It was the evening of the next day. Elias had an almost disbelieving expression on his face as he stared at the kitchen. He was standing there with an apron around his waist, two large bags of groceries sitting on the counter.

Now, why was a man who practically lived on takeout and pre made salads standing in the kitchen? Come to think of it, it was the first time he had really looked at the large kitchen of his penthouse.

Well… Raphael had been… demanding. What did he want? Lunch. Specifically, he was demanding homemade bentos from Elias. Which, according to Raphael, was somehow crucial to his recovery.

Elias had almost burst out laughing when the man said that. It was just so… ridiculous. But of course, even he had to agree that the food in the hospital cafeteria, though very healthy and made from organic ingredients, wasn't the most appetizing.

He couldn't help but remember how, in the morning, he'd been urgently called to Raphael's room to discuss some very important matters. And he'd walked in to see… Raphael pouting like a sulky child at a broccoli and peas sandwich. Now that was… new.

He couldn't help but replay the whole conversation in his head, remembering the earlier scene.

Raphael grumbled under his breath, crossing his arms and pouting with a childlike frown on his face. The way he was currently sitting, pillows propped up against his back and a blanket pooled around his lap, with the sleeves of his hospital gown rolled up to his elbows, he looked positively like a child throwing a tantrum because he wasn't being given any candy. "The cafeteria food is disgusting, angel. They add too much oil and salt. I'm going to die of sodium overdose at this rate."

The statement and situation had been so ridiculous, Elias hadn't even noticed the nickname or bothered to correct him.

About the statement- Elias wanted to call bullshit. A hospital? No way that was true. "The food from the cafeteria is enough. You get all the nutrients you're supposed to get."

Raphael just huffed, letting himself fall backward against the pillows. He looked at Elias with a pout, before whining almost petulantly. "I'm not lying, angel… Hospital food is atrocious, and I'd rather have some homemade food than that bland, disgusting thing they serve as food. And it'll taste even better made by your skilled hands, doctor." He smiled his signature flirty smile, leaning back against the pillows.

After some more back and forth, Elias' resolve was gradually weakening. And Raphael knew. He knew Elias was about to give in—he just had to play the pity card a little more.

Elias had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes. He knew the other man was just playing the poor, sick patient card. But damn, he was still as convincing as ever when he pouted, and he wouldn't be lying if he said it still affected him. He grumbled under his breath before replying, "…And you want me to make bentos for you? Seriously? I can't even cook," he tried to justify himself.

Raphael bit back a smug smile as he saw how hard Elias was struggling to stay unaffected. Well, he might be hiding his feelings well, but all the subtle little giveaways were apparent to Raphael, who knew him better. He huffed, "You have to make me bentos, doctor. I'm a sick man. I'm bed bound. Who else is going to feed me, if not you? The nurses?"

That one line made Elias freeze. He knew better, but still, irrational jealousy crept in. "… No."

"Don't ask anyone else."

Raphael hid the pleased smile that threatened to spread across his lips as he heard the hint of possessiveness in the doctor's voice. Bingo. The other had taken the bait already, and he'd barely laid it out. He knew Elias was still affected by him. The little possessive reaction, the way his voice sounded when he said, "Don't ask anyone else," was more than enough proof. And he'd be lying if he said it didn't make him giddy.

Raphael hummed, a soft smirk on his face, "But I need someone to do it, doctor. I can't just starve or eat this abomination to every god out there and Gordon Ramsey, you know? If you can’t… I guess I’ll just have to ask the nurses. But I know nothing can compare to your lovingly prepared bento, doctor. Unfortunately, since you’re unwilling, I guess I’ll just have to ask the nurses—"

"…I’ll do it."

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AN- honestly tho, can't blame Raphael. Peas are disgusting. Please comment on how you think the story is so far! Oh, btw- new art! I'm not saying this is a future plot point... But I'm not denying it. (⸝⸝>_>⸝⸝) Anyways, please consider leaving a comment, it makes me really happy to hear from you all!