i wish there was some other way right now; seblaine
how’d he get into this; sebastian didn’t know. even his own mother couldn’t get him to cook something. sure, he’d made his fair few sandwiches in life. let’s face it, there was never a reason for sebastian smythe to get on his hands and knees and clean his own apartment much less cook.
he stood in the kitchen with the cookbook in hand. he’d gotten it earlier from the bookstore. he figured if he were going to be tortured with this, he would at least enjoy the end product. he shifted through the pages of the french cookbook and stopped on a stew that he recognized from his mother’s arsenal. he looked up when blaine came in. “hey killer.” he greeted.
blaine had certainly never had a need to cook. if his parents had wanted to hire a personal chef or eaten out every meal, they could have. it was his mother who had kept their kitchen, almost too big, she argued, a place of active use and inviting smells when blaine got home from school every day. blaine’s childhood was filled with memories of him and his mother chopping vegetables and her explaining recipes to him as he balanced on his little step stool. the family cooking didn’t continue much into his teen years, when his relationship with his parents became so strained, but enough stuck with him that he wasn’t a total loss in the kitchen.
there was something so satisfying about eating something you’d worked hard on and blaine was excited to share that with sebastian, as much as he seemed disinterested. he flashed a smile at the other’s greeting, leaning against the counter. “have something picked out?” he asked. he’d put some ideas on the back burner incase sebastian had none, but he was glad his roommate had chosen himself.
