Unconditional Love

91. Where Love Feels Like Home

It was nearing dinner when Virat finally stirred awake.

He padded out into the hallway, rubbing his eyes, the familiar scent of pasta drawing him toward the kitchen.

There, under the soft glow of the lights, Rohit stood at the stove, humming softly as he stirred the sauce.

Virat smiled, his steps slow and quiet as he walked up behind him.

Without a word, he slid his arms around Rohit's waist, resting his chin on his shoulder.

Rohit stilled for a moment, then smiled to himself, his hands lowering the heat on the stove as he placed his own over Virat's.

"You slept well?" Rohit asked softly, his thumb brushing slow circles over Virat's fingers.

Virat nodded, eyes closed as he breathed in the comfort of being close. "Yeah," he murmured, voice husky from sleep. "Where's everyone?"

Rohit glanced at him over his shoulder. "They went home. They needed rest."

He turned off the stove completely and then shifted, turning in Virat's arms until they were facing each other.

Without hesitation, he pulled him in, wrapping his arms around Virat's neck in a warm, tight hug.

Virat buried his face in Rohit's shoulder, breathing him in.

"You want to sleep more?" Rohit asked, running his fingers through the back of Virat's hair in slow, soothing strokes.

"Only if you're in my arms baby," Virat mumbled, voice muffled against his neck.

Rohit chuckled, the sound low and soft in the quiet kitchen.

"Freshen up," he murmured against his ear. "We'll eat dinner... then you can have me in your arms as long as you want."

Virat tilted his head back just enough to meet Rohit's eyes, a sleepy but grateful smile curving his lips. "Deal."

Rohit kissed his forehead, lingering there for a moment before nudging him gently toward the bathroom. "Go on."

And as Virat walked away, Rohit turned back to the stove, his heart warm.

They sat together at the dining table, sharing a quiet, cozy dinner.

Virat had perked up considerably, his energy returning after resting and now enjoying his favorite pasta.

He sighed contentedly, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he looked over at Rohit with a smile. "You seriously make it better every time, you know that?" he said, nudging Rohit's knee under the table.

Rohit chuckled, squeezing Virat's hand across the table. "You say that every time I cook for you."

"Because it's true every time," Virat grinned, lacing their fingers together. "Thank you for this, baby."

Rohit shook his head with a fond look. "You don't have to thank me for feeding you," he teased. "But you're welcome."

Once they finished, they got up and moved to the kitchen, cleaning up side by side.

Virat rolled up his sleeves, stealing glances at Rohit while drying dishes.

Every now and then, he bumped Rohit with his hip or poked his cheek, chuckling when Rohit gave him an unimpressed look—though he didn't really mind.

"You know," Virat started, leaning in as Rohit rinsed a plate, "this domestic thing we've got going on? It's kinda hot."

Rohit arched a brow but smirked, shaking his head. "You're impossible."