Luka got home a little before six. 

When he finished work, he made a quick stop at the shops to buy ingredients for dinner—among other necessities. As he stood in the elevator of his apartment building, Luka considered greeting Xander with the classic ‘Honey, I'm home!’ line. He humoured the idea with a chuckle, but ultimately decided against it. Best not to send mixed signals. 

Carrying his grocery bag with one hand and his keys in another, Luka slid the metal into the lock and pushed the door open before stepping inside.

“Welcome home,” Xander greeted him first. He stood at the kitchen sink, gloved hands holding one of the plates from that morning. 

Luka smiled at the nostalgic sight. He used to come home to this very same scene, except with Lana in Xander’s place, when they first moved in together. Over the years, though, Elliot started spending more time at their apartment, and the days when Luka would return home to not one, but two lovely ladies in his apartment began to increase. 

Until one day he returned to an empty home.

It had been a month since Lana moved out, and Luka hadn’t realised how much he missed coming home to someone until today. 

“Thanks,” he said back to Xander, pressing his lips together tightly so as not to call Xander ‘honey’.

As he entered the kitchen, Luka began unpacking his green grocery bag: half a dozen cage-free eggs, a 2-litre bottle of coke, and a ten-pack of mi goreng noodles. Holding up the noodles for Xander to see, Luka gestured his hand underneath it like a showgirl on an old TV game show. 

“Tah-dah!” he sang happily. “This is mi goreng.”

Xander glanced at the red and white packaging as he continued to wash the dishes in the sink. 

“Definitely haven't tried that before,” he admitted before rinsing and stacking the dishes on the metal wire rack. 

“Mate, you are in for a treat!” Luka excitedly opened the larger packet and pulled out three smaller individual packets. 

“Do you want any help with cooking?” Xander unplugged the sink and ungloved his hands. He rinsed them before looking around for a tea towel. 

“Nah, you relax,” Luka said while opening the drawer next to the sink and taking out a medium-sized pot. 

“Where's your tea towel?” Xander asked, changing the topic. 

“Lana took them all when she moved out,” Luka replied. “They were hers, after all. I haven't used a tea towel in weeks.”

Dumbfounded, Xander stood like a water fountain that had just been turned off, his wet hands dripping water onto the tiles. 

“You haven't used one in weeks?” he repeated, blinking several times. “How have you been drying your hands?” 

Luka pretended to wipe his dry hands on his pants with a smile before gesturing for Xander to do the same. Then, without waiting, he moved the pot to the sink and started filling it with water. 

“Serious?” Xander reluctantly mimicked Luka's actions and dried his hands on his pants. “And how have you been drying the dishes?”

“I've been letting them air dry before putting them away.” Luka could feel Xander's judgemental gaze burn into him as he moved the pot—now full of water—to the stove. 

“Wow. I didn't realise I moved in with a caveman,” Xander teased, interlocking his fingers behind his head and leaning against the fridge door. 

“Excuse me?” Luka put on his playful dramatic voice while turning on the stove. “Here I am, slaving away in the kitchen to make us a delicious dinner and all I get from you is sass? Fuck you, mate.”

Luka returned to the counter and began opening the mi goreng packets, separating the noodles from the seasonings. “If you're going to judge me, then get out of my kitchen so I can cook in peace.”

Pushing himself off the fridge, Xander walked around to the other side of the counter and smiled smugly at Luka. His golden eyes narrowed, and the little dimple in his cheek deepened as his lips curled upwards. 

“Yeah, nah. I think I'll judge you from right here.” He rested his elbows on the countertop.

Luka threw a seasoning packet at his face. 

“Ow!” 

“Alright,” Luka said. “But you're making yourself useful while you judge.”

He proceeded to slide all the other seasoning packets to Xander one by one. Two fell onto the floor and Xander had to bend down to pick them up. 

“I did offer to help before,” Xander said, popping back up into view with the seasonings in hand. 

Luka grabbed a pair of scissors and a large mixing bowl from one of the drawers, placing them in front of Xander. 

“And I graciously insisted that you relax after a long hard day at work,” Luka said in his dramatic voice. “But I see you've chosen slavery over your freedom.”

“Slavery?!” Xander repeated, raising an eyebrow. 

“Cut them open, slave.” Luka extended his arm as if to exaggerate the distance between them, pointing to the tools in front of him. 

“How did we go from talking about tea towels to you calling me a slave?” Xander asked with a laugh. Yet he still obeyed Luka's commands and began cutting open the seasoning packets, emptying them into the mixing bowl.

Their silly banter continued as they cooked dinner together. Luka kept ordering Xander around, but the latter didn't seem to mind. Like a loyal dog following its owner's commands, Xander obediently did as he was told, and at one point Luka wondered if Xander would be interested in some sub and dom play—he could order Xander to do so much more than just mix seasonings. But Luka quickly dismissed those thoughts and chose to focus on enjoying his friend's company instead.  

Once dinner was ready, the two moved to the couch. Just like the night before, they sat side by side, turned ever so slightly to face one another. Although tonight they sat maybe just an inch closer together. 

“Mmmm, this is pretty good!” Xander exclaimed with a mouth full of food. 

“Right?! I told you you were in for a treat!” Luka used his chopsticks to shovel noodles into his mouth, and a bit of sauce collected at the corner of his lips which he licked away with his tongue. He noticed Xander’s gaze and smiled. “And you can add anything to this; eggs, bacon, carrot or peas, and it becomes a restaurant-quality meal.”

“Cool.”

Xander reached for his glass of soft drink that sat on the floor next to his foot. With the absence of a table, the two men needed to place their drinks on the floor and bend over any time they wanted a drink. It wasn’t ideal and the groaning Xander made as he straightened back up showed how uncomfortable he found the arrangement.

“So,” he began. “Where are we getting a coffee table from on Sunday?”

Luka broke his egg with his chopsticks and watched the gooey yellow yolk ooze over his noodles, creating a perfect additional sauce. 

“I was thinking Salvos, or maybe Vinnie's,” Luka answered while mixing his noodles together. “Unless you had somewhere else in mind.”

“No, I was just thinking of buying some tea towels while we were out.”

“Really making yourself at home, ey?”

“Not my fault I have a higher standard of living.”

“Oooh,” Luka cooed. “Mister fancypants over here.”

“Shut up.” Xander playfully kicked Luka's shin. 

“Hey!” Firmly holding his bowl with both hands, Luka shuffled back along the couch until he pressed against the armrest. “Australia says no to violence.”

“But yes to you calling me a slave earlier?” Xander raised an eyebrow. 

The little curl on Luka's lips, coupled with his lack of a comeback, showed he knew when he was defeated. 

“Okay, okay,” Luka said, shuffling back to his previous spot. Or, actually, maybe he sat just an extra inch closer to Xander. Not that the latter seemed to mind. “You’re not a slave. But you are good at following orders.” 

Xander raised a brow. “What orders?”

“When we were cooking together.” Luka said. 

“I was just helping out,” Xander explained. “I wouldn't really call any of the things you asked me to do an order, per se.”

“Hm, I guess not. But either way, I liked having you in the kitchen with me. You're good company.”

The compliment made Xander blush slightly, and although Luka thought it made him look cute, it was also not the reaction he expected. 

“We used to cook Friday night dinners together when I was growing up,” Xander said, his voice sounding sentimental. “Before my parents got divorced.”

“Is that so?” Luka said, stuffing more noodles into his mouth. 

“Yeah, my mum was big on it. She used to let me crack the eggs into the bowl, but my dad hated the mess I would make.” He let out a weak chuckle, and for a split second, Luka saw the face of a younger Xander, happily cooking in the kitchen with his parents. But then the childlike joy disappeared and was replaced by the hardened face of a disappointed adult.

“You don't do much cooking at home now?” Luka asked, mouth still full of half-chewed noodles. 

“Nah. Dad and Eleni, that's Dad’s girlfriend, they've got their own thing now. Backyard garden, homemade bread and pasta, slow cooker days, there's never a time when one of them isn't in the kitchen.” Xander said. “I don't really want to get in their way.”

Xander had always been the considerate type. But Luka knew that he really wanted to relive those childhood days with his family. 

“Well, you can get in my way any day,” Luka offered with a smile. He felt a connection with Xander. They were two lonely souls reminiscing about their gone days with friends and family. 

Slowly twirling his noodles with his fork—but not yet eating them—Xander smiled meekly as he spoke. “... So, you're suggesting we do this again tomorrow.”

His voice was so soft that Luka almost missed it. Almost. 

“Sure!” Luka agreed with exuberance that he hoped would rub off on Xander—since he wouldn't be able to rub much of Xander off these days. “What do you want for dinner tomorrow?” 

Xander shoved a forkful of noodles into his mouth to stop himself from smiling too much. It didn't work. 

“What else can you make?” he eventually asked after swallowing.

“Mate, I can make anything as long as you show me a YouTube video,” Luka claimed confidently. Whether what he said was true or not was yet to be proven. 

“Big claims for a man who basically made two minute noodles for dinner.”

“Don't act like you're not enjoying it.”

The little dimple on Xander's cheek deepened as he laughed again. 

“How about fish and chips tomorrow?” he suggested. 

“I can do that.” Luka reached for his drink on the floor. “I'll go shopping for ingredients again after work tomorrow.”

“Let me buy the ingredients tomorrow,” Xander insisted, gently knocking his foot against the spot on Luka's leg that he had previously kicked. “You shouldn't have to pay for groceries every night.” 

Luka shrugged. “Alright. I ain't gonna fight you there.”

As he sipped his drink, Luka kept his violet eyes fixed on Xander's golden ones. The man in front of him was sweet, earnest, hardworking, and most of all he was sexy as fuck. Luka knew Xander was a catch, and any person would consider themselves lucky to date him. But Luka didn't want to date him, or anyone else for that matter. 

Yet here they were, sitting awfully close to one another while eating a homemade meal like a married couple. If they had been a couple, Xander would have been wasted on Luka—at least, that was the sentiment that Luka held.

Luka enjoyed spending time with Xander. But when he recalled how jealous Xander had been when they were in Sydney together—how he was envious of Luka's friends, and how he wanted Luka to feel jealous too—Luka found himself wanting distance between them. Jealousy was not sexy. 

“By the way,” he eventually said, standing up and offering to take Xander's now-empty bowl. “You won't be back until the afternoon on Sunday, right?” 

Xander remained seated as he handed Luka his bowl and glass. 

“That's right,” he answered. 

“Great,” Luka began. “I'm bringing someone home on Saturday, so as per our agreement, I’m letting you know in advance.” 

Somehow, the words felt offensive coming out of his mouth, like he had stabbed Xander in the front with a knife. He hated this feeling. But Luka needed to reinforce their friendship as just that, a friendship. He also needed to get laid so that he'd stop thinking about ways to ruin that friendship. He carried the dirty bowls over to the sink without looking back at Xander.

“Cheers,” was the first word to come out of Xander's mouth. “Don’t forget to use protection.”

Surprised by the joke—or perhaps he was serious—Luka's eyes quickly shot back to Xander, who remained on the couch but had turned his body around to face the kitchen. His eyes set on Luka, and his lips pressed into a tight smile. Luka could tell that Xander was uncomfortable—who wouldn't be when their ex-crush just told them they'd be sleeping with someone else—but he had tried to make a joke of the situation, and Luka appreciated that.

With a toothy grin, Luka replied in a mock whining voice, “Yes, mum.”

That got a scoff out of Xander. 

“Shouldn't I be dad?” he asked, not really considering the implications. 

“Do you really want me to call you daddy?” Luka teased in an almost flirty voice. He really had to hold himself back from saying that last word in a sultry tone. 

“God, no. Please don't.” Xander covered his blushing face with his hand. “Jesus, I walked right into that one, didn't I?” 

The two joked around for a little longer before Luka decided it was time for bed. After brushing his teeth and bidding Xander goodnight, Luka went to his room and undressed before hitting the hay. 

‘Ah! I forgot to wash my sheets,’ Luka realised, as a faint, familiar scent surrounded him. 

He closed his eyes, and enjoyed the nostalgia before peacefully falling asleep.