December Challenge #26 Breakfast for Taka/Kaidan
from this list
On AO3 here
Thank you for asking about them! This is a bit light on the breakfast, but once it took off, I couldn’t stop it! lol
~~~
It’s the near quiet that wakes him; that muffled silence that comes with new fallen snow. As he wakes to soft birdsong drifting somewhere beyond the windows, the steady, even breathing of his husband lying next to him, Takao Shepard breathes in deeply the hint of winter that fills the air. Memory floods as consciousness returns, and with them comes peace.
Carefully extricating himself from their bed and leaving Kaidan to sleep his fill, Takao stretches. There is an unexpected desire, an urgency on this morning to watch the sun rise from home, so much so he cannot ignore it.
He dresses quickly and snags his small art bag on the way outside. Softly, he pads through the halls, noting as he goes that the house has not changed much in the years since his departure; though dark and still, he knows his way through these halls well. But there is one place he knows best, and that he makes his first destination. He mission today is of a far different sort than those of recent weeks; there are no rogue spectres, geth, or reapers chasing him, no Cerberus labs or experiments gone wrong. Those battles are over, for now at least.
He enters the small dojo, setting his bag to the side along with his shoes. A quick glance outside assures him he has time before the sun rises, so he pays his respects first. Kneeling, he thinks of otaasan and obaachan, wonders briefly what they would think of him these days, then moves on into his daily warm up routine. Some minutes later, he finishes as just the barest hint of sun starts brightening the skies near the edge of the mountains. Grabbing his bag, retrieving his shoes, he heads out into the small fenced in yard. It is time.
A rickety old ladder remains nailed to the side of the large maple tree and leads up to a wooden platform secured over two strong branches. It is surprising to find it still in place after all these years, but that thought is as fleeting as the breeze. Taka climbs without hesitation, remembering back to when he was seventeen and before he left for Vancouver, before his life changed forever. As then, the ladder wobbles a bit, and one of the planks on the platform shifts awkwardly beneath his weight, but his old thinking spot has survived the test of time. He settles quickly, smiling to himself and recalling Kasumi and Hajime and their adventures here as children. As the smile fades, he reaches for his bag.
The morning skies are loosening their hold on the dark of night by the time he is ready. Takao sketches quickly, just a hint of line, of shape, only then does he reach for the brush and paints. Beneath his hands, the page takes on form and color; within minutes, the sun is risen for the day, the chill of the December air biting at the back of his neck, chasing down his spine beneath the thin kimono, but he takes no notice. His focus is on the scene before him, the page coming to life. Finally, with a soft sigh, he sets the pad to lie atop his bag and carefully wraps his brush, closes his paints, and slides them inside. With that complete, he turns his attention to the day around him.
A soft blanket of snow covers the ground, disturbed here and there where his path took him this morning. The breeze, though cool, is not so bad, even out of his armor, and he takes a moment to appreciate the way it flutters across his face and toys with his hair. Five more days, and they will return to the Normandy, their mission to continue; scenes like this, the memory of winter, will fade with time, but he wishes to retain it.
The creak of the ladder alerts him he is no longer alone. He smiles, moves his art bag out of the way and scoots over to give Kaidan room to sit behind him. “You should have woken me,” the man murmurs as he sits, wrapping his arms around Takao’s as he rests his chin on his shoulder.
Takao leans back, content in the warmth of their bodies so close to one another. “It has been many years since I watched the sun rise here,” he murmurs in response.
“Hmm. It’s beautiful.” Kaidan presses an energy bar into Taka’s hand. “Not much in the way of breakfast, I know, but I thought maybe …?”
Takao chuckles, turning his head to press a quick kiss to Kaidan’s temple as he wonders at how luck has dealt them such a wonderful hand. “Since you bring me this gift,” he reaches for the painting, now mostly dry, “I have one for you in return.”
He tilts the pad so the images are clear. His husband’s soft gasp fans warm air across Takao’s neck; he shivers despite himself. “For me?” Kaidan asks.
“Hai.” He hands over the pad so it can be viewed more closely and settles back against Kaidan’s shoulder. “I have missed living here,” he observes quietly. “Like many, I took the beauty for granted until it was too late. However,” he half turns in Kaidan’s arms to look up at him, runs his fingers down the side of Kaidan’s face. “I would not trade it for anything else in the world, Kaede, because it brought me to you. You understand this, yes?”
Kaidan’s arm around his waist tightens and he leans into the touch briefly before he smiles and whispers in reply, “That I do.”