Fuck! I was out of butter!

Just the thought of my T-bone steak made my mouth water and now I couldn't cook it. I heard there were people that cooked meat in olive oil but that idea just made me feel sad. 

I really couldn't be fucked to go to the market after the shitty day I had so... should I ask my neighbor?

Why did it feel like I was always looking for excuses to knock on his door? Maybe, because I was?!

Screw it! It was just butter.

I knocked on Casper's door and noticed that it took longer than usual for him to answer. Was I perhaps interrupting something?

He opened the door, wearing nothing but a short white towel. His hair was still wet, clearly he had just gotten out of the shower.

My brain instantly blocked like on the first day we met. Apparently, there was more than just those arms. A perfect swimmer's torso was complimented by a set of abs that I had only seen on TV and in the gym locker room.

Casper was utterly drool worthy. It took me a long moment to refocus on the original reason for bothering him.

"I'm T-bone steak, do you have some butter?" I said clumsily.

He laughed a warm laugh before it dawned on me what I had said. Did my mental autocorrect malfunction around him?

"Sorry, I had a long day," I said to my defense. "I was going to cook a steak but apparently I ran out of butter. There are people that cook their steak in olive oil but..."

"A good steak doesn't deserve that," he said, completely unfazed by the fact that he was half naked.

I smiled stupidly at him for agreeing with me.

"Let me check," he said, leaving his front door open. He returned a moment later, shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it," I said, quietly dissapointed.

"Would you like to join me for a movie and a pizza, instead?" he asked, enthusiastically.

Now, how could I say "no" to that? I would have to keep my latest one shot; Ganymede for later.