"Luke, pleeeeaaase."

He whined once again, his voice becoming louder at the end of his plea.

Luke's response was pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing, looking down from the large tv in front of him.

He turned his head to where his partner was at the kitchen table, laying back in his chair with his arms at his sides, sinking down lower with every pout.

"I'm hungry, Luke, so hungry that I can't even get up."

Luke squinted at the younger male, gritting his teeth and pointing at the fridge less than 3 feet away from Jon.

"You're literally already in the damn kitchen, you can make yourself a sandwich, Jon!"

Jonathan huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking Luke straight in the eyes and replying.

"I don't wanna make myself one. You make better sandwiches than me!"

"It's a sandwich, not a five star meal, do it yourself!"

Jonathan groaned, hugging his stomach in false pain, and put his head down on the table, forehead against the expensive wood.

"Toonz, look what you're doin' t'me. Why're you hurtin' me like this?!"

Luke rolled his eyes once again and flipped him off half heartedly, taking note of  the overused nickname, looking back at the tv and continuing to play the game he had previously been so invested in before Jon's sandwich demand.

He loved that man, but damn, how he complained. He was such a child sometimes and it made Luke wanna punch him in the face.

He always wanted Luke to do shit for him, even when it was a simple task that took the littlest of effort.

How hard was it to make a sandwich?

The bearded man let out a curse as he died in the game, taking the time to notice how quiet it had gotten within the past few seconds, not liking it one bit.

When he turned around, he furrowed his brows and stared at Jon, who was now lying on the floor, on his back, scrolling through social media.

The second Jon noticed Luke staring down at him, he put his phone down and grabbed his stomach, rolling slightly and whining, staring up at the fridge longingly.

Luke pursed his lips together and walked over, standing above the determined man with his hands on his hips.

He kicked him lightly, and Jon stopped, staring up at him in disbelief.

"Did you just kick me?"

"Get up."

"Make me a sandwich."

"Get the fuck up."

"Feed me first."

It was quiet for a few moments while the two had a staring contest, a showdown if you will.

10 seconds in and Luke was getting irritated.

He ran a hand through his ginger hair, pulling it slightly to calm himself before walking back to the couch, flopping down on it, and crossing his arms over his chest.

He listened to Jonathan whine for a good five minutes before the younger finally decided to pick himself up off the floor, presumably after realizing how disgusting rolling around on it was.

He brushed himself off and sulked toward the couch towards his lover, rolling over the back of it to lie on Luke, hugging his waist and sliding down slightly to hang off the muscular man. He frowned, looking up at Luke, eyes practically begging.

Luke cocked his head and kept his arms against his chest, his voice sounding like a parent dealing with a toddler.

"I'm not doin' it, Del. You're capable of doin' it yourself."

Jon looked away from him for a second, staring at the fridge in the kitchen and responding with a hint of mischief in his voice.

"You can only suffer through my whinin' for so long 'till you get up an' make me a sandwich."

Luke raised a brow at him and laid his head back against the couch getting comfortable before closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep and force Jon to feed himself.

That is until he heard the familiar sound of a phone dialing and and an even more familiar voice coming through the device.

"Hello?"

Luke opened his eyes and stared at Jon, who had the phone a couple inches from his ear, smiling down at him with confidence.

"Hi Mrs. Patterson, how are you?"

Luke narrowed his eyes and shook his head at Jon, knowing what he was doing. The younger just smiled and pressed the phone closer to his ear.

"Oh, Jon! You know you don't have to call me that, sweetie. How are you, dear?"

Jon held back his signature giggle and swallowed, faking a slightly upset voice, just a hint of trouble.

"Oh, I've been good for the most part..."

"But?"

He sighed, acting as if he was reluctant to tell, all the while smiling at the man he was now straddling, keeping the phone away from his reach.

"Oh no, I don't wanna bother you, it's not a big deal.."

He heard her open a door on the other side of the call, then some rustling, and he assumed she was now in her room, invested in him and his fake issue.

"Don't be silly! You could never bother me, Jon. Now, what seems to be the problem? Don't tell me Luke locked you out of the house again?"

Jon giggled, ignoring Luke's narrowed eyes and indulging in the conversation between him and his mother-in-law.

"No no, 'course not. It's just that, well, I've been so busy today, kinda tired actually, but I wanted to try and make somethin' for dinner, but I don't really know how to cook. Got any suggestions."

He heard her sigh on the other side of the phone, she knew fully well how terrible of a cook he was, and she also insisted Luke treat him right.

When she answered, Jon wasn't the least bit surprised by her words.

"How about you just put Luke on the phone and go lie down. I'm sure he'd be happy to make you something easy for dinner."

Jon nodded his head, smiling smugly and continuing to talk to the woman on the other side.

"I wouldn't mind a sandwich....are you sure? I don't wanna make Luke do everything for me..."

She laughed, "Oh honey, he's your husband. It's his job to do things for you. Put him on."

"Alright."

Needless to say, not 10 minutes later, Jonathan was laying on the couch wrapped in a blanket, sandwich in his hands, and a smile on his face, with Luke now the one pouting, mumbling something about how unfair his life was, all while Jon just laughed and continued eating.