Page 180 of Knot That Serious

“Nice timing,” Eli said as she placed a second plate at the breakfast bar.

“Is that…” Raj said, pausing at the chairs to pull the left one out.

“French toast, yes. You do like breakfast for dinner, right? I feel like we talked about that,” Eli mused, and sat forks out.

“I do, yes. This looks wonderful,” he said. “Thank you for cooking.”

“Aw, it was nothing,” Eli said, cheeks pinkening from the praise.

“Do you need help with—“

“No, no. Sit,” she said, waving a hand at him.

Raj pulled the chair to the right out and slid into it, waiting for Eli before he touched the silverware. Instead, he studied the perfect crisp on the fried bread, the sprinkled cinnamon and sugar, and the melting pat of butter on top. Eli finally sat the syrup on the table and then joined him.

It wasn’t lost on him that French toast had been the beginning to this whole journey of theirs. The only difference was that now Raj was actually eating beside her.

“Are Beckett and Jack driving you crazy?”

Eli hummed through her bite of French toast. “Not really. They’re good at reading my moods. The bond probably helps,” she added. “So Jack’s technically cheating.”

“Only if you look at it that way,” Raj said, chuckling as he cut the fork through the toast.

“Oh, that’s exactly how I’m looking at it,” she drawled. “How was work?”

“Nothing new, really, except we’re short-handed. Jim’s partner finally gave birth, so he’s gonna be gone on paternity leave for a while.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Eli said, grinning. “This is the same Jim that knocked himself out with that two-by-four?”

Raj chuckled. “The very same.” That had been a fun report to write.

“Good luck to that beta,” Eli teased, and Raj snickered at her humor.

Raj went through his three slices of fried bread at about the same pace Eli did, though hers…

“Enjoying your soup?” he asked, biting back a laugh at the way she froze with the syrup container hovered above her plate.

“Listen…” Eli said, shutting it with a clack of the plastic cap and sighing. “This is clearly not soup, because the toast is too big. Now, if I did this…” She began cutting up her toast into bite-sized pieces to float in the syrup.

Raj was outright laughing by the time she got done.

“I’d maybe consider that almost soup,” she finally said, stabbing a square and bringing it to her lips.

“You’re gonna be covered in syrup,” he teased, watching a golden string snap over her chin.

“Guess you’ll just have to clean me up,” she remarked, and sent him a wink.

Raj… totally. Fucking. Loved this omega. He could hardly stand the way it swelled in his chest and expanded against his ribs. There just wasn’t enough room in him to contain it all.

But somehow, he managed, and they finished their dinner, and then Raj stole her empty plate before she could argue.

“Fine, fine. I guess it’s fair,” she said, though she didn’t sound happy about it.

Raj stuck his tongue out at her as he gathered everything at the sink and began washing up.

“Can I borrow one of your sweaters? I’m chilly,” she asked about halfway through.

“Of course, yeah. There’s one in my closet,” he said, and waved a hand in that direction, preoccupied with dishes.

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