballed the frying pan - the liquid was changing into what would soon be some perfectly fluffy eggs. “Can I trust you to do this right? It’s not difficult.”
Sho nodded, and Jun handed him the spatula.
“Finish these, and I’ll cut some bread.”
Of course, he was only turned around at the cutting board for a minute before Sho started panicking.
“Um…Jun?”
He didn’t want to look, but he could already smell burnt egg. He turned, seeing Sho turning the dial for the stove burner off. “How…how did you…”
“Well, I uh…well, you said you were just slicing bread, and I wanted these to be done at the same time so it would be perfect timing so I turned the heat up…”
Jun took the spatula out of Sho’s hand and poked at the completely scorched pan. The should-have-been-perfect scrambled eggs were brown. At least Sho hadn’t waited to get his attention after the smoke alarm went off.
“Is any of that edible?”
Jun poked at the eggs again. They were semi-salvageable. “Don’t turn the heat up on your own.” He dumped the pan out onto a plate and put down a piece of bread. “Eat it.”
“You mean right now?”
He shoved Sho down onto the stool by the countertop. If it was another one of his students, he’d use his favorite line of “taste your failure” but he just felt so bad for Sakurai that he didn’t say it. Instead he went with “the best way to get better is to learn from your mistakes.”
Sho prodded the food with his fork. “I guess I’m not really getting the hang of this yet.”
He watched Sho eat the whole plate of near-burnt eggs, seeing his face grow more and more sullen with every bite. They probably didn’t taste horrible, but they certainly didn’t taste good. The streetlights were already on outside the building, and the cleaning people would come through soon enough.
“We have to clean up,” he announced. He had another basics class in the morning, and he didn’t feel like coming in early to get the pots and pans clean.
“That I can do,” Sho assured him.
Sho was better at scrubbing and washing up than he was at making kitchen messes. “Maybe we should skip breakfast,” he told Sho, watching him concentrate on getting the egg pan as pristine as it had been before. “Next time, we’ll do dinner.”
“Dinner?” Sho nearly choked out. Aw, did he think he was getting asked out? Jun didn’t normally date students.
“Dinner here,” he reassured the nervous man, patting him on the shoulder with a sudsy hand. “We’ll do something easy. We’ll do pasta.”
“Water. I can boil water,” Sho replied agreeably, not seeming to mind the damp handprint on his shirt.
“We’ll see.”
Sho dried his hands with one of the hand towels and bowed oh-so-politely in the way that always made Jun’s heart swell. A polite student. “Thank you for your help, sensei.” He put on his coat nervously and headed out.
If Sho continued to be an utter failure, Jun thought as he packed up to head home, at least that meant he’d continue needing individual attention. He’d be a poor teacher after all if he didn’t do his utmost to help out.
He looked back at the empty kitchen and flicked off the lights.
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto Jun/Sakurai Sho
Summary: He wasn’t even sure if Sakurai could make toast without assistance
Notes/Warnings: An End of 2009 Request from r_1_ss_a who wanted something involving Jun as a cooking teacher for Sho.
“Sakurai-san, remind me again why you’re in this class.”
His student was frustrated, staring at the little flecks of egg shell that were floating around in the bowl. Jun had never had a more hopeless case in his kitchen, and even though this was a beginner’s class, he wasn’t even sure if Sakurai could make toast without assistance.
“I want to learn how to cook.”
Jun nodded, spooning out the bits of shell and handing Sho another egg to try again. At least he’d started cracking them against the bowl and not his head in a ploy to make the other students laugh. Then again, Sho only had an audience of one now since he’d stayed after class for additional instruction.
“You don’t need to smack the thing so hard,” Jun told him. He picked up an egg and demonstrated with one hand, tapping it against the rim of the bowl and breaking it cleanly. Sho looked at him like he was from another planet. A planet where men could cook apparently.
“All the magazines I’ve been reading say that women want a husband who can at least do the basics around the kitchen.”
“Times are changing,” Jun agreed, watching Sho tap the egg gently against the rim. “A little more.” He grabbed hold of Sho’s wrist and helped him crack it. The guy was super jittery.
“Can’t say I’m too interested in matchmaking, but uh…you know, doesn’t hurt to know these things,” Sho babbled once Jun let go of him and he let the egg out into the bowl. So that’s why Sho was here - his parents were pressuring him to get married.
Too bad Sho wasn’t interested in women, Jun thought with a grin.
Jun handed him a fork. “Maybe next time we’ll let you crack them right into the frying pan, but for now, let’s add some milk and scramble these.”
Sho followed Jun’s instructions, stirring the eggs while Jun got the frying pan ready with some butter. “Just pour it?”
“Just pour it.” The pan sizzled and popped, and Sho looked excited that he was actually cooking. Sho held out his hand for the spatula. “Not yet.”
Sho was growing impatient as the eggs cooked. “How about now?”
Jun tapped his student on the shoulder with the spatula. “Not. Yet.”
“It’ll burn!”
“It won’t.”
“How do you know?”
He adjusted his glasses. “Because I’m your teacher.”
“Can I please have the spatula?”
He eyeballed the frying pan - the liquid was changing into what would soon be some perfectly fluffy eggs. “Can I trust you to do this right? It’s not difficult.”
Sho nodded, and Jun handed him the spatula.
“Finish these, and I’ll cut some bread.”
Of course, he was only turned around at the cutting board for a minute before Sho started panicking.
“Um…Jun?”
He didn’t want to look, but he could already smell burnt egg. He turned, seeing Sho turning the dial for the stove burner off. “How…how did you…”
“Well, I uh…well, you said you were just slicing bread, and I wanted these to be done at the same time so it would be perfect timing so I turned the heat up…”
Jun took the spatula out of Sho’s hand and poked at the completely scorched pan. The should-have-been-perfect scrambled eggs were brown. At least Sho hadn’t waited to get his attention after the smoke alarm went off.
“Is any of that edible?”
Jun poked at the eggs again. They were semi-salvageable. “Don’t turn the heat up on your own.” He dumped the pan out onto a plate and put down a piece of bread. “Eat it.”
“You mean right now?”
He shoved Sho down onto the stool by the countertop. If it was another one of his students, he’d use his favorite line of “taste your failure” but he just felt so bad for Sakurai that he didn’t say it. Instead he went with “the best way to get better is to learn from your mistakes.”
Sho prodded the food with his fork. “I guess I’m not really getting the hang of this yet.”
He watched Sho eat the whole plate of near-burnt eggs, seeing his face grow more and more sullen with every bite. They probably didn’t taste horrible, but they certainly didn’t taste good. The streetlights were already on outside the building, and the cleaning people would come through soon enough.
“We have to clean up,” he announced. He had another basics class in the morning, and he didn’t feel like coming in early to get the pots and pans clean.
“That I can do,” Sho assured him.
Sho was better at scrubbing and washing up than he was at making kitchen messes. “Maybe we should skip breakfast,” he told Sho, watching him concentrate on getting the egg pan as pristine as it had been before. “Next time, we’ll do dinner.”
“Dinner?” Sho nearly choked out. Aw, did he think he was getting asked out? Jun didn’t normally date students.
“Dinner here,” he reassured the nervous man, patting him on the shoulder with a sudsy hand. “We’ll do something easy. We’ll do pasta.”
“Water. I can boil water,” Sho replied agreeably, not seeming to mind the damp handprint on his shirt.
“We’ll see.”
Sho dried his hands with one of the hand towels and bowed oh-so-politely in the way that always made Jun’s heart swell. A polite student. “Thank you for your help, sensei.” He put on his coat nervously and headed out.
If Sho continued to be an utter failure, Jun thought as he packed up to head home, at least that meant he’d continue needing individual attention. He’d be a poor teacher after all if he didn’t do his utmost to help out.
He looked back at the empty kitchen and flicked off the lights.