Youssef Farouk stood in the kitchen, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, glaring at the kettle like it had personally offended him. “It’s not that hard to boil water,” he muttered under his breath.

Across the room, Nathan Ajayi sat on the couch, curled up with a book, watching his grumpy boyfriend with an amused smile. “You know,” he called out gently, “you could just let me make the tea. Like always.”

“I’m perfectly capable,” Youssef huffed, not turning around.

Nathan laughed softly, setting his book down. “Sure you are, love. That’s why I’ve seen you threaten the toaster before.”

Youssef turned, cheeks pink but pride intact. “It burnt the toast, Nathan.”

“And you swore vengeance,” Nathan teased, standing up and walking over, slipping his arms around Youssef’s waist from behind. “You’re lucky I like you grumpy.”

Youssef sighed, letting his head fall back onto Nathan’s shoulder, the tension melting from his frame. “You just like me, full stop.”

“Guilty,” Nathan said with a grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now let me save the tea before you start a war.”

Youssef mumbled something under his breath but didn’t resist as Nathan reached around him for the kettle. Maybe being loved by someone so soft wasn’t so bad—even if he had to put up with the teasing.