There was something amusing and comforting about Hiroshi handing off the bags to him as they left the grocery, leaving him to be in charge of lugging them up to the apartment. It was rather -- domestic. It made him grin, even as the straps of the plastic bags were cutting into the palms of his hands.
Eugene carried the bags into the kitchen and set them down as carefully as he could -- he felt ready to drop them, but wouldn't let himself. He didn't want to lose face. How do you explain that you've never really lugged groceries before?
As he started pulling items from the bags and setting them on the counter, Eugene called over his shoulder.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"