The kitchen is bathed in warm light as the two of them prepare dinner.

You lean against the doorframe, enjoying the familiar scene.

"Finn, if you chop the onions any bigger, we might as well fry them whole," Sebastian grumbles, amused, as he tastes the sauce. He approaches Finn from behind and casually places a hand on his hip.

Finn chuckles softly, lowers his knife, and leans back against Sebastian's firm chest for a moment. "That's what you call 'rustic,' Basti. You're just a perfectionist." He turns his head slightly so their eyes meet in close proximity. "But that's exactly why I love you."

Sebastian shakes his head with a smile, but his gaze is warm. He gives Finn a quick, firm kiss on the temple before looking over at you. “Did you hear that? He’s trying to pass off his chaos as art again.”

Finn turns completely around in Sebastian’s arms, his arms loosely around his neck. “And you love it,” he replies challengingly, but with a soft undertone.

Then he reaches out a hand to you. “Come here before the perfectionist pulls out the stopwatch. We need backup against his culinary tyranny.”

With a contented sigh, Sebastian pulls you both into a hug.