Raleigh Harper / Emily Watkins (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
callmeemily) wrote2014-08-28 02:21 am
callmeemily) wrote2014-08-28 02:21 am
Entry tags:
(spencer) cooking lessons plus good deeds
The list of things that Joel does for both of them is pretty long. It's ridiculously long, in fact, and that's why Raleigh stops by the store on the way home, and she gets a bag of groceries that are pretty much going to be dinner, even though Joel's got to stay late at the store and that usually means pizza.
She's talked to Spencer about it, before - it was sort of his idea, but after she puts the bag down on the kitchen counter, she moves back to the living room where he's on the couch. "Hey, Joel's out late and I got groceries - you still up for helping me?" She knows that the answer's yes, of course, but she's still going to ask. She felt like it was time to do something for Joel, something that both she and Spencer could do - and this at least seemed worthwhile.
She's talked to Spencer about it, before - it was sort of his idea, but after she puts the bag down on the kitchen counter, she moves back to the living room where he's on the couch. "Hey, Joel's out late and I got groceries - you still up for helping me?" She knows that the answer's yes, of course, but she's still going to ask. She felt like it was time to do something for Joel, something that both she and Spencer could do - and this at least seemed worthwhile.
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He gets up to follow Raleigh to the kitchen, feeling a burst of excitement in his chest that nicely counters how tired he is, and he barely even acknowledges the way Balto hisses her displeasure at him before she bounds up the stairs. "She's just mad that she can't be at the shop with Joel," he says, waving his hand dismissively in the direction of the staircase. "She'd much rather be doing her duties as a familiar than cooped up in the house. Don't tell Joel I called her that, he's in very deep denial that Balto's his familiar at all when it's really all too obvious."
He's a bit chatty tonight, it turns out, and he chalks it up to being happy at the idea of being able to surprise Joel with a wonderful dinner that he knows Raleigh will be ninety-eight percent responsible for, but he'll at least be able to say he sounded his approval and satisfaction at all the right times. The double-shot of whisky he'd had earlier might have something to do with it, too.
Spencer claps his hands together once they reach the kitchen, peering into the bag that's sitting on the counter. "All right, so what have you got in mind? And do try to remember that I've never been very good at this. I didn't inherit the excellent cooking skills my brother did from our mother. Tragic, I believe, is a word they once used to describe me in the kitchen."
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She pulls out potatoes and a couple of wrapped packages from the butcher, and some bread crumbs. "Cheeseburgers. It's not fancy, but I know he likes them." She rolls her eyes when he says he's not very good, but she shakes her head. "Honestly, you're keeping me company, which is step one - but also, I mean... you can scrub potatoes, right?" She looks at him with a smile. "That's something."
She goes to the sink and scrubs her hands clean before she moves back to turn on the oven, and she starts getting some pots and pans and bowls out. "Would you want to learn? Or is it just something you don't have a lot of interest in?" She's moving even as she's talking to him, not even thinking as she measures out the breadcrumbs and spices by eye into a metal bowl, so she'll be able to mix the ground beef into it, in a minute.
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He smiles to himself at the memory because while he hadn't spent much of his time as an adolescent laughing or even smiling much, he remembers very clearly the happiest moments with Dane and their mother. He's finding new moments to celebrate now, with Joel and Raleigh, moments that he hadn't expected because he was supposed to be alone for the rest of his life; but here he is, watching Raleigh get to work as she prepares the ingredients for the burgers that they're making for his boyfriend--no, for his fiance. Sometimes he still feels like he ought to pinch himself just to make sure it isn't all a dream.
He hovers a few inches away, though he towers over her enough to be able to see everything she's doing. "I'm... not particularly keen on it, no," he says, and it's not that he doesn't find the culinary arts an endlessly admirable trade; he's just spent twenty-nine years being hopeless in the kitchen, and he's never really minded it. There's something selfishly nice about knowing that even though he can't fend for himself especially well in the cooking department, he's got at least two people who would be happy to present him with another fantastic dish if only he were to ask.
"Shakespeare once said that 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers, and I'm pretty much the embodiment of that so I think I'll just do the things I can't possibly botch and let you handle the rest. I'll take full credit for the table-setting, though."
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"Okay, well, scrubbing is easy, can't screw it up. Use the green and wood scrub brush that's on the back of the sink, get them wet, scrub them til they don't look dirty anymore, rinse the brush and the potato under running water, and then put the potato on a dishtowel. Okay? We want four large ones."
The entire time that she's been explaining it, she's been moving, the breadcrumbs and spices and meat all going in together in a metal bowl, and she's mixing it by hand as they talk. "We're making garlic-oregano-parmesean oven fries - they're really easy, I just don't like washing potatoes," she admits with a smile. He's getting her out of the thing she doesn't want to do anyway, and it's weird that she doesn't mind having her hands covered in raw beef, but scrubbing vegetables made her unhappy.
She always had to scrub the potatoes growing up, and they made most of their good in giant batches that they froze, so Raleigh would spend what felt like an eternity scrubbing, and so now she pawned it off on anyone she could. She'd learned how to cook mostly from her mother, and even though that's a... complicated thought to have, she's still really glad that she just... knows, how to do all this stuff.
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He's half-joking--half--but this is precisely why ramen is the sort of meal he prepares, minimal preparation and clean-up but beyond that, far fewer chances to muck it all up; but he'd volunteered to help, and he really is happy to because this dinner is for Joel, a show of appreciation for everything he does and his boyfriend does so much. He knows Joel would say Spencer does the same for him, that it isn't a one-way street and they rely on each other, and it's all very true but still... He's glad that Raleigh had been ready and willing to put something like this together.
Of course, all these thoughts keep distracting him from the task at hand, and he's marginally concerned that Raleigh will end up threatening him with that chunk of meat in her bowl if he doesn't finish scrubbing by the time she's done.
"You say easy," he says, the amusement evident in his voice, "but you just named three ingredients in the name of the food alone, and it's fries. When I think 'easy' do you know what comes to mind? Popcorn. Oven-ready chocolate chip cookies. String cheese. That's easy." He glances at her with a smirk, and he's only teasing but he hadn't earned much more than a practically devastated glare from Joel once he'd rattled of the list of what his regular diet had consisted of, and he expects Raleigh would give him a very similar look. He's eaten significantly better food in the past few months than he has in the past few years, which he's grateful for, but the change certainly wouldn't have happened without Raleigh or Joel.
"Oh, did you work on the property today? I know I said my check is the best I could offer but if you do need help with fixing anything up, er... well, Joel looks awfully good in a tank top." He narrows his eyes, scrubbing harder at the potatoes because it really wouldn't do to start thinking about Joel's incredible arms and strong shoulders right now. "And I suppose I could probably figure out how to hammer a nail into the wall without breaking any new fingers."
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"There's like four things in them," she says with a laugh, and she's got a griddle on the stove as she makes the burgers by hand - big ones, but she just puts them on a plate for now rather than starting them cooking already. "Minced garlic, oregano, parmasean cheese, and olive oil. And salt, so I guess five things." She rolls her eyes when he extolls the virtues of string cheese and ready-made cookie dough, but she's smiling at him.
"I don't knock string cheese. I like string cheese." She looks over her shoulder when he asks if she's worked on the bakery today, and she gets this smile on her face, this smile she gets whenever she talks about it or really thinks about it. "Yeah, I was there all morning - obviously I managed to grab a shower," she said with a laugh, although she's ending her days way less covered in grime, now. The place was no longer quite so... alarmingly filthy, which was good. Really, really good.
But then? Then he said that Joel looks really good in a tank top, and Raleigh's face just kind of twists as she laughs. "Ahhh! Ahhh, don't say that! Don't say that! You're my brothers, you're both my brothers, that just weird." She waves her hand at him, and she can't not laugh. "I know you guys are- I mean, I know, but that is not a thing that I think about. If you want to come hang out and paint some stuff or wash some things, feel free, just- just..." She's not dumb, she knows some of just how much Spencer and Joel get up to things (and she's thankful for her headphones), but she just can't even wrap her brain around that.
"I love you," she says after a second, shaking her head ruefully. "Now, scootch for a second, I need to wash my hands, they're all gross and hamburgery."
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It wasn't all that long ago that hearing Raleigh say that, hearing her tell him she loves him, would have given him pause. It would have made his cheeks flush, might have even made him drop the potato in the sink, but as it is now, he only smiles to himself and answers with a soft hum. He hasn't said it back to her, not once, and he's felt guilty about that at first; but there's only one person the words come easily for, and Spencer just hasn't yet figured out how to extend his comfort zone when it comes to that particular phrase to include people who aren't Joel. Raleigh never seems to take it personally, though, and it's a testament to how well she's come to know him. She doesn't push, doesn't look affronted when he can't say it back, and it's something he'll always appreciate.
He does move for her, scrubber in one dripping hand and potato in the other, but he can't help but smirk over how utterly horrified she'd been by his mention of how good Joel looks, and it's not just in a tank top, it's at all times. "To be fair," he says, eyes widening innocently as he bats his lashes at her, "he looks much better out of a tank top. Those cardigans never did fool me."
It's the closest he'll ever get to discussing their sex life because what they do in their bedroom--or in the store, or in the ocean, or laid out over the table in Joel's apartment--is only ever going to be for them. Still, he has to admit that it's amusing to watch Raleigh squirm. It's what Dane used to do to him, and Raleigh sees Spencer as a brother so really, he's just carrying on a brotherly duty.
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Because she thinks she knows, really, not that she's ever thought about it. She's always loved easily; friends and family, she's the sort of person who gives her heart without reservation, even though it's hurt her a time or two. It's always worth the giving, even if sometimes it doesn't work out. So it doesn't bother her, she doesn't even wait to hear it in response or look at him - she just told him to budge over and got to work on her hands.
"Spencer Waters, you horrible man." She splashes water at him with a laugh as he talks about how Joel looks out of his tank top, and she's making a face. 'Stop, stop, seriously, I don't want to think of either of you like that! You're awful, you're so awful. See if I ever, ever make you a cookie again, so help me god." She sticks out her tongue at him, and then moves to the other counter, expertly peeling, and then starting to mince the garlic. "You are horrible, and I hope you know that." She's smiling, she can't stop smiling even as she chops the oregano, shaking her head.
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It's becoming slowly easier for him to act more playful around people who aren't his boyfriend, and it's still a strange sort of feeling to let this loose--even though it's not even that loose--rather than let himself get caught up with one thought or another that keeps that expression of craving distance that he's surely outworn by now on his face.
"I'm deeply attracted to the man I love, is that really so horrible?" he asks with a mock affronted tone, though his grin is more than enough evidence of how he really feels. He huffs when she splashes him but wipes the water off his forehead with his sleeve--well, actually it's Joel's sleeve because he's wearing one of his boyfriend's cardigans tonight, a habit he'd picked up the very day Joel had called Spencer his boyfriend--and continues his work on the potato. "You calling me horrible is a decidedly not nice thing to do, by the way, you have lost karma points for that."
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She just has to say something, so she's sure he knows. It's how she ticks.
"We're both in for a big dose of karma, I think" she says with a shake of her head, "Although, I think I might have cashed mine out with the store." She can't stop the way her lips quirk up into a smile, because she gets this silly look on her face even when she just thinks about it; doing this was absolutely the right thing. Opening a store of her own, having her own place... it was the right thing, and she didn't even know what got that look on her face.
She wrinkles her nose when he asks if it's that horrible. "Of course it's not that horrible, it's just- I mean, you can feel however you want, and you... should, but telling me about it, that's the horrible part," she says with a laugh. "I am an innocent bystander," she says with a shake of her head. "You're only a little bit horrible. Like.... a quarter of a percent. The rest is pretty great, if you ask me." She looks at him over her shoulder, flashing a smile."