His head felt like shit. Raiden groaned as his eyes fluttered open, a hand pressed to his forehead. It did very little to help and he had to close his eyes again. It was too bright. Almost immediately, he buried his head back into his pillow. Maybe putting pressure on it would make it hurt less.

He stayed like that for a few seconds before his eyes shot open. How the hell had he gotten home? His mind was fuzzy and he couldn’t remember a thing about last night. He was in his house. He was in his room. That was clear after a quick glance. But how had he gotten back there?

The last thing he remembered was being at bar and taking a shot. His face scrunched up. Had someone come looking for him? He could vaguely recall feeling relieved to hear a voice, but he couldn’t remember who it had been. Who…

Suddenly, the smell of freshly cooked food wafted in through the crack under his bed. His stomach growled. Was Carol here? A quick glance to his clock showed it was a little earlier than his housekeeper usually came in bring him food. He’d been perfectly fine with trying to manage on his own, but his parents insisted.

Groggily, he changed into a fresh pair of clothes, hand ruffling his hair. Where had he put that pain medication? He swore he’d put it on his bedside. But it wasn’t there. Raiden frowned to find he’d misplaced.

Pulling his shirt down, he carefully opened his door, “Carol, when did you-”

The words froze on his tongue, eyes widening at the sight he was greeted with. Raiden knew he must have looked like a fool with his mouth agape, staring into his kitchen with wide-eyed shock. But, who wouldn’t be surprised?

Kiran Knightwood was in his kitchen. He was in his kitchen cooking something that smelled absolutely heavenly. He couldn’t believe it. How…When had he gotten here? He was about to ask just that, when all of a sudden the memories came back to him.

Flashes of the previous refreshing his memory all at once. Kiran coming up to him in the bar. The conversation with his friends. Kiran driving him home and practically carrying up to his room. Raiden telling him not to go. A flash of mortification goes through him at the last memory.

He’d practically begged him not to go. Gods. He’d never live it down. Actually, he didn’t know if he could ever live any of what he’d done last night down. Raiden had to resist the urge to walk back into his room and never come out. What would the man be thinking about him now?

“Oh you’re awake,” Kiran cut off his thoughts, “good. Come on over and help yourself to the pancakes.” Raiden was acutely aware of those green eyes coming up to glance over him.

Turning around, Kiran picked up a cup and poured in something that looked too green for anything Raiden had. After doing so, he put the flask he’d taken out back into the ring it had had apparently come out of. Raiden would have asked about it, but he was too busy simply staring at the man.

As thought kick-started again, he noted that his perfectly groomed brown hair was messier than Raiden had ever seen it. A quick glance to his couch revealed why. Although the throw was neatly folded and hung on the arm, so was Kiran’s jacket. That gave him pause.

Kiran had slept on the couch? His eyebrows furrowed, gaze wandering from the couch to the man in his kitchen and back again. Why would he have done that? There were plenty of other rooms in his house he could have slept in. Raiden had already felt bad about making him stay, but seeing that he’d slept on the couch all night somehow made him feel worse.

It couldn’t have been comfortable. When he’d bought it, it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it also was not designed to be slept on. Raiden grimaced. His mother would give him an earful about the lack of hospitality if she were here.

He was about to apologise for it, when another thought struck him. He had stayed. Kiran had promised he’d stay and instead of leaving after he’d already fallen asleep, he’d kept it and stayed. Raiden didn’t know how to feel about that either. Although he could feel a spark of warmth in his chest.

“Well? Are you going to eat something or not?”

Raiden coughed lightly, but made his way slowly to take a seat at the island counter. His voice seemed to be stuck in his throat and he had to cough multiple times to make it work. Come on. Say something.

“What are you doing here?” Not that. Another flash of embarrassment went through him at the pointless question.

Kiran glanced up at him, amusement dancing in his eyes as he started to clean up the mess. “Well, someone wouldn’t let me go. So here I am.”

“You don’t have to clean all that up.” Raiden said instead of the thank you he probably should have voiced.

A teasing gleam entered his eyes as the man shook his head, “I really doubt you know how to clean.”

“Hey!” The remark shocked a laugh out of him, “I doto0.”

“If you say so,” Kiran replied in a tone that implied he didn’t believe him.

“I do.”

“Sure. Sure.”

Raiden’seyes narrowed on him, but he chose to let it go in favour of filling his stomach. It tasted just as heavenly as it smelled, curse him. As soon as the taste filled his mouth, all his previous annoyance was forgotten. His focus shifting to scarfing down the food. In between bites, he glanced up to see Kiran smiling down at him.

“I made the mess so, of course I’m going to clean it up,” He finally replied toRaiden’sprevious words. “Also,” he put the cup of liquid in front of him, “drink this. It’ll help with the hangover.”

Glancing at the colour of the drink, Raiden gave him a dubious stare. When he continued to stare at him expectantly, he hesitantly took a sip with his eyes scrunched closed. Except the horrible taste he was expecting never came. He slowly opened his eyes in surprise.

Despite the colour of the liquid, it had a chocolate undertone and was surprisingly sweet. Nothing like some of the hangover medicines his brother had shoved down his throat. Even more surprisingly, Kiran was right and it immediately helped with the raging migraine, dulling it to a subtle ache.

“What is in this?” Raiden was in awe of its effects, drinking the rest of it in one swig before looking up at Kiran.

A small smile lifted his lips, “Family secret.” Then he took a seat on the other side of him, setting another plate of pancakes. “And I can’t tell you what it is, so don’t bother asking,” he added in amusement.

What a shame. Raiden gave up on that idea immediately, choosing to focus on his pancakes now that he could enjoy them without having to deal with a migraine. To his surprise he found himself finishing them off in record time and was disappointed to find an empty plate.

“More pancakes?” Kiran asked as he pushed up a tray with more of them. The teasing tone told him he had been seen the pout building onRaiden’sface.

“Thank you.” He finally managed to tell him, as he took more of the pancakes and stared on them. This time at a more leisurely pace. Without the pangs of hunger, he could better savour their taste.

“So,” Kiran drawled in between bites, “Do you often go to bars to get drunk off your ass?”

Normally when Raiden got asked that question, it was with a hint of disapproval. When his friends said it, it was mostly with an air of resignation. And Raiden was about to give a defensive remark, but the look on Kiran’s face stopped him in his tracks. His mouth felt dry.

It wasn’t accusing. Instead he looked like he was teasing him and amused by the idea. And Raiden didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t know how to handle a conversation about his drinking when it didn’t involve the other party telling him how bad it was.

“Not often.”

“So last night was special then?”

Raiden felt a small smile of his own come onto his face at that, even as a pang struck his heart. “Something like that.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few seconds, eating breakfast. And a part of him wanted to keep it that way, but there was another question weighing on his mind. One that continuously made its presence known.

“Why did you drive me home?” Why didn’t you just let me find my own way like everyone else seems to?

At first they’d been worried, but after what he supposed was one too many brush offs, they had stopped being worried and just let him go on his own. It was fine. He was used to it. But if the people he’d known for so long wouldn’t help him find his way home, then why would Kiran?

It had been nice. He conceded that he was grateful to not have to wake up wondering where he was for once. Most of the time he made it home, but Raiden didn’t want to admit to anyone just how many times he’s also found himself leaning against the wall of an unknown house.

He supposed that maybe he should have brought it up, but he didn’t see the point. He’d made it home. And he was fine. A part of him wondered if they’d even care. He didn’t want to find out, so he’d never risked asking. But Kiran owed him nothing, so why would he insist when his friends hadn’t?

“Did you think I would leave you there?” Kiran frowned, staring up at him. “I don’t know about the other people you call friends but I don’t let people who are drunk off their asses find their own way home.”

“They’re not that bad,” Raiden automatically protests, “They used to offer before but, I’m fine to get home on my own.” He couldn’t really refute the “drunk off his ass” part, when parts of the night felt fuzzy.

Kiran stared at him solemnly for a few seconds, before releasing a deep sigh. “I really don’t think that makes it better, but regardless,” he glanced up too meet his eyes, “I am not in the habit of letting my friends do things that stupid.”

" But-”

“No buts,” Kiran cut him off with a withering glare. “I’ll smack you if you try to tell me you’ll be fine to get home on your own in the future.”

Raiden frowned and was about to protest the statement, when the implications caught up with him. In the future? Did that mean…

“What are you trying to imply?” He was a little afraid to presume it meant what he thought that it did.

“Just what I said. I don’t let my friends do stupid things and not ask for help when they so clearly need it.” His lips turned up into a teasing smile, “Why? Do you not think we’re friends?”

“No.” Raiden said almost immediately, “Wait I mean yes.”

“Yes you don’t think of us as friends?”

“No!”

“No we’re not friends?”

“No. Yes,” Raiden threw his hands up in air at seeing Kiran’s grin. He narrowed his eyes on him, “You know what I mean!”

“I do,” his grin grows, “But it was too funny to resist.” IgnoringRaiden’sglare, he shook his head, “So you agree we’re friends?”

“Yes.” He was actually surprised Kiran thought of them as such.

“Good.” Kiran’s eyes bored into him as he leaned back, “Then the next time you feel the need to get that drunk, call me.”

“What?” The worlds took a while to register. He wanted Raiden to call him if he ever went drinking? Was he hearing that correctly?

“I said, call me if you’re going to go off getting that drunk for whatever reason, dumbass.”

“Hey!” Raiden laughed. He would have been more offended but the look Kiran was giving him made it clear the insult was without malice.

“I’m still waiting for a promise.” Kiran told him, completely ignoring his protest.

Another laugh left him at that, his heart feeling surprisingly light. “Alright. Alright. I promise.”

“Good.” Kiran lifted his cup up for a toast, although the only thing in them was juice. “Here’s to the start of wonderful new friendship.” The words were said in almost sarcastic manner, but he could still feel their sincerity.

When he went back to his meal, this time he didn’t feel any of the embarrassment that had been following him since he’d woken up to see Kiran in his kitchen. It was a little strange. He couldn’t remember there being very many people in his life who would call him adumbassto his face. Not many outside his family if he were being honest.

Even Will and the others wouldn’t do it so blatantly. They were more casual around him now, but they were nowhere near as blunt as Kiran was. Raiden supposed that was part of why he liked him so much. He didn’t have to worry when it was Kiran.

If he didn’t like something, Raiden had an feeling he would simply tell him. After having people walk on eggshells around him after they’d found out who he was, it was a welcome change. He couldn’t help smile around his fork as he thought about it.

“Just to be clear,” Kiran’s voice interrupted, “This in no way means that I’m joining your cult. Or even that I would want to do anything of the sort.”

Raiden couldn’t stop the laughter that left him at that, his face straining from the grin that had overtaken it. He almost choked on his food with the speed at which it had bubbled up. His utensils fell onto the plate as he looked up to see Kiran’s amused but serious expression.

After he’d caught his breath, he shook his head. He hadn’t thought that it had. Truth be told, in the events that had occurred in the past few hours, he’d almost forgotten that he’d wanted to convince him to be a part of said group. A part of him was surprised that he didn’t feel offended by Kiran calling it a cult. Yet…

“It’s not a cult,” Raiden told him, his grin still not fading. “And if you do not want to join it just yet, I suppose I’ll just have to keep working on convincing you.” The annoyed look that got him only made him laugh again.

The despair that been driving him to drink did not once make an appearance. Even if it was just convincing the man to help him change the world, Raiden felt like he had a purpose. And for now, that was enough.