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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.

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"Well then, I guess we can say I'm extremely comfortable with your touch by contrast." Anton summarised as calmly as ever. He even added a smile at the end.

Xander on the other hand stared at the hand he used to stroke Anton's hair and forehead as though it were an offending object, and not his own hand. He looked like he was tossing and turning thoughts in his head. Having a revelation but discarding it as quickly as though he didn't believe that was it.

Anton also noticed the changes in Xander's expression but he didn't comment on it. He stood up from his chair, heading to the door. "I'll tell Sarah to make enough dinner for you too."

"No." Xander's words stopped Anton where he was. He turned back to look at Xander. His brows were knit lightly in confusion.

"You're not eating dinner?" Anton asked, still confused.

"No. I'm not eating dinner, if she makes it." Xander corrected, placing emphasis on the 'if'.

"So I can call someone else to make it then? Alright then, I'll-" Anton smiled, obviously enjoying pretending like he didn't know what Xander was getting at and enjoying teasing Xander.

"No." Xander interrupted. He could obviously guess what Anton was baiting him to do, but he didn't care. He did it either way, with not even an ounce of shame or embarrassment at being exposed. "I'm not eating dinner if you're not the one making it."

"Blatant as always." Anton laughed. "You know I said to make yourself at home. That also means, if you don't want Sarah's cooking, you might as well cook for yourself."

"Yes, but I don't know how to cook and I absolutely do not want to know how. Which is why, asking you to make dinner can be counted as making myself at home, seeing as you can cook and I can't. Right" Xander explained.

"If you say so." Anton smiled fondly and turned to leave. Xander walked out right after him, following closely behind. The awkward atmosphere from earlier having disappeared.

***

They were in the kitchen. Xander leaned against the black island in the centre of the kitchen and watched as Anton spoke with Sarah.

"Alright sir, I'll be leaving then. I would he back tomorrow by 8." Sarah told him. She bowed at him, then turned to Xander, bowing at him too.

She turned around and walked off. Not long after, the sound of Sarah shutting the front door quietly was heard.

"Did you really need to barge into the lounge? I'm pretty sure Sarah informed you I was in a meeting."

"Did you really need to have the meeting in the lounge?"

"There was nowhere else to have it and I like my customers being as comfortable as can be." Anton told him as he brought out ingredient upon ingredient and laid them all on the island.

Xander took out a stool that was ticked into the island from where this marble jutted out and seated himself opposite Anton who was focused on his task of preparing the things he needed to make dinner. "He really didn't need to sit on my seat." Xander murmured, glaring at the table.

Anton had heard his murmur and he burst out into a chuckle, looking up from the vegetables he was inspecting and looking over at Xander.

"So that's why you're still so annoyed." He announced, a gentle smile on his face and nodded to himself as though he just realised something as he brought out a knife and board to chop the vegetables.

Xander rolled his eyes slightly. "It's not like that's the only reason." He murmured again.

"I did want to warn him though, but he sat before I could even sit, talk less of speak." Anton explained.

Xander said nothing. His demeanor too showed nonchalance as though he'd heard nothing as though he'd ignored what Anton said, didn't listen to or care of what he said, or he was unbothered by the situation.

"You can go watch TV for a while, dinner is far from ready. I'll let you know when it is." Anton suggested, not looking up from what he was doing.

"No, thanks. I want to watch you cook. I didn't get to last time." Xander replied, and he really did sit there the whole time. Neither of them spoke. The room was quiet, save the occasional sounds of the knife hitting the chopping board or the oil in the pan sizzling when something was added to it, the sound of something cooking or boiling and so on. It sounded like a kitchen, and of course, the only person responsible for keeping it lively in that moment was Anton. It really was a sight to see. A perfect gentleman hustling and bustling about as he multitasked.

Xander only continued to watch attentively, his eyes never leaving Anton. The more Anton worked, the more frustrated he got with the sleeves of his shirt. His brows furrowing ever so faintly.

Seeing Anton's struggle, Xander's lips quirked up in a slight smirk. He stood up and walked around the island. Anton had heard him stand and warily watched as he walked towards him but Xander only smirked. He stood on Anton's right and carefully rolled up Anton's sleeve so it didn't disturb him as he worked. His fingers had lightly brushed Anton's in the process. Anton shivered a bit.

Xander either didn't notice it didn't pay attention. He walked around Anton to his left and rolled up his left sleeve as well. Rolling them up so carefully. Anton's eyes remained fixated on him till he finished, watching the serene expression on Xander's face and occasionally flitting downwards to see what Xander was doing.

Xander finished and then raised his eyes to meet Anton's, flashing him a proud smirk. Anton smiled gently and shook his head in amusement. "Thank you." He called softly before turning back to the chopping board and continuing his 'task'.