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This is really embarrassing, but I have seriously sprained my ankle. I can more or less manage, but I can't quite manage carrying things, opening doors, and crutches, yet. I can eat take-out and delivery forever to avoid it, but I need some help with the cat-food and cat litter that got dumped just outside my door.

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Anakin found the use of the rolling chair inventive. He nodded in approval.

"You can take the chocolate milk and cheetos right away while I make lunch."

He takes the snack food he requested carefully and pushes himself back toward the couch. "You are eating too, right?"

"Uh, ya," Anakin said, cheerfully. "Why wouldn't I? I mean, I'm still getting the hang of using two hands I don't really know how to use, but I'm sure it'll still turn out. Where are your pots?"

"I don't know, I don't trust anyone not to get strange about their idea of manners, I guess. Pots are in the cabinet above the stove." He's going to watch but he's mostly just watching becuase he wants to be close and have company.

"Well," Anakin said as he was pulling out a sauce pan and began filling it with water. "I grew up dirt poor, so what I know of manners is: say please, thank you, don't chew with your mouth open, consent for everything, wait your turn where applicable, don't interrupt- though that one is really hard because sometimes I can't help but say the first thing that comes into my head right when I think it. Oh, and public nudity is a big no."

He put the full sauce pan on the stove and started examining the controls, "Am I missing anything really important?"

"I didn't grow up dirt poor and that's about the same set I adhere to." Meaning Anakin's mom was really on top of it but also - Why was he worrying about this so much. It was Anakin?

Drugs maybe?

Probably drugs.

Anakin looked past the strange feelings he was getting from Ben because, last month, when Anakin was the one dealing with, well, body stuff, to put it generally, he'd felt all kinds of emotions that were hard to parse.

"Cool, at least I won't offend about ninty-nine percent of the population," Anakin continued on. "Probably the one percenters, though. I don't know the difference between those big forks verses those smaller forks. Other than being able to tell you their physical differences. But why have different forks? I guess if you have more money than everyone you have to come up with ways to spend it. Why not on a bunch of different forks?"

"Probably to show off that they can and that they're not doing their own dishes. Can you imagine all those forks and spoons and different plates? One meal would create more work than me eating here for myself for two weeks."

He has no idea why this conversation is happening but he's so happy ANakin is there that it just doesn't matter.

Anakin was just saying the first thing that came to mind.

While they waited for the water to boil, Anakin searched for a knife to chop the hotdogs. It didn't take him long to find on, but he paused trying to decide which hand to use. Both needed the practice.

He decided on his right hand and started chopping the hotdogs into bitesized chunks.

"Most of the food I eat is either from restaurants or the microwave. Dishes are hard- were hard to do one-handed."

"You know that just makes me want to make a deal with you, right?" He was pretty sure that wasn't the intent, but damn it could work out and was tempting.

Anakin looked down at the chopped hotdogs. They were not uniform chunks for sure. But they would do.

"What kind of a deal?" he asked with a bit of a laugh.

"You cook, I do dishes."

Look if it was hot and prepared by someone in his house? It was delightful.

"Every night?" Anakin asked, glancing at Ben.

"I'm not much of a cook either. You'll know it when I serve you your food."

"I don't really cook at all, but every night might be a lot. Maybe once a week? We could spend time together then, too." If Anakin wanted.

Did Ben sound shy and tentative? Because he felt both, a lot.

Anakin thought that was still an odd sensation to get from Ben because of all they'd been through together in the short almost year they'd known each other. Anakin had liked him from the start, even if it was just chess in the park at first. And then the memories thing.

"How, uh, fancy are you expecting your food?" Anakin asked. Because what he was making now was about the top of his talents.

"I really don't expect or want fancy food. I don't even care if it's hot." Look, he wants company, he wants his friends and this feeling of asking Anakin for companionship and an agreement that isn't just 'right now'? It feels... scary. Regardless.

With the water boiling, Anakin added the noodles and the hotdog bits.

"If you're okay with nothing fancy," Anakin said. "I'm down for it." Someday Anakin was sure Ben would just understand how much he liked him. Someday.

Now he was searching for a spoon to stir the boiling pot so the noodles didn't stick. That was key to the right consistency.

"But I'll clean up tonight. I won't make you do that right now."

"My chair has wheels," he protests. "I can get where I need to be and do the dishes sitting."

Fair was far, Anakin.

"Hey, I'm here to help you," Anakin said. That's what was fair today.

"I make the food, you eat it, I clean up. That's the deal. And then I have games for us to play."

He'll accept the deal this one time, and also? distracted. "What's the game?"

The noodles done, he turned off the heat and grabbed the strainer to ge rid of the water. That done, he eyeballed the amount of milk and butter to put in, then added the dehydrated cheese. He settled on using his right hand to stir, he did a bit better stirring than he had with the chopping.

"Resident Evil, Borderlands, Overcooked, a few of the Lego games."

"We're playing Lego." Yeah yeah video games, but still fun and less... intense and dark and easier for him to handle medicated.

And he would be medicated, thanks. Just as soon as he got some food to go with it.

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