Chapter Text
Steve Carlson, let it be known, is a chef. He doesn’t refer to himself that way, of course. But the degree in Culinary Arts counts for something in anyone’s book. And he has this thing about meeting people and, if he likes them, inviting them to a home-cooked meal at his house. Now, such a habit has regrettably confused many over the years. Members of each gender, some in-between, even couples if you count that group party he’d organized when he was 25 and got caught up in what turned out to be a ‘swingers’ audition. But that’s the way he is. Steve, when he gets a ‘good vibe’ will befriend strangers in an intimate fashion that boggles the mind. Can’t lie though. This is exactly why Chris loves him so damn much. Not that frou-frou, champagne and roses kind of romantic love that makes Chris want to get down on one knee. They’re friends, brothers in ways that aren’t genetic. Others who know them hint around that maybe Steve feels more for him than he’s let on but…
He likes watching him dance around his kitchen. All the latest appliances, great (read: expensive) utensils, pots and pans and skillets in his possession that Chris is a might bit jealous of. Yeah, Steve is a chef whether he calls himself that or not. And somehow when Chris leans against the counter and watches him move so gracefully, flipping steaks in a skillet and tossing salad with tongs and eyeballing the right amount of olive oil and Balsamic vinaigrette to add to his roasted potato wedge/vegetable concoction, somehow tonight he feels this strange twist in his gut. Like his heart has suddenly dropped into his stomach. He hopes it’s from the wonderful aroma permeating the place.
Chris’s stomach rumbles loudly. “God, dude, you finished yet ‘cause I’m starving!” He chalks up the twist to hunger pains. Really, nothing else it could be, right?
“Don’t get your knickers in a knot….” He chuckles, then sticks his nose into each container and takes a good whiff. “Yup…Done.” He grins at Chris. Chris leans toward the stove. Steve puts a hand out. “Uh uh. You can have a taste but you can’t eat until the table’s set.” He cranes his neck to look in the dining room, then back at Chris. “Coulda sworn that was your job, Kane.”
It was. Until he got mesmerized by Steve in his kitchen. He catches himself before he stomps his foot. Why does it have to smell so damn…? “Okay, okay. Just one bite. Promise.”
“Come ‘ere then.”
See, up until then he thought Steve would scoop something into the bowl of a serving spoon of some sort and hand it to him. But Steve doesn’t think about it, just holds out a bamboo serving fork with a speared piece of steak in his direction. Chris stares at him a second, stunned. Never before in their friendship has Steve actually tried to feed him. He just gazes calmly back at Chris, waiting for a reaction. Chris blinks, leans forward again and takes the steak gingerly into his mouth, taking special care not to impale either of his lips on the fork. They look into each other’s eyes as it happens, both barely breathing, still as statues. Chris’s eyes finally close when a rich, smoky sweet flavor bursts into his mouth while he chews. He moans, in the grip of a food orgasm. A minute later, when the steak is swallowed he opens his eyes to see Steve staring intensely at him.
“Was it good for you?” Steve asks teasingly, his voice a little hoarse.
“…..Yeah…” Only it comes out more as a question. One of Steve’s eyebrows rises.
It dawns on Chris why he can’t seem to hear anything at the moment but his own heartbeat. The way Steve is watching him, the slight curve of his lips, the fact that he hasn’t yet backed up from him. When his stare snags onto Chris’s lips it becomes obvious. Suddenly his lips are drier than a desert. He licks them subconsciously, his breath hitching when Steve tracks the movement.
He has no intention of kissing Steve. None. But it happens. And he can’t stop it. He can’t pull back or let go of Steve’s shoulder or makes himself not sink into him. What he can do, the only thing he can do, is exactly what he does. He holds on for dear life and hopes Steve will be able to make breakfast tomorrow morning taste as good as dinner tonight...