[attr="class","rapha"]Raph wakes early, like he always does on nights where he doesn’t drink. Mint is pressed against his chest, unfurled slightly; he smiles, and extrapolates himself from the smaller man, tucking the blankets back up over him as he grumbles and rolls into the spot Raph once occupied.

He avails himself of Mint’s kitchen, keeping his promise of being good at various chores. He makes a small pot of coffee; he throws some leftover rice, scrambled egg, bacon, cheese, and green onion in a pan, then cleans up after himself, storing the leftovers in a tupperware; he tightens a leaky faucet with a wrench discovered buried at the bottom of a junk drawer; he folds his borrowed sleep clothes and sets them on top of the washing machine.

Mint seems content to sleep until the next year. Raph sneaks quietly back into the bedroom, not wanting to leave without saying goodbye.

“Hey,” he says, suppressing a laugh at sleepy eyes that crack open, "I have t' get goin', but I made somethin' quick in the fridge, you can throw in the microwave. Text me if you wanna hang out later. See you, darlin'."

He bends down to press a kiss gently into Mint’s forehead, makes sure he’s securely tucked back in, and heads out into the bright morning.

[attr="class","raphatag"]mint frost