A/N: The. Height. Difference.

Rating: PG-13
Warning: Language, mentions of sex, sickeningly cutesy fluff
Word Count: 600
Characters: Dave Karofsky/Sebastian Smythe

Summary: Sebastian's cooking dinner, and Dave can't reach anything that he asks him to give to him.

Dave leans against the door frame of the kitchen, smiling fondly as he watches Sebastian cook. They're in his French seaside villa and through the large, open windows over the sink, Dave can see, hear and smell the ocean. The entire trip has been so peaceful and relaxing, just the two of them with all the time to spare, and Dave's in love with it all.

Now, Sebastian makes his way around the kitchen with practised ease, preparing some kind of elaborate French dish that Dave knows he won't be able to pronounce. They only had lunch three hours ago but Sebastian insists on cooking before it gets dark, and Dave's more than happy to admire his boyfriend in nothing more than a pair of boxers and one of Dave's button-down shirts in the bright light of the sun that streams through the window.

So Dave crosses his arms over his chest, letting his head rest against the door frame as he continues to watch silently. Sebastian grabs the wooden spoon from the counter so he can test the sauce he's in the process of making, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he swallows.

"Hey babe, can you grab the seasoning?" he asks absently, not even looking over at Dave to make sure he's still there. He doesn't have to.

"Where is it?"

"Third cabinet down from you, top shelf."

Dave goes to the cabinet Sebastian directed him to and pulls it open, staring up until he spots the small container that Sebastian's after. It sits right at the edge of the top shelf and Dave doesn't think anything of it until he reaches his arm up and stands on tiptoes.

He can't reach it.

With a huff, he stretches further, pressing one hand against the cool surface of the kitchen counter to push himself up even more. His fingertips graze the base of the container and he grins, but the touch just accidentally pushes it further into the cabinet and out of reach.

His face falls and he huffs again. Dave's in the process of trying to stretch further when he hears a low chuckle behind him and feels a strong arm wrap around his waist.

"Having trouble, baby?" Sebastian coos, his lips brushing the shell of Dave's ear and his warm breath hitting the side of his neck.

"Screw you."

"There's plenty of time for that later."

He tightens his grip around Dave's middle and stretches one arm up above them, pressing Dave into the counter slightly as he leans forward. His long fingers curl around the small pot of mixed herbs and Dave can feel his smirk as Sebastian kisses his neck and drops his arm down with the seasoning in hand.

"I'm not short, y'know."

"Mm, too short to reach the top shelf though, it would seem," Sebastian hums smugly, peppering more kisses along Dave's neck and behind his ear.

"I repeat, screw you."

"And I repeat, there's time for that later. Such an eager short-ass."

"I hate you so much."

"No you don't," Sebastian says happily, swatting Dave's ass playfully as he swings the cabinet door shut and slips away from Dave.

Sighing, Dave turns and pushes himself onto the counter, his legs swinging back and forth idly as he watches Sebastian go back to cooking. Several minutes pass in comfortable silence and Sebastian is in the process of cutting up some vegetables when he speaks up.

"Hey, short-ass," he calls teasingly.

"Hey, asshole," Dave shoots back mockingly.

"Pass me the pasta sheets, would you? I'm going to need them in a bit."

Dave sighs. "Where are they?"

"The cabinet above your head, top shelf," Sebastian says with a wicked smirk on his face, eyes glinting mischievously as he looks over his shoulder at Dave.

The box of pasta sheets hits Sebastian's head not a minute later and Dave walks along the counter-top with a wide grin on his face, towering above his boyfriend smugly and placing his hands on his hips.

"Who's the short-ass now, motherfucker?"

FIN.
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