Hector gaped theatrically at the Christmas decorations that adorned Vin’s apartment. “I smell cookies,” he said.
“Yeah,” Vin said. “Come on in the kitchen, I’m almost done turning out this batch.”
“Didn’t know you could cook, man,” Hector caught Vin by the elbow and drew him in for a quick hug and a leisurely kiss. Vin clenched his fingers a little tighter than strictly necessary around Hector’s arms.
“I am, astonishingly enough, capable of learning some domestic skills,” Vin retorted when Hector finally released him. He didn’t bother to fill in that this was close to his tenth batch, but the first one he hadn’t burned. Vin had given up entirely on the whole “from scratch” idea and ended up buying boxed mixes. Hopefully—this time—he’d get something edible out of the effort.
Hector snor
