Work Text:
Plodding into the room, you pout down at Sylus who sits typing at the grand desk in his office with a bored expression, glasses halfway down his nose. Tapping your toe, you wait until he finishes typing and looks up at you.
“The twins are making a mess of the kitchen again,” you grimace, “They’ve scared the cook away and are talking about making dinner.”
He shifts slowly, then stretches with an almost feline fluidity.
“What are they planning on making?”
“Does it matter?” you whine, “Don’t you think it gives the wrong impression to have the leader of Onychinus throwing up his guts in-between meetings?”
He removes his glasses and sighs, “I’m sure I can handle whatever they throw at me. They’ve already tried killing me several times before and have yet to succeed, let them try once more.”
Squaring your shoulders, you continue to pout at your nonchalant boyfriend as he gets ready to turn back to his work.
“That’s not what you said after eating that bad shrimp they cooked that one time. We were supposed to take a trip that week and not only did we end up canceling, but we spent the entire week in two separate rooms because we needed the separate bathrooms. And I remember passing you in the hallway and thinking you looked a little green in the face.”
You watch with satisfaction as his brow furrows, knowing that you’ve dredged up some unpleasant memories. Sylus doesn’t get sick often and you know you’ve struck the right chord with him when he sighs and pushes out of the chair.
“Alright, Sweetie, point made,” he says, crossing the office with a few long strides, “How long ago did they chase the chef out?”
“I dunno, the kitchen was already a mess by the time I got in there. I also managed to swipe the flambe torch from Luke,” you say as he glances down at you with a raised eyebrow and you explain, “They were trying to light the candles at the dinner table with it.”
When you reach the kitchen doors, Sylus steps inside for a second, only to return to you a second later.
“They’re gone. But their mess is still here,” he grimaces.
“They must have sensed you were coming and scattered,” you say, peering around his shoulder to examine the mess left behind, “I guess that means nobody eats. Unless we get takeout or something.”
He shrugs, “I’m already away from my desk. We might as well cook something. Unless you’d prefer takeout?”
You rarely find yourself saying no to cooking alongside Sylus, especially with how good he looks in his apron.
The majority of the mess you find to be superficial and the two of you manage to tidy most of it up naturally as you work on your meal. Meanwhile, Sylus plays his music over the speakers and your earlier, tense mood dissipates as the two of you hum and chat over the pots and pans.
Soon, the kitchen is nearly spotless and filled with such a delicious aroma you forget all about the twins. Sylus leaves you in the kitchen to dish out two well-portioned servings while he sets the table for two. Meeting him in the dining room, you admire the new set of candles he replaced the destroyed ones with.
Your chair is pulled out for you and before you can sit, you jump up suddenly.
“Oh, I forgot something!”
He watches you dash back to the kitchen with an amused sort of puzzlement. When you return, you excitedly present the bottle of red wine to him.
“I know it’s not as fancy as the ones you collect, but I thought it was tasty when I tried it and I thought of you. And I actually managed to get it in the fridge on time, so right now’s a good time to open it,” you explain. His eyes widen slightly and you feel the heat rush to your face, forcing the bottle into his hands and looking away, “Anyway, we don’t have to drink it tonight if you don’t want to.”
“Of course I’m happy to try it,” he says softly, his voice oozing affection and holding only a fraction of the teasing edge it usually does, “Especially since it’s a gift from you.”
“Yeah, well…” you murmur, continuing to avoid his eye. Wanting to change the subject, you suddenly reach up, “Come here.”
He raises an inquiring eyebrow, but does as you say. Having retrieved the bottle from the fridge, you now place your cold hands on the sides of his neck, grinning when you receive a small shiver from him that seems to roll through him from head to toe.
“Hmm… I should have known not to let my guard down around you, Sweetie,” he says, his voice a low, deep rumble and you know instantly that you’re in big trouble. Releasing him, you run away as you hear the bottle being set down on the table. Not even a second later, you feel his arms close around you, shrieking in laughter when his cold hands find the bare skin under your shirt just above your waistline. He chuckles, practically purring as he nuzzles his face against your neck, “Caught you.”