A boy named Sous

"It's what they have in common." Which, wow, was that ever sad. "And maybe a little less depressing than talking about what's been going on lately." He kind of really hoped that wasn't just him. He popped open the cans and mixed up the tuna salad right quick, then spooned it onto the bread. The movements were so practiced that even though it'd been years, he barely had to think about what he was doing. It was like a dance, the two of them moving around so neatly. This was what a good kitchen should be.

Holy crap, he'd missed this.

"Alrighty. Now we just let 'em toast for three minutes, get the cheese nice and melty, and we've got ourselves dinner."