stykera | MHA #8, Thursday Evening

Entry tags:

mha #8,
summer

MHA #8, Thursday Evening

Stark had suggested a celebration for Summer last night and Summer had latched on to the idea and so Stark had spent the better part of the day putting one together for her. He had a lot to live up to after the surprise he'd arranged for her birthday but this didn't have to be so elaborate. It just had to be something fun. And nice. And surprising. But there was no pressure. (Of course there was pressure. Stark nearly always felt pressure. It was just often internally provided)

Still, he'd gone out for ingredients to make dinner for a dinner recipe he was quite pleased to have found and it was nearly finished and hopefully just the right level of gross.

Dessert was totally finished and waiting to be served later, assuming dinner went well. He'd even gone out and purchased a bottle of something bubbly because that was the sort of thing you drank to celebrate.

Now he just hoped the guest of honor would show up when he expected her to. And, more importantly, that said guest of honor would enjoy her surprise.

[Expecting a certain gross ginger lady but also could be open before her!]

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And if it weren't for the fact that her brows were already lifted...

"You made me a gross dinner?"

Oh, there were....so many different directions that could go, and now Summer was trying to subtly sort of breathe in the air to see what she could pick up on to determine what she needed to prepare herself for, but Ignis Scientia she was not. She was also regarding Stark with a fascinated sort of look, though, too, that excitement now cast in a slightly different light with this revelation.

"Only a little bit gross," Stark said quickly. "I think? I found a recipe and it seemed like something you'd like and I hope you like it but if you don't there's still dessert and I'm sure you'll like that..."

Summer was half-worried that this was going to turn into an endless stream of justifications and doubt-filled explanations, and she did know of a pretty effective way to dam up a stream like that, but she felt she needed one key bit of information before she could determine if that was warrented.

"What is it?"

She was always the one getting to dramatically reveal gross foods, so the thrill of having gross foods revealed to her was...well, she definitely got why people seemed to keep coming back for more.

"Shrimp," Stark told her eagerly. "With chocolate."

He was so pleased with himself. "Come see! It just needs the sauce, I think."

Shrimp was definitely a good place to start, if they were going gross, and chocolate was an excellent next step, and now there was sauce involved?

"Uhhh, yeah," said Summer, laughing a little and looking even more impressed and fascinating, "I'm pretty sure I've got to see this one."

She wasn't sure where she was on actually eating it, buuuut....honestly, just seeing Stark looking so pleased and proud and excited about it was kind of amazing, actually?

Stark nodded and reached for her hand to pull her towards the kitchen.

"I just have to add the sauce. The shrimp didn't take long. It's not that exciting but it's got shrimps and chocolate and it might be gross. But gross seemed like a good way to celebrate you."

Summer happily took that hand and let herself be pulled.

"Are you sure," she asked, "it's not just because you're actually a gross person who really likes gross things?"

But before Stark could answer, Summer stopped abruptly, to try and counter his pull by pulling him toward her to kiss him in a way that was absolutely not--

--Well. Its grossness was probably entirely a matter of perspective and propriety, really.

Stark had planned on protesting that he only liked very specific gross things but then he was being very thoroughly kissed.

In a way he didn't find gross at all, thanks.

"You haven't even seen it yet," he pointed out, grinning foololishly. "Or tasted it. Come on. Chocolate sauce now."

The shrimp were going to end up overcooked. That would Jody add to the grossness.

So, if grossness was the goal here, then Summer was only helping.

She was the expert here, after all.

"I didn't say anything about actually tasting it," she said, feeling that was a very important detail to point out, as she just grinned back and resolved to be good and let Stark finish with this shrimp and chocolate madness.

Probably for the best that she hadn't agreed to taste. It might be a little rubbery before they got to it.

"You wouldn't taste it for me?" Stark teased very gently as he turned away reluctantly to turn off the heat and start drizzling chocolate over the poor unsuspectingshrimp. "I taste things for you all the time."

"Not all the time," Summer countered, and if moving over to the stove and peering over at it to see exactly what this whole thing was going to end up looking like meant having to press up against one side of Stark, then so be it. Especially since it was one thing to talk about being willing to do terrible things to perfectly fine and innocent shrimp for her, but to actually witness it in progress? Well...

It had absolutely no business working for her as much as it was, but there they were.

"I never make you try anything too gross...."

"You like to see me squirm when you do," Stark countered, leaning into her touch a bit.

"What do you think? Going to try it?"

It didn't look terrible but it didn't look particularly appetizing either.

It definitely looked...

Like shrimp that had chocolate on it.

"I like to see you squirm over a lot of things," Summer pointed out, because she couldn't not, grinning faintly as she considered the food in front of them. And then shifted her glance over to Stark.

"Are you going to?"

"I'll try a bite if you will," Stark said. He was even reaching for a fork to spear a shrimp and holding it out to offer that bite.

"And you can make me squirm whenever you like. Especially when you're celebrating your new tyranny."

"Or..." he said, pulling the fork back a little. "We could skip right to dessert. And I bought drinks!"

And it just so happened that Summer had just started to lean in to take a bite of that shrimp on the fork when Stark decided to pull it back, so he was earning himself a nice little glare that lost all of its potency with her grinning like that right underneath it.

"Is the dessert gross, too?" she wondered-slash-accused. "Or the drinks?"

"You'll have to find out," Stark said, fork now dangling between his fingers.

"Dessert is in the refrigerator. You can look for yourself. And the drinks...I have a bottle. In the fridge. But I didn't have the right glasses..."

Summer leaned in a little bit closer to the dangling shrimp, not quite close enough again to take a bite, and her hand lifted to Stark's holding the fork, maybe to just prevent it from dangling right out of his fingers, maybe to impose her tyranny on where it would go next.

"Do you need me to go upstairs and get some?" she offered, though she was pretty sure she had no intention of doing anything like that. "I have plenty of glasses."

Stark's hand stilled under her touch. "We could just use the bottle," he told her. "No need to leave. Please don't leave. You haven't even seen your dessert."

Summer was about to argue that she'd just be going down to her place, she'd be right back, but something about that please don't leave yanked at her chest a little. "Yeah, right?" she asked. "Who needs glasses, anyway?"

And to punctuate the dismissiveness of the whole concept of such unnecessary drinking vessels, she shifted her hand to get a better hold on the the fork to pluck it out of Stark's hand so she could finally pop the chocolate-drizzle shrimp into her mouth, and....

It was...

...definitely chocolate and shrimp and she mostly failed at keeping her face neutral, but the expression she made wasn't necessarily a bad one, either, just sort of...we'll go with unsurprised, but now she was spearing another one onto the fork and then holding it up for Stark.

"Your turn."

Stark looked at the shrimp and leaned forward to bite it off the fork.

"It's...not very good," he said, pulling a face. "A little gross. Too cooked."

But he'd made it just for her!

"Dessert is better. And...sparkly wine."

Sparkling, sparkly. Close enough.

"Definitely not the grossest thing I've ever put in my mouth," Summer agreed, "but pretty far from the best thing, too. I think..."

Was she actually poking the fork back into the pan to stab another one and pop it into her mouth? Yes, yes, she was, and she was chewing it over thoughtfully, before she swallowed to offer her sage-like gross food wisdom.

"I'd add some chili flakes, or something. A little heat to balance the sweet, and why is there garlic?"

It was clearly a rhetorical question, because Summer had forked up another shrimp and was holding it out to Stark again, because, clearly, if she ate a second one, he had to, too.

"I hope dessert is better."

"I've put much grosser things in my mouth," Stark agreed. "And I didn't write the recipe I only cooked it!"

Yes, he was leaning forward to eat that second shrimp, still making a face.

"Dessert is much better. I promise. Not even a little gross. You should look."

"In the fridge," asked Summer, who, oh, look, had another shrimp on the fork and was holding it up to Stark again for him to have with a very sweet and innocent look on her face the whole time, "you said?"

Stark, who was committed to submitting to Summer's tyranny, obediently opened his mouth for another bite of shrimp.

"This does not get better," he said with a soft sigh. "But the cake will. In the fridge. With wine."

By the smile on her face, it was very clear that Summer was very approving of this dutiful submission.

"Oooh," she gushed. "It's cake?"

And now she was pulling away to finally bounce over to the fridge to have a look.

Stark did so love gaining approval. Especially from this source.

"Good surprise so far? It is cake," he confirmed, grinning widely and waiting for her to see for herself.

"Just for you."

And hopefully some for him. It would be rather tragic to only be allowed to eat slightly gross shrimp.

"Hopefully not just for me," said Summer, in an unwitting response to the narrative, with the addition of a cute little over the shoulder pose at the fridge door before throwing it open and having a look.

"Well, that'll make up for chocolate shrimp," she declared, throwing over an impressed look, before reaching in and pulling out the bottle and holding it up questioningly. "And for drinks?"

"For drinks," Stark said, nodding. "With...the wrong glasses." They were mismatched juice glasses he was reaching for. They'd been here when he moved in.

"Still a good surprise? It's strawberry. The cake. And chocolate. Not the wine. The wine isn't strawberry or chocolate but it has bubbles because that's good for celebrating."

And maybe for tyranny?

"Bubbles are good for celebrating," Summer agreed, handing the bottle over to Stark so that she could get the cake. "And so is cake. Not sold on the chocolate shrimp, but it could grow on me!"

"But the shrimp was a little gross," Stark said, smugly. "So it was a surprise."

He was so pleased with himself. Even if it meant he'd had to eat some of the shrimp. He even hummed a little as he opened the bottle to fill the glasses.

"I hope you like the cake. It sounded good. The frosting tasted good when I tried it. Do you want to sit at the table? The couch?"

Take the cake to bed and hope for the best?

"Your baking is always good, Stark," Summer pointed out. "And couch sounds good."

Even if it wasn't as good (and stain-resistant) as hers.

Stark beamed at her. "Thank you. I try. You know I try. And strawberry I thought was good because I know you like that."

And strawberries made him think of her.

"Couch then." He held out a glass to her. "I'll bring 2 slices? Unless you just want forks. It doesn't have to be neat."

Even if this couch was inferior to the one downstairs.

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MHA #8, Thursday Evening

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