Laughing openly at the excited little angel Kuro pats him in the back as he rushes off into the house to get washed up. [i]”Ah, I see food being a great motivator in the future. I better brush up on my cooking skills then'[/i] The demon moves at a more leisurely pace, coming to a stop just before the porch. “So, how am I doing? See anything messed up?”

From behind him a voice chuckles from the darkness. “You are fine little brother, at least from what I can see.” Dani chuckles one last time before retreating back into the barn.

Letting out a long sigh Kuro vaguely wonders if Dani is just telling him what he wants to hear, counting down the hours until some catastrophic event that will damage his energy and call their father to his side. However he shakes off the thought with a huff. [i]'No, he's too interested in my Little Mouse right now to be giving thought to such things. He's far simpler than that when it comes to the stuff that catches his attention'[/i] Kuro makes his way inside, rinsing off in the kitchen sink before perusing the shelves to try and figure out what to make. He hums and hahs, tilting his head this way and that before finally making his decision.

Pulling out what he needs he grabs an old pot from beneath the counter and rises it out before setting some water to boil, snatching up a saucepan and setting it on the stove as well. Working quickly he has the sauce simmering, the noodles boiling, and the crumbs browning in the oven by the time Aoba comes down. Hearing him call out the demon whirls, his head dropping almost comically to the side as he checks out Aoba's bare legs, a naughty smile trying desperately to tug his lips wide, however he manages to hold it back and instead give the smaller male a warm smile while looking him in the eyes. “Why yes, if you'd really like to. We need four celery stalks to chopped up into half inch chunks, need me to demonstrate?”

~*~*~*~*~

Fenrir, finally at home for the evening, decides to take one last look at the mirror and finds himself promptly setting it face down on his bedside table. A long string of stifled laughter pours of of him, his hand clamped over his mouth, his other over his stomach. The sight of a demon cooking is just too much after the day he's had, and now all his stress bubbles out of him in the form of a long hard, firmly stifled, laugh.