#gibtic

He stepped around the kitchen counter, making his way towards the large armchair where Alexander was sat. 

"If you're not feeling well, then you're not feeling well," he said softly, patting the scientist's arm in a comforting fashion. "No shame in that." 

"I am not ashamed of my poor health," Caustic said, closing over his book so he could focus his attention on his companion. "I just see it to be frivolous that you would waste your time nursing me. Most common illnesses pass with time." 

Makoa shook his head, with a small laugh. 

"That don't mean you have to suffer the whole time. You know me, love. I don't budge, so you best get used to it." 

Caustic removed his reading glasses and set them, along with his book, on the side table, with a sigh. 

"As you wish." 

"Might I assist you with anything?" 

Gibraltar looked over his shoulder, to see the chemist hovering near the stove, despite having told him multiple times that he was free to relax on the couch, while he prepared their meal. 

"I've got everything under control, I think." 

Alexander nodded with a small grunt. 

"If you are to insist on looking after me, then I may insist on offering my assistance." 

"You're a stubborn old man," Makoa laughed, shaking his head again, allowing a stray strand of hair to come loose and fall into his eyes. 

His laugh was infectious and Alexander found himself chuckling quietly, until he had to purse his lips together and turn his face away, attempting to stifle another cough. 

"You can keep an eye on the pot if you like," Makoa offered, removing the lid to show off what he had been cooking this whole time. 

Caustic peered over his shoulder, as the delicious scent rose from the pot, making his mouth water. It appeared to be a very hearty looking soup. He took a large spoon in his grasp and began stirring in slow circles, admiring the vibrant ingredients and the smell that only seemed to get better as time passed. Makoa reappeared a short while later, cradling a collection of freshly chopped herbs in his hands, and added them to the pot. He offered the scientist a bright smile, before placing his hand over his on the spoon, quickening the pace. 

"Gotta give this a good, old stir. Make sure all these flavours are perfectly married together." 

Alex indulged him for a while, before stepping away and allowing his partner to take over the rest of the cooking. He lingered in his space, unable to stop his eyes from drifting onto the loose strand of hair, still hanging over the taller man's forehead. 

“It appears you have something out of place,” he said, carefully brushing the rogue hair back to join its counterparts and securing it with the clip it had originally escaped from. “Allow me.”

The highpoints of Makoa’s cheeks flushed at the gesture. 

“Thank you, Alex.”

“It was...my pleasure.”

It was later than evening, when they made their way to the couch with their bowls of soup in hand. Makoa draped a large blanket over both of their laps, as they tucked into their meals, in a comfortable silence. The chemist could feel himself feeling better already, as the flavoursome soup offered its warmth to his body. 

“You have a great talent in the kitchen,” Alexander eventually spoke up, upon finishing his bowl. “I do not believe I have had a superior soup to this.”  

Makoa found himself chuckling quietly at the remark, setting his now empty bowl onto his knees.

“See, I told ya I’d fix you right up!”

“Indeed,” Nox spoke, with a small nod of his head. “I do wish to apologise if I was unpleasant earlier. I am still growing accustomed to all of this.”

“I didn’t take no offense,” Makoa replied, with a shrug, nudging him playfully. “I know you’re a big softy, in your own way.” 

“Regardless, I do...appreciate your assistance today and your...companionship.” 

“Well, you ain’t so bad yourself, Al. I feel the same way,” his partner replied, turning slightly to face him, allowing them to share a soft smile. “Now, how about seconds?”

Alexander stood, and collected their bowls, before returning to the kitchen.