His stomach twists.
A chrome arm slips around his waist. He shifts his focus up to find Kane watching him, brows furrowed.
“What’s wrong?”
Warmth moves through Rafael. Even when focused on baking, Kane sees him.
“Nothing, really.” He leans against Kane, savoring the rare chance to feel him without armor or a jacket. The man wears only a sweater now, visor pushed up on his head. “It’s just…I wish we didn’t have to use anything from Terra’s at all. Sorry…”
This earns him a snort. “Don’t be sorry,” Kane remarks. “I wanted to bake something for you. I don’t mind using some Terra’s.”
Rafael can’t help but smile. “Still, you went through all this trouble…”
“It’s—” The kitchen console beeps behind them. Kane turns around and swipes over the controls. As the machine moves the batter into a pan, he meets Rafael’s gaze again. “It’s no trouble. Okay? And if I didn’t have everything I needed, that’s on me, not you.”
Once again, the man always shoulders all his concerns. “Okay,” Rafael agrees.
Kane’s hip settles against the counter. “But I have to admit. I prefer my setup back at home,” he chuckles. “No offense. But nothing beats those old 2100s consoles. Terra’s had to actually care about quality then.”
Old 2100s kitchen consoles? Like the one in his quarters at Shreveport?
Does Kane mean—
“Wait…” Rafael blinks at him. “Was that apartment I was staying in—was that yours?”
Kane nods.
“Really? That’s—why? I mean…why did you let me stay there?”
Silvered fingers brush through his curls. “I was more concerned about your safety than I was about you snooping through my stuff,” Kane explains.
His heart skips a beat. Even back then, Kane was looking out for him. “Wasn’t I putting you out, though? You couldn’t make anything at home.”
A bitter laugh escapes Kane. “Like I said before—haven’t baked, let alone cooked, in years.” He steps closer, a smirk curving his mouth. “Until now.”
Heat creeps up Rafael’s neck. “W…why now?”
“You know why…” Kane whispers, fingers brushing the side of his face.
Rafael goes completely still. No one’s ever cooked for him before—only reheated pre-fab meals, and those were on rare occasions. Words tangle in his throat, but he somehow manages, “Thank you.”
Kane’s smile widens. Rafael shuts his eyes on instinct as his heart hammers.
The console’s beep shatters the moment.
With a sigh, Kane spins away. He pulls open the oven door, and a billow of heat and the scent of blueberries rolls over him. Rafael inhales deeply, trying to memorize the smell as Kane takes out the tray, perfectly cooled by the console’s vents.
“They look amazing!” He reaches for one from the counter when Kane twists to face him.
“Here.” Kane holds out a steaming muffin. “Take a bite. Tell me if I’ve still got it.”
He extends a hand, but the treat is pulled out of reach. “You don’t taste with your hands,” Kane tuts.
A flush rises to Rafael’s cheeks. He leans in and parts hislips. Kane puts the muffin between them with a smirk.
The flavor bursts across his tongue. Perfectly sweet and tart with only the faintest hint of Terra’s tang. Better than anything Rafael could ever make. Probably better than anything he’s ever had.
When he gets enough air to swallow, Rafael gives a thumbs-up and says, “You definitely haven’t lost your touch.”