It starts with some of the most mediocre eggs Taako’s ever clapped eyes on. Seven out of ten for taste. Zero out of ten for plating. Somehow, they’re still the best damn eggs he’s ever eaten.
(Or: Taako realizes he loves Kravitz back.)
Taako wakes to a smooth, rich baritone wafting down the halls of his home.
He growls at the sunlight streaming through his windows as he rolls out of bed. In a quick flick of his wrist he changes out of his sleep shorts and into a flowing nightgown. Sure, Kravitz saw him fall asleep in his shorts, but this nightgown is an aesthetic he’s hella proud of - there are sequins pressed in layers down the back of the gown, right over his shoulderblades, reading out the double-Ts that are part of the Taako brand, baby. Rhinestones glitter down his arms, from shoulder to a fabric hook over his middle finger, so if he needs to flip someone off, he can do so with extra pizzazz.