@brocaderose!
Plans for dinner with Trois have been surprisingly easy to make. Though Job hasn’t much in his repertoire in terms of spicy foods, he can, by all means, make one mean chili con carne; paired with a side of white rice and corn pudding, and with peach cobbler for dessert, Job begins preparations with the hopes that this modest meal is able to convey his gratitude for Trois’ hospitality.
They hadn’t even known each other until a week ago and, though this wouldn’t be the first-ever instance in which Job has been offered a place to crash despite being a complete stranger, this does nothing to dampen his appreciation or cool the warmth which spread through his chest at the notion that kindness such as this is still very much alive. Sure, Trois’ place may be small, and riddled with all sorts of oddities (some of which, admittedly, send a chill down Job’s spine whenever he inspects them, which he does his best to avoid) - but a roof over his head and a place to lay his long limbs at night, even if it is just a couch all too small for the likes of him, is still very much something to give thanks for, especially when it’s rent-free. Above all, however, Job appreciates the company this sort of arrangement entails, never having to spend a night alone - and Trois’ is a kind, very interesting company, indeed. Job would be lying if he didn’t admit that the bulges in either side of Trois’ forehead and the darkness of his eyes intimidate him at first - but then, Job’s never quite been one to judge a book by its cover. He dare say he’s never met anyone quite like Trois before - and suppose that’s saying something, with how long Job has been on the road and all the different folks he’s met along the years.
Though the meal doesn’t take very long to prepare, it does require some time to cook; the cobbler is the most time-consuming of the dishes, and Job has ample opportunity to give it all the attention and care that it needs while the chili simmers for a good hour on the stove. By the time he beckons Trois to the kitchen and begins to set their dinner on the table, his own stomach grumbles with great protest at the long waiting period. Each of them gets a large bowlful of chili, a hefty serving of rice and a generous slice of corn pudding as the room fills with the scent of peaches, the cobbles still baking in the oven.
“I put some extra chilies in it for ya,” he announces, rather proudly, and beams widely at Trois from across the table as he helps himself to one of the six Corona beer bottles he’s purchased just for the occasion. “More of a sweet than a spicy guy myself, so uh... hope it lives up to your standards.”