The Dare of Truth [slash]

Chapter 5

Fyn and Kalish tiredly returned from their shopping trip a few hours later, loaded with bags. As usual, Kalish hadn't been able to decide on a single thing, which was the main reason for him dragging Fyn along anyway. The journalist had excellent taste when it came to other people's clothes, so it was his job to make the decisions. Kalish had also persuaded him to buy something as well: a nicely-cut three-piece suit in a shade of green that matched Fyn's eyes. It actually didn't make him look like a choir boy like suits usually did, so he had decided to get it.

Kalish let Fyn out of the car in front of his apartment building. "And don't you dare to start a romance with that photographer of yours and not tell me!" Before Fyn could reply, Kalish just grinned and drove off.

Sighing, the journalist went up to his apartment. As soon as he opened the door, a wonderful, spicy smell wafted up his nose. Fyn put down his shopping bags and went into the kitchen to find the source of that delicious scent. There, he was greeted with quite a sight: Eondar bustled around amidst various pans and pots, wearing Fyn's pink kitchen apron. It was a silly thing, all ruffles and bows, a joke-gift from Kalish for one of Fyn's birthdays.

"Welcome back," the photographer greeted him with a slight smile. "You're right on time. Ocathian fruit chicken will be ready in a minute."

"Uh, nice. I'll... set the table." Fyn grabbed some dishes from the cupboard and fled the kitchen. As hilarious as someone like Eondar in a pink apron was... for a split second Fyn had felt like he was in some strange parallel universe where his bond mate waited for him with dinner when he came home. The lifebearer shook his head in confusion. What was he thinking? This was a temporary arrangement, and Eondar was just paying him back a little by cooking. So what?

A few moments later, Eondar emerged from the kitchen. Thankfully, he had taken off the silly apron. "I hope you like it," he said as he put down a bowl of rice and a big pan. It was filled with pieces of chicken, vegetables, fruit, and a sauce that was the source of the amazing smell.

"I love Ocathian food," Fyn answered. "Sadly, there are no restaurants in the city who serve really good Ocathian food. I had a chance to try the buffet when the Ocathian ambassador was in town. The man had the good sense to bring his own cook with him. But this smells even better."

Eondar's smile broadened.

The food was indeed great. The lifebearer ate as much as he could and then even a little bit more until he felt like a stuffed chicken himself. He and his new room-mate cleaned up the kitchen together and then decided to call it a night since both were exhausted for various reasons.

Sometime during the night, Fyn woke up. The chicken had been rather spicy, and he got up to get himself a glass of water. He was about to return to his bedroom when a sound from Eondar's room drew his attention. Fyn hesitated for a moment, but then he gently knocked on the door. "Eondar, are you okay?"

There was another noise, one sounding like someone in pain. Fyn just opened the door and peeked in. "Eondar?"

With a gasp, the sire sat up straight, staring into the twilight of the room. His eyes were wide in the dark, the slit pupils so dilated that they seemed to be round, just like a cat's at night.

"I'm sorry, it sounded like you were having a nightmare again, " Fyn whispered. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Eondar took a few deep breaths and smoothed his mussed hair back from his forehead. "No, it's okay. I'm the one who has to apologize for the noise."

"I was awake anyway." Fyn hovered at the door, unsure what to do. "So... you wanna talk about it? Maybe it'll help."

"I don't know," the sire answered softly. "I won't be getting back to sleep anytime soon. But you should get your rest."