∞ 7 ∞
Spaghetti Bolognese
Miles watched approvingly as Darren tied the apron over his clothes. With a pleased hum, he dropped a soft kiss to his mouth before turning to the fridge. "Good boy. If you're really brave and do as I say, you'll get a treat later."
That sounded promising. "Does the treat involve you being naked, Sir?"
"If you're good." Miles handed back an onion and a package of hamburger. His posture shifted, standing taller, squaring his broad, well-muscled shoulders. "Now. Start by peeling the dry skin off the onion for me."
"Yes, Sir." That was easy enough, gathering the crumbling skin afterward and throwing it into the compost bucket. "And now, Sir?"
Miles had pulled a can of sliced mushrooms out of the cupboard along with a box of spinach linguine and a jar of spaghetti sauce. He handed Darren a cutting board. "Now chop it up into thin slices."
"You want me to touch your knives?" Darren stared at him in alarm, fully forgetting himself.
Miles raised an eyebrow. "You know how to handle knives, Dare."
"Yeah, in kinky ways. And cutting things like fruit. And steak. With much smaller knives that don't chop off fingers if you do something wrong."
Miles was obviously trying to hold back laughter, shaking his head. "Pet. You'll be fine. Come here, I'll show you." He picked up the knife himself, turning it and holding the back of the blade carefully to offer the handle to him.
Darren took it carefully, getting used to the weight and the balance of it instinctively. "Are you sure I'm not going to kill a small child?" He tried to joke.
"You are not. Even if there were some around." Miles crowded him towards the cutting board, stepping behind him and wrapping his arms around him so he could place both hands over Darren's, warm and secure. He guided him to hold the onion, moving the knife into place. "It's alright, pet. I'm here to guide you. Now, we just cut poles off the onion. Like this. Then we cut it in half on the equator."
The blade cut through the vegetable almost like it was butter. Darren tried not to think about what it would do to an errant finger. Then he had two halves of the onion lying face down on the board. "When do we start crying? Sir?"
"We'll be fine, pet," Miles said with a laugh. "The blade is sharp, and the onion is cold. That cuts down on the amount it stings your eyes. Now just slice it. I know you can do it for me." Miles pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, and despite Darren's nervousness, he felt another rush of arousal.
Maybe cooking was worth it if it meant having Miles guide him like this.
"No getting distracted," Miles said as if hearing his thoughts, guiding him to make a careful, thin slice. They continued, and before long Miles's hands were only a warm comfort on top of his, not guiding at all. Darren's slices weren't quite as thin orneat, but Miles didn't say anything, helping him cut them into smaller chunks afterward. They went into a pot on the stove on medium heat with a bit of oil, and Miles handed him a spatula before turning to the sink to wash the knife and board. "Just stir them slowly, alright? Are you doing okay so far, pet? Still green?"
"I haven't burned anything yet, so I guess so?" Darren replied with a grin, then quickly added, "Master."
"Brat," Miles shot back affectionately, giving his ass another swat.
Darren focused on stirring and not his too-interested arousal, watching the onion turn slowly transparent under the heat. "Sir, why the sudden decision to risk me in your kitchen?"
Miles shrugged, opening a package of hamburger. "I thought it might be fun. At least this way I can be reasonably certain that you'll know how to put together at least one decent meal if I'm ever stuck at work or sick or something." He looked back at him, his smile warm with affection. "And I liked the idea of being the mentor for once."
"We could play like that more, Sir. In or out of the bedroom. If you'd like."
Miles let a hand rest on the small of his back with a hum of consideration. "Maybe. I've been thinking a lot about everything you want to teach me. I know this isn't the same, but... knowing that I'm pleasing you makes it less frightening to take charge. Maybe we can arrange it a bit more. It's fun to plan for you." Miles leaned in to nibble his earlobe. His voice - the gentle, buttery tenor Darren loved so well - dropped to a soft, promising purr. "I liked going shopping for you, pet."
Fuck. Darren bit his lip on a choked whimper. "Sir, if we don't focus on cooking, this traffic light might not stay green until the kids get home."
Miles gave a huffed laugh in response. "God, you're telling me." He cleared his throat, going back to grab the hamburger. "Alright. Cooking. This is extra lean ground beef, by the way. It's slightly more expensive, but you're not paying for all the fat. Much better for you."
Darren nodded, trying to breathe and take mental notes as Miles tipped it into the pot. He started to break up the clump of raw beef with the spatula, mixing it with the onion. "May I make an observation, Master?"
"Speak as you wish. Thank you for asking."
"Maybe eventually I'll be able to cook for you for a change, Sir? Can't believe you've put up with me as long as you have."
Miles chuckled as he threw away the hamburger packaging. Washing his hands, he returned to cuddle up against his back again, his voice warm with good humor. "Well, they do say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Husband."
Darren glanced back at him with a smile. "Is that why you were so keen to cook for me back then? You wanted to serenade me with really excellent homemade food?"
