AJ / Nick

[ephemera-pop.livejournal.com]

I'd like to read some AJ /Nick, with spice - both literal and metaphorical please.

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[pensnest]

His roomie was drumming an impatient tattoo on the kitchen table with a couple of forks, but looked up eagerly when AJ entered the kitchen and set his shopping down on the counter.

"I thought you'd forgotten!" Nick said, reproachfully.

"Hadda pick up a few things."

Nick looked on interestedly as AJ unpacked. The concept of purchasing actual ingredients was still pretty new to him, and since his knowledge of cooking was effectively zero, AJ's rudimentary skills and ability to interpret a recipe meant that AJ currently enjoyed god-like status in this small household. AJ was kinda sorry that this was about to change. It was cool, being admired, even if it wasn't for his hot bod. But it would also be cool, he reminded himself, to have a roommate who could produce decent meals instead of microwaved frozen crap.

Oddly, Nick was very good at cleaning. AJ had his own theories on why that might be, but since dwelling on the subject usually made him want to go out and throttle someone, he tried not to think about it and just appreciated that he didn't have to clean the toilets himself.

"Hey, what's that?" Nick looked accusingly at the object AJ was holding. "Did you make that before? I thought you were going to show me how to cook."

"This?" AJ set it on the table. "Got it in the store."

"You can buy stuff like that?" Nick looked dumbfounded. "Like, a half pie?"

"A pastry case, yeah. Lots of people don't make their own pastry," AJ explained. "'Sides, it takes too long if you mix it and roll it yourself." Nick might see AJ as a gourmet chef because he wasn't afraid to use a food mixer, but AJ knew his own limitations. The end product of his pastry-making sessions was never worth the time and effort he put into them. "This is for the weekend. I thought you could make pumpkin pie."

"Cool! So what do we make today?"

"Spiced apple cake. I marked the page." AJ nodded towards the ring-binder on the table. It contained his personal collection of recipes, mostly mom's, though his grandma and two or three cousins had made contributions too.

Nick turned eagerly to the recipe while AJ started assembling his ingredients on the counter. "Butter, demerara sugar, flour, cinnamon, apples, baking soda, allspice, eggs—what am I missing, Nick?"

"Um." Nick squinted at the food-smeared page. "That can't be right, it looks like 'claws'."

"Oh, yeah. Cloves."

"Your handwriting sucks, man. And salt. But I thought we were making dessert? Why'd you put salt in dessert?"

AJ looked at him blankly. "I don't know, Nick. You just do. Here, you get to grate the apples. Wash them first."