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Ezra had been sleeping on Kanan’s couch for two weeks now, and so far the man showed no sign of being ready to kick him out.
Of course, it helped that Kanan was gone most nights. From what he’d told Ezra, he worked at a bar, and that job kept him out of the apartment during most of the time that Ezra was asleep. He would come home late and Ezra would slip away in the morning before he woke up, only returning at night. Kanan couldn’t get sick of him if he wasn’t around, after all.
Still, he was sure it would happen one day. He tried to keep himself mentally braced for it, expecting that any day now, Kanan would tell him he had to leave.
What Ezra hadn’t been expecting was waking up one morning two weeks in to the smell and sound of something cooking on the stove.
He dragged himself off the couch and crept over to the kitchen. Kanan was standing at the stove, watching something in a pan. Ezra hung back, not wanting to get snapped at for…he wasn’t sure exactly what for, only that it could happen. So far, Kanan hadn’t been anything but nice to him, but in his experience, that could end quickly and for any reason at all.
“Have a seat,” Kanan said, glancing back at Ezra for a moment before turning his attention back to the stove.
Ezra’s stomach fluttered as he sat down at the counter. His instincts told him to bolt, that Kanan telling him to stay was a sign of something bad. But he wasn't about to turn down food if Kanan was going to offer it.
The silence that fell in the kitchen was strangely comfortable. Ezra ran a finger along the edge of the counter, staring down at the off-white, slightly grimy surface. For just a moment, the smell and the warmth emanating from the stove brought him back to his parents’ house, to the day that everything changed. The smell that filled Kanan’s kitchen now was almost identical to the scent that had floated through the house that morning.
Ezra was jolted out of his memory as a plate slid across the counter to him. Ezra picked up the fork that Kanan set down next to the plate, staring down at the food. Pancakes. That explained the painfully familiar smell. His mom had made the same thing that morning, wanting to do something special for his birthday.
“So,” Kanan said, sitting down across from Ezra and setting his own plate down in front of him. “I think we should talk.”
A dull pain formed at the base of Ezra’s chest. He poked at the food on his plate, suddenly not nearly as hungry as he had been just moments ago. He’d known this was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.
“I’ll go,” Ezra said, his voice quiet. He kept his eyes on the scuffed and scratched countertop, not wanting to look at Kanan. He didn’t know why this hurt so much. He barely knew Kanan, after all, and it wasn’t like this place was ever supposed to be his home. It was just a place to sleep for as long as he’d be allowed.
“Thank you for letting me stay this long,” Ezra said. No matter how much this hurt, he liked Kanan, and he wanted to leave this on good terms. “I – I know I shouldn’t have, and I’ll leave.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Kanan said. “I meant we should talk about, well…this.”
Kanan slid something across the counter to Ezra, whose eyes widened as he looked down at the small metal object. It was a key.
“Do you want to stay?” Kanan asked. "Permanently."
Ezra’s throat tightened as he picked up the key, staring at it was he tried to wrap his mind around Kanan’s question.
“Why – why would you…” he trailed off, unable to tear his eyes away from the key.
“Well, it’s pretty obvious you don’t have anywhere else to go,” Kanan said.
“Yeah,” Ezra said, setting the key down on the counter again. He knew there was no point in denying it. If he had somewhere else to go, he wouldn’t be here every night. But that didn’t explain why Kanan would offer to let him stay here. People didn’t just do things like that.
“What’s the catch?” Ezra asked before finally shoving a bite of his food into his mouth.
“There isn’t one,” Kanan said. Ezra looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t mind,” Ezra said. He was almost surprised to realize it was true. This place was warm, it had a lock on the door, and if this morning was any indication, Kanan was at least willing to feed him sometimes, which made it worth a lot more in exchange than other places Ezra had stayed. “It’d just be nice to know what you want from me.”
“Look,” Kanan said. “When I was about your age, I was on my own, too. Someone helped me and I ended up working for him. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than what I could have ended up with. I’m doing this because I remember what it’s like to be where you are, not because I’m trying to get something out of you.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” Ezra said, the words coming out of his mouth before he even realized he was thinking them. No matter what Kanan said, this couldn’t last. It would be better to just leave now, rather than wait until something went wrong.
“Hey,” Kanan said as Ezra moved to stand up. “At least eat before you go. No point in turning down free food.”
Ezra settled back into his chair. That, at least, made sense.
“It’s not that I – that I’m not grateful or anything,” Ezra said. “I just…”
He trailed off, forcing food into his mouth to give himself an excuse not to speak. He didn’t know how to explain to Kanan how he felt, or if he even should.
“Why don’t you just take the key?” Kanan said. “You don’t have to decide yet. Just come back tonight if you want to.”
Ezra’s throat grew tight again at Kanan’s words. Part of him just wanted to accept the offer, but his instincts told him to run, to leave before Kanan could get tired of him.
“Th—thanks,” Ezra muttered, not sure of what else he could say.
“People like us have got to look out for each other,” Kanan said. It was simple, as if it was just a known fact, something Ezra should expect him to say. The tightness in Ezra’s throat grew stronger until he was almost surprised he was still breathing.
“I’ll stay,” he said quietly. “If – if it’s really okay.”
“Of course it’s okay,” Kanan said.
Ezra picked up the key once more and slipped it into his pocket. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe “this guy was nice to me” was a terrible reason to stick around. Maybe things would still end badly. But for now at least, he would stay.