While reassembling his features into something vaguely normal, Mitch took the bowl of hummus between his hands and held it up towards Toby. “Try this? I made it.”

“Uh, sure?” Toby raised an eyebrow, then reached behind Mitch and grabbed a carrot stick.

“It’s really good,” Avi chimed in, and Toby’s mask of polite indifference raised at a breakneck pace.

“Hi Avi,” Toby evenly greeted before he took a bite. “It is good,” he conceded with a nod; having to agree with someone that annoyed him must have taken months off of his life, and the dismay was palpable. Then, without warning, he moved in for a kiss. But Mitch caught on in the knick of time and turned his head so that Toby landed on the cheek. Under his breath, he uttered a flat “Oh?”

Mitch shot a glare at him and mouthed “not here”. They’d gone over ground rules beforehand, Toby knew better than to act this way under Jodie’s roof. Needless to say, it was going to be a long afternoon.

Regrouping, Mitch turned to ask Avi if he could bring the vegetable platter into the livingroom, but found himself staring at a blank space that seconds ago was occupied by his friend. He looked around the kitchen, but Avi was gone. “Ah.” Mitch’s mouth formed a line, and he deflated a little.

“Was he your assistant? I can step in,” Toby offered, jostling a paper bag that he carried under his arm. “Brought some of the stuff that you asked for.”

“Thank you,” Mitch flashed a soft smile, grateful while also ridden with guilt. Of course Toby was the one to rise to the occasion, making Mitch even more of a selfish dickhead given his motives and the circumstances that surrounded them. As he looked through the bag’s contents -an assortment of root vegetables, some squash, and half of a head of cauliflower- his attention fluctuated between the vegetables and Toby. “Hey, there’s a lot going on and I need a little bit of solitude while I get started on this. Can I ask you to go check in with Jodie, if she isn’t busy? Just thank her for hosting, I think she’d appreciate it. I would.”

Toby’s expression dropped for a split second, but he somewhat collected himself. “Alright. I can do that,” he nodded, uncertainty heavy on his furrowed brow.

It was as though a weight was lifted once Toby wandered away and Mitch stood alone in the kitchen at last. He flipped between recipe options and settled on a handful, then in a mechanical fashion he started to work all over again. Peeling and chopping, rinsing and seasoning, roasting and broiling, fatigue clouded his thoughts and sunk into his bones.

While water boiled in a pot, he stared at the steam that curled upwards and zoned out. Thoughts drifted back to Basil, who was subjected to unfathomable mistreatment when he should be among loved ones. It amplified the continued helplessness which plagued Mitch, and an indignant fury seized him by the throat.

And all that he could do was feel sorry for himself. Asshole.

“Are you OK?” Toby’s voice cut through Mitch’s thoughts and yanked him out of his spiral. He wiped his eyes with the back of his arm and kept his face hidden, gesturing to the remnants of an onion that he chopped to indicate why he teared up, if there were lingering questions.

“I think I’m about done here,” he announced without any fanfare. After setting a timer for the final side dishes, he fumbled with the apron strings and eventually accepted Toby’s assistance with undoing them.

“You’re hot in this little getup,” Toby commented while he folded up the apron then set it aside. “Black on black might be your look.”

“I know, right?” Mitch acknowledged. While no one was around, he allowed the briefest amount of groping before reminding Toby about their agreement. Toby initially responded by pouting, and then compliance by releasing the firm grasp that he had on Mitch’s ass.

“I’m tracing every inch of you with my tongue tonight,” was Toby’s parting statement as a heated whisper in Mitch’s ear. Mitch shuddered, then lightly elbowed him in the ribs with a smirk.

“Let’s see if you can behave first,” he snorted.