32 - Midnight Munchies

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Soft snores of your boyfriend, Keith, filled the room, as you lay awake, staring at the ceiling and tapping your fingers against the sheets that you had pulled up to your chest. For an hour, near enough, you had been trying to sleep, but to no avail, you found yourself wide awake, a hunger bubbling in your stomach.

"I shouldn't have given him my last slice of pizza,", you grumbled, peeling the blankets off and leaving the bed, bare legs developing goosebumps as they made contact with the crisp, night air. After slipping on Keith's red lion slippers, you scampered down the stairs of your house, navigating your way to the kitchen with your phone torch, then turning a small lamp on to illuminate the room as you manoeuvred around the kitchen, finding the ingredients you needed. "Flour, sugar, eggs, butter, chocolate chips... that's everything,"

With the pile of different foods now collated in your arms, you struggled to place it down on the breakfast bar before grabbing a bowl, scales and whisk. With your late-night hunger, what better way to satisfy it than to bake cookies? Keith had mentioned how much he wanted some earlier today, anyway, so there was no harm in making them for him to have in the morning. "Alexa, play my baking playlist, quietly,"

Once you had set the oven to preheat, you made yourself comfortable, perched on a stool as you made your cookie batter, occasionally eating a chocolate chip as you worked. When a catchy song came on, you would hum along softly, wiggling in your chair as you danced to the beat.

Your body moved with a rhythm as you dug through the cupboard, looking for the baking trays you were sure you had bought when you moved in. Hips swaying, you stood back up, shimmying over to your workspace with the lack of sleep now getting to you.

"Maybe I should do lion cookies,", you mumbled, placing some baking paper onto the tray. "Actually, no. Way too difficult. Circles. I can say they're planets,", your ramblings contributed nothing to your current situation, but you giggled anyway, grabbing an ice cream scoop so that your cookies would be the same size. Just as you did, however, one of your favourite songs came on.

"Oh my god, I love this song!", abandoning your cookie dough, you held the ice cream scoop up to your mouth as a prop, belting the lyrics out as you danced around, body moving in ways it wouldn't normally as you let go, in your own little world of karaoke and cookies.

Upstairs, Keith was abruptly pulled from his slumber at the voice that carried throughout the house, meeting his ears and making him jolt upright. Rubbing his eyes, the ravenette strained to make sense of what was happening, not registering the words being said, but knowing exactly who was saying them.

"What is she up to this time?", he asked himself, pushing the blanket off and searching for his slippers, but finding no trace of the crimson-red fabric. "Oh my god, she stole my slippers. Seriously? That girl...", he instead rifled through his sock drawer, retrieving a pair of your fuzzy socks -- you stole his things first, in his defence -- and pulled them on before padding down the stairs, moving quietly so that he didn't disturb you.

Through the glass door, he gazed at you, admired you as your body moved effortlessly, the light fabric you wore to sleep lifting slightly and exposing your flawless skin to the dim light. Shadows danced over your body, but as you spun, he saw the way your face illuminated, the way you smiled brightly as you drew in a breath for the next lyric. And, of course, he noticed the red, oversized slippers on your feet.

"Oh, right! I need to do that,", you reminded yourself, sauntering back over to the trays and finally sorting out the batter, filling two trays with the round spheres of chocolate delight that you had been craving for the past few hours. "And now these can go in the oven,", you picked the trays up, preparing to walk over to the oven, but jumping at the sound of the door opening. You placed the trays back down hastily, hand shooting out for an object to defend yourself.

"Whoever's in here, get the hell out before I get my boyfriend. He helped take down the Galra Empire, so he won't hesitate to beat your ass,", you threatened, heart pounding in your chest as you pivoted, wide-eyed as you fought to keep your composure. Luckily, it wasn't an intruder. "Keith?"

"You were really planning to hit someone with a rubber spatula?", he quirked a brow, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement as he stared at you, all flustered and messy-haired from your dance party. "It might take a little more than that to ward someone off, love,"

"Shut up. It's a perfectly adequate weapon,", you argued as he approached, arms slithering around your waist as he buried his face into your neck. You loved when he did this. Loved when he held you close, chest flat against your back as his warm breath fanned over your skin, his scent intoxicating you and reminding you that you were safe, home, in his arms.

"To kill a mosquito, maybe,", he chuckled, each syllable triggering a vibration on your upper back. "Ow!", he yelped as you swatted his hand with the spatula. "What was that for?", he pulled away, rubbing his hand, which was slowly turning pink, with a frown.

"Just testing,", you shrugged, gesturing to the spatula. "You were right. It is a good weapon for mosquitos,", with that, you spun on your heels, picked up one of the trays and slid it into the oven, repeating the process for the other and smirking to yourself as you watched his face contort as he registered your words.

"You-you- y/n!", he fumbled over his words, and you giggled as you closed the oven door. "First you steal my slippers and now you're using my own kitchen utensils against me and calling me a mosquito. This can't carry on,", he shook his head, hands sliding to your sides and tickling you as you gasped, curling in on yourself as you tried to move away from him.

"Keith, no, stop!", you screeched between giggles, abandoning the spatula as you attempted to pry his hands away.

"Not until you apologise,", he explained, laughing along with you as he swept you up into his arms.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!", you gave in, and he hummed in approval, ceasing his tickle attack and allowing you to catch your breath, a hand running through your hair and pushing it back, smoothing it back after your thrashing around, no doubt, made it even more unruly than before. "I'm sorry you refuse to accept your mosquito-esque,"

"What was that?", he challenged, snapping his head towards you as you smiled innocently, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

"Oh, nothing,", you lied, still grinning. He narrowed his eyes for a moment before sighing and kissing your forehead.

"Watch yourself, future Mrs Kogane,", he warned, giving a smile in return as you realised what he had called you.

"Did I hear that right?", you questioned, choking on your own spit as you gawked at him.

"Huh? I didn't say anything,", he brushed it off, grabbing a glass and filling it with milk in preparation for the cookies he was going to eat. He lowered himself onto the stool you had previously inhabited, taking a sip from the glass and watching as you freaked out.

"No. No, you definitely said something. You called me future Mrs Kogane,", you rambled, walking up to him and crouching, hands on his thighs to steady yourself. "Was that a proposal? Because I didn't get any say, and it was so random. Could you not have given me a chance to, I don't know, not look like roadkill?"

"Relax, darling,", he sighed, bringing a hand to your cheek and caressing it. "I'm not trying to propose just yet. Let's just enjoy not fighting a war for now, yeah? C'mere,", he retracted his hand and opened his arms, and you smiled, allowing him to bring you closer to him, bringing your lips together for a quick peck before nuzzling in closer.

"Keith?"

"Yes, love?"

"The cookies might be burning,"

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