[Choose Your Own Noah!] Cooking
(By request of doc_shea. Backdated to sometime before they broke up. Lost moment if you will.)
"This looks a little more complicated than grilled cheese." Michaela sat at the counter in Noah's kitchen, her chin in her hand.
He smiled and turned from the stove to look at her. "It's not grilled cheese," he shook his head. "I mean, I know that's your favorite but I do have more skills that you have yet to experience." He watched her brow raise. "No, that wasn't me asking for sex."
"Mmhmm," she chuckled and shook her head. "What are we having then?"
"Ah, well..." he turned back to the stove and took a spoonful of what was in the pan, then brought it over to her. "Try this," he said, leaning over the counter to her.
She looked at the spoon filled with something white. "What is it?"
"Try it."
"I'm not trying it until I know what it is."
"You think I'd kill you?" He laughed and moved the spoon closer to her lips. She rolled her eyes, but met his gaze and opened her mouth. He fed her the spoon, then pulled it away slowly, unable to keep his eyes from her mouth.
Her hand came to her mouth as she swallowed it and licked her lips. "Alfredo?"
"Thought we'd at least stick with the cheese idea," he said softly with a nod.
"It's really good," she nodded.
Her eyes were still on his and he grinned. "Good." Then he leaned in and kissed her gently. He couldn't resist. He closed his eyes, feeling her hand against his cheek. He kissed her softly. Just enough to taste her. He sighed lightly as he pulled away from her lips, but still keeping close. Her hand was still against his cheek and he had lost the nerve to look her in the eye, so he kept his eyes shut for another moment.
"Sauce is bubbling," she said quietly, pulling her hand away.
He nodded, stepping back before opening his eyes. "Right. Right. Sauce." He turned around and moved back to the stove to stir, his free hand moving up to brush his chest lightly. He had momentarily stopped breathing. The air was silent for several minutes until he heard her voice from where she sat behind him.
"So...anything to go with the sauce or are we going to use spoons?"
He grinned - a really bright grin - and kept his eyes to the pot. "I don't know. Thought I'd let you eat it off of me." He laughed softly, knowing that she was rolling her eyes behind his back and shaking her head. His hand reached to the other pot and pulled the lid off. Steam billowed out quickly. "Or pasta, if you'd rather."
447
"This looks a little more complicated than grilled cheese." Michaela sat at the counter in Noah's kitchen, her chin in her hand.
He smiled and turned from the stove to look at her. "It's not grilled cheese," he shook his head. "I mean, I know that's your favorite but I do have more skills that you have yet to experience." He watched her brow raise. "No, that wasn't me asking for sex."
"Mmhmm," she chuckled and shook her head. "What are we having then?"
"Ah, well..." he turned back to the stove and took a spoonful of what was in the pan, then brought it over to her. "Try this," he said, leaning over the counter to her.
She looked at the spoon filled with something white. "What is it?"
"Try it."
"I'm not trying it until I know what it is."
"You think I'd kill you?" He laughed and moved the spoon closer to her lips. She rolled her eyes, but met his gaze and opened her mouth. He fed her the spoon, then pulled it away slowly, unable to keep his eyes from her mouth.
Her hand came to her mouth as she swallowed it and licked her lips. "Alfredo?"
"Thought we'd at least stick with the cheese idea," he said softly with a nod.
"It's really good," she nodded.
Her eyes were still on his and he grinned. "Good." Then he leaned in and kissed her gently. He couldn't resist. He closed his eyes, feeling her hand against his cheek. He kissed her softly. Just enough to taste her. He sighed lightly as he pulled away from her lips, but still keeping close. Her hand was still against his cheek and he had lost the nerve to look her in the eye, so he kept his eyes shut for another moment.
"Sauce is bubbling," she said quietly, pulling her hand away.
He nodded, stepping back before opening his eyes. "Right. Right. Sauce." He turned around and moved back to the stove to stir, his free hand moving up to brush his chest lightly. He had momentarily stopped breathing. The air was silent for several minutes until he heard her voice from where she sat behind him.
"So...anything to go with the sauce or are we going to use spoons?"
He grinned - a really bright grin - and kept his eyes to the pot. "I don't know. Thought I'd let you eat it off of me." He laughed softly, knowing that she was rolling her eyes behind his back and shaking her head. His hand reached to the other pot and pulled the lid off. Steam billowed out quickly. "Or pasta, if you'd rather."
447