This is a gift to @kitameguire! I’m your secret santa :D
Ship: Hireshipping | Akira/Ema
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains
Word Count: 1,715
Rating: T
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Tags: Domestic, Fluff, Established Relationship
Entirely against his will, on pure autopilot, when Akira heard the droning tones of his phone alarm go off, he roused and woke up. He forced himself to sit up in bed and he sighed. The morning was balmy and uncomfortable, there were bags under his eyes, his hair was a mess.
“Ema,” Akira announced in agony, “I don’t want to go to work today.”
Ema groaned as she stirred, waking up. She had done very well thus far to teach herself to ignore and sleep through Akira’s alarms but the dulcet tones of his strained voice pierced her like no machine could, apparently. She unfurled herself from how she had been sleeping like a lump under the doona and half removed her eye mask. She pushed it half up the side of her face, wearing it like a sash across her head, it dipped low slightly obscuring her vision and the elastic straps were getting knotty in her hair but Ema hardly minded as she cooed over Akira.
“Are you sick? Are you running a fever? Got a man-cold, you poor diddums?” Ema teased him as she started to proper herself up more. She was still bleary with sleep but even so, she reached around and up to Akira’s face.
He blushed slightly as Ema touched his forehead, her palm was warm against his skin and he smiled. As did Ema. He felt perfectly room temperature and lukewarm. Not a cause for concern, not a single one.
“Nope.” Ema concluded, most medically.
“I just don’t want to go to work. I’m too tired, it's too busy, I just want a break.” Akira murmured in misery.
Ema snickered, “You sound like an elementary schooler.”
“I know.” Akira agreed.
“But you're the goddamn CEO of SOL Technologies instead.” Ema pointed out.
“And it's because I’m the goddamn CEO of SOL Technologies that I have an incredibly tiring schedule. I need more hours in the day to get things done, mediate and barter, set schedules, approve or disprove ideas, it's bothersome. Then I need more hours in the night to sleep.” Akira complained, rambling.
Ema glanced at him, sympathetic, and pet Akira’s shoulder, “I don’t kick in my sleep, do I?” she asked, half-joking.
“No, no, you don’t.” Akira sweetly assured her. “I just can’t make up for lost sleep and rough nights from, well, even years ago.”
“Sounds to me like you need to get some coffee into you, with extra sugar and I bet there’s whipped cream in the fridge, too. Or chocolate spread. Maybe even both.” Ema smiled coquettishly.
Akira let out a nasally sigh, “Ema, that sounds far too…” He wanted to say that it sounded sugary. Or lacking in any nutritional value but Ema’s playful grin wore him down in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t remember the last time he had anything more lackadaisical than black coffee. “That sounds perfectly fine.”
“Good.” Ema chirped.
She leaned in and pecked Akira’s cheek. Akira smiled a small smile whilst Ema ungracefully exited the bed. She wrecked the doona and sheets, letting Akira stay in bed just that little bit longer. He watched as she left to go turn on the coffee maker and blinked tiredly to himself. He was starting to feel just a little bit better about the insurmountable work that never stopped in front of him.
He stayed sitting in bed for just a few minutes longer. When he heard the kettle boil, Akira got up. He was like a zombie, how he walked through the halls, all but dragging himself and all whilst trying to be quiet. It was still early, Aoi would be asleep right now, or so Akira hoped but either way, he didn’t want to disturb her no matter what she was doing: sleeping, scrolling social media, or if the heavens permitted it, studying.
Walking into the kitchen, the smell of coffee was vibrant. Vibrant and chocolaty. It wasn’t bad, however, even if it was an overwhelming aroma, it reminded Akira of the sort of art house cafes that Ema liked and visited on a regular basis; cafes that Akira had only been to once or twice, when he could fit it into his schedule. It was a heartening smell and one that Akira was looking forward to getting a taste of as Ema walked two mugs over to him as he stood by the central kitchen table.
Looking over her shoulder, back to where the coffee maker was stationed, was a third mug which had a note with instructions: for Aoi. The gesture was subtle, unmentioned as Ema loaded Akira up with his mug and was eager to tuck into her own but it meant the world to Akira anyway. He must have been really tired because it almost made him cry. He teared up as he accepted that warm mug of coffee from Ema.
“Enjoy.” she bade him.
“I will.” Akira replied.
They sat down together at the table and drank their respective coffees in quiet comfort. Akira cheered up immediately from the first sip and Ema’s heart, admittedly, skipped a beat seeing such genuine joy and vulnerability on his face. It mightn’t have erased the dreadful bags under his eyes but it certainly gave him some cheer.
Inside the mug of coffee, it was piled high with whipped cream from the can and smelled excruciatingly sweet. Akira wasn’t even sure if he could call it coffee since it smelt and from preliminary tastes, was a lot more like a vaguely mocha flavoured hot cocoa. This sort of caffeinated, chocolate concoction was absolutely not the sort of thing that Akira would ever make or even buy for himself but that made him relish all the more. The chocolate flavouring that Ema had added - either from malt or from the tub of spread - was immaculate.
“Thank you, Ema, I love it.” Akira told her with high praise entrenched in his voice.
“You're welcome.” Ema fondly replied, dreamily watching as Akira drank more of his coffee.
He looked and sounded as excited as a child with his warm drink in his hands. Even if he was trying to hide it but the twinkle in his eye betrayed him. His lips quivered with an endearing smile as he drank more of his coffee, trying hard to scull it down despite it being hot because he felt like he didn’t actually have time to enjoy it. Being a CEO never stopped for anyone and he didn’t want to be late to getting changed, late to getting work, and late to getting anything at all done.
But as the saying went, haste makes waste and Ema snickered to herself. Akira stared at her pointedly, bemused by her impish chuckling. He was completely oblivious to the smear of whipped cream on his upper lip.
“Y-You’ve got a li’l something on your face, right… here.” Ema said and she pointed on her own face where the mess was on Akira’s. He tried to reach for a serviette from the holder in the middle of the table, beside the salt and pepper shakers but Ema cut in first. “Let me help you.”
Ema was smooth as full cream milk as she leaned in closer to Akira so she could caress his face. She smiled softly, even as she felt the prickle of Akira’s unshaved stubble underneath her thumb as she took her sweet, indulgent time doing something about that smear of whipped cream on him. She licked her lips and then his.
She kissed him indolently. Akira didn’t mind one bit, how Ema kissed him, sloppy and open-mouthed as she tried to clean up that whipped cream. She was languid as she enjoyed the fluffy texture of the whipped cream and the softness of Akira’s lips.
As Ema took her overly sweet time, it gave him time to enjoy what was left of the chocolaty, mocha taste in his mouth and remind him, there was still some in his mug if he wanted to savour it. For that, he was grateful - and, quite possibly, for the umpteenth time this morning alone, reminded of how head over heels in love with Ema he was. He almost didn’t want the kiss to stop as Ema licked up the cream off him and then smacked her lips in satisfaction thereafter, a flirtatious sparkle in her eyes.
“Why don’t you take the whole day off if you're so tired? A sick day.” Ema suggested, non-serious but she tried to convey the opposite, just to tempt Akira.
He shook his head with responsibility, not lamentation, “I shouldn’t. I don’t truly want to take today off.” Akira admitted. “I’m not like you. I can’t come and go like a cat, lounging around, doing work at whatever time that pleases me.”
“Fair enough,” Ema shrugged placidly, “that’s what I admire about you. That work ethic.”
“Thank you, Ema.” Akira replied and he drank the last of his coffee, it had grown lukewarm but it hadn’t lost its sweetness or its caffeinated effect. “I should go and get ready for work. I’ll buy breakfast on my way into the office but I thoroughly enjoyed this, Ema.”
“Knock ‘em dead at work then, tiger.” Ema grinned and she playfully punched Akira’s shoulder. “I really liked this, too.”
“We should try and do it more then.” Akira said but his nose scrunched up, he knew that if anyone was going to rain check these sorts of dates, as mundane and not overly frivolous as they are, it was going to be him, not Ema.
But Ema didn’t mind, “Have a good day then.”
“You as well.” Akira bade her fondly. “And, if you could, could you let Aoi know I want the same for her.”
“Of course.” Ema replied. “And I’ll clean these up for you, too.”
“Thank you.” Akira said and he got up.
Ema smiled as she collected up Akira’s mug, placing it closer to her own, the handles clinking against each other. Akira was awkward but he left the kitchen, shuffling off still in his pajamas. He would come back in his suit and tie soon enough so he could go to work having had his chocolaty, whipped cream on top coffee, at home for once with his girlfriend.
Akira was just an ordinary photographer until he ended up married to Emma Bessho, sister of Blood Shepard, one of the most powerful eastern European crime figures. The two go on a honeymoon, only for Emma to end up kidnapped. Akira, along with Shoichi the crazy helicopter pilot, Queen his jealous ex and Risa a waitress in the hotel they’re staying in, are the only ones who can rescue her.
