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[likethelight]

< An.Exorcist > Aʟʟᴇɴ Wᴀʟᴋᴇʀ

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[swellter]

[ Her eyes narrow on him. Don't think he can't read the little puffer fish. Toxic. That's what he is.

The suggestion gets him moving again, soul touching forgotten when he has something to focus on. He goes to the sink to wash his hands as usual and gets to work, chopping up those scallions in the most terrible manner with some pieces not fully cut all the way and clinging to each other in a ribbon of plant matter. Job well done, he moves onto the fruit and chops it up into large chunks, maybe a little too large, and sets that aside too before cleaning up the mess of juice he left behind. At least he cleans up after himself... >_> ]

[likethelight]

[ How mean, he is nothing of the sort!! He's pure sunshine.

But hold on there mister, right before he thinks he's done with the scallions Allen is going to just... lean over his shoulder and right up into his personal space while watching how he's cutting those. Or rather, not cutting. Allen might not know a lot, but: ]

You need to make sure you cut them lot more thinly. [ said gently but very seriously! ]

[swellter]

[ Pure toxicity even predators throw him back with a 'hell no'! ]

Thinly?

[ He asks, turning his head his way. ]

How thin?

[likethelight]

[ He loves you too. ♥ ]

Like this-- [ He holds out his hand for the knife so he can demonstrate. They're not sliced evenly thin, but they are very thin and regular cuts. ]

Make sure to cut all the way through too, so they're like little rings.

[ Even before Viktor tricked him into being his kitchen assistant, one of Allen's part time jobs at the Order was in the kitchens. And he's a connoisseur who takes food very seriously. ]

[swellter]

[ That was not the implication at all. ]

[ He hands over the knife, hilt first, and watches him very carefully. He stands a breath away, chin just above his shoulder, completely in his personal space. ]

You're good at this.

[likethelight]

[ Ehehe. ♥

Allen looks over at Shouto with a sheepish little laugh, even if he is right there. He doesn't seem to mind or be flustered at all though, not by this point, and just waves the compliment off with an offhand gesture. ]

Not that good. I just used to work in a kitchen.

[swellter]

You did?

[likethelight]

[ Hands up, hands up!! He sets the knife down so he can more properly try to downplay any importance Shouto thinks that has!! ]

Just part time. Mostly I'd help with serving and cleaning.

[swellter]

[ Too late. He looks over at the noodles. Made from scratch. The dumplings. Sweet soy sauce. That was more than serving and cleaning. He should know. ]

You're a cook.

[ There's a sort of amazed look in his eyes as if seeing him for the first time. ]

That's amazing.

1/2

[likethelight]

[ oh my GOD ]

I'm really not!! [ cooks are amazing and wonderful magicians of taste who need to be protected and revered and that is not him!!!

...is he becoming one by accident?!?!? oh god!! ]

2/2

[likethelight]

—ah! The noodles!

[ Seeing foam bubbling over the side of the pot, he realizes woefully late that he got distracted, they've been in there too long. He swoops in to whisk it off the heat and looks around in a panic for a strainer where did he put the strainer. ]

Quick, cold water!!

[swellter]

[ Yes, you are. He could have gone longer without realizing it but having Allen actually try and teach him how to cook, it finally clicked.

The sizzling pot saves him from further question, and the command has him moving. Reaching the side of the pot with his right hand, he shocks the water with a drastic temperature drop just above freezing.

Have cold noodles Allen. ]

[likethelight]

[ Well that-- is one way to do it. ]

O-oh. [ Blinking a touch owlishly, his search for the strainer (that is literally right in front of him) momentarily forgotten, Allen stares for a moment. And leans over to confirm that the pot didn't just suddenly become a block of ice (he was kind of expecting that).

He looks up to Shouto then, one side of his mouth quirking up in lopsidedly sheepish little smile. ]

That works.

[swellter]

[ Ice isn't the only thing he can do. He reserves that kind of extreme output for fights, but heroes don't just fight. They save too. And extreme temperatures aren't conducive for the average citizen. In the case of hypothermia, he can't just light up his fire and expect not to damage the delicate tissue of human flesh. He knows how to control his output. Something like a boiling pan isn't any different than making tea, except he's using his right side instead of his left and he's always had better control of his right side.

Shouto steps aside, giving Allen room to 'cook'. ]

Are they ruined?

[likethelight]

[ It's more that Allen would have half-expected it because that's how his luck tends to go, not so much as a statement on Shouto's abilities. You kind of get used to things going weirdly wrong even when there's no earthly reason they should have gone that way.

He peers in as if that might tell him one way or another, before reaching for the strainer that is so obvious now that he isn't panicking and draining the noodles. ]

No, not ruined... [ He knows that much even from just sight, it's a matter of experience, but his tone is still lamenting. He quickly fishes out a single one to test and chews on it, looking both relieved and a little crestfallen. ]

Just a little soft. [ He overcooked them on Christmas, tragic... his shoulders droop a little. ] Sorry.

[swellter]

[ A quizzical look. ]

Why are you sorry?

[likethelight]

[ ? Is that strange?

He looks up and shrugs lightly with a slightly awkward smile, not seeming particularly upset. Just sheepish and a bit disappointed. ]

It's nothing. I just wanted to make them properly.

[swellter]

They look proper.

Do they taste bad?

[ Is that why he's upset? ]

[likethelight]

No they taste fine. [ He's got that part down!!! His saving grace is he always gets things to taste pretty good, even if not always what they're supposed to taste like.

He deposits the drained needles into a bowl he had already gotten out to serve them from though, and holds it out towards Shouto. ]

Here, try it.

[swellter]

[ Considering his own attempts in the kitchen often end in... not very tasty food, Shouto considers anything edible a win. So, if it tastes fine, what's the problem?

He takes the bowl still, glancing at him from under his lashes, not quite understanding the issue, but tries it nonetheless.

Using a pair of chopsticks he picks up from the drawer, he slurps up a few noodles, chewing thoughtfully.

A glance at Allen. More chewing. A lick of his lips at the end and - ]

It's good.

[likethelight]

[ Any nervousness or gloom he had while watching Shouto try it evaporates as he brightens up like the goddamn sun. ]

Ah? Really?

[swellter]

[ A very firm nod. It's freshly made noodles. It's cold. What else could he ask for? Except, of course, for the dipping sauce. ]

You're a good cook.

[likethelight]

[ Don't worry, over to the side is dipping sauce he mixed up earlier so it'd have time to sit and meld and get extra tasty. These are the important things you learn from religiously watching the every move of master chefs like Jeryy!!

The compliment has him again waving his hands sheepishly as if he might ward the notion off that way, but he's also smiling and still positively glowing. ]

I like watching good chefs. [ also in Trench he's become obsessed with watching cooking shows on his omni before bed. it's deeply satisfying. ]

I'm just glad Viktor showed me how to make them.

[swellter]

[ He knows it's where Allen was working, yet he stays put, watching him because that's not what's important, not to him. ]

You are a good chef.

[ Watching all those cooking shows before bed, Shouto would have noticed his interest in the art and found no reason to question him when he proposed to make dinner here and there. He wouldn't have said anything, of course, not if Allen didn't make a point of it like he has now, pretending he wasn't good at something he clearly excelled at. ]

I like watching you.

[likethelight]

[ That's--

...that... hits Allen in a very weird way, making his throat tighten up. Not even that it convinces him at all of the notion he's actually good, but something about that unwavering belief... No, not even that, but I like watching you said with such simple, quiet insistence--

It strikes something deep inside him that still aches a little, that he didn't even know was there. And feels so personal and intimate, infinitely supportive, even if of course it isn't actually a surprise to him. So his smile drops for a moment at that to be replaced with such a gently caught kind of expression, not sure how to respond at first. Not able to at first until he swallows past the lump in his throat, and steps forward to gently take the bowl from him. So he can set it aside on the counter, slowly curl his fingers into the edge of Shouto's apron to pull him lightly forward by, and set his lips against his delicately with a quiet kind of purposefulness. No rush, no hurry. Letting the kiss run its course in a long, drawn out and sweet moment. Like there's something he really needs to say with it, but isn't sure how. ]

I like being with you. [ He whispers gently in response without pulling back entirely, demeanor so gentle but serious. Even if he laughs lightly a moment later, such a quiet but happy sound, as something occurs to him. Bumping Shouto's nose with his unintentionally in a manner still so loving. ]

Even learning how to make something like soba for moments like this. [ the cursed noodle that Some Disagreeable People who won't be named nearly ruined for him.

...but he probably just got flour all over him too because the front of his own apron is covered in it. Still super messy. ]