The Apartment, New York, Sunday

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was in her element. Not only was her boyfriend home – and not just visiting for the day but on actual break – but she was also cooking for him. That's right, their kitchen was a happy mess of various kinds of ingredients and pots and pans with ––

With, well, something cooking in them. It was honestly hard to tell what it was by the smell. Or the ingredients strewn about the counters. Or the way it looked, even. Maybe... maybe it was some kind of stew?

Whatever it was, Isabelle looked happy to be making it.

[ooc: NFB, and expecting a ton of SP, omg.]

Comments

[flickofthewrist]

Flick wasn't a very good cook but he'd been in and out of the kitchen a few times, trying to figure out what she was cooking and he hadn't been able to figure it out.

When he strolled in this time, barefoot and looking rested, he still couldn't figure it out. He opened the fridge to get some water before leaning against it.

"Do you need any help?"

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was beaming at him again. She was barefoot too, for once clad in nothing more extravagant than a simple t-shirt that hung loosely on her slim frame, and some really nice pants.

'Really nice' meaning they hugged her in all the right ways.

"No, but you can try to distract me if you'd like." Okay, she still wanted to get the food done, but did he know how nice it was to see him here like this? "There's not much to do anymore, anyway. Mostly it just needs to sit and boil for a while."

[flickofthewrist]

"Distract you, hmm?" Flick smiled at her and offered her his water. That wasn't much of a distraction but it was a start, wasn't it? "What kind of distractions would you like? Do you wanna go watch television?"

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle shook her head as she took the water from him. "And leave my poor baby alone? No way." Yes, Flick, she just called the food her 'poor baby'. Deal with it. "No. More local distractions. Like the fact that you're even here right now."

[flickofthewrist]

"I thought I was your baby," he said, sticking his lip out in a frown. "And I'm the original baby so I'm here now so doesn't that mean I get some attention to. I just got through a tough few months."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle took a sip of water and smirked at him over the bottle. "Then claim your attention instead of whining at me."

[flickofthewrist]

"I don't get your tender loving care?" he asked, slipping forward and resting an hand on her hip. "No special celebration for me being home?"

[seveninchmotto]

"Not while I'm tenderly and lovingly caring for this meal," Isabelle quipped, setting the water aside as she reached for something from the spice rack. "Afterwards... most likely, yes."

[flickofthewrist]

"This meal's getting all of my attention," he quipped, shaking his head and leaning forward to kiss her shoulder. He would bogart her attention and crowd her personal space if he had to.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle snickered. It didn't sound like she minded much, even if she valiantly continued seasoning the meal while he put distracting moves on her.

"Well, it needs it," she said. "You can wait. You've waited long months already."

[flickofthewrist]

"You're so cruel," he murmured, pressing a line of kisses up her neck and behind her ear. "I need it too."

[seveninchmotto]

"Do you?" she asked, sighing. But she could tilt her head away and give him more space and give the... thing in the pot a stir. "But will you go bad if you don't get it?"

Trick question, the food was already bad and so was he.

[flickofthewrist]

"Baby, I'm already bad," he said and nipped her ear before grinning. "You know that. I know that. Time away hasn't changed that. I'm so bad. I need it because I'm bad."

[seveninchmotto]

"And what makes you think you'll get it any sooner than when I decide it's time?"

She put the spices away again.

[flickofthewrist]

"Because you love me and you want me and you just asked me to distract you," he said, clinging to her and deciding he'd make it hard to do anything in the kitchen. "I love you and I want you too."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle tried to move a little to the side, just for the hell of it. Really needed that one thing over there, see? Super important. "Want me, hmm? I thought you just wanted my attention."

[flickofthewrist]

When she moved, Flick moved with her, shuffling along and still keeping his hold on her. He snickered into her shoulder.

"I want you and your attention. I want the whole package."

[seveninchmotto]

It made Isabelle feel better than she could've explained in words when he did that. It was safety and comfort and something more playful all rolled into one.

"And what if you don't get it? Because it doesn't look like you're getting it right now."

She was still cooking, after all.

[flickofthewrist]

"I could get down on my knees," he mumbled, still clinging to her tightly. "I bet that would get your attention but it'd be my attention you'd want then."

[seveninchmotto]

She laughed. The threw-her-head-back, a little surprised, absolutely delighted kind of laugh. "But it would get my attention," she agreed, glancing back at him and raising an eyebrow. "You're not wrong."

[flickofthewrist]

"But, I don't think I should do that," he said, shaking his head and then tucking his face against her neck. "It might take your attention too far away from the food. Your meal would be ruined."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle sighed like that was oh so disappointing. It wasn't. "Well, now my attention is weakening again.."

[flickofthewrist]

"I could just go sit on the couch and watch football," he pointed out from his comfortable spot against her neck. "Let you cook in peace."

[seveninchmotto]

"You don't look like you're about to do that," she retorted. "Anyway, the food's almost done."

How could she tell? Maybe it was magic.

[flickofthewrist]

"And what if I did do that?" he asked even if he wasn't moving just yet. "Would you be mad?"