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sirius

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In completely unsurprising news, Kieren has discovered that Quidditch (like all the other sports he's attempted) is going to go on a list of failures. He winces as he cradles his sprained wrist against his stomach, walking home and wondering exactly how humiliating it's going to be to have to ask Sirius to repair it for him, what with the whole reason he's injured being that he'd been trying to become more magically inclined.

So to speak, at least. Using his left hand to open the door to their place, he works to get his satchel off his shoulder with twice the work it normally takes, inhaling deeply to try and rehearse his words in his head. Unfortunately, he has the feeling that the best way to do this is to be direct and get straight to the point.

"Sirius?" he calls out, grimacing when he tries to hang the satchel in the closet, the injured wrist twisting a little uncomfortably. "You wouldn't happen to have any healing magical potions on you at the moment, would you?"

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Kieren's not exactly a chef either, he just never saw his Mum use them all like this. She always liked to use one or two pots, something easy and fast. "No, it's good that they're being used, I've just never seen so many at once," he admits, trying to backpedal away from his shock so Sirius doesn't feel bad.

"We always did really easy stuff at home," he admits, finally. "One pot meals, frying up things in a pan. I think it's nice that you went to the extra effort, though."

Sirius isn't honestly certain his effort can be measured by the mess he's made, but he's quite happy to let Kieren believe he's worked very, very hard indeed.

"Well, I can only hope it tastes as good," he remarks with a somewhat rueful smile. "If nothing else, I'd like it to be worth all this. I've been here hours." It's a big of an exaggeration, of course, but he's always had a bit of a flair for the dramatic.

"Oh, hours, is it?" Kieren echoes with a faintly amused smile on his lips, leaning in to press a fond kiss to his cheek, arms wrapped around his waist. "I'm starved," he admits. "The whole sprained wrist after the Quidditch mess didn't exactly leave me with much time to grab something to eat, so you could put barely edible porridge in front of me and I'd go for it."

Nudging at Sirius' side, he prods him to get them dishes. "C'mon, then, let's try this food of yours."

"I would never," Sirius promises, nose wrinkling at the thought of porridge. If nothing else, Sirius has gotten quite proficient with the mobile phone; even if he had managed nothing better than mucky porridge, he would have called for a food order to make up for it.

Though he's had to do much less of that recently given his rather abhorrent lack of funds in this place.

With the gentle push, he reaches into the cupboard to pull down two large bowls before nodding over at Kieren to grab the ladle. "My only real hope in all this is that I'll not need to cast another healing potion before the night is through. At the very least, I used only fresh vegetables and meat I bought just today."

Kieren settles at the table with his bowl, placing a napkin on his lap. He makes a show of twirling his wrist around as he takes up the spoon, beaming as he does, and to show his thanks, he slides his foot under the table to let his bare foot toy with Sirius' ankle.

"I'm sure it's going to taste amazing," he chides. "Don't think so little of yourself," he says, leaning over to have a few spoonfuls. It's rich and aromatic, and, honestly, really tasty. Beaming as he straightens up, he gives Sirius a proud grin.

"Couldn't have asked for anything better."

Kieren makes a bit of a show of being able to his wrist and Sirius can't help but beam with pride. In all the time they've been together now, Kieren's not nearly as impressed by Sirius's magical abilities as he once was. Even bringing Padfoot around hardly garners notice anymore. Just this one little thing he can actually accomplish feels a bit more monumental than it truly is.

"It's not terrible then?" he asks a little skeptically as he carefully swallows a small spoonful of the stuff himself. It's hot to the touch and he blows on it a bit then eats, eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise when he finds that it's truly rather good after all. "I suppose even something tasty could still poison, but this does seem a good start," he admits with a quiet laugh. "Do you like the spices well enough?"

"I promise, I wouldn't be nice and pretend," Kieren allows, because he's more than happy to react in a way that was honest. If it were terrible, he'd make sure they could fix it, but it's really not. Shaking his head, he gives Sirius a terribly fond look. "I'm not much of a spice person myself," he confesses, "but yeah, I really do like it."

"Stop looking shocked," he chides, shaking his head. "It's good."

Kieren's always been rather sparing with his praise, choosing to provide it only when he feels it well deserved. In truth, Sirius likes it that way if only because it makes garnering Kieren's approval that much more rewarding.

"I'm not shocked," he says before adding a bit of a lie. "I knew it would be good. After all, it's not like it can possibly be that difficult, can it? It's just like making potions." Nevermind the fact that Sirius had always struggled a bit with potion.

He gives Kieren's foot a light nudge beneath the table then, a bit more playful. "Eat up then. Can't let any go to waste."

"I'm not sure I want to think of this as a meat potion," he deadpans, lifting up another spoonful of stew to eat, even if the corners of his lips are curving up in amusement at the thought of a meat potion course that Sirius might've taken.

He pushes right back at Sirius' foot, grinning the whole time. "What, am I meant to eat all of this?" he protests, gesturing to the pot. "I know I'm a bit on the lean side, but this is a bit much at one time."

Now that Kieren's said as much, a meat potion does sound a bit strange, though Sirius does wonder a bit why they'd never been taught cooking of all things at Hogwarts. It's not as though it's an entirely unnecessary thing, Muggle or not. Wizards do still need to eat, after all.

He gives Kieren's foot another nudge of his own, a playful little tussle as he grins wider. "What are we to do with the rest if you don't eat it? Should I go around offering it to any who'll take it?"

"Leftovers," Kieren protests with a laugh, still in disbelief sometimes at how little that wizards get taught of the normal world. "We put it in the fridge and then have it for lunch tomorrow or another dinner when neither of us can be fussed to cook or take away." He nudges right back at Sirius' foot, shaking his head.

"Unless you dream of wandering around the sidewalks shoving day old food at people," is his coy retort.

"Oh," Sirius remarks, his nose wrinkling slightly. He can't imagine the stew will taste nearly so good the next day, can't imagine he'll want to eat it. But Kieren seems hardly disgusted by the idea at all.

"Well, we haven't got many neighbors out here," he remarks because there's really only James and he hardly counts. "We could go offer it to the little woodland creatures though." He's joking for the most part, doesn't mean it seriously, but he still can't quite bend his mind around to the idea of eating day-old food himself. "Won't it be cold and a bit slimy?"

"You reheat it, have you really never have leftovers?" Kieren asks, the statement and the question rushing together because he's a little bit in disbelief, marvelling at the idea that leftovers is not a thing that Sirius has never come into contact with before.

"Sirius, we definitely need to get you trying leftovers," he insists, because that seems ridiculous that it didn't happen. "Maybe I can make lunch tomorrow with the leftovers from this," he suggests.

"Should I have?" he replies, his smile faltering a bit when he notices the sound of clear disbelief in Kieren's tone. "I haven't a clue what my mother did with the food when we were done. I always assumed it was either thrown out or the-- or it was otherwise disposed of," he says, quickly catching himself before mentioning Kreacher, still too aware of the sensitivity in that particular subject. "And it was the same at Hogwarts. I've certainly never attempted to simply heat up food that's already been cooked. That does sound terribly unappetizing. You're certain it's sanitary?"

"It's a bit surprising, but I suppose you lived in a world of magic and probably enough money that you never had to have the same thing twice," he admits, which isn't such a bad thing, it's just strange and new to him. "I promise, they're not bad," he vows, squeezing Sirius' hand from over the table.

"They can even be a bit tasty," he promises, trying to infuse warmth and encouragement into his tone. "It's perfectly sanitary, we'll have some tomorrow and I'll prove it."

It's true, he supposes. Though he hadn't thought on it much back home, he's become overwhelmingly aware of his lack of funds since his arrival in this place. Business at the Lamplight manages to pull in some bit of money and he still gets the mysterious stipend every month even while he and Kieren share the little cottage in the woods, but it's nothing like the money he once had.

"Alright," he says, twisting his wrist just a bit to curl his fingers briefly with Kieren's and returning the squeeze. His lips tug into a wide grin. "I'll trust you then. And, in the meantime, you can continue to lavish praise upon me for cooking a delicious meal and healing your broken wrist."

"I'm definitely going to keep giving you praise for that and, I hate to say it, but I'm probably not going to be a magical broom star anytime soon," Kieren says, heavy sarcasm and amusement in his words because he's still a little in disbelief that anyone actually ever was.

Leaning forward over the table, he presses a kiss to Sirius' cheek. "Thank you, for healing me," he says, and means that with every bit of his heart.

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