#homecookedmeal

Characters: Black (referred to as Chiron) x Black Male Reader

Content: Fluff; Romance (set in Atlanta, GA) Word Count: 986

Vacation. You had to force Chiron to take one. "I don't ever wanna risk goin' hungry," he said to you once. But you stressed the importance of rest and breaks. You also had to say to him, "Hellooooo, I have a job, too!" You were the marketing manager at the Children's Museum, and Chiron worked two jobs--bussing tables in the morning and replenishing at night. He was always in survival mode, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But the back aches and the headaches; the falling asleep with clothes on—it was becoming a bit much. Monday was officially his first day of vacation. You wanted him to have as much time to himself as possible, but Monday had to be your day with him. You brought your work day to an early halt and rushed home to be with him. You entered your home to find him sitting on the patio and drinking from a beer bottle. "Hey, baby," you said, as you stepped outside. As you leaned in to kiss him, you saw sadness in his eyes. "Sup," he responded after receiving your peck on the lips. He looked down at his watch. "You're home early." "Yeah, I came to spend some time with you." You sat in the chair across from him and looked out at the blue sky. Then, you looked back at him--muscles bulging through his white tank; the fabric of his blue shorts separated by his wide open legs. "What's got you down today?" you asked. Chiron took a sip, and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Just thinkin'." You expected that response. Getting Chiron to open up was like demanding a flower to blossom in front of you. You didn't push him any further, though. You rose from your seat, kissed his forehead, and walked back into the apartment. Plush tan carpet melted under your shoes as you breezed through the living room and into your cozy kitchen. You searched the refrigerator and freezer for something. Nothing caught your eye. As you considered takeout, you got a better idea.

"I'll be back, baby," you called out toward the balcony. You rushed out of the apartment, and on the way to your car, you frantically scanned your brain. Your train of thought continued in the car. "Fuck, what the hell does he like?" you asked yourself. You started the engine and made your way to Publix. You'd asked him what his favorite food was once before, but in typical Chiron fashion, he just said "Ion got no favorites." You wandered around the grocery store, trying to think of everything that Chiron has ever "to' up", as the old folks say--and you realized that he eats every meal like its last--from ramen to steak. The light bulb went off--maybe you shouldn't think of his "favorite" meal--perhaps tonight was the night to go for "different". You dragged your buggy to the most empty section of the store you could find, and searched Pinterest for recipes--seafood recipes. Miami natives liked seafood, right? You hoped at least Chiron did.

Between shopping and prepping at home, a couple of hours had passed before you'd finally found your groove in the kitchen--salmon sizzled in your cast iron skillet; crab cakes cooked to perfection in your air fryer. You knew green beans would be a great complement to the meal, but you weren't going to settle for the can in your pantry. You and Chiron were going to feast on the FRESH stuff tonight! When you returned home, Chiron was on the sofa watching television, and finally, he'd made his way into the kitchen with a grin.

"What you up in here cookin'?" he asked.

"Dinner."

"What kind of dinner?" he looked over your shoulder and onto the stove. Then, he tugged on the handle of the air fryer, then pushed the door closed again. 

"You in my way, Chiron," you said with a sour tone, but you had a smirk on your face. Chiron tilted his head and lifted the corner of his mouth, revealing a little bit of the gold over his teeth.

"My bad, Chef Ramsey!" he said.

You chuckled, and attended to your food. "Get on out my kitchen, boy." He stared at you with that boyish smirk still painted on his face, but you did not return the look. He kissed you on the cheek, then walked out of the kitchen.

At about six o'clock, you started putting food on your china dishes--garlic butter salmon, crab cakes with homemade aioli, roasted red potatoes, and fresh green beans. You placed the plates on the table with wine glasses and silverware wrapped in napkins--no plastic to be seen tonight. As a finishing touch, you lit a white taper candle in the center of the table, and brought your Bluetooth speakers into the kitchen to play some Miguel from your phone.

"Dinner's ready!" you shouted, as your poured wine into his glass, and reapplied the cork. You sat the bottle on the counter when Chiron sauntered in with a big smile. 

"Have a seat,” you said.

Chiron sat down in his chair and examined the spread with happier eyes. You leaned down, kissed him on the cheek, then sat across from him. The two of you ate, but you barely talked--Chiron was destroying his plate. And you couldn't lie to yourself--you were, too. Chiron finished off his crab cake and nodded. Then he looked up at you.

"You been holdin' back on me," he said. You laughed.

"Just some light work."

Chiron scoffed and laughed. "Okay..."

"Thank you for the compliment, babe," you responded with a sweet smile. “I just never have time to cook like this. Or no one to cook like this for...”

Chiron’s eyes tightened. He looked down to hide his smile, then picked up a potato with his fork. He nodded again.