pocketpretzels | Midnight Manor Private Residence, Saturday Afternoon

"I find it soothing," Watts said. "Usually," he added, with a glance towards the lopsided biscuit.

"I love all the times you bake for us," Steven said. He went to slice another biscuit. "But I like how doing it on Saturday is part of the routine now. It's nice. Homey."

"I like- having a home in which to perform said routine," Watts replied. "With you."

Sure, Steven wasn't always as explicitly involved in the baking as he was today, but it was still done for them to share.

"Is this what it feels like for you when you come home to a hot dinner?" Steven asked. "That it's home?"

Watts nodded. "That's it exactly."

Steven smiled fondly. "I like that. I like that a great deal, actually. That's part of what I'm hoping to make for you when I do that. Besides the dinner."

"You do wonderfully," Watts told him.

"Like you're coming home to a partner who loves and takes care of you?" Steven asked, hopefully.

"Like I am coming home to the love of my life, who loves me in return and takes excellent care of me," Watts replied.

"Good." Steven kissed Llewellyn's cheek. "That's precisely what I'm going for. Sort of feel as though the smells are part of it? You come home and it's all your senses telling you you're cared for?"

"That's a lovely way to put it," Watts agreed, selecting another biscuit and slowly slicing through it.

"You inspire me to poetry," Steven said. He watched Llewellyn work with a fond expression.

Watts was vaguely aware of Steven's eyes on him, but was mostly focused on attempting to slice through the biscuit- the end result being not quite as even as his second try, but not as lopsided as the first either.

"Am I distracting you?" Steven asked.

"Hm?" Watts made a questioning noise, frowning at the result of his efforts.

"Watching you," Steven said. "Is that distracting?"

"Er," Watts said. "No? Why do you ask?"

"Sometimes it can feel strange to do things while someone watches you," Steven explained. "I didn't want to put me enjoying seeing you work over your comfort about it."

"I enjoy being near you," Watts pointed out. "If I didn't want you here as I work, I would have said already."

"All right." Steven cut one of the biscuits in front of him. "I do like it though. Watching you work."

"Why is that?" Watts felt compelled to ask.

"Because it's something you enjoy," Steven said. "It's something you care about doing well. It's like watching you play the piano. Seeing you concentrate and work to learn."

"Oh," Watts said, mulling that over. "I suppose I- I never considered it that way."

"And it's you working with your hands," Steven said.

Sometimes with forearms on display.

"Now that," Watts turned to face Steven, reaching out to brush his fingers along his shirt collar. "I was aware of. That you liked what my hands were capable of."

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