Extra luko

Lucas likes cooking breakfast for dinner. It feels like childhood. Like breaking the rules.

And also eggs on toast are pretty much the limit of his cooking abilities.

Not that he's doing much cooking right now; more staring into the middle distance, eyes unfocused, as he recalls the way Taako looked earlier, sitting in his lap like that.

Sleepy, debauched. Messy hair sticking to his face as he slid up and down on Lucas'--

"Oh boy," Taako's sudden presence cuts Lucas' train of thought completely, startling him enough that he drops the paint scraper he's using for his eggs, "good thing I like my scramble well-done, huh?"

Lucas blinks twice before his eyes refocus on the skillet. "Fuck," he hisses, the brown-black patches to the eggs popping and sizzling even when he moves them off the hot plate, "sorry."

He feels Taako shrug behind him, hands resting on Lucas' hips. "Ain't nothin' to be sorry for, bucko. You made me food, I should be thanking you."

Once the eggs are safely dispatched onto a waiting plate, Lucas swivels to face him, drawing him close and pressing their lips together. Taako still tastes like sleep, and his eyes are puffy, and he's ridiculous and gorgeous in every measurable dimension.

"Taako," he starts, without knowing quite what he's going to say, "I--"

A loud /DING/ and a bad smell interrupt him, and they both startle. The toast has it worse, though; peeking out from the grates it appears fully blackened. A small but telling wrinkle appears on Taako's forehead.

"How about I--"
"--yeah I'll wait in the living room."