After finishing his breakfast, Alex carried his dishes to the kitchen, walking beside Michael. Once there, he stood back as Michael took over, washing them himself.

“You do know I can handle this, yeah?” Alex said, settling behind the center kitchen cabinet, watching him. “I’m not some spoilt brat who can’t wash his own plate after eating.” His voice held a teasing edge, but Michael only laughed and shook his head.

“I never said you were,” Michael chuckled. “I ...