Paul began to move about the kitchen, finding the ingredients he wanted and preparing the utensils, and Gabriel simply gazed on, like he was observing a piece of performance art.  His attention was rapt, his pale figure tucked out of the way, as Paul made breakfast.<br/><br/>It was a visual feast, to watch Paul cook-- he moved with such ease, such skill in his hands, though that was no surprise to Gabriel.  He knew how deft and flexible they were, how talented...  But this was a new way to see them work, and he enjoyed the demonstration of Paul's excellence in the kitchen.<br/><br/>The food looked absolutely delectable, arrayed on a single plate and placed at the table.  Paul sat down, and then patted his lap-- Gabriel instinctively understood, a pleasant thrill going up his spine, and obeyed without question.  He took his place, settling comfortably on top of Paul's thighs; it was as if he was meant to be there, so light and fitting so perfectly.<br/><br/>This was quite a treat, to be allowed such close contact, and Gabriel let himself press into Paul just a little, the barest brush of his slim shoulder and hip.  A wonderful start to a wonderful day...  He held his hands primly in his own lap, would not touch the food until given permission, no matter how delicious it looked or how hungry he was.  He would wait until Paul let him eat.