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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Christmas Hams
Fandom: Romani Detective original fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,180
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and Andrej’s making dinner for his boys.
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words. My prompt was baked ham which, first made me think of Travis Murphy, but in the end, it led me here.
“Would you get the door, Zayne?” Andrej poked his head out of the kitchen and gave his partner – in so many ways – a pointed look.
Reyes gave a look back before rising to his feet. “We both know who it is,” he said, waving a hand at the front door, “and he damn near lives here. Why does he even bother knocking?”
“Because some people were born with manners, Zayne.” Andrej resisted adding ‘unlike you’ to the end of the statement. It was Christmas Eve after all and the last thing he wanted to do was fight with his already riled up boyfriend. Because that – Reyes being his boyfriend – was enough to start an argument.
Zayne was reluctant to admit to much as far as their budding and overly complicated relationship went. If pressed, he’d say there was ‘something going on’ but nothing more. In private, when it was just the two of them, Reyes had almost admitted to being more than just Zeklos’ partner. But whenever James was present, that all went out the window. Andrej wasn’t sure if Zayne was afraid of pissing James off or if it was a feeling that went deeper than anger. He didn’t know, but he would eventually get to the bottom of it.
“Smells good,” James said, pushing his way into the kitchen, a bottle of wine in hand. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble, baby. Zayne and I both said we’d be fine with pizza and beer.”
Andrej frowned and shook his head. “Our first Christmas together and you want me to feed you pizza?” He sighed, “Americans.”
Laughing, James kissed Andrej’s cheek. “What do we have to eat tonight?”
Smiling, Andrej took the bottle James was holding and stuck it into the tiny wine chiller he’d acquired a few weeks before. He returned to the prep work he’d been doing on the salad before laying out their upcoming meal. “To start with, the baked ham you asked for,” he began.
“Even though the cowboy wanted turkey?” The smile playing across James’ lips was amused more than it was snide. That was a major concession from the redhead.
“Yes,” Andrej replied. “But I found a turkey breast so he can have his tradition, too.” It was only fair after all. They, as a couple, had invited Reyes to have dinner with them. The least they could do was give him the entrée he preferred, even if it meant more cooking for Zeklos.
“So, no whole turkey roasting in the oven,” James asked.
“Not this time,” Andrej agreed. “Maybe next year.”
“Thanksgiving,” James said, nodding. “What else? I see you’re making a salad, which I’m sure we’re all going to need after this.”
“Yes,” he grinned. “That one out there watching football more than anyone. I have pretty much everything the two of you asked for: mashed potatoes, stuffing, asparagus, yeast rolls, cranberries, and more desserts than the three of us will ever be able to eat.”
“Sounds perfect,” James said, snuggling into Zeklos’ side while he chopped tomatoes. “But what about you? What tradition did you bring to tonight’s table?”
Laughing, Andrej dumped the tomato into the salad bowl. “Oh, I’m not sure either of you are ready for a traditional Romanian dinner. The schnitzel or pork chops might be okay, but I can’t begin to imagine what Zayne might say when presented with stuffed cabbage rolls.”
“What?” Rosewood made a face that landed somewhere between disgusted and disbelieving. “You’re joking, right?”
“Not even close,” Andrej said, thankful he’d left out some of the more unusual meals off the list. Things like blood sausage and pork liver tart would make the two Americans run for the hills. “But it’s okay. I left a lot of that behind me when I came here. Tonight, it’s time for new traditions.”
“I like the sound of that,” Reyes said from the kitchen entrance. “But the idea of some food would be even better.”
“Hold your horses,” Zeklos chuckled. “I told you as soon as James got here you could start eating.”
“It’s in the fridge,” the Texan asked.
“It is, dig in you two,” Andrej confirmed. “I’ll finish what I’m doing here and be out in a few minutes.”
Reyes opened the refrigerator and started handing plates to James. “Meat and cheese,” he said, laying a silver platter on Rosewood’s arm. “Some weird looking sausage-like things.”
James flicked a glance at Zeklos, questioning.
“Not that kind of sausage, I promise.” He tried so hard not to grin, but failed miserably. They were both so easy sometimes.
“What kind of sausage,” Zayne asked, looking between them. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. Just as long as it’s the summer sausage it looks like it is, I’m fine. Oh, here are those little pickle things he was talking about.”
“Reyes,” James laughed, balancing the three plates in his hands, “I think that’s enough.”
“He’s right, Zayne. You can come back for the rest.” Zek’s heart warmed when Zayne protested. One thing you could say about the cowboy, he truly had an appetite the size of the state he hailed from. “Don’t forget the crackers.”
“Never,” Reyes replied, grabbing the plate of assorted crackers Zeklos had laid out for them ahead of time. “And thank you,” he said, brushing his lips against Andrej’s cheek.
Both men were long gone by the time Zek managed to whisper, “You’re welcome.”
xx
He dried the last dish and put it into the cupboard with the rest of them. It had taken the better part of the afternoon, but the kitchen was now clean. Well, until one of the other two men in the house decided it was time for dessert. Both James and Zayne had offered to help, but he knew they’d both rather be arguing over who was going to win the football game. And that was fine with Andrej – football, at least the American idea of it – wasn’t his thing. Baseball was okay, basketball moved too fast, but football? It was boring. Given a choice, he’d rather watch soccer or tennis. Or, if he got lucky, hockey. So, in an effort to get out of having to sit between his two men and watch them argue over something like a stupid sporting event, Andrej had gladly accepted the responsibility of taking over the cleanup.
He could hear them in there, however, yelling at the television, shouting at each other, and cheering their respective teams. It would be a bonding experience for both of them, just one more reason Andrej didn’t feel the least bit guilty about sitting it out. Folding the dish towel, he hung it on its little hook and surveyed his handiwork. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough for now. Once they all went home – sometime around Sunday evening – he’d give it a good scrubbing and bring the kitchen back up to his standards. If he tried that tonight, they’d call for an intervention and drag him out by his ankles.
“Hey papi,” Reyes said, letting himself into the kitchen. “I went all the way to Freed’s and stood in line for an hour to get that pie. Think you can feed it to us sometime today?”
“Think you could find yourself some manners, cowboy?” James poked his head over Zayne’s shoulder and smiled at Andrej. “Pie really does sound good though, Andy.”
“Okay, okay,” Andrej said, raising his hands in defeat. “I knew one or the other of you would be around soon, I never thought you’d both ambush me at the same time.”
James pushed past Zayne and moved towards the cupboard, grabbing three dessert plates from their resting place. He set them on the counter next to the pie Zeklos had retrieved from its hiding place. “What kind of pie, Zayne?”
“Dutch apple,” he said, more than a little pride in his words.
“Andy’s favorite,” James supplied, nodding.
“Second favorite,” Reyes corrected while Andrej laughed.
“Wait,” James said, turning to Zeklos. “But you said…”
“He tells everyone that,” Reyes chuckled. “Because he’s afraid if he told someone what his actual favorite was, he’d have to share it.”
“Andy,” James sighed.
“It’s true though,” Andrej defended. “I wind up sharing everything I eat with one or the other of you as it is. I want my pie to myself.”
“Fair enough,” James laughed. “But I’m making a mental note of that for your birthday.”
“Then you’d better also make note –” Reyes began.
“– that I don’t like –” Zeklos interrupted.
“– that nasty ass meringue,” Reyes finished. “See, I pay attention.”
“Whatever,” Andrej said, rolling his eyes. “Get the ice cream out of the freezer, please.”
“Yes,” Reyes shouted, pulling the container of Blue Bell out of the freezer. “You got my vanilla bean. You really do love me.”
As if there was ever any doubt to that bit, Andrej thought. “Of course I did,” he said instead. “James asked for pie, you asked for vanilla bean, and all I asked is that you two not murder each other in my house. So far, we’ve all gotten what we wanted.”
“Well,” James drawled, stealing a glance at Reyes. “There is one little thing –”
“– that the both of us might still want –” Zayne continued.
“– but haven’t exactly gotten yet, either,” Rosewood finished.
Stabbing the ice cream with the scoop, Andrej glared playfully at his two partners. “You two are awful. It’s Christmas Eve, don’t you ever let up?”
“Nope,” Reyes said, shrugging.
“Not a chance,” Rosewood added. “Are you complaining?”
“Not one bit,” he had to admit. “But, pie first?”
“Of course pie first you heathen,” Reyes declared. “Besides, pie now means we can have more pie later. You know, when we’re hungry again?”
“And you think I’m the awful one,” James muttered, shaking his head.
“Okay, I stand corrected. You’re incorrigible, James, but him? He’s awful.”
“But you like it,” Zayne crowed, taking the thick slice of pie from Zeklos. “Admit it.”
He cut into the pie again and levered out a slice for James. Placing it precisely on the plate, he figured it couldn’t hurt to be honest with them all. “You’re right,” he said. “I do like it. And the worse you two get, the more I seem to enjoy it all.”
“Well then, merry freaking Christmas, baby,” Zayne cheered, shoving a forkful of pie into his mouth.
“What he said,” James agreed, taking his pie from Andrej. “You’re not going to have any, Andy?”
Tamping down the inferno stoking to life inside his lower belly, Andrej shook his head. “Not until I find whatever’s left in that bottle of wine. I think I’m going to need it if I’m going to deal with you two for the rest of the night.”
“I’m good with pie,” Reyes laughed, leaving James and Andy in the kitchen.
“Are we really that horrible,” he asked, slicing a piece of pie for Andrej.
“No,” Zeklos admitted, “but you’re both really good at embarrassing me. That is the true reason why I need the wine.”
“You need to loosen up, Andy,” James said. “It’s only going to get worse the longer the three of us are together. This is delicious, by the way.”
“He went to a good bakery,” Zeklos said, pointing at the box. “Go, sit. I’ll be right out.”
“Okay,” James said, nipping at Andrej’s ear before wandering out of the kitchen. “But be warned, there wasn’t much left in that bottle, baby. You’re going to have to deal with us on your own tonight.”
Great. Andrej picked up his fork and cut the point off his pie slice. Chewing, he looked at the cupboard above the stove where he stashed the good stuff – the liquor he had to have his brother ship to him whenever he ran out. No – it’s too early in the day for something like that. It’d have to wait until New Year’s Eve.
He took his plate in hand and followed the well-trodden path from his kitchen to the living room. Zayne sat on the near end of the couch, remote in hand, and was flipping through the stations attempting to find a movie. James, secured in the far end of the couch, was waving his fork in the air, giving Reyes a million reasons why each of his selections wasn’t going to work. Yeah, it seemed like his future was going to be full of these little arguments, but he figured it was better than the loneliness that had filled it before he’d met these two. Taking what had become his designated spot in the middle, he did the unheard of and propped his feet on the coffee table. “Try channel thirteen,” he said. “I think they’re supposed to be showing ‘A Christmas Story’.”
Apparently, that worked for his bookend boyfriends because Reyes switched the channel and Rosewood didn’t object. Perfect. In oh so many ways. Good food, good friends and lovers, and pie. If only it was Key Lime, but… he could live with the apple.
Fandom: Romani Detective original fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,180
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and Andrej’s making dinner for his boys.
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at
1_million_words. My prompt was baked ham which, first made me think of Travis Murphy, but in the end, it led me here.“Would you get the door, Zayne?” Andrej poked his head out of the kitchen and gave his partner – in so many ways – a pointed look.
Reyes gave a look back before rising to his feet. “We both know who it is,” he said, waving a hand at the front door, “and he damn near lives here. Why does he even bother knocking?”
“Because some people were born with manners, Zayne.” Andrej resisted adding ‘unlike you’ to the end of the statement. It was Christmas Eve after all and the last thing he wanted to do was fight with his already riled up boyfriend. Because that – Reyes being his boyfriend – was enough to start an argument.
Zayne was reluctant to admit to much as far as their budding and overly complicated relationship went. If pressed, he’d say there was ‘something going on’ but nothing more. In private, when it was just the two of them, Reyes had almost admitted to being more than just Zeklos’ partner. But whenever James was present, that all went out the window. Andrej wasn’t sure if Zayne was afraid of pissing James off or if it was a feeling that went deeper than anger. He didn’t know, but he would eventually get to the bottom of it.
“Smells good,” James said, pushing his way into the kitchen, a bottle of wine in hand. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble, baby. Zayne and I both said we’d be fine with pizza and beer.”
Andrej frowned and shook his head. “Our first Christmas together and you want me to feed you pizza?” He sighed, “Americans.”
Laughing, James kissed Andrej’s cheek. “What do we have to eat tonight?”
Smiling, Andrej took the bottle James was holding and stuck it into the tiny wine chiller he’d acquired a few weeks before. He returned to the prep work he’d been doing on the salad before laying out their upcoming meal. “To start with, the baked ham you asked for,” he began.
“Even though the cowboy wanted turkey?” The smile playing across James’ lips was amused more than it was snide. That was a major concession from the redhead.
“Yes,” Andrej replied. “But I found a turkey breast so he can have his tradition, too.” It was only fair after all. They, as a couple, had invited Reyes to have dinner with them. The least they could do was give him the entrée he preferred, even if it meant more cooking for Zeklos.
“So, no whole turkey roasting in the oven,” James asked.
“Not this time,” Andrej agreed. “Maybe next year.”
“Thanksgiving,” James said, nodding. “What else? I see you’re making a salad, which I’m sure we’re all going to need after this.”
“Yes,” he grinned. “That one out there watching football more than anyone. I have pretty much everything the two of you asked for: mashed potatoes, stuffing, asparagus, yeast rolls, cranberries, and more desserts than the three of us will ever be able to eat.”
“Sounds perfect,” James said, snuggling into Zeklos’ side while he chopped tomatoes. “But what about you? What tradition did you bring to tonight’s table?”
Laughing, Andrej dumped the tomato into the salad bowl. “Oh, I’m not sure either of you are ready for a traditional Romanian dinner. The schnitzel or pork chops might be okay, but I can’t begin to imagine what Zayne might say when presented with stuffed cabbage rolls.”
“What?” Rosewood made a face that landed somewhere between disgusted and disbelieving. “You’re joking, right?”
“Not even close,” Andrej said, thankful he’d left out some of the more unusual meals off the list. Things like blood sausage and pork liver tart would make the two Americans run for the hills. “But it’s okay. I left a lot of that behind me when I came here. Tonight, it’s time for new traditions.”
“I like the sound of that,” Reyes said from the kitchen entrance. “But the idea of some food would be even better.”
“Hold your horses,” Zeklos chuckled. “I told you as soon as James got here you could start eating.”
“It’s in the fridge,” the Texan asked.
“It is, dig in you two,” Andrej confirmed. “I’ll finish what I’m doing here and be out in a few minutes.”
Reyes opened the refrigerator and started handing plates to James. “Meat and cheese,” he said, laying a silver platter on Rosewood’s arm. “Some weird looking sausage-like things.”
James flicked a glance at Zeklos, questioning.
“Not that kind of sausage, I promise.” He tried so hard not to grin, but failed miserably. They were both so easy sometimes.
“What kind of sausage,” Zayne asked, looking between them. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. Just as long as it’s the summer sausage it looks like it is, I’m fine. Oh, here are those little pickle things he was talking about.”
“Reyes,” James laughed, balancing the three plates in his hands, “I think that’s enough.”
“He’s right, Zayne. You can come back for the rest.” Zek’s heart warmed when Zayne protested. One thing you could say about the cowboy, he truly had an appetite the size of the state he hailed from. “Don’t forget the crackers.”
“Never,” Reyes replied, grabbing the plate of assorted crackers Zeklos had laid out for them ahead of time. “And thank you,” he said, brushing his lips against Andrej’s cheek.
Both men were long gone by the time Zek managed to whisper, “You’re welcome.”
xx
He dried the last dish and put it into the cupboard with the rest of them. It had taken the better part of the afternoon, but the kitchen was now clean. Well, until one of the other two men in the house decided it was time for dessert. Both James and Zayne had offered to help, but he knew they’d both rather be arguing over who was going to win the football game. And that was fine with Andrej – football, at least the American idea of it – wasn’t his thing. Baseball was okay, basketball moved too fast, but football? It was boring. Given a choice, he’d rather watch soccer or tennis. Or, if he got lucky, hockey. So, in an effort to get out of having to sit between his two men and watch them argue over something like a stupid sporting event, Andrej had gladly accepted the responsibility of taking over the cleanup.
He could hear them in there, however, yelling at the television, shouting at each other, and cheering their respective teams. It would be a bonding experience for both of them, just one more reason Andrej didn’t feel the least bit guilty about sitting it out. Folding the dish towel, he hung it on its little hook and surveyed his handiwork. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough for now. Once they all went home – sometime around Sunday evening – he’d give it a good scrubbing and bring the kitchen back up to his standards. If he tried that tonight, they’d call for an intervention and drag him out by his ankles.
“Hey papi,” Reyes said, letting himself into the kitchen. “I went all the way to Freed’s and stood in line for an hour to get that pie. Think you can feed it to us sometime today?”
“Think you could find yourself some manners, cowboy?” James poked his head over Zayne’s shoulder and smiled at Andrej. “Pie really does sound good though, Andy.”
“Okay, okay,” Andrej said, raising his hands in defeat. “I knew one or the other of you would be around soon, I never thought you’d both ambush me at the same time.”
James pushed past Zayne and moved towards the cupboard, grabbing three dessert plates from their resting place. He set them on the counter next to the pie Zeklos had retrieved from its hiding place. “What kind of pie, Zayne?”
“Dutch apple,” he said, more than a little pride in his words.
“Andy’s favorite,” James supplied, nodding.
“Second favorite,” Reyes corrected while Andrej laughed.
“Wait,” James said, turning to Zeklos. “But you said…”
“He tells everyone that,” Reyes chuckled. “Because he’s afraid if he told someone what his actual favorite was, he’d have to share it.”
“Andy,” James sighed.
“It’s true though,” Andrej defended. “I wind up sharing everything I eat with one or the other of you as it is. I want my pie to myself.”
“Fair enough,” James laughed. “But I’m making a mental note of that for your birthday.”
“Then you’d better also make note –” Reyes began.
“– that I don’t like –” Zeklos interrupted.
“– that nasty ass meringue,” Reyes finished. “See, I pay attention.”
“Whatever,” Andrej said, rolling his eyes. “Get the ice cream out of the freezer, please.”
“Yes,” Reyes shouted, pulling the container of Blue Bell out of the freezer. “You got my vanilla bean. You really do love me.”
As if there was ever any doubt to that bit, Andrej thought. “Of course I did,” he said instead. “James asked for pie, you asked for vanilla bean, and all I asked is that you two not murder each other in my house. So far, we’ve all gotten what we wanted.”
“Well,” James drawled, stealing a glance at Reyes. “There is one little thing –”
“– that the both of us might still want –” Zayne continued.
“– but haven’t exactly gotten yet, either,” Rosewood finished.
Stabbing the ice cream with the scoop, Andrej glared playfully at his two partners. “You two are awful. It’s Christmas Eve, don’t you ever let up?”
“Nope,” Reyes said, shrugging.
“Not a chance,” Rosewood added. “Are you complaining?”
“Not one bit,” he had to admit. “But, pie first?”
“Of course pie first you heathen,” Reyes declared. “Besides, pie now means we can have more pie later. You know, when we’re hungry again?”
“And you think I’m the awful one,” James muttered, shaking his head.
“Okay, I stand corrected. You’re incorrigible, James, but him? He’s awful.”
“But you like it,” Zayne crowed, taking the thick slice of pie from Zeklos. “Admit it.”
He cut into the pie again and levered out a slice for James. Placing it precisely on the plate, he figured it couldn’t hurt to be honest with them all. “You’re right,” he said. “I do like it. And the worse you two get, the more I seem to enjoy it all.”
“Well then, merry freaking Christmas, baby,” Zayne cheered, shoving a forkful of pie into his mouth.
“What he said,” James agreed, taking his pie from Andrej. “You’re not going to have any, Andy?”
Tamping down the inferno stoking to life inside his lower belly, Andrej shook his head. “Not until I find whatever’s left in that bottle of wine. I think I’m going to need it if I’m going to deal with you two for the rest of the night.”
“I’m good with pie,” Reyes laughed, leaving James and Andy in the kitchen.
“Are we really that horrible,” he asked, slicing a piece of pie for Andrej.
“No,” Zeklos admitted, “but you’re both really good at embarrassing me. That is the true reason why I need the wine.”
“You need to loosen up, Andy,” James said. “It’s only going to get worse the longer the three of us are together. This is delicious, by the way.”
“He went to a good bakery,” Zeklos said, pointing at the box. “Go, sit. I’ll be right out.”
“Okay,” James said, nipping at Andrej’s ear before wandering out of the kitchen. “But be warned, there wasn’t much left in that bottle, baby. You’re going to have to deal with us on your own tonight.”
Great. Andrej picked up his fork and cut the point off his pie slice. Chewing, he looked at the cupboard above the stove where he stashed the good stuff – the liquor he had to have his brother ship to him whenever he ran out. No – it’s too early in the day for something like that. It’d have to wait until New Year’s Eve.
He took his plate in hand and followed the well-trodden path from his kitchen to the living room. Zayne sat on the near end of the couch, remote in hand, and was flipping through the stations attempting to find a movie. James, secured in the far end of the couch, was waving his fork in the air, giving Reyes a million reasons why each of his selections wasn’t going to work. Yeah, it seemed like his future was going to be full of these little arguments, but he figured it was better than the loneliness that had filled it before he’d met these two. Taking what had become his designated spot in the middle, he did the unheard of and propped his feet on the coffee table. “Try channel thirteen,” he said. “I think they’re supposed to be showing ‘A Christmas Story’.”
Apparently, that worked for his bookend boyfriends because Reyes switched the channel and Rosewood didn’t object. Perfect. In oh so many ways. Good food, good friends and lovers, and pie. If only it was Key Lime, but… he could live with the apple.
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no subject
Date: 2015-12-21 07:27 pm (UTC)They are hilarious together, and it all works so deliciously!
EXCELLENT, my dear! ;-)
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Date: 2015-12-21 08:06 pm (UTC)I never really thought I'd have this much fun with these three, but I really, really am.
THANK YOU!