“Will you get me a Red Bull?” Luka didn’t answer Reno’s question, feeling too embarrassed to admit he’d been studying a new language to impress a man.
“Of course," Reno said, “It makes me so happy you asked me for something without prompt. How is Chinese takeout? I can get you lo mein; I know somewhere authentic.”
“Sounds perfect.” Luka ran a hand through his hair and winced. He’d fallen asleep with it wet and it was a disaster. “How soon will you be here?”
“Give me forty-five minute to get the food and make my way there.”
Luka hummed an affirmation and pulled himself out of bed. “Okay, um, arigato gozaimasu?6.”
“You kill me, my heart stops dead,” Reno said, and Luka could clearly picture the way Reno probably had his hand over his chest. “See you soon.”
Reno hung up and Luka let his phone fall onto the bed before he began his search for a less-wrinkled shirt and comfortable pants. After fixing his hair, he pulled on an oversized sweatshirt and socks, too, grateful for August’s research on how cold it would be. It was at least ten degrees warmer in Missouri than in London, and the flat was drafty.
Sooner than expected, there was a knock at the door.
Luka opened it to a wind-swept Reno, a mask over his face and his hair everywhere, holding bags of food in one hand and a wine bottle in the other.
He came inside asking, “Is the kitchen stocked? I forgot to check earlier when I made my rounds.”
“Oh, I haven’t either.” Luka closed the door, watching as Reno dumped bags on the counter and started opening cabinets.
Reno made a celebratory cheer when he found the dishes and immediately set to work portioning out food for them both. Luka watched from the dining table, fascinated, as Reno busied himself around the kitchen like this was his own home. It wasn’t until he placed food, water, and a glass of white wine in front of Luka that Reno realized he was being watched at all.
“Gomen?7, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Reno finally remembered to take off the face mask, then he rushed back into the kitchen to put the remaining food in the fridge. “I’m so hungry, um. I hope you are too.”
Luka eyed the food set up in front of him with a raised brow and said, “Thankfully, yes.”
Reno slumped with relief and dropped into the chair opposite Luka, stretching his legs out, pressing them against Luka’s. “I get like this after long days, I forget to eat and it’s usually on the bus home I realize and feel like I am starving. My stomach eats itself. I should really pack myself food on studio days but I keep forgetting.”
“I do the same thing when I’m drawing.”
“You shouldn’t do that,” Reno scolded, hypocritically, making Luka laugh. Reno snapped his chopsticks apart and dug in, encouraging Luka to do the same, and Luka wondered if there was a list Reno kept somewhere of all of Luka’s favorite things. He’d, without asking, brought Luka one of his comfort dishes, the kind of wine he liked, and when Reno was putting things away, Luka had spotted the exact flavor of Red Bull he liked. It made something in him squirm pleasantly, to be noticed like that, to be considered like that. He’d always put forth a lot of effort to remember those kinds of things with his past partners, but it was the first time someone had done that for him.
Reno took their empty dishes to the sink and washed them, then sank on the couch next to Luka and started digging through his pockets. He pulled out two small wrapped candies and handed one to Luka.
“Here, my favorite chocolate.” Reno took Luka’s drink and put it on the coffee table, then reached back into his pocket and pulled some more pieces of chocolate out to dump next to it.
“Do you just carry chocolate in your pockets?”
“Yes.” Reno tore one open and turned to Luka. “Open.”
Luka let Reno put one on his tongue and hummed, “So it’s true.”
“What is?”
“One, English chocolate is better than American.” Luka swallowed, the taste lingering over his tongue, richer and slightly less sweet than he was used to. “Two, you’re the most adorable person in the world. What do you mean you carry chocolate in your pockets?”
Reno blushed a little around the ears. “I’ve always been like this; my mom used to scold me so bad. Now Kandi does. The women in my life have it so hard.”
“Anyone who willingly decides to take care of you must have it hard; you seem ungovernable.”
“I am.” Reno beamed at him before eating another piece of chocolate. “Everyone should be happy I’m such a good boy who aims to please.”
“O-oh," Luka stammered, “At least there’s that.” He leaned forward and got his drink from the table to take a sip, enjoying how it complemented the chocolate. Reno was quiet, watching him, and he started to feel a bit unsure. “What is it?” he asked as he set his glass down, looking back at Reno and trying to read his expression.
“I am thinking,” Reno said with a small smile, “last time I saw you.”
“A few hours ago?” Luka smirked, leaning back against the armrest of the couch.
