beforetheprologue:
“Now, it’s been a long time since we’ve had this conversation,” Blaine started, digging through the large paper bag, nose wrinkling at the delicious—but powerful!— smell wafting from its contents. “But… I feel like we’re both mature enough at this point to try it again.” A small smirk played on his features, betraying his serious tone, as he kept his head down, searching for two items in particular.
Soon enough, he found them, turning to face his Nate with a packet of duck sauce in one hand and an egg roll in the other. The egg roll pointed in Nate’s direction was almost accusatory in nature, Blaine’s tone teasing. “Since becoming my husband, have your opinions on Chinese food sauces and how to use them changed at all or are they still terrible?”
Nate set their plates on the coffee table, shaking his head. “Blaine Michael,” he spoke warmly. “You do realize by saying that I have terrible taste, you’re basically talking shit about yourself.” He plucked the egg roll from Blaine’s hand and dropped it onto his paper plate. Sam and Everett had gifted them actual china one year for Christmas, but they never used it. “I’d rather die--” he licked the grease off his thumb “--than put duck sauce on my egg roll. It needs sodium. Soy sauce and egg rolls are perfect together,” Nate insisted. “Duck sauce is for ducks. End of."
