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Shane watched the door open softly. Harvey had taken a quick trip to Pierre’s to go buy some food for them both. Shane was left in Harvey’s little apartment to watch over the place, but there was nothing to watch over, so he sat and waited patiently.
Harvey walked through the door with two bags worth of groceries, smiling at Shane. His hair was gently windswept, giving him a sweet appearance. Shane sat up, his face going red with blush.
“I got the groceries,” Harvey said as he set them down on the kitchen table. “I have a plan.”
Shane furrowed his eyebrows. “What plan?” he questioned.
Harvey walked back over to Shane with his arms on his hips, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “I’m going to teach you how to cook, love.”
Shane’s mouth slightly dropped. “What, me cook? Oh no, Harvey, I can’t. I’ll burn the kitchen down!”
This made Harvey laugh faintly as he looked at Shane with those constant eyes of admiration. “Not with me around. Anyway, we’re above a clinic, there’s more extinguishers than humans.”
Shane, with a rough “Buh”, stood up, cracking his back as he did. His body wasn’t in the greatest shape, although he was trying to better himself. “Alright, fine, I’ll try it.”
Harvey grinned again and led Shane into the kitchen. There was a meals worth of items laid out for him: there was some chicken and some bacon, separated from the non-meat items; there were onions and garlic, sure to flavour the dish while stinking up the rest of the apartment; there were a few basic seasonings such as salt and pepper; there was some basic cream and some garlic and herb cream cheese; there was some spaghetti, some noodles peaking out of the tear in the packet. It was obvious what Harvey was making Shane cook.
“I thought I’d start you off with a simplified carbonara.”
Shane’s head already hurt from looking at the foods laid in front of him. He was no Gordon Ramsey, no. His limit were those pepper poppers and those weren’t a complicated prep. Even something like a stupidly simple carbonara like this was too gourmet for his usual cooking. There was even a time where he didn’t cook properly, during his struggles, which didn’t enrichen his abilities.
After some words of encouragement, Harvey passed him the white onion and a slightly blunt knife. “So, Shane, do you know how to cut an onion?”
Shane rolled his eyes, gripping the knife in his hands. “Yes, actually, I do know how to chop an onion, y’ dumbass.”
Harvey smirked at this, but didn’t say anything else. He let Shane cut the onion. Then the garlic followed, which also went surprisingly smoothly.
The pan was pre-heated by Harvey himself, and he had slung a glug of truffle oil in there which was already bubbling. He let Shane tip the foods in. Shane picked up a beaten-up wooden spoon to stir it all, but he wasn’t great at it.
“Babe, let me help,” Harvey whispered. He lay his hand over Shane’s spoon hand and guided it like a lighthouse guides ships at sea. With Harvey’s help, the food wasn’t being flung out of the pan anymore, and Shane could feel his heart melting at Harvey’s gentle touch. He could feel a small smile spread across his cheeks.
After adding the diced bacon, Shane continued stirring the pan until he remembered something. “Wait, Harvey?”
“Hm? What’s wrong?”
“Aren’t you supposed to put wine in this?” Shane turned around to see Harvey’s concerned face.
“I left it out because… you know… alcohol. But it isn’t going to ruin the dish!”
Shane sighed, but not angrily. “Harvey, I wouldn’t get bad again over some wine in pasta.”
“I know, I know, but I wanted to make sure you were happy and not unhappy! You’re my boyfriend, after all!” The panic in his voice was painfully obvious.
“You worry too much.” Shane held Harvey’s hands in front of him. “I’m glad you care, though.”
As Shane leaned in to kiss Harvey’s cheek, Harvey broke the bond of their hands because of a burning smell. “Shane, the bacon!”
Great. Small, charcoal-like stubs of bacon charred in the pan. Shane cursed before realising that there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. So, he rolled with it.
It took around half an hour to finish the dish. In that time, the two men kissed a lot and Shane put in too much pepper. Not even the spaghetti was safe as it had been undercooked and nearly boiled over the top of the pot.
Sitting down at the table, both men raised their glasses of water. “To Shane.” Harvey took the first bite, and his mouth had already tried to rebuke it. The pasta was too crunchy to be enjoyed. Pepper overpowered the dish like a virus, Yet Harvey still tried his best to smile and thank the chef.
“Oh, wow, Shane, that is – al dente pasta, hm? Its… unique.”
Shane smiled at Harvey before taking his first bite. His stomach immediately churns.
“That tastes like pure shit.”