Chapter 4 The one with the homemade meal #2
Apparently, he loved living on the edge.
But after the talk he and Jared had shared the day before, he wanted to make something nice for him.
And here he was now, cursing himself while cooking chicken Alfredo at five fucking forty in the morning.
Because he was nice like that, no matter how broody his mother said he was, or his exes. They knew nothing.
He better like it, or I’m killing him to death.
Dylan knew Jared could take care of himself just fine. He was stronger than he looked, independent, and smart. Didn’t need anyone to save him. Yet it was obvious that the breakup and surviving on meal deal sandwiches, was taking a toll on him. He wanted to do something to ease his distress.
The scent of garlic and onions filled the air as he tossed them into a pan. Dylan grilled and seasoned the chicken breasts, swamping the room with the aroma of simmering spices.
Sunrise, sunset, or midnight, the way his entire apartment smelled could have awakened even the dead—so good.
His brain swayed in the memories of how that creamy Alfredo felt on his tongue, and his mouth watered.
And there, in the middle of his kitchen, wearing nothing but his boxers and a permanent, tired scowl, he couldn’t help but smile, imagining Jared’s dumbass face when he surprised him with a homemade meal.
Resting his ass against the counter as he scrolled on his phone, checking the news but not really reading, Dylan saw the first rays of sun peeking above the horizon.
His place wasn’t the biggest—not like he needed more—but it certainly had some privileged views, with nothing but a beautiful park on the other side of the glass. So peaceful.
As it all came together, Dylan turned off the stove and went into the bathroom. After shaving his beard, which was getting out of hand, he took a quick shower. Once he was dressed and smelling like his favourite cologne, he carefully boxed up the lunch for both Jared and himself and left.
Hunched over his computer, Dylan barely had time to think about anything or anyone. Thank fuck breathing was automatic. Though he would be lying if he said he hadn’t spared a glance or two in Jared’s direction.
The asshole still looked like trash. Sleeping on a shabby mattress with a spring poking out in the middle couldn’t be comfortable. But somehow, he seemed more relaxed. As if talking about his misfortune the day before had lifted a burden off his shoulders.
Dylan’s heart fluttered.
Like every other day at the office, the room filled with chit-chat and laughter when lunchtime came.
Upon entering the bustling canteen, Dylan, Cora, Penny, and Jared made their way straight to one of the few tables left with empty seats. They didn’t even sit down, just dropped their belongings to save the spot and went straight to the microwave area.
It was then that Jared’s path veered, and he started walking towards the sandwich bar.
“Yo, mate, where are you going?” Dylan called a bit too loud while getting the lunchboxes out of his bag.
“To grab something to eat?” Jared’s snarky ass retorted.
“I got you covered.” Dylan smirked victoriously as he showed him the lunch he had prepared.
“What’s that?” Jared approached, confusion written all over his face, but also a hint of excitement.
“I couldn’t stand watching you eat those lame sandwiches for another day,” Dylan said as he put each Tupperware in a separate microwave. “You’re a step away from haunting halls.”
“What?”
“Like a ghost. You’re getting paler and thinner by the day. You’re gonna end up being translucent.”
Jared snorted, and they both laughed out loud, not even caring when a few heads turned in their direction, including Cora and Penny.
He didn’t miss the look on the 3D designer’s face.
It was full of cheeky mischief. And while Dylan didn’t want to read into anything beyond what he saw, led by his own latent desires, he knew Cora noticed something was simmering between the two of them.
Dylan cleared his throat and focused on his friend again. “But no, seriously, it’s nothing. Just made some extra.”
Jared’s face shifted from exhaustion to gratitude, lighting up in a way Dylan hadn’t seen in days. “You really cooked for me…” he mumbled, almost in disbelief.
Jesus. He really looks like a lost puppy sometimes. I want to squeeze the shit out of him until he can’t breathe.
“Yup. No biggie.”
“Thank you, mate. You have no idea how much everything you’re doing means to me.”
“What was that thing you said? That’s what friends are for?” Dylan gently punched him on the shoulder just as the microwaves beeped.
They moved back to their spot at the table, sitting across from each other beside the window. Sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow over them. Even with exhaustion skirting his features, Jared looked beautiful.
“Hmm…” Jared closed his eyes, expression morphed into an expression of pure delight. “This is so good.”
“You having an orgasm, Jared?” Cora quipped.
“A gastronomic one,” he replied, filling his mouth again. “This is sinful.”
“It can’t be that good. Let me try it.”
“No way.” Jared grabbed the lunch box and put it up in the air. “He made it for me. Get your own chef.”
“He’s the best out of us with this stuff. Just let me try it. It’s my favourite.” She pouted, feigning innocence and hurt.
“Only because I’m weak and can’t say no to those big doe eyes of yours.”
Cora smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you!”
“Can I try it too?” Penny, who had been watching the entire scene unfold in silence, asked.
“Just a bite,” Jared whined.
Dylan chuckled, feeling completely satisfied. It was just a small, silly gesture, but he knew Jared would appreciate it.
Seeing him so relaxed for the first time in days flooded Dylan’s chest with warmth and his stomach with jittery sensations he’d never experienced before.
Now, getting up so damn early didn’t pain his sleepyhead ass so much.
Hell, he’d wake up at four every morning just to make Jared smile like this again.
Would even gladly tamper down his urges of fucking the heartbreak out of him if that helped Jared go back to his normal self.
“Thank you,” he mouthed, eyes glowing with so many raw emotions Dylan didn’t know what to do with them.
“Anytime.”