Ethan woke to the sound of something sizzling.
His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the morning light filtering through the curtains.
The blanket was still tucked around him, the couch cushions soft beneath him.
He sat up, blinking away sleep, following the sound—and the smell of coffee.
Gabriel stood at the stove, still in his sleep pants and an old t-shirt, hair slightly mussed, spatula in hand.
Ethan's chest warmed.
He stood quietly, padding across the room on bare feet until he could wrap his arms around Gabriel from behind.
Gabriel didn't startle. Just leaned back into him slightly. "Morning."
"Morning," Ethan murmured against his shoulder. "You're cooking."
"I woke up first. Seemed fair."
"I want to cook for you ."
"You cooked dinner." Gabriel flipped whatever was in the pan—eggs, Ethan realized, and toast on a plate beside the stove. "Besides, you looked too peaceful to wake."
