Mesut walked into the living room and hung up the phone. He groaned.

“Yes?” Sami asked, looking up from his book.

“My dad,” Mesut whined. “He scheduled me to go to dinner with this Turkish reporter.”

“Why,” Sami asked as he pulled Mesut down to him, “do you still let your father arrange things for you?”

Mesut sighed and snuggled into Sami. “You know how he gets.”

“I do,” Sami kissed Mesut’s forehead. Mesut’s dad didn’t like that Sami and Mesut were sharing a house as he thought it meant that Mesut wasn’t going to be able to get a new girlfriend. So Mesut did what his dad told him so he could keep Sami.

“So,” Mesut nuzzled Sami’s neck, “will you come with me?”

Sami pushed Mesut away. “I knew you wanted something. You cuddle when you want something!”

Mesut gave him a pouty face. “Sami...”

“No! You go on your own!” Sami protested, “I hate those things.”

“But you know I’ll say something stupid,” Mesut said, eyes wide and pleading.

Sami rolled his eyes. “Just say “soy muy feliz”.”

“Shut up,” Mesut batted at him. “Come on. Please? I’ll do that one thing you like.”

Sami sighed. “Can I order two desserts?”

“Yes,” Mesut grinned, knowing he had him.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Mesut leaned in and kissed Sami. “I know I’m lucky every day.”