“Yeah.” Noah grinned. “It’s your fault, you know. You created a monster.”
“Lucky for you I have them by the dozens.”
“Cool. That. That’s what I wanna do today then. Just me, you, and lots of TV.”
“Consider it done, dear boy.”
Alistair finished the omelets, enough for everyone including Erasmus and Crybaby, and he and Alistair ate together at the little table. Even though Noah hadn’t been that hungry, he ended up finishing the whole thing.
Erasmus came in to claim his plate and then headed back out to the living room, promising an update on the cleanup after he made a few phone calls. Crybaby was still limping, and Alistair insisted on her taking his chair to eat.
Alistair then pulled Noah over to help wash the dishes.
By hand.
Because there was no dishwasher.
It was greasy and gross, but Noah found himself enjoying falling into a rhythm of washing, rinsing, and passing them over to Alistair to dry. The way their hips bumped from being side by side at the sink was nice, and the memories of what had happened last night seemed far away.
All that mattered now was figuring out how to steal kisses and get some soap bubbles on Alistair’s nose, and then try not to curse when Alistair proved he was much better at wrestling than any old man had a right to be.
After cleaning up the rest of the mess in the kitchen caused from their impromptu bout, Alistair ushered Noah into the living room. Crybaby had left already, and Erasmus kept to himself outside, probably being creepy and not blinking ever or whatever it was he did.
Alistair opened the doors of a large cabinet, revealing a flat screen television hidden inside. He pulled out a video cassette to put on, and Noah actually laughed.
“Is that a VHS?” he asked. “Like an honest to God video tape?”
“Yes.” Alistair smirked, joining Noah on the couch.
“God, you’re so old.” Noah cozied up to Alistair’s side, grinning as his arm dropped around his shoulders.
“Hush.”
“Sorry. I’ve just never seen one outside of a museum before.”
Alistair smacked Noah’s arm. “Behave.”
Noah chuckled to himself, watching Alistair work the remote to switch channels over to get the VCR’s input on screen.
It was still early, not quite lunch time, and Noah was surprised by how at peace he was at this very moment. The lingering danger of whoever wanted to kill him remained, but he felt safe here. He was sated from that quick romp before breakfast, full of good food, and he didn’t even mind the ugly clothes so much.
“Is it always gonna be like this?”
“What?”
“This…” Noah snuggled in close. “Nice.”
“It certainly can be, dear boy.” Alistair rubbed his back. “It can be whatever you want it to be.”
“I like this.”
“Then it’s yours.” Alistair smiled warmly.
“Good.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, I think I’m good.” Noah fidgeted. “Okay, except maybe better threads. I look like I’m gonna go hug a tree or something.”
