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Cooking dinner was not a common occurrence in the small Conlon-DaSilva apartment. It was rarer than the sight of them doing anything romantic in general.
But their one year anniversary was coming up and Albert wanted to do something special.
He stood in the doorway of the tiny kitchen, hands clasped together just under his chin. He had no idea what he was doing. Despite his years of friendship with Racer, all of the knowledge Albert had gained fell through. The guy barely retained information; he was lucky if he could remember what happened the day before. Hell, he didn’t even know what he had for breakfast that morning.
...did he eat breakfast?
Albert wasn’t too sure about that. His mind drew a blank the harder he thought, only resulting in a minor headache to begin his descent into misery. This wasn’t going to go well, was it?
His eyes slipped shut as he took a deep breath. Slowly, he exhaled, allowing the air to seep out at its own pace.
He can do this. He has the ingredients. He just needs to be careful with instructions and find the recipe Race had given him months ago. It shouldn’t be too hard.
Opening his eyes, Albert let his hands fall to his sides.
Spot’s not gonna be home for another hour at least. That left plenty of time for Albert to figure out how he was going to do this. After all, last he checked pasta doesn’t take that long to make. Not even the recipe he swore Race sent him.
Stepping into the kitchen, the ginger was slow. Taking his time to cross the wooden floor. He winced at the cold that rushed against his bare feet. How the hell could wood be so much colder than carpet?
Wait, that’s a stupid question. One of the stupidest Albert ever wondered.
Of course the wood is gonna be colder, it’s not made to be warm.
He padded across the kitchen, eventually making his way to the barely-cleared counter. Neither of them were ones to cook. While there were plenty of different things in the fridge and their cabinets, the most they did at home was make sandwiches. Hell, Albert’s rarely seen Spot eat anything but a sandwich of some sort at home.
Albeit, they would go out a lot. It was the perks of Spot being a personal trainer and Albert working as an electrician… in training. They made enough to support themselves and go out and spend some money for fun. Not a lot, of course. Spot was much more minimalist than Albert, leading to them barely having a stocked fridge.
Albert didn’t mind that. Although he grew up with a decent amount of food in the house, it was nice not to worry about stuff constantly going bad. Christ, they had an entire empty shelf in the door just because they barely had anything.
Except it made it hard for Albert to hide the stuff he bought.
Thankfully, Spot never commented on it.
Not that Albert cared too much. He would’ve brushed it off as wanting to try something new sometime and that’s that. Not like they started dating a year ago and he wanted to make something nice for the guy. Just a simple experiment.
He leaned against the counter with a small huff. If he was going to get anything done, he would have to find the recipe. And by God would that take a long time.
Pulling his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants, Albert went ahead and pulled up his text messages with Race. It was nice how they never actually texted “normally”. Majority of their conversations were on Snapchat. That meant whenever they sent each other important things, it wouldn’t be lost to chat history.
Of course, that didn’t mean they never sent each other things via text. Even now, it was clear the link Race had sent was drowned out by way too many messages.
It took ages for Albert to scroll through everything. How much time had actually passed was beyond him. It was likely it was maybe a minute or two but to him it felt like way more. It was stupid, so stupid. Why didn’t he just click the link to save it like a normal person?
Because he’s an idiot, that’s why.
Finally. Finally, he found it.
He clicked on the link, selecting the option to force it to pull up in Safari.
He’s not gonna lose it and be forced to scroll again. He refused.
By the time he had the link fully pulled up, Albert turned around, setting the phone on the counter. His eyes scanned over the words, a small frown setting into his features. This was far too much work just to make a simple thing of noodles.
Work that would be worth it in the end.
But dear God, there was so much stupid writing in the beginning. There were some helpful tips, yeah, but why did there have to be so much extra stuff? He’ll never understand the world of cooking.
With the page pulled up, Albert moved to the fridge and cabinet respectful, grabbing what he needed to make it. Noodles, vegetables, tomato paste… far too much shit.
Why did he follow through on actually making the sauce from scratch?
This was going to be a shit show.
A shit show that better be worth it in the end.
Albert tapped the screen when he realized it went dark so he could continue reading. Approximately 45 minute cook time, 6 servings. Yeah, that should be fine. They both ate a decent amount and it could be used for leftovers.
Though…
His eyes trailed over to where he had some ground beef thawing from earlier.
He wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to add any meat to it. As much as he knew Spot liked red meats, Albert himself was pescatarian. Which meant he only ate fish. Sometimes he would cave and begrudgingly eat hotdogs or cheeseburgers, but that was only if they were stuck at some sort of arena event.
But he didn’t wanna take that away from Spot. After all, he was prepping the entire meal for him. It shouldn’t matter what Albert liked. He could deal with some beef in the pasta for the sake of his boyfriend.
So, Albert continued on as normal.
He scrolled past the ingredients, already knowing he had everything. The sooner he started the sauce, the better off he would be.
What sucked was the fact he would have to begin immediately with the meat.
Pulling out a decent-sized pot, Albert set it on the stove. It felt a bit weird having to cook meat in it, but he was just following the recipe. It was just going to be awkward for a while.
Taking the bottle of olive oil, he measured out the allotted amount and dumped it into the pot. Then, with a swift motion, he turned the burner on to the designated heat.
When he went to grab the thawed meat, he paused.
This was the moment where it was all or nothing. As soon as he started cooking the meat, he would have to deal with it for the rest of the meal.
He grabbed a steak knife out of the holder before picking up the package. With a simple swipe, the plastic was sliced open. Setting the blade down, Albert pulled the packaging open.
There was no turning back now.
He carefully dumped the ground beef into the pot before setting the empty plastic to the side. Grabbing a wooden spoon, he looked back at his phone. Upon reading ahead, he was so glad he precut everything. He would’ve dropped dead right then and there if he had to chop anything now.
As the eight minutes passed by, Albert continued to follow the instructions. Soon enough, he was adding the onions before letting it simmer.
Idly, he stirred the pot from time to time. His eyes were mostly glued on his phone, scrolling through TikTok like his life depended on it. It was a nice way to pass the time.
By the time Albert was on the final step with the sauce, he had calmed down a bit. Not that he was too antsy, he was just… nervous. He wanted this to be perfect. The two weren’t able to go out anywhere fancy since apparently a lot of people have anniversaries in June. Either that or people were a bit too eager to go out to eat during the sixth month of the year.
After adding in the tomato paste and garlic and a select few other ingredients, he made care to stir it for almost exactly a minute. It wasn’t too hard given the next video he watched was just barely 50 seconds, so there was a plus there.
Jumping back to the recipe, Albert scanned over the next step before setting the phone down, screen up. He needed to add water, some crushed tomatoes, salt, and a “generous pinch” of pepper. Then all he had to do was stir it and let it simmer on low for 25 minutes. Not too bad.
With a quick glance ahead, Albert took note he had to start cooking the pasta itself 10 minutes in. Alright.
He followed the instructions, scraping the meat and veggies off the bottom of the pan before officially letting it simmer. With a quick set of the timer, Albert turned his attention back to his phone.
Opening YouTube, it didn’t take long for him to find a 7 minute video.
He stood there, hunched over the counter with his elbows propped up on the stone. Occasionally, he would move back to the stove to stir the sauce. Of course, he didn’t pay too much attention.
When the video finished, Albert jumped into action with the pasta. There was 17 minutes left on the timer, meaning he had a couple minutes to spare. Maybe then he could figure out how much salt he’s supposed to put in the damn water.
In the end it wasn’t too hard to gauge. He just dumped a decent amount into the half-full pot and set it on the burner diagonal from the sauce. Turning the handle away from the main walkway, Albert turned the dial to let it boil and stepped back. It wasn’t going too bad.
Turning back to the sauce, he picked up the wooden spoon and stood there for a moment. The website had mentioned that he should taste it from time to time, make sure it was properly seasoned.
But the stuff was hot, he didn’t wanna burn his tongue.
He pursed his lips, staring at the red sauce as it continued to simmer on the hot burner. A small taste wouldn’t hurt. After all, he can just blow on it and be on with his life. He just didn’t want to have to suffer through dinner with a burnt tongue, unable to taste what he made.
Albert dipped the spoon into the pot, scooping a small amount of the pasta sauce.
With one simple taste, he was surprised to find it didn’t taste half bad. He did pretty good for his first try.
Now that he was content, Albert went back to watching YouTube.
It wasn’t long before the water was boiling and he had to grab the noodles.
With the box in his hands, Albert read over the directions on the side to get a good grasp of how long to cook the pasta. The label stated 10 minutes, which meant he would have to start testing it at about 8 minutes. That wouldn’t be too hard.
He opened the box and dumped the noodles out. It felt oddly surreal seeing the long noodles stick straight out of the pan. As much as he had seen spaghetti cooked in videos and on TV, he had never actually witnessed the process.
It was at that moment anxiety decided to hit him like a truck. Full on, straight into his chest. It was almost like a physical force had knocked him into an altered form of reality. Suddenly he was hyperaware; his clothing rubbed wrong against his skin, he heard every noise in the apartment along with the sizzling of the sauce and faint blabbering of the video. Everything was shoved full force into his senses.
Albert stood there, box in hand as he tried to process it all.
His heart pounded against his ribs, ramming against it as if it were trying to break free. At the same time, a shiver coursed through his body, adding to the bizarre sense of consciousness.
His racing heart was what made his thoughts move a mile a minute.
What if Spot doesn’t like it? What if he came home with some fast food takeout like a normal day and it was all in vain? Does Spot even like pasta?
Fuck, is Spot allergic to pasta?
God. Shit. Fuck. He forgot to check what Spot was allergic to. What if he grabbed something and used it and Spot broke out into hives? God, that would be the worst anniversary ever.
A small whimper made itself heard and Albert was thankful he was alone. It was a pathetic sound, one of worry and panic that he never allowed the public to hear.
He finally set the box down, his vision blurred and unfocused as he stared at the cooking food. It’s going to be fine, it’s all going to be fine. Spot’s his boyfriend, he would know if the guy was allergic to something.
But… What if Spot lied? Or… What if he doesn’t like the meal?
He didn’t put it beyond Spot -- or anyone for that matter -- to pretend to like the food and just order something later in the night. Anyone with a sense of decency would wait until Albert had long since fallen asleep.
Albert closed his eyes, taking a shaky deep breath through his nose.
Everything’s gonna be alright.
Nothing will go wrong.
Albert peeked one of his eyes open to glance down at the cabinet next to him. Quickly, as if he were worried about embarrassing himself, he knocked on the wood.
By the time he managed to get himself to settle down, the noodles were nearly done. It was a bit odd knowing he had spaced off for almost 10 minutes, but it happened nonetheless. He just hoped the stuff didn’t need to be stirred too much.
Following the rest of the cooking instructions, he ended off with strained pasta being tossed into the pot of sauce. With a quick stir, Albert stepped back and sighed. It was basically done. He did it.
A small smile tugged at his lips only to be whisked away.
There’s still so many possibilities of him fucking this over.
He could spill the sauce, overcook it as he waited for Spot, forget to dress up nice… but he had plenty of time. There was at least 15 minutes before his boyfriend was home.
Albert rested his arms on the counter, allowing his head to lul forward as he shut his eyes. It was almost 7 P.M., it was barely evening. At this point on a normal day he would’ve been wide awake playing video games or watching videos. Hell, maybe he’d even be harassing Spot, who knows.
But this isn’t a normal day, it’s their fucking anniversary. And now he’s exhausted for no fucking reason.
How much worse could it possibly get?
He pressed one of his hands to his face, letting out an exasperated sigh. He stayed like that for a while, ignoring the blaring time on the stove. He knew better than to assume he’d be in a position like that for much longer than a minute.
The light click of the front door closing went unnoticed by Albert. Despite how aware he had been earlier, suddenly he was ignorant. Everything that went on around him was ignored, purposely or not. His fatigue was enough to keep him bent over the counter, his eyes shut and head resting in his hand for support.
He didn’t notice the rustling just outside the kitchen or the heavy footsteps that followed. Hell, he barely even realized there was a presence nearby before a strong pair of hands settled on his hips.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise?”
Albert practically jumped out of his skin. He tried to spin around but only ended up knocking his hand against the knife holder. He hissed out a few colorful words and in the end, didn’t turn.
His boyfriend’s arms slid around his waist, allowing the familiar feeling of the shorter man being pressed against him be made known.
“Didn’t think I’d ever see you in the kitchen,” Spot teased, resting his chin on Albert’s shoulder.
The simple, solid touch instantly made Albert relax. Tension he didn’t even realize he still had faded away and left him loose against his boyfriend. It was nice.
“Well, jokes on you, here I am,” Albert said back, smiling slightly. He tilted his head a bit as he tried to look at the brunette.
A small hum came from the shorter man, the vibrations sending a shiver down Albert’s spine. “And what brings you here?”
That was when the panic returned.
Every inch of Albert tensed up, his attention darting over to the spaghetti. Fuck, he didn’t even prepare it. It’s still in the pot and he hasn’t even gotten dressed.
As if he noticed the tension, Spot gently caressed his thumb along Albert’s side. “Hey, it’s fine. You good?”
Albert tore his gaze away from the food and forced a small smile. “Yeah, I am.” Once again, he managed to relax. The feeling of Spot trying to offer physical comfort being enough to loosen him up. Though, it didn’t necessarily take off the edge.
What did was the sly movement of hands reaching up his shirt, running along his skin until they were on his lower back. The feeling of calloused fingers barely grazing his body made his breath hitch. He bit his lower lip, forcing himself to focus on that instead.
It wasn’t a surprise that Spot knew just what to do to get Albert’s mind off of things. The way the brunette moved along his body was distracting enough. It was even more to have the man reach up higher, almost as if he were exploring.
Except, is it even exploring if it’s already known?
“If you say so,” Spot said with yet another hum before leaning in.
A soft kiss pressed against Albert’s neck, causing his eyes to flutter shut. It was a pleasant feeling, one that spread warmth throughout his body. The warmth gradually grew fiery as the kissing continued. They were rougher than the initial one, eliciting a slight reaction from the ginger.
He tilted his head, hoping to allow the man more access. Despite it being from behind, Albert was mildly surprised the reach the brunette had.
It was always difficult for him to think about how exactly any of this was possible.
The rough hands that still held his body slid down to his hips and held tight. For a short moment, Spot pulled away just enough to spin the taller boy around. The movement was enough for Albert to glance down, offering a smile.
Said smile was immediately cut off by lips crashing into his. Once again, Spot was pressed up against him, pinning him against the counter.
Instead of returning to his upper body, Spot slipped his fingers just below the waistband. His thumbs pressed low, just enough to get Albert to try and squirm. It wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, it was far from it. It just happened to be foreign yet again.
It was hard to focus on the chapped lips that moved so perfectly against his own, not with the small pokes and prods from Spot. There was so much going on at once that Albert didn’t know what to pay attention to or when.
Spot’s kisses trailed away from Albert’s mouth, pressing against his jaw as he slowly made his way to the ginger’s neck. Each one made him shiver, sending a shock down to the rest of his body.
Without the constant action, Albert was free to let his lips part as he basked in the moment. It all felt so wonderful, so… nice. He didn’t want it to end and he wanted more.
It was the first nip along his throat that extracted a quiet squeak from the taller man. The rush that ran through him at that very second nearly made Albert go limp. He hadn’t realized how deprived he’d been until then. And by God, was it amazing.
Spot’s hands dipped further, causing Albert to let out one of the most pathetic noises he’d ever made.
It was almost hilarious considering just how tough he likes to make himself seem. All stoic and angry and yet Spot always managed to do the perfect thing.
He could practically feel the smirk against his neck, making his cheeks heat up way more than necessary. Of course Spot would be cocky about it.
Any thought Albert had was cut off by the abrupt feeling of being groped. He hadn’t even realized the shorter man had moved one of his hands. With his focus on the bites, any other action had gone unnoticed.
A stifled moan slipped out of his mouth.
God, this was far better than the spaghetti.
The pleasurable heat that emanated from his groin was enough to let Albert forget about the food. If he could just get Spot to do more-
Wait.
The spaghetti.
Albert’s eyes shot open and he scrambled to push Spot away. The brunette backed off as some as Albert began to push, knowing better than to try and continue. He frowned at the ginger, his brows furrowed with confusion and worry.
“You alright?”
Albert nodded, shifting a bit as he tried to regain any composure he had prior. “Yeah, don’t worry.” He spun around, stumbling a bit as he scrambled to turn the burner off. He didn’t need the pasta overcooking.
Sheepishly, he turned back to Spot. “I just… I didn’t want to keep it on too long.” Spot tilted his head at the comment. “I wanted to cook something for tonight and I didn’t want it to be overdone.” Albert bit the inside of his cheek for a moment before continuing. “I’ve never done this before. Cooking, that is, obviously.”
Realization washed over Spot’s features as the shorter man smiled up at him. That smile shifted into a grin within seconds when his eyes fell onto the pot. “Then let’s eat. We can continue later.”
Albert would’ve been perfectly fine if Spot didn’t wink right after that.
The sheer action nearly kicked his knees out from under him.
“Yeah,” Albert managed to say, swallowing as he tried to form words. “Later. Definitely. Yes.”
Spot smirked at the reaction, a bit too pleased with it in Albert’s eyes.
Maybe it would be a great anniversary after all.