Junior crossed his arms. "No. You're sick. Sit down before you fall over."
Ethan looked at him for a long second, then exhaled through his nose and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed without argument. Junior watched him a moment longer, satisfied, then turned towards the kitchen.
"Where do you keep your tea sachets?" he called over his shoulder, already opening the upper cabinet.
There was a rustle of fabric, then the quiet sound of Ethan standing again. Junior heard the alpha's footsteps cross the room before he could protest.
"Second shelf, left side. The green box."
Junior found it, pulled it down, and set it on the narrow counter. Ethan reached past him, fingers brushing the inside of Junior's wrist as he took the box and flipped it open.
"Use two bags and not three," he said. "And the water shouldn't be fully boiling. Seventy-five degrees."
Junior almost rolled his eyes but filled the kettle anyway, adjusting the temperature dial with exaggerated care.
