"That was good," Day hums, as he swallows the last bite.
"I'm glad you liked it," Travis nozzles his nose in Day's neck, which is ticklish, and he tries to wiggle away from where he is seated on his lap.
But the vice grip that Travis has around his waist doesn't let him move an inch.
"I should fire my chef and have you make all my food then."
"I would love to make your food all the time," he says, and Day can't help but roll his eyes, but all the same giggling because of course.
Of course, Travis is going to say yes to every single thing he says and suggests. He fears that the alpha doesn't remember himself sometimes, especially when he makes such grand promises.
But, it still warms his blood, makes him all fuzzy that he is with Travis, like this, all domestic and all soft. He runs his fingers through his hair strands, and the alpha tilts his head back, pliant under his touch.
