Gabe's Loves

“Because it’s true every time we cook together .” You said while swatting their hand away gently, still stirring the sauce.

“You distract me, then pretend it’s my fault when we end up with overcooked pasta and… whatever that weird attempt at ‘garlic bread’ was last week.”

“That was a creative interpretation,” Bella said, grinning.

You finally abandoned the sauce and looked over at them. Your whole chest softened the second your eyes met theirs. Bella always had that effect on you, like everything else faded the second they smiled. The annoyance was gone. “It was toast with regret.” You replied with a smirk.

They laughed and stepped behind you, sliding their arms around your waist, and settled their chin on your shoulder. “Still ate it.”

“Still regretted it,” you said, but leaned back into them anyway, like your body already knew where it was supposed to be.

Bella kissed the spot just below your ear, soft and slow. “This does smells incredible though.”

Your hand stilled mid-stir.

“I should finish this,” you said, but you didn’t move.

“Mhm,” Bella mumbled as their mouth brushed your neck. “You should.”

You turned slowly in their arms, eyes glancing to their mouth, then back to their eyes, then to their mouth again. You already knew where this was going. You always knew.

“You know how this ends,” you whispered, smirking.

“With dinner burning and you on the counter?” Bella teased, voice soft and low.

You bit your bottom lip like you were trying to be annoyed, but your hands were already under their shirt, fingertips dragging up their spine in that way that made them inhale sharply.

“You’re the worst sous-chef you know,” you whispered, mouth close to theirs.

“I’m not here to help,” they breathed. “I’m here to ruin dinner and make out with the chef.”

“Well you’re succeeding.”

Your lips found theirs, slow and certain, like you had all the time in the world. But it didn’t take long before it deepened. Familiar in the way only time and history could make it. It was the kind of kiss that made everything else fade away, the simmering pan, the clatter of utensils, the world beyond the kitchen.

Bella melted into you. Their hands gripped your waist, tugging you closer, anchoring you to them. You tilted your face just the way they liked, guiding them deeper into the kiss, savoring the way they sighed against your mouth like they’d been waiting all day for this.

You broke away just slightly, just enough to breathe and to whisper, “You’re impossible.”

Bella just grinned and kissed along your jaw, down your neck, soft lips and just enough teeth to make your knees wobble.

You backed them gently into the edge of the counter and kissed them again.

This kiss landed harder than the last—hot, urgent, all heat and hunger in that way that always left you dizzy. Bella’s hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you there, like they couldn’t bear even an inch of space between you. When their hips pressed into yours, it knocked the air right out of your lungs, and you had to steady yourself, gripping the counter behind them just to keep standing.

And then....

“Shit,” you gasped, breaking away, breathless and a little dizzy. “The sauce!”

You turned to the stove and grabbed the spoon. Bella laughed, completely unbothered.

“I’d say that was worth some burnt sauce,” they said, not even pretending to be sorry.

You glanced over your shoulder, heart pounding, face hot, hair falling out of its bun. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Oh I know.” Bella said as they stepped back behind you. “But I am begging you to pick me over pasta.”

You turned back to face them and gave a little smirk, Bella was giving you their best pouty face. You kissed their cheek, their jaw, their lips again, “Give me ten minutes.”

Bella pulled back slightly, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’ll survive that long.”

“Try. And if you’re good…”

“I’m never good.” Bella whispered.

“...then you can have seconds.”

Bella picked up the spoon and started to stir, a little too enthusiastically, like if they hurried it along, they could fast-forward to their second helping. You didn’t know why, but watching them stir like that was somehow the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

You smirked, stepping closer. “Nice try,” you murmured, slipping the spoon from their hand and setting it aside.

Then, with a playful grin, you bumped your hip into theirs, nudging them out of the way. Bella stumbled a step, laughing. “Rude.” 

“Go set the table before I jump you again. ”you said, smiling.