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“What’s cooking good looking?” You chided as you walked over to the kitchen in Steven’s flat. You had tried to entertain yourself with some of his vhs tape documentaries or scrolling through tik tok amidst the shitty wifi here as a means to distract yourself from the tantalizing aroma of the potato kreplach Steven was working on. Eventually you just gave in to temptation to just take a peek-just a glance-at what he was up to.
“It’ll be done in a minute. Don’t rush perfection, they say.” Steven grinned, his eyes still on the boiling potatoes as he stirred.
“‘Don’t rush perfection’?” You replied, pretending to be taken aback. “Are you saying our quickies aren’t perfect?”
Steven felt his face get hot as he dodged your eye contact again. “Oh, you’re a right witty one, aren’t you?” Truthfully you had never had any quickies before, let alone sex at all. You had kept it no further than long kisses in your few months relationship thus far.
“As witty as they come, Stevie.” You sighed, going to return to the living room before slapping his ass gently. He yelped your name angrily and cursed. You smiled, amused, to yourself.
“This smells incredible.” You said as Steven placed the kreplach on the table before you.
“I bet it tastes even better, try it.” He encouraged, taking his own chair across from you. You obliged and took a bite. Not hesitant, just savoring.
“Oh man, this is delicious. I didn’t know you were such a chef, Steven.” You said as you went in for a second bite.
“Well, I’m both vegan and kosher, so I have to make my own food most of the time. Plus, this is a family recipe.” He responded, pleased with your enjoyment of his cooking skills.
“Thank you, Steven, this was very nice of you.” You thanked with a smile in between more bites. He nodded and tried some from his own bowl as well before answering,
“Of course. All those dinner dates were very nice, don’t get me wrong, but this feels more intimate, I guess, at home.”
“Intimate?” You drawled jokingly, looking up at him with raised eyebrows, exaggerated. “What, do you have other motives, Stevie?”
“No! That’s not what I meant, I mean more like-like calmer, I th-“
“I’m just messing with you, hon.” You comforted.
“Oh,” Steven mumbled, giving a weary and awkward smile.
You both sat for a few minutes, enjoying the dinner besides a few pleasantries swapped about your work weeks and future bus schedules, the upcoming weather, and Steven’s observations about his fish, Gus.
“You named your fish Gus?” You asked rhetorically, wiping your mouth with a paper towel after the meal.
“I figured he looked like a Gus.” Steven defended.
“How does a fish look like…anything?”
“That’s my point. The name ‘Gus’ is unassuming and simple. Like…Gus.” Steven laughed as he gestured towards the tank.
“Alright, alright. I stand corrected.”
Steven got up from his chair and collected the dishes, you whispering a thank you as you handed him yours.
“That was very lovely Steven.”
“You’re welcome. My home is always open for dinner.” He said as he walked over to the sink. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?”
You thought for a second, and shook your head. “No, totally free. Why?”
“I just didn’t know how late you were staying, I was planning on walking you to your car.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” You teased, getting up and walking over to him.
“No, not at all. I-I’m sorry it came out that way. I’d, uh, actually like it if you wanted to stay…longer.”
As you reached his side he flinched a little. You looked up at him with a furrowed brow in silent question.
“I thought you were going to slap my ass again. I was getting prepared to parry the attack.” He explained, assuming a defensive stance.
“Is that a challenge?” You said, a mischievous grin burgeoning at the corners of your mouth.
“What have I gotten myself into…” Steven mumbled, putting the dish back in the sink and taking some steps back as you advanced.
“Trouble, Steven.” You joked, running at him. His breath hitched as he dodged, making a beeline for his bookcase.
“Oh you’re on!” You laughed as he hid behind it, grabbing a textbook as a makeshift weapon off a shelf.
“Please! I’m innocent!” Steven cried, shuffling as you mirrored his movements across from him, separated by the bookshelf. You make a split-second decision and ran over to his side of the bookcase, cornering him between it and the wall. He held the textbook up in front of his face.
“You think that’s gonna help, Stevie? I’m not trying to slap your face, here!” You exclaimed through giggles. You got closer, giving him nowhere to run now. He was mock cowering.
“Raise your white flag, hon, you gotta surrender. There's nowhere to go now.”
Steven hesitated, then dropped the book by his feet, raising his hands up where you could see them.
“Make it quick…” he grumbled. You caught him off guard by kissing him instead, his back pressed against the wall. He gasped into it, eyes fluttering closed in contentment. You could feel his chest lower as he exhaled, melting into your body from the contact you made with his lips. His lips were warm. Albeit a bit chapped. You pulled away, no more than an inch, but he chased your lips again. He didn’t let you go for minutes, his hands glued to your waist, grip tightening if you shifted the smallest bit. He was humming lowly, lost in you. You could hear his heartbeat slowing and face heating up as he put all his attention on your lips.
You didn’t want him to walk you to your car anytime soon.