Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Contrary to what international television showed, Ripper actually had patience for quite a few things.

However, here at Playa Del Losers, his tolerance was wearing thin–because mother of god, the food here SUCKED.

It didn’t taste bad or anything. Hell, it was pretty good for the three or four days he was there during Season 1. Now in Season 2, and being booted in a far earlier placement, it became blander than unseasoned chicken. This food was becoming more irritating than sharing space with a nerd–to him, that was a straw he didn’t think could ever be crossed. There was one thing he was willing to resort to, but to a guy like Ripper, it was definitely risky. His dad always said that women belonged in the kitchen for some reason, and hey, his mom cooked pretty decent meals whenever she actually remembered to do so for him and his brothers. But even so, no one could do it like he did–and god dammit, he was proud of his epic skills.

Thankfully, he knew where everything was in the kitchen, from poultry to garden crops, even alcohol. Lucky for him, he needed things from these three categories, and could find them as quickly as he came in. The kitchen was only really used at certain times of the day as well, and thankfully, no one would be here for a good two or three hours. They always cooked kind of late for some reason, and it irritated Ripper. It’s not like the recipes were that complicated either. There were some dishes he could pump out in less than an hour depending on how complicated the recipe itself was; what he wanted to make was something he could pump out in a little under forty-five. 

The poultry in stock was healthy, surprising considering the standards Chris always had for their own detriment. Guess the good quality buttered up the loss just a tad since they didn’t have to eat Chef’s cooking anymore. The Marsala wine hadn't expired either, and it was sort of exciting to finally use the real deal instead of one of his mom’s bottles that was lying around in a cabinet somewhere. The taste would be wicked, and the best part–leftovers! The prep time for a dish like this was pretty straight-forward in nature, patting the chicken dry and removing the tenderloins, not to mention getting the flour ready to coat the meat itself. God, he wished he was at home for a change just so he could rub it in his mom’s face. Plus, he always liked to see the smiles on his brother’s faces. The thought made him a little giddy inside, even if he hated admitting that out loud. There was also something so comfortable to him about cooking, it made the completionist in him run in circles with satisfaction whenever his hard work had come to light. It definitely beat the moisture of his part-time job at the local mechanic, but hands-on work was just something he’d been accustomed to for so long it flowed naturally to him. Plus, he liked fixing cars and tinkering with them. With food, Ripper could be just as experimental. 

“Babe?”

Ripper could’ve sworn he almost dropped the skillet he was about to use on the floor from the way he jumped. His head turned to see his girlfriend, Axel, and Wayne near the entrance of the kitchen. He didn’t even try to question Wayne’s presence; similar to Zee, he sort of floated around between everyone if he wasn’t hanging out with Raj or Bowie.

“Heard some noises in ‘ere. Not sure why Axel thought there’d be zombies…unless you’re a zombie in disguise?!” Wayne said, to which Axel pulled his arm.

“You can never be too prepared,” Axel replied. “Rest assured, my boyfriend would not jump like that if he was a zombie.” 

Ripper laughed forcefully. “Very funny, babe. This is the last place zombies would want to go.” Axel looked him in the eyes, upwards and downwards, studying his demeanor. He wasn’t sure if she thought he was being shady or that she managed to think Wayne of all people had common sense in this situation.

“You’re sweating more than usual,” Axel leered. “And you sweat a lot. You’re like a human faucet.”

“Gee, thanks for the delightful observation.” Ripper puffed. “Don’t tell me Wayne had an influence on you.”

Axel choked. “What? No, of course not! It just feels like you’re hiding something. I know you get defensive when you’re caught doing something weird.”

“Weird? Hah, me? Acting weird?” Ripper stuttered. “Naaaaaaah, you’re definitely fucking with me.” He turned his back slightly to check on his work–only to see Wayne messing with part of the sliced chicken, patting it and laughing to himself as it jiggled like a glob of silly putty.

“W-Wayne, put that back! Do you know where your hands have been?” Ripper growled. Wayne looked at him like a lost puppy, as he always did, really.

Wayne replied. “They’re on my arms, eh. In my arm bones.” 

Ripper sighed. “Look, just wash your hands and–I don’t know, leave? A man needs his privacy.”

While Ripper was scolding Wayne, Axel was browsing the orderly, albeit chaotic nature of everything set up. Seeing this kind of effort from Ripper was surprisingly attractive…wait, what the hell was she thinking? This was leagues better than anything she’d ever done!

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Axel said. “There’s no way this is your first rodeo, huh?”

Ripper rubbed the crook of his neck, looking away from his girlfriend. “...and what if it isn’t?”

Wayne’s eyes sparkled. “What’re you makin’ with that chicken, bro? And why do you have that big bottle with ya?

“First of all, that bottle is wine,” Ripper explained. “And second of all, it’s going in this puppy right here.” He patted the skillet lightly before putting it back on the stove, setting the temperature to a medium heat. He added a tablespoon of butter and olive oil, and once it spread around , he put the first two pieces of chicken right onto the large skillet. Wayne and Axel couldn’t help but simply watch–for a little while, it was like Ripper didn’t even notice they were there. A small smirk was on his face the closer things got to completion, and by the time each piece of meat was finally cooked, they lay on a plate separate from what seemed to be a sauce in a separate container. They weren’t half-bad either; in fact, the meat itself was a near perfect golden-brown. If she thought Ripper surprised her with that poem, she was definitely surprised now. Wayne was practically drooling just looking at the result, and the smell–holy shit, it smelled good.

 If Ripper wasn’t aware of Wayne’s looming presence over his cooking, then he definitely noticed it now. He could feel Wayne’s conscious stabbing at him, the urge to ask for a taste being too large for even words to describe. It wasn’t like Ripper could simply avoid the question either–he subconsciously made four servings like he usually did, one for him and the others for his siblings. It wasn’t like it was time for dinner either, but he had a feeling Wayne could care less about time. 

To be honest, a part of him was itching to see if he thought it was good or not. He wasn’t sure whether he was going to regret this or not. 

With a sigh, Ripper exhaled. “If you guys wanna have some, you can. I made way too much.”

“No kidding,” Axel laughed, while Wayne nodded feverishly. “It’s a mean chicken masala.”

Ripper’s eyes widened. “Wait, you know this?”

“Of course I do, who doesn’t?” Axel replied. “Most Italian places serve some variation of this. This takes the cake for creaminess, though.”

“We like it creamy at home,” Ripper chuckled. “Brings out more flavor. My mom’s is good, but she definitely makes it too saucy.”

“Thin saucy or liquid saucy?” Wayne asked.

“Oh, definitely liquid,” Ripper replied as he portioned out plates for the three of them. “You might as well drink it out of a cup. It’s gross.”

Axel laughed. “I didn’t think you’d be so nifty about food. It’s kinda cute.”

“S-Shut up,” Ripper said, flustered. “I could just, like, not give this to you at all.”

“We all know you wouldn’t do that to your cool, attractive, girlfriend. I told you, I was voted most likely to make you regret stuff.” Axel smirked, to which Ripper scoffed, a light blush on his face. 

Wayne didn’t even give Ripper time to pass his plate towards him–he’d already done it himself and started, no less. Ripper could feel Wayne’s leg bouncing on the chair, his eyes practically ogling the dish in front of him. After three bites, he suddenly stood out of his chair, placing the fork on his plate.

“I’ll be right back. I gotta get Rajie!” Wayne said, beaming. “He’s gonna love this!” He ran out of the room just as fast as he said, practically yelling Raj’s name at a volume that could wake up multiple forms of wildlife.

Axel smirked, swallowing her first bite. “You’re never gonna live this down, babe.”

“And by living it down, you mean getting embarrassed?” Ripper sighed, slumping into his chair. “You know having a hobby like this is super lame, right?”

“Lame how?” Axel asked, furrowing her brow. “Last time I checked, Wayne ran out of the room yelling Raj’s name just so he could have some of this good stuff. Plus, I’d say cooking is a good way to ‘rizz’ a girl up, you know?”

“Never say that word again. Please.” Ripper said, trying to hold back his laughter, but failing in the end. “That is totally cringe.”

“Did you not remember the sap challenge?” Axel replied. “You got us out of trouble with a fart. Say that what I just said is cringe again, I dare you.” 

“Okay, okay, you got me.” Ripper said, looking Axel in the eyes. “I thought you were gonna say this–me doing something like this wasn’t man enough or something.”

Suddenly, Ripper could feel his cheeks being squished. Axel pressed both hands on his cheeks, Ripper bracing for some sort of headbutt or eye-squish, or…whatever Axel had under her sleeve. But instead, he got a light bonk on the head. He furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Cooking is key for a survivalist, regardless of gender.” Axel said. “You’re still man-enough regardless. The fact that you were willing to learn more about me to win me over is a pretty manly thing to me. Just don’t let the world tell you what is and isn’t, okay?”

Ripper leaned against the crook of her shoulder, sighing. “Mhm. Thanks, babe.”

Axel ruffled his hair, a giggle emitting from the brown-haired boy. “Just know the only person with more balls than you is Bowie.”

“Shut up.”

Chapter Text

“Wayne, what the fuck are you doing,” Ripper said flatly. “And why the hell do you have Julia in a death grip?”

“Because I’m not lettin’ her go until she says what she’s gotta say!” Wayne said, the stern look on his face almost unbecoming of the kind of person Wayne actually was. 

Julia sighed. “It’s not as big as he’s making it to be. He’s just here because it has to do with MK.”

Ripper’s eyebrows raised. “You’re friends with MK?”

“Yeah, bro!” Wayne replied. “Well, Rajie is obviously my number one, but we’ve been gettin’ to know each other a lot more, eh! Especially when talking about Julia.” Julia could feel her face flush up, and wiggled out of Wayne’s grasp.

“S-Shut up! And what do you mean you two are talking about me?!” Julia shouted, with a finger instantly shushing her from Wayne. 

“Well, love advice, pranks, all sortsa things, Jules,” Wayne replied. “Plus without me, you wouldn’t be able to do these things ya wanna do~.” Julia growled in the realization that somehow, Wayne was right. I mean, he’d even brought some of Ripper cooking to taste for herself, and it was way better than it had any right to ever be. Wait, was Wayne even qualified to give advice on romance?

“Whatever, buttknuckle.” Julia said. “Look Ripper, normally I wouldn’t even try to talk to someone in your league.”

“Because I’m just that sexy, right?” Ripper said, raising his eyebrows. Julia could feel bile rise in the back of her throat. “Save that shit for when you’re with Axel. God, don’t make me suffer through that.”

Julia sighed. “Look, I came here because…well, you can cook things. I was wondering if you could help me bake something specific.”

“Wait, doesn’t your family own a bakery?” Ripper asked. “Why are you asking me for help?”

“Um, you think I want to mess up my nails kneading dough? When I just got a manicure?” Julia scoffed. “Plus, I don’t trust Wayne to help me.”

“What? Why not?” Wayne asked, looking almost offended. Julia rolled her eyes. “You and Raj are just going to play with that dough like it’s an edible basketball. I don’t think so.”

“Come oooon, Jules! Let me help out!” Wayne said, shaking her a little.

“...just let him help, man.” Ripper said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Besides, he’s technically an honorary taste tester.”

“RAJIE! WE’RE TASTE TESTIN’, BRO!”

This was going to be a fun one.