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Soup’s Up
Author: PD
Pairing: implied Col/Ry
Rating: NC-17 for disturbing scenes
Disclaimer: not makin’ any money off of these
Summary: This is why your mother said ‘look out for the quiet ones’
Author’s Note: If you don’t like things that make you glance around uneasily, then this probably isn't for you.
Colin smiled quietly to himself. He was known as the cook of the group, among other things that he didn’t quite like. But one of the titles among his friends that really stuck to him with pleasure was ‘Chef Mochrie’. He didn’t really know why he liked to cook as much as he did, he only knew that it was an almost meditative experience, the soft whisper of the knife as it sliced through the components, the light bubbling of the meat as it roasted in the oven, all to create a delicious and savory whole. Where he got his recipes, he never told anyone, not even Ryan.
He looked over his shoulder at the tall man, sitting and alternately watching the TV and turning to watch his friend as he moved about the kitchen with a fascination that Colin found…intriguing. But that kind of thought was not the path Colin wished to tread tonight, no. Tonight Ryan was merely someone to try out his latest creation.
Ryan sighed heavily, turning away from Colin to the flickering screen, feeling depression settle down on him like a heavy, much hated, cloak. Wayne’s picture flashed on the screen, the small scroll on the bottom reading ‘Whose Line is it Anyway? star Wayne Brady still missing, police investigating a recent tip received from an anonymous caller… Paris Hilton…’ Ryan rolled his eyes. Who gave a damn about that twit anyway? “I just can’t believe Wayne is still missing.” Ryan shifted to watch at his friend tending to the food. “You don’t think he’s dead, do you?”
Colin spoke without looking up, picking something out of the fridgerator and hefting it. “Oh, I don’t think dead. Perhaps he’s just chilling with some friends in an effort to get away from his wife. Do you like dark meat?”
“Dark meat is great,” Ryan smiled at the smaller man, a pleasant buzz from the beer washing over him. Colin’s eyes seemed to reflect the light oddly, almost catching it and not letting it go.
“So what is this recipe called, Col?” Ryan asked.
Colin smiled softly at the tall man sipping beer. “Oh, just a little something I found while out one night at the library,” he chuckled, checking the log of meat stuffed with rosemary and thyme, simmering with lemon wedges nestled on its top. Colin swiped a brush dripping with butter over it, sniffing contentedly at the smell, listening appreciatively to the hiss as the butter sizzled under the intense heat.
“Damn,” Ryan sniffed, sighing. “That smells really good.”
Colin straightened, rich brown eyes glittering. “Wait till you try it. I hope you like this one, I’ve been saving it.”
As they feasted Colin took only the barest of bites and the smallest of sips of wine as he watched his friend demolish his plate and go for seconds. Ryan was too busy to notice, except from time to time he’d look up and notice his friend watching him. “Did you breathe at all?” Colin asked.
Ryan grinned and blushed. “Probably not. What kind of meat did you use?”
Colin just smiled peacefully at him. “Chef’s secret.” He picked up the plate of the soft buttery meat. “Thirds?”
Author: PD
Pairing: implied Col/Ry
Rating: NC-17 for disturbing scenes
Disclaimer: not makin’ any money off of these
Summary: This is why your mother said ‘look out for the quiet ones’
Author’s Note: If you don’t like things that make you glance around uneasily, then this probably isn't for you.
Colin smiled quietly to himself. He was known as the cook of the group, among other things that he didn’t quite like. But one of the titles among his friends that really stuck to him with pleasure was ‘Chef Mochrie’. He didn’t really know why he liked to cook as much as he did, he only knew that it was an almost meditative experience, the soft whisper of the knife as it sliced through the components, the light bubbling of the meat as it roasted in the oven, all to create a delicious and savory whole. Where he got his recipes, he never told anyone, not even Ryan.
He looked over his shoulder at the tall man, sitting and alternately watching the TV and turning to watch his friend as he moved about the kitchen with a fascination that Colin found…intriguing. But that kind of thought was not the path Colin wished to tread tonight, no. Tonight Ryan was merely someone to try out his latest creation.
Ryan sighed heavily, turning away from Colin to the flickering screen, feeling depression settle down on him like a heavy, much hated, cloak. Wayne’s picture flashed on the screen, the small scroll on the bottom reading ‘Whose Line is it Anyway? star Wayne Brady still missing, police investigating a recent tip received from an anonymous caller… Paris Hilton…’ Ryan rolled his eyes. Who gave a damn about that twit anyway? “I just can’t believe Wayne is still missing.” Ryan shifted to watch at his friend tending to the food. “You don’t think he’s dead, do you?”
Colin spoke without looking up, picking something out of the fridgerator and hefting it. “Oh, I don’t think dead. Perhaps he’s just chilling with some friends in an effort to get away from his wife. Do you like dark meat?”
“Dark meat is great,” Ryan smiled at the smaller man, a pleasant buzz from the beer washing over him. Colin’s eyes seemed to reflect the light oddly, almost catching it and not letting it go.
“So what is this recipe called, Col?” Ryan asked.
Colin smiled softly at the tall man sipping beer. “Oh, just a little something I found while out one night at the library,” he chuckled, checking the log of meat stuffed with rosemary and thyme, simmering with lemon wedges nestled on its top. Colin swiped a brush dripping with butter over it, sniffing contentedly at the smell, listening appreciatively to the hiss as the butter sizzled under the intense heat.
“Damn,” Ryan sniffed, sighing. “That smells really good.”
Colin straightened, rich brown eyes glittering. “Wait till you try it. I hope you like this one, I’ve been saving it.”
As they feasted Colin took only the barest of bites and the smallest of sips of wine as he watched his friend demolish his plate and go for seconds. Ryan was too busy to notice, except from time to time he’d look up and notice his friend watching him. “Did you breathe at all?” Colin asked.
Ryan grinned and blushed. “Probably not. What kind of meat did you use?”
Colin just smiled peacefully at him. “Chef’s secret.” He picked up the plate of the soft buttery meat. “Thirds?”