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Nepenthe (Book 1 in the Mania duology) (BL)

'Drug of Forgetfulness' "And why are you so convinced, Anton? Could it be that you want to be that person yourself?" Everyone wants to just breathe and forget. To forget they exist and forget this world and this life exists. Even for a few minutes. And the only way to do that is to have a distraction. However, with how addictive distractions from life problems can be, can't those distractions be referred to as drugs? This story is about two men, who would never have met if they had a say in it. One who was the very definition of wealth and class from looks to mannerisms and the other, the very definition of rebellion and disaster from talk to walk.

Elated_Creator · LGBT+
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29 Chs

I

"Yeah, I'm ok. I hope my lack of manners didn't put you off from coming to my house again." Anton asked politely.

"Definitely not. I made myself at home." Xander smirked giving the sentence an underlying meaning.

Anton looked uneasy not knowing what he meant, and as though not wanting to know, he turned away from him.

"I'm going to make dinner. Join me if you like or continue your match. Whichever is welcome." He headed straight for the kitchen simply not caring whether Xander was following or not.

Xander smiled subconsciously and sat down again to watch the match.

***

Anton who had already noticed that Xander didn't follow him shook his head with a smile. "He really made himself at home." He whispered.

He opened the drawer and picked out an aspirin container, picking two pills out, he returned it and used the medicine with some water.

He headed to the fridge and picked out all sorts of ingredients, from vegetables to meat. Seeing all the ingredients, he looked like he already made up his mind what he wanted to make.

He wore an apron that was hung on a rack beside the drawer, started washing the ingredients and making dinner.

***

Some time after, Anton who had taken off the apron, walked in carrying a few dishes covered. He placed them on the table and proceeded to bring more out of the kitchen. He brought all of them out and went back for the plates and cutlery. He set the table for Xander and himself, then brought back water glasses and set them as well.

He looked into the living room and saw Xander very engrossed in the match.

"Xander! Dinner is ready." He called peeking into the living room.

"Oh, is it?" Xander's voice drifted into the dining area. Then footsteps followed. Light but loud enough to be heard.

He appeared in the dining area looking at the set dining table. He pulled his seat and sat looking up at Anton as if to say 'Are you going to eat standing?'

Anton sat in his seat as if he wasn't just dallying.

He sat at the head of the table.

Xander helped himself the moment Anton sat. He picked up a couple of dishes filling up his plate until it had no space, only then was he satisfied.

"It looks very good, I'm hoping it's as edible as it looks." He told Anton and then dove right into the food as though he never said anything.

The moment the food entered his mouth, he stopped. His chewing motions stopped and he turned to Anton with a look of shock.

His face was contorted into a 'what on earth?' expression.

Anton who hadn't even out food on his face had worry written all over his face. "Is it bad? Would you rather I order food?"

"Definitely not! Why on earth would you do such? And why on earth have I never eaten food you cooked? For goodness sake, I should have at least just used you for free meals."

Anton's body relaxed a bit and gave Xander a look. "Don't scare me like that. I thought it tasted really bad or that it wasn't to your taste."

"Excuse you? Did you taste the food yourself?" Xander asked Anton seriously.

"Barely. I don't really like tasting what I cook unless I'm already eating."

"No wonder you don't look convinced. Isn't tasting a requirement for cooking though?" Xander asked with a look of doubt.

"It is, but I hate knowing the final taste before eating the food itself. I'll loose my appetite."

"I don't see much of a difference, you haven't even served yourself since we sat." Xander criticized.

"I didn't know if you'd like the food. I was practically sitting on the verge of my seat ready to bolt and order food if you didn't like it."

"Self depreciating, much?" Xander asked rhetorically with an amused glint in his eyes.

"It's not self depreciation, Xander." Anton defended smiling. He carried a few dishes and put some food on his plate. Then gave Xander a look asking 'happy?'.

Xander didn't say anything. He only went back to eating his food with a smirk. He finished his food and stood up. He picked up his plate and took it to the kitchen.

"It's fine, I can take care of the dishes." Anton protested.

"No. You did say to make myself at home." Xander smirked at him at how he was able to use his words against.

Anton shook his head at Xander.

"What? You should have expected me to do whatever it is I wanted after saying something like that. And in that case, I can proudly say that guestroom is now officially my bedroom." Xander announced, placing emphasis on the 'my' and chuckling rather evilly. He turned around and went to the kitchen, ignoring the stupefied Anton.

Anton opened his mouth (probably to object, or to remind him Xander that it was his own house and not Xander's), but he shut it again shortly after, probably remembering his words, 'Make yourself at home.' he might have been regretting it.

Anton finished his food quickly and joined Xander in the kitchen, carrying his plate as well as other dishes on the table. All the dishes had been emptied out.  Xander had eaten the majority and Anton only ate a little, probably due to his appetite.

***

Because the dishes were practically empty, it didn't take too long to clear all the dishes. They worked in silence as though they'd done this a million times.

Once the plates were done, they wiped their hands.

Xander turned to Anton. "I'll go watch a replay of the match, then go to bed. You should go to bed early."

Anton nodded once and smiled. "Goodnight then. Sleep well." He turned and left. Xander watched him leave, then let out a very quiet sigh that if Anton had been hiding behind the wall of the kitchen, he wouldn't have heard.

He leaned his back against the counter and looked up at the ceiling. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment.

All of a sudden, he stood straight, pushed a few hairs that had fallen into his eyes away and left the kitchen as though he hadn't just spaced out.