Michael was pacing about the apartment trying to decide whether everything was ready. By the Christmas tree were two neat stacks of presents ready to be summoned away, one with presents for Iden's family and one with presents for Michael's family. On the hob were several dishes keeping warm until brunch at Iden's mum's house. In the refrigerator were several more dishes keeping cool until dinner at Michael's parents' house.
"Iden, are you ready to go?" Michael called from the kitchen.
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Iden blushed redder than he had in some time. "You mean besides the intelligence, kindness, sense of humor, and drive? Well, I guess it would be his eyes," Iden said a bit nervously. "But I suppose you knew all that about him, what with the raising him and all. Here, let me help," he continued, grabbing some plates from the table.
Quietly, he spoke to Michael as they cleared, "This is going a damn sight better than my mum's, but if they're going to keep asking about tattoos and you keep squirming, Steven's going to burst out that you must have ink too. Not that I think your dad would actually mind once he saw that it was useful. You know, I like him."
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