Which brought him to the current situation. He glanced at his phone, intending to search for tutorials, when he saw a message from Raphael. It was a few YouTube links? He clicked on one.

The first thing he saw was a video titled "How to Make Simple and Delicious Lunch Bentos for Your Husband!" This brat—

He took a breath, looking past the title. So, the bastard had just sent him links to bento tutorials when he was the one asking for it in the first place. He'd even followed up each video with a message about what specifically he wanted from each one. Oh, so Elias was just his personal chef now, is that it? He huffed, though his hands had already started taking out the ingredients and clicking on the first link.

He glanced over the list of ingredients he needed. It was basically just a typical bento: a few eggs, salad, some rice, and... huh? There was a particular request, a note attached to it. The bastard was requesting sushi. Sushi, of all things. Elias clicked his tongue under his breath, already starting to dice up some vegetables. He didn’t even know how to make sushi. Could he even make sushi?

He was vegetarian, so how could he make meat? But he was a surgeon, so technically, he should be able to slice and cut meat. So confusing... He just hoped he wouldn’t feel nauseous.

Elias sighed, his eyes darting over the instructions. It was... surprisingly easy. He hummed under his breath, carefully filling the rice cooker with the necessary ingredients before turning it on. He turned his attention to the dicing station, taking a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing. He could do it. It’s just sushi. Because that bastard would probably whine and throw a tantrum if he didn’t.

This meat doesn’t even have blood, so it should be easier, right? He’s a surgeon; he could handle meat. Yes.

He swallowed, picking up a piece of raw, meaty fish. It looked disgusting, the way the flesh was raw and gelatinous, and the way it felt slimy between his fingers. He bit back the nausea, taking the chef's knife. He did know how to use a knife, that’s for sure, and he raised it over the fish. The situation almost felt comically ironic—he, who could handle stressful situations in the OT while dealing with much bloodier and more delicate situations, was having a crisis over cutting some fish.

Elias let out a breath, steeling himself. God, he needed gloves. He looked through the cupboards before finding a much-needed pair of disposable gloves. He quickly put them on, and looked at the fish once again. Right. He could do this. Just make pretty, bite-sized pieces of raw fish. He could do this. He had to. He was a surgeon, after all. A harder, more stressful version of this was literally his job.

...God, that’s even more nauseating.

“Suck it up, Elias. You can do it,” he told himself, when his phone buzzed with a message. From Raphael. "Don’t make sushi—I just remembered you're vegetarian."

He knew he shouldn’t, but... he felt his heart skip a beat. Raphael... remembered.

Still, the moment of appreciation vanished as soon as he looked at the mess in front of him. Right—that bastard put him to this... task. The least he could do is care! No need to feel so touched! He let the knife fall from his hands, and the first thing he did was pick up the meat, throwing it in the trash. Now, he wasn’t the type to waste food, but that smell and sight were making him feel lightheaded. He looked down at the phone in front of him—there were follow-up messages.

“Oh, by the way, make me breakfast too. Fruit sandwiches.”

Which was followed by another tutorial. And a...“Thanks wifey~ *kiss emoji*"

It’s a good thing that the bastard wasn’t in front of him, or he might be tempted to strangle him with the IV drip.

“F**king hell,” he muttered to himself. He really did forget who he was dealing with. Of course, Raphael would be demanding a breakfast bento too. At this point, it seemed like Raphael was treating him no better than a maid or a chef. But he couldn’t back down. He just couldn’t. He needed to feed the man, because who else would? Definitely not the nurses, that’s for sure.

“Bastard...” he grumbled, but still walked to the fridge, taking out and washing the fruits.

He set to work once again, cooking the ingredients and following whatever ridiculous requests the man had. He mumbled constant profanities for a certain lawyer under his breath the whole time, cursing a little as he tried to follow the instructions, which sounded so easy at first but... oh, how wrong he was. What needed to be cooked wasn’t cooking, what needed to be crispy wasn’t crispy, the rice was clumpy, and the animal shapes he tried to carve looked like mutilated, suffering beings. It was all edible, but it looked horrible. It could be described as child-like at best, he thought.

Well... he tried. The fruit sandwiches... probably have a good personality.

He stared down again at the finished bento he made. He had to admit, it looked... adorable, in a way. But that’s probably because it looked like a child made it. It was cute for a child, but for a grown-ass man over thirty... it just looked pathetic.

The fruit sandwiches were probably the worst out of everything he had made. The whipped cream he had used was smeared all over the place like a child did it, with how haphazardly he had spread it on the bread. Somehow, a glob of fluffy white sweetness had found its way to his cheek and chin. His pink tongue darted out, licking the cream off his lip.

“Mhm...” he mumbled out a satisfied sigh. Despite being sugar-free and low in fat, it was pretty good—he had been careful with the ingredients, at least. The doctor in him would always refuse to make unhealthy food, and that was a given. Sugar-free cream with minimal fat, check. He also used a moderate amount of salt, because high blood pressure was the last thing he wanted to give a patient who’d had a heart problem just a few days ago.

The sandwiches went in the fridge as he arranged everything else inside the lunchboxes one last time, before closing them. Then, he went to sleep.