"what on earth," fundy mumbled, stopping still in the center of the doorway of the kitchen. upon first glance he noticed his husband sitting on the counter covered in flour and— why was there uncooked pasta in his hair?

dream smiled tiredly and wiped off a part of the counter next to him and patted it, beckoning fundy to come sit with him.

fundy snorted as the objects that fell to the floor made little difference to the mess that caked the room. "did someone have a little trouble with making dinner tonight? say the word and I can take over," he said, pulling himself off the counter.

"I swear I'm a good cook," dream whined. "I'm just not used to the other ingredients."

"you mean the ingredients that make it taste good?" fundy questioned. "baby steps. what tastes good to you?"

dream pondered for a moment before smirking. he leaned over and kissed his husband on the lips. "yeah, that," he confirmed.

fundy rolled his eyes and flicked a piece of pasta out of the other's blond hair. "unfortunately that's not on the menu tonight," he whispered and hopped off the counter to clean up at least a portion of the mess.

dream pouted in response. and reached out to him with grabby hands. "please don't touch anything. it's my turn to make dinner."

"okay," fundy said unsure. "but remember that you're not in a manhunt and that you don't need to cook to only sustain your hunger. we eat food that actually tastes like something other than paper," he spoke slowly to get the point through to dream, who was staring off at the oven.

the masked man looked over to his husband and laughed nervously. "It's not that hard to mess up bread is it?" he asked.

"I pray not. how about you make the bread and I tidy up the mess while also finding something to salvage from this, okay?" he laughed. "and do you need a reminder of what it's supposed to taste like?" fundy asked.

dream nodded with a smile. leaning in to kiss fundy again. "I doubt I'm that good at making bread."