Simple pleasure
When Antonio returns from the New World, he brings gold, silver, and jewels but none of them are for Roderich. Instead, he has his men bring in crates of plants from the Americas and he takes his husband’s hands in his own and says, “Tonight, come to the kitchen-I will make you something special.”
When Roderich arrives that evening, Antonio is already in the middle of his work. Roderich takes a seat and listens and watches as the Spaniard dances and sings as he cooks. He watches as Antonio takes a knife and slits what the Austrian can only describe as an aromatic twig before the other explains that it is, “Vanilla.”
Roderich doesn’t mind as he listens to his Antonio sing in low and fluid sounding Spanish. It would never cease to amaze him that the Spaniard had never been properly taught how to sing. A sweet scent fills the room and Roderich’s attention is captured. It was a little known secret but the aristocratic nation had quite the sweet tooth.
He’s surprised by how quickly Antonio is finished. Barely minutes pass an already, he is setting a saucer and cup for his husband. The Austrian reaches out to see what is in the cup; tea or coffee? In the cup, there is only warm milk but he makes no comment and raises it to his lips-
“Not yet, amor,” Antonio laughs, taking Roderich’s hand and guiding it so that he sets the cup back down on the saucer. He takes the moment to kiss his hand and wink, “But soon! I promise!”
Going to the stove, Antonio pours something from a pot into a tea pot and in turn, goes to pour it into Roderich’s cup. The Austrian stares wide eyed as a dark liquid spills from the pot and he watches curiously as Antonio mixes it until the milk is a light brown. When Antonio sets the pot down and sits back, Roderich takes it as a cue to taste.
Carefully, he raises the cup to his lips, blowing on it so that he does not burn himself and takes a sip. His eyes grow wide and he stares at the drink and then at Antonio who smiles back. He shoots Antonio a look as if to say it’s rude to stare when others are eating but he returns his attention back to the sweet drink. “It’s sweet!”
“It is called chocolate.” Antonio explains happily, “It’s the drink of American kings! I thought you would like it.”
Roderich only nods in response, finishing his cup and Antonio proceeds to refill it and prepare the drink again. When they are finished, Antonio puts the dishes away and takes Roderich into his arms, giving light, playful kisses as he guides his husband to bed. Together, the nation of passion and nation of music are practically dancing to their room and though Roderich complains that he is tired, he admits to himself that having Spain back at home is indeed a pleasure for the senses.
When Roderich arrives that evening, Antonio is already in the middle of his work. Roderich takes a seat and listens and watches as the Spaniard dances and sings as he cooks. He watches as Antonio takes a knife and slits what the Austrian can only describe as an aromatic twig before the other explains that it is, “Vanilla.”
Roderich doesn’t mind as he listens to his Antonio sing in low and fluid sounding Spanish. It would never cease to amaze him that the Spaniard had never been properly taught how to sing. A sweet scent fills the room and Roderich’s attention is captured. It was a little known secret but the aristocratic nation had quite the sweet tooth.
He’s surprised by how quickly Antonio is finished. Barely minutes pass an already, he is setting a saucer and cup for his husband. The Austrian reaches out to see what is in the cup; tea or coffee? In the cup, there is only warm milk but he makes no comment and raises it to his lips-
“Not yet, amor,” Antonio laughs, taking Roderich’s hand and guiding it so that he sets the cup back down on the saucer. He takes the moment to kiss his hand and wink, “But soon! I promise!”
Going to the stove, Antonio pours something from a pot into a tea pot and in turn, goes to pour it into Roderich’s cup. The Austrian stares wide eyed as a dark liquid spills from the pot and he watches curiously as Antonio mixes it until the milk is a light brown. When Antonio sets the pot down and sits back, Roderich takes it as a cue to taste.
Carefully, he raises the cup to his lips, blowing on it so that he does not burn himself and takes a sip. His eyes grow wide and he stares at the drink and then at Antonio who smiles back. He shoots Antonio a look as if to say it’s rude to stare when others are eating but he returns his attention back to the sweet drink. “It’s sweet!”
“It is called chocolate.” Antonio explains happily, “It’s the drink of American kings! I thought you would like it.”
Roderich only nods in response, finishing his cup and Antonio proceeds to refill it and prepare the drink again. When they are finished, Antonio puts the dishes away and takes Roderich into his arms, giving light, playful kisses as he guides his husband to bed. Together, the nation of passion and nation of music are practically dancing to their room and though Roderich complains that he is tired, he admits to himself that having Spain back at home is indeed a pleasure for the senses.