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fic_ception2018-12-02 04:44 pm
chlorhexidine) wrote in fic_ception2018-12-02 04:44 pm
Universe - Friendships
Ignis got back from his Sunday shift a little after half past four to find the kitchen in what he could only describe as disarray. In the centre of the storm was Bert, who looked thoroughly overwhelmed. Tinfoil was haphazardly strewn around, as was a chopping board, vegetables, three knives, and some plastic packaging.
“What are you trying to do?” Ignis asked, eyeing the debris left by the miniature and highly localised tornado.
Bert turned to look at him and away from looking perplexed at his phone, and flushed. “I was trying to cook,” he admitted, after a little hesitation.
Ignis bit back the words, 'You could have fooled me'. If he'd been asked to hazard a guess at what Bert was trying to do, he'd have chosen making a mess over cooking. Keeping his thoughts to himself he ran his gaze over the scattered ingredients. “Cook what?”
“Sunday dinner,” Bert confessed, becoming preoccupied with his phone again and wearing a guilty expression, which he soon transferred to the oven that was currently on.
Ignis couldn't help his sigh. He understood why Bert might choose such a thing; after a few weeks away from home, and the traditional Sunday roast his mother served, Ignis was missing it too. Still, he hadn't previously thought Bert to be a complete novice. Bert had reported that he'd cooked in the past, and his current performance was causing Ignis to question what exactly he'd cooked. “What are you struggling with?” he asked, and failed to restrain the, “Aside from all of it?” that followed.
Bert flashed him such an apologetic look that made Ignis instantly regret his snarkiness. “I don't know how to do the potatoes,” he admitted, “or how long I should cook the meat.”
“That really depends on the meat,” Ignis replied. He glanced back towards the kitchen doors. “Where are the others?” Levi was out somewhere; he'd told Ignis not to expect him home until late. When Ignis had pressed to know where he'd be, Levi had simply promised to tell him later.
“Nel and Gladio and Yylfordt and the rest went out for pizza,” he said, softly. “I don't know where Levi is, and,” he hesitated, and Ignis gave him a scrutinising look, “Annie's at a club meet until six and I told her I'd cook dinner for her,” he said in a rush.
Ah. So Bert was overstretching himself to try and impress Annie. Suddenly the sight made a lot more sense. Bert was easily flustered, and if you combined the pressure of cooking something new with the added pressure of trying to impress a girl it was little wonder he'd crumbled. Ignis checked his watch. Twenty to five. Enough time to salvage Bert's attempt, and tend to his own meal.
“Well then,” he said, moving to where he kept his cooking apron and freeing it from the hook. “Do exactly as I say, and we should be able to salvage this.”
The look on Bert's face was best described as relieved dismay.
The benefit of two ovens made the work a little easier. By the time Annie returned at quarter past six, Bert's roast lamb joint was ten minutes from completion, leaving the kitchen smelling tantalisingly of rosemary and cooked meat. Ignis had refused to let him cook the lamb plain, as he'd originally intended, and had sacrificed some fresh rosemary, and a garlic bulb to the cause. “Proper seasoning makes all the difference,” he lectured. The other oven contained the potatoes, which were merrily roasting away, timed, with a little care, to finish just as the meat had done resting, so they could be served as fresh as they came.
Ignis's own reheated beef stew seemed to pale in comparison.
“Smells good,” Annie said, peering into the kitchen.
Bert flushed, and Ignis could see him struggling to find anything to say. Likely, he knew, he was about to tell her that Ignis had done most of the work. “It should be ready in the next half hour,” Ignis said, cutting in before Bert had chance to downplay his involvement. He'd replaced his cooking apron on its hook, confident he could probably leave most of the rest to Bert, since not even Bert could mess up chopping vegetables and then steaming them. Or so Ignis hoped, at any rate. He was in the process of making himself a coffee, and preparing his own much more modest meal on the hob.
“Did you cook it?” Annie asked, looking at Ignis.
There was no point in denying it, Ignis knew. Some of the others practically salivated over what he made for himself some days, just as they did when he and Levi joined forces, and shopping bills. “Two pairs of hands make lighter work,” he answered, deftly, “but I only helped with the prep.”
It was technically true. The rest had been instructing Bert on what to do, and what not to do, and how to time things. Bert would make a fine cook with explicit and detailed instructions taking the decision making out of his hands.
Annie gave Ignis a scrutinising look, and then turned her attention to Bert. “I'm going to shower,” she said.
“All right,” Bert managed to stammer back, his face turning steadily pinker as Annie left. “Thanks Ignis,” he said.
Ignis only smiled at him. “I rather fear you'll have a high bar to meet in future,” he pointed out, giving his stew a stir. It smelled rich, and delicious, but Ignis still found himself wishing it was a good roast beef, with goose fat roasted potatoes, and trimmed carrots and cabbage, and a thick gravy. “Perhaps next week we should join forces from the outset,” he said.
“Yeah,” Bert agreed, with a smile on his face.
Ignis had almost completed eating his stew when Bert's meal finished cooking. “Take the potatoes out,” he advised, over his bowl, “put the vegetables in the colander, and slice the lamb. In that order.”
He watched as Bert did as he was told, and finished off the last few bites of his own food. At least, he thought, Bert would get some privacy with Annie while they ate. Levi still hadn't messaged him to show he was safe, or explain where he was. A club, perhaps, Ignis thought. Levi had been strangely secretive, mentioning nothing of it until that afternoon, and then only to tell Ignis not to worry if he didn't come home.
He'd returned late from whatever he'd been doing on a few nights, but Ignis had presumed him to either be in the library, or undertaking something related to his studies. The implication that he wouldn't be home tonight made Ignis wonder if Levi had a girlfriend, but he dismissed the notion. Levi would have told him about that.
He hoped he would, anyway. Levi was the first person Ignis called a friend, and as much as he liked some of the others, Bert, for example, and Gladio, and Nel, he wasn't as close to them as he felt to Levi. If Levi was a friend, then they were 'mates', perhaps. People with whom Ignis got on well, but didn't feel he could spill his thoughts to.
Levi had picked up on his growing crush on Gladio quickly, and he was the first person to whom Ignis had ever admitted he was gay. He hadn't used the term, and he hadn't gone in depth on the matter, but still, Levi knew. Levi was the only one who knew.
Raucous laughter filled the corridor as the doors opened, and Ignis heard the sound of the others after a few drinks spilling back into the dorm. Apache was the first to tumble into the kitchen, pushed by some weight behind her which turned out to be Nel, closely followed by Yylfordt, with Gladio taking the rear.
“Damn,” Gladio said, as he followed the others in, looking much more sober than the rest. “Something smells good.”
Apache went straight for the lamb Bert was cutting. “Did you make this?”
Bert coloured, and stammered. “Ignis told me what to do.”
Yylfordt followed Apache, taking a deep sniff of the lamb. “Can we have some?”
Bert backed up, moving along the counter and out of the way. He didn't seem to be able to tell them no.
“I doubt there's enough,” Ignis replied, tartly, from the other side of the dining table. “Bert got enough for himself and Annie.”
“Ah, come on,” Yylfordt pressed, “just a bit?”
“Don't be a dick, Yylfordt,” Apache scolded. “He didn't make it for you, he's trying to impress Annie.” There was a slur to her words, and she sounded as if she found this fact both adorable, and hilarious, with perhaps a sprinkling of pity.
“It's their dinner,” Nel added, her hand on Yylfordt's shoulder and pulling him out of the way. “Stop breathing on it.”
Yylfordt gave an unhappy groan, but did as he was told, taking a few steps back, and then moving across the kitchen to take a couple of bottles out of the ever-present case of beer that seemed to have taken up residence on top of the fridge. “I really fucking miss Sunday dinners,” he lamented.
“My mom does the best roast ham,” Gladio agreed, wistfully.
“Yorkshire puddings,” Apache contributed, before taking one of the bottles from Yylfordt and removing the top with her teeth.
“Oh, yeah,” Gladio replied, giving voice to his longing.
“We should cook a Sunday roast together,” Nel said.
“As if we could pull that off,” Apache replied, dismissively, and jabbing a thumb at Bert's lamb to illustrate what she meant.
“We just need the same help Bert got,” Yylfordt said, eyeing Bert as he went back to his lamb and started slicing it once more. Bert's face was flushed pink, and his ears were glowing.
Gladio turned to look at Ignis, and Ignis tried to pretend he hadn't been watching him. “How about it, Iggy? You up for helping us cook a Sunday dinner next week?”
Ignis found himself unable to refuse. He missed Sunday dinners himself, although he'd never been permitted to cook unaccompanied; his mother always made sure she kept dominion over the kitchen, so he never had full creative control. There was also no point in cooking an elaborate, multi-stage meal for just himself, or even for just himself and Levi. Bert was going out of his way to impress, and had overstretched himself. Ignis had no one he wished to impress that much.
Well, he did, but that person wasn't Levi.
“I can help,” he agreed. “If you put some towards I can buy the ingredients, and talk you through the prep?” he offered.
“Sounds great,” Gladio said, flashing Ignis a smile that made his face burn.
“We'll help too,” Apache said.
Ignis found himself less concerned with the assistance of the rest but he gave a nod anyway. “We can work out the details tomorrow,” he said.
Annie appeared at the door, changed, and showered, the ends of her hair slightly damp. She looked over the roving gang of scavengers as if she was waiting for them to do something.
“Come on,” Nel said, grabbing Yylfordt by the shirt and dragging him towards the door. “Let's leave them to eat.”
Apache followed after Yylfordt, but not before giving Annie a knowing grin. They filed out behind her. Gladio was the last to leave, and he paused to give Ignis a smile. “I'll talk to you tomorrow about,” he began, and trailed off, finishing with, “you know.”
Ignis hoped he wasn't blushing as much as it felt he was. “I look forward to it,” he said, and then wondered if that had been the right thing to say.
Gladio responded with another, brighter smile before he left. The door swung closed behind him.
“What did they want?” Annie asked, making her way across the kitchen to Bert.
Bert clammed up. Ignis could see it in his sudden onset of awkward silence, and the way he somehow endeavoured to hide behind himself. “They wanted our food,” he got out, finally.
“I'll leave you two be,” Ignis declared, getting up to deposit his bowl in the sink. He could come back and wash it later. For now, Bert needed some time alone with Annie. He only hoped that Bert would manage to maintain conversation for the duration.
He excused himself to his room. From the muffled chatter, it sounded as if the pizza party had migrated into Gladio's room, but they'd had the good grace to close the door and keep the noise from filling the dorm. It meant that Ignis had a chance to spend his evening studying.
He had an essay on the formation of Parliament to complete for Politics, which meant going right the way back to the Magna Carta to show the beginnings. There were a few chapters in his course texts that covered the necessary part, but the advised reading list contained another ten books. It probably wouldn't be necessary to read them all, he knew, but he didn't want to miss something important.
Perhaps he'd spend some time after his lectures tomorrow in the library. If he found the relevant chapters, he could photocopy them and bring them back. It would be better than trying to carry ten books, and infinitely better than taking those books out of the library and leaving the other students with nothing.
He took his shoes off and made himself comfortable on his bed with his textbook. Ignis loathed the idea of scribbling in them with a highlighter, especially with how much they'd cost, but the campus stationers sold arrow shaped post it notes, and he'd bought a few different colours of those. It filled the same niche when it came to highlighting.
After a couple of hours Ignis put his textbook away and returned to the kitchen. He expected to have to attend to his washing up, but found, much to his surprise, that someone had already washed his pan and dishes for him. Bert, he thought, likely repaying the favour. He'd have to thank him later.
With little else to do he made himself a coffee. His first lecture on Monday was in the afternoon regardless, not that caffeine kept him up any more. He could probably get another hour or so of studying in before he had to turn in for the night. It wasn't as if he slept much past sunrise no matter what time he went to bed.
While the kettle boiled he checked his phone. There was still no message from Levi. Ignis debated sending him a message to check he was all right. On the other hand, if he was on a date, he might not appreciate the interruption.
He was looking at his phone with a half typed out message when the kitchen door opened. “Hey,” said a familiar voice.
Ignis turned to see Gladio. “Hello,” he replied.
Gladio's smile was soft, and he'd removed his shirt at some point. Ignis did his best not to stare, although he fully expected that Gladio paraded around like this specifically for the attention. He carried some empty beer bottles to the recycling box, slotting them in carefully. “So,” Gladio began. Ignis looked at him, forgetting his phone for a moment. “How much of that dinner was your work? Really?”
Ignis smiled, and turned his attention the kettle as it finished boiling and clicked off. “Let's just say that Bert bought the ingredients, but didn't really know what to do with them,” he said. “But don't tell Annie that.”
“You were playing wingman?” Gladio asked.
Ignis poured his hot water into his coffee pot before he looked up. Gladio was resting casually against the countertop, looking thoroughly at ease. “I suppose,” he admitted.
Gladio gave a small laugh in response, which put a self conscious smile on Ignis's face. “I won't tell her,” Gladio promised. “Bert needs all the help he can get.”
Ignis wondered if that statement was unkind, but then, it was also accurate. Bert was chronically shy, and self conscious. He was far from the only one.
“Next time we go out,” Gladio continued, shifting the topic away from Bert, “you should come with us.”
Ignis looked up, catching Gladio's warm brown eyes. In the artificial light of the kitchen they seemed brighter than usual. “I don't know,” he began, “I have essays due, and between those and work--”
“It's one night, Iggy,” Gladio countered, before Ignis had even finished.
Ignis gave a sigh. “I suppose it depends on what you mean by out,” he said. There was out to a pizza place, and a couple of drinks, or there was out to the student's union for rather more than a couple of drinks. Ignis could probably manage the first, but the second didn't really appeal.
“I mean out,” Gladio said. “Have some drinks, meet some girls, hang with the guys, you know?”
“That's not really my scene, Gladio,” Ignis told him. He wasn't one for going out drinking for the sake of drinking. The idea of going out drinking with Gladio wasn't unattractive, but the idea of getting drunk and making a fool of himself was.
The notion of meeting some girls was more unappealing still.
“I know,” Gladio answered. He stepped closer to Ignis, so that Ignis had to concentrate on his brewing coffee. Had it been brewing for long enough? He wasn't sure. He'd lost track of time with the interruption. “But what if we all went somewhere for dinner or something?” he suggested. “I know we've got this idea for Sunday dinner together,” he said, “but let's be real, it'll be you doing most of the work again.”
Ignis bit the inside of his bottom lip. Going out for dinner with Gladio made his stomach flip, even if there was the implication that the others would be coming along too. He had to admit, however, that it was much more appealing than merely going out drinking. “I'm not exactly flush with money,” Ignis admitted, quietly. Admitting that made his skin crawl, a hangover from his upbringing, and parents who were too proud to admit they couldn't afford all the things they tried to have. Knowing, objectively, that admitting to not being well off was his mother's hang up didn't make it any easier for Ignis to do.
“None of us are,” Gladio pointed out. “Well,” he conceded, “Yylfordt is, but none of the rest of us. It'd just be nice to hang with you while you're taking a load off,” Gladio added.
Ignis swallowed. He could feel his cheeks heating up. “I,” he began, “suppose it's worth consideration.” Gladio grinned at him, as if Ignis agreeing to think about it was the best news he'd heard all week. Ignis found the reaction melting his resolve; it wouldn't be so bad to go out to a restaurant, or gastro-pub, or the like, even if it was just once. “But for what it's worth,” he added, “I enjoy cooking for others.”
Gladio gave an easy shrug. “Doesn't mean you have to do it all the time.”
“I suppose not,” Ignis admitted.
Gladio lingered there a moment longer, and Ignis found himself unable to find anything else to say, but also not wanting to leave because Gladio was there. After a few seconds that seemed to drag on Gladio declared, “I'll see you tomorrow, Iggy. I've got a book you might be interested in when I've finished with it.” His hand fell on Ignis's shoulder, and Ignis felt himself jump at the contact.
“Thank you,” he said, as Gladio's hand slipped from his shoulder again, and Gladio moved away. “I look forward to it. Good night.”
“Sleep tight,” Gladio replied. Then the kitchen door swung shut behind him.
Ignis took a moment to breathe. His nerves were jangling embarrassingly after such a short conversation, and he needed the second to gather himself.
He checked his phone again. There was still nothing from Levi, and he deleted the half typed out message to him. Then he took his coffee to his room to try and forget about Gladio wanting to take him out to relax in favour of the political history of the UK Parliament.
The next morning, Ignis awoke to a text message from Levi: “Message me when you're up.” It had come in a little past midnight, when Ignis had been dead to the world.
The clock now read ten past six. Despite Levi's request, it was probably too early for him to disturb his friend just yet, so instead Ignis opted to take a shower, and make his first coffee of the day before replying.
There were two bathrooms in the dorm, and after the first two weeks, they had ceased to be divided along gender lines. Yylfordt, Apache, and Gladio had been relegated to the use of one of the bathrooms. Nel, Bert, Levi, and Annie had use of either, although Ignis and Levi made exclusive use of the one the other three were banned from using.
Between the toothpaste speckles and tendency to leave hair in the plughole, and shower tray, and, in one unfortunate case, at Ignis's eye level on the shower curtain, an incident that Gladio had owned up to and hastily explained was probably from his armpit, not from where it looked like, a dorm vote had been implemented. One bathroom became designated the 'messy bathroom' and one the 'nice bathroom'. Access to the nice bathroom could be revoked by popular vote of the remaining users.
Apache had been relegated to the messy bathroom shortly after this rule had come into play. With the absence of her make up stains at the sink, the bathroom the rest of them used was so far holding up well under the cleaning rota. Ignis hadn't looked into the designated messy bathroom since, and honestly feared doing so.
He showered, cleaned his teeth, rinsed the shower down and cleaned the sink for good measure, and then made his way to the kitchen for his coffee. His hair hung damp and flat against his head, but it would dry quickly as it always did.
Only then did he pull his phone out to message Levi. “I'm up.”
A couple of minutes later one of the bedroom doors opened, closed, and then Levi made his way into the kitchen. “Good morning!” Ignis greeted, a little too cheery for the time of day.
Levi squinted at him unhappily. “Do you have to be such a morning person?”
Ignis restrained his smile. Levi was regularly grumpy without his tea, a situation which Ignis had been told was not dissimilar to his own. Supposedly, he could get quite catty before his first coffee. “The kettle's just boiled,” he said, helpfully.
Levi grunted and made his way over to it, pulling out his teapot and fine china cup from the cupboard. Ignis waited, watching as Levi scalded the pot before adding his tea-loaded infuser, and then pouring boiling water over it. He brought the pot, and teacup, over to the table.
“So?” Ignis asked, waiting for Levi to do as he'd promised, and explain his whereabouts. Levi wasn't the best conversationalist first thing in the morning, but Ignis had still been waiting for this conversation. He hoped it wouldn't be like pulling teeth, despite Levi's pre-caffeine grouch.
To Ignis's surprise, Levi smiled. It was something he did rarely at the best of times, let alone in the morning, and it was paired with the words, “I was on a date.”
Ignis found himself dumbstruck. He'd wondered if it was a possibility, especially when he'd added Levi's regular evening outings to his late night last night, but... If he honestly tried to picture someone in the dorm dating, Levi wouldn't have been the first person he slotted into that picture. “With who?”
Levi shook his head. “Not telling you that bit yet,” he answered. “It might not get serious enough.”
That, at least, Ignis could respect. If the relationship was a mere fledgling it might cease to be a relationship in short order. “Was it your first date?” he checked.
“No,” Levi answered. He tugged his teacup nearer, dragging it in front of him. “Just the first one that involved getting dressed for it.”
Ignis made an uncertain noise, his brow furrowing.
“Dressed up. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Ignis laughed at that. Levi seemed strangely relaxed to say he hadn't had a sip of tea yet, but he still looked exhausted. “How late did you get back?” he asked. The message had reached Ignis after midnight, so Levi couldn't have slept more than six hours, and knowing Levi, probably less. He went to bed after Ignis, and usually rose at around the same time. Ignis wasn't entirely convinced he actually slept.
“About half twelve,” Levi answered.
Ignis picked up his coffee in both hands and rested his elbows on the table. “So,” he pushed, “do you think it went well?”
Levi poured his tea, carefully and methodically. “Pretty well,” he answered. “I got laid, anyway.”
Ignis froze. He didn't know much about Levi's sex life, or lack thereof, barring what had come out during truth or dare. He wasn't sure sure if Levi was telling him because getting laid was the expected end result of a good date, or because it was significant that he got laid. “I suppose that counts as a good outcome,” he conceded, and then realised a second too late how much of an awkward pun that was.
Levi's grey eyes met and locked with Ignis's, non-verbally scolding him for the awful pun. When Levi had finished pouring his tea and set the pot back down he answered, “It was pretty good.”
Ignis bowed his head. Here was Levi, finding someone to date, and last night Bert had actually been making some positive progress in the direction of acting like a functioning human being around Annie, and what had Ignis achieved? A raging crush on someone unattainable, and only confessing his sexuality to Levi. “I'm happy for you,” he said, pushing the bubble of inadequacy topped with jealousy down in his chest.
“Thanks,” Levi answered, picking up his tea and taking a sip. “Next time, I'll send you a picture of the cat,” he added. “It's huge.”
“Cat?” Ignis asked. “You went to their home?” A local then, he thought, to have a home and a cat. That was interesting.
“Well we didn't fuck in a back alley, Ignis,” Levi retorted. “That has to wait until at least the fifth date.”
Ignis gave an exasperated sigh. He was reasonably sure Levi was being facetious about waiting until the fifth date, reasonably sure only because Levi could be something of a dark horse, but he certainly hadn't expected Levi to end up at someone's home on the first serious date. Although, given that they'd slept together, Ignis supposed there were little other places to have done that. “I didn't mean it like that,” he defended. “It just seems like a big step to invite someone back with you.”
Levi nodded and grunted, taking another sip of his tea. “It wasn't that big a step,” he said. “We've met a few times, we both knew where last night was going.”
“I suppose,” Ignis conceded, reluctantly. If it had been himself he'd have viewed it differently. Perhaps Levi was more accustomed to moving relationships up the required gears to become sexual and didn't consider it a big step. “Where did you meet?”
Levi took another drink of his tea. “Ebony,” he answered.
Ignis stared at him. “Levi!”
“What?” Levi asked, throwing Ignis a look of feigned innocence, or perhaps genuine perplexity. Ignis wasn't entirely sure.
“You met someone where I work?” Ignis asked. That begged the question of when, and where Ignis had been. Levi was a regular on weekend afternoons, although Ignis wished he'd stop taking things from the PIF board. He'd bought things a few times, at least while Ignis was there, but Ignis had also spotted his name in the till drawer at the start of a shift several times before now.
“Is that a problem?” Levi asked. “I didn't know I was only allowed to talk to you in there.”
“I've never seen you meet someone else,” Ignis pointed out. “Have you been hiding it from me?”
Levi shook his head. “They don't spend much time on campus at weekends,” Levi replied, a little too reasonably.
Ignis processed this bit of information. It made sense, if the person Levi was seeing lived in the city, or nearby area. They were settled enough to have an animal, so they weren't in student housing. Perhaps they worked on campus, as a librarian, or in one of the many onsite shops. Or they could be someone pursuing a postgraduate degree that entailed work placements, such as teaching, or nursing. “Are they older?” he asked.
Levi glanced at him, and then gave a simple nod, confirming Ignis's suspicion.
Likely a postgrad student then, Ignis thought. Levi himself was older than the rest of the first years, like Ignis. He was already twenty one, he'd said; it had been a pre-requisite of his entry, since he'd come to university minus a college education. Ignis had been surprised to learn it, at first, but the thought of Levi, already older than the rest of them, dating a twenty four or twenty five year old postgrad student was less uncomfortable than it could have been.
“Well,” he said, “if you're happy, then that's all that matters.”
Levi flashed him another one of those smiles that was rare, but genuine, and made him look younger than usual. “I'll hold you to that,” he said.
The following Sunday, Ignis left very specific instructions with Bert about what time to put the beef joint into the oven. He'd impressed the importance on Bert mostly because he knew Bert would do as he was instructed, and would, in fact, fret about it until he had. The matter of seasoning the joint had been left to Levi's fastidious care.
Everyone had contributed to the shopping list for their Sunday dinner. There had been a vote on the meat, and the preferred vegetables, but yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes were non-negotiable with the meal, at least for now. If Ignis had been able to do as he'd liked, he'd have pressed for a good roast ham, but that was probably too fiddly to entrust to Bert, and Levi had admitted he wasn't sure about the best way to cook a ham, so Ignis had accepted the slim majority winner that was beef.
He and Levi had gone shopping with the money on Friday evening. If it was a success, then a tin was going to live on the kitchen table for group meals. Perhaps it would be for Sunday dinner, or perhaps, Nel had pointed out, they could use it to treat themselves to a night out if people weren't going to be around on Sunday.
Ignis had found a butcher, and got a nice joint of beef for rather less than one at a supermarket would cost. Unfortunately greengrocers were a rarity these days, so they'd ended up in a supermarket anyway for the vegetables and potatoes. There was a market on Wednesday, but that might be cutting it fine when it came to freshness by the time anything bought from there came to be used.
Ignis had enjoyed shopping with Levi. They shared some meals, and their food budget some days anyway; it was much more economical to feed two people than it was to attempt to feed one, but that wasn't the same as buying everything they needed for what was, really, a large family meal.
“Cabbage and broccoli, do you think?” he'd asked, poring over the vegetable display and considering honey glazed parsnips into the bargain.
Levi had huffed, softly. “How many of them do you think will leave their vegetables on the plate anyway?”
Ignis wished he had a counterargument, but Levi had a point. “Yylfordt, at least,” he answered. “What did you have growing up?” Ignis asked, picking up a swede which would do quite well for mash, and might at least trick Yylfordt into consuming something by way of vegetable.
The lack of answer dragged on a few seconds too long, and Ignis looked at Levi when he felt the weight of something being put into his basket. It was a bag of carrots. “Sunday wasn't really a family day for us.”
Ignis instantly felt guilty. “Sorry,” he said. Levi shrugged, as if Ignis's apology meant even less than his presumption. “Sunday dinner is something my mother always insists on,” Ignis said. “Church, Sunday dinner, and then antiques roadshow,” he elaborated. “It's a ritual.”
Ignis put a fresh head of cabbage into the basket before he turned his attention to the broccoli. “Didn't take you for a bible thumper,” Levi commented.
“I'm not,” Ignis answered, “but it's easier to go than argue.”
Levi's acknowledging murmur came just before Levi stopped by Ignis's side, “So this'll be my first Sunday dinner,” he said. Ignis glanced down as a wry smirk flicked across Levi's mouth. “No pressure.”
Being at work meant that Ignis couldn't really cook the entire thing himself, but he'd done the best he could with the instructions he'd left for Bert. He'd left a list, with step by step, clear instructions, right down to adding salt, and exact times and temperatures for Bert to use. With Levi's back up, Ignis had little other choice but to trust that his instructions would be followed.
When he arrived home from work, one particularly displeasing encounter with a tricky customer still ringing in his head, Ignis was pleasantly satisfied to find everything appeared to be in hand. The kitchen smelled of roasted beef and rosemary, and Bert was busily tending to a pot on the hob, with Levi stood nearby, arms folded in quiet adjudication.
Ignis's eyes fell on the dining table. It had been set for eight, with sparkling silverware and wine glasses at each place. “Who--?” he began.
“Nel and Gladio,” Bert answered, looking over his shoulder at Ignis.
“They got wine, too,” came a voice. Ignis looked over at the lounge area again to spot Annie sunk down into one of the chairs with a textbook open across her lap.
Ignis tilted his head. “No Muay Thai tonight?” he enquired. Annie usually didn't return until nearer seven.
“My first essay deadline is Friday,” she answered, her voice dull and uninterested. Ignis kept watching her, and Annie resolutely refused to look up. While it was plausible that she'd blown off training to study, it seemed unlikely that she'd do so with her essay deadline nearly a week away. The alternative, of course, was that Annie had wanted to be part of the dinner preparations, instead of just walking into it.
“Of course,” he replied, giving the table one last look and feeling an upswelling of happiness at the sight of it. For all he disliked the ritual of Sundays at home, he had been missing it, and having a proper Sunday dinner, with a properly set table was exactly what he longed for.
“How are the potatoes coming?” he asked, leaving the dining table to come and inspect Bert's handiwork. He insinuated himself between Bert and the oven without doing anything so crass as nudge Bert aside; Bert gave way to him like the sea to a boat's prow.
“Nearly done,” Levi answered.
Ignis picked up a knife and prodded one of the potatoes with it. “So they are,” he agreed, and turned to Bert. “Well done.”
Bert flushed pink, but his shy smile lit his face up more than the glow of his skin. “He didn't do it all alone,” Levi pointed out, sounding affronted.
“I know,” Ignis replied, turning his attention to Levi and giving him a slightly knowing look. Levi didn't need to be congratulated on a job well done as much as Bert did because Levi wasn't the type to get so nervous he panicked and forgot how to boil water. “And thank you,” he added, meaningfully. “Is the oil heated?”
“Yeah,” Levi answered, clearly mollified, “and the batter's ready to go.”
“Well then,” Ignis said, turning the cuffs of his sleeves up. “Potatoes or yorkshires?”
Levi opted for the potatoes. He'd started them, albeit with Bert, and he was going to finish them. The beef dripping had been another purchase from the butcher, and it paid off. Levi took care to drain, fluff, and then carefully roll the potatoes in the hot fat while Ignis worked quickly to pour batter into the muffin tins filled with the stuff and return it to the oven before either the oven cooled, or something got spilled.
Then it was a simple matter of waiting. Levi stayed in the kitchen to keep an eye on things and prepare the vegetables. The beef was left to rest on the side, carefully covered in loose foil so it could retain its tenderness. If Bert had done precisely as instructed, the beef should be juicy, and faintly pink.
Ignis took the opportunity to have a quick shower. As much as he liked the smell of coffee, one could have too much of a good thing. When he emerged, dressed once more in a soft cotton shirt and plain black trousers that didn't smell of coffee shop, or the impromptu bath he'd taken in latte thanks to that one customer, he nearly walked into Apache.
“Apologies,” he said, taking a step back and drawing the towel down from his still wet hair.
“It's fine,” Apache grunted, than she seemed to second guess herself. “Is,” she began, more softly, “dinner nearly ready?”
Ignis glanced down at his watch. Watches were archaic these days, but he'd worn one since he was a child and he didn't feel dressed without one, just as he felt naked without his glasses. “We should be plating up in ten minutes,” he answered.
“Cool,” Apache answered.
Ignis took that for the end of the conversation and began to head for his bedroom when Apache spoke up again. “You know, you can ask me to do some shit next week.” Ignis stopped and turned to look at her, to find Apache looking sincere. “If you want?” she added. “I don't mind.”
Ignis felt the smile pulling at his cheeks, and he gave Apache a nod. “I'm sure I'll have a task or two for you,” he told her.
Apache smiled so warmly that it took away the grumpy severity in her face. “Great,” she said.
She was remarkably pretty when she smiled, Ignis found himself thinking. It was a pity she didn't do it more often, but then, perhaps she did and Ignis simply hadn't been around. Apache wasn't one he'd made the effort to get to know. “I'll see you in a few moments,” he said.
The others had been waiting by the time he got back in the kitchen. Yylfordt, Nel, Apache, and Annie were chatting at the table while Gladio poured glasses of wine. Yylfordt, Ignis noted, opted for a bottle of beer instead, but Gladio offered round a solid red that would complement the beef nicely. He wondered if Gladio already knew about how best to pair wine with meat, or whether he'd looked it up. In either case he was rather impressed.
The beef came out beautifully, too. Bert had blushed at the praise, trying to deflect compliments onto Ignis's instruction, and Levi's guidance despite Ignis's assertion that while the instruction had been his, the work had been Bert's own. The yorkshire puddings, for the most part, rose exactly as they were meant to. Ignis took the least successful of the batch for himself and made a note that the temperature in the oven must be slightly uneven. Next time he'd have to do things in two, smaller batches instead.
At the end of the meal Gladio groaned, declaring himself stuffed and rubbing his stomach appreciatively. “My compliments to the chefs,” he said, arching back in his seat with a stretch, and then draining the last of his wine.
“You know what we need next time?” Apache began, mopping up a stripe of gravy with a slice of bread. She didn't wait for anyone to posit their answers. “Pudding. Jam roly poly and custard.”
Nel gave a sound of longing. “That's how the fresher's fifteen happens, you know,” she said.
“The what?” Gladio asked.
“First years gain weight,” Annie answered, her voice quiet, but firm. “Because they live on ready meals, or comfort eat.”
Yylfordt stretched his arms and arched his back, mirroring Gladio. “Well that wasn't a ready meal,” he pointed out, snatching his bottle of beer off the table as he finished his stretch and brought his arms back around. “I think we'll be okay with these guys around.”
“We're not cooking for you every day,” Levi replied. Contrary to the expectations of all but Ignis, Levi had turned out to have pretty good table manners. He'd carefully folded his knife and fork together and placed them on his plate when he was done, and he hadn't rested his elbows on the table once while he was eating. Ignis had noticed it the first time he'd eaten with Levi, and it had stood out because it contrasted so sharply with his London accent.
“No,” Nel agreed. “It would be nice to make this a weekly tradition, but I don't think it's fair to have the same people cook every time.”
“I don't mind cooking,” Ignis said, quietly.
“That's not the same as us expecting you to do it,” Gladio said, flashing Ignis a warm smile that killed any protest.
“Exactly,” Nel agreed. “So we were thinking,” she continued, “if everyone agrees, we'll put a kitty together. I know not everyone can put in as much as others-” Levi's derisive snort punctuated the sentence “-but if we put in what we can afford, and then if we've got enough money in there one week, we'll go out instead, and give the chefs a break.”
Ignis kept his eyes on Gladio as Nel spoke, caught in his smile. The 'we' was obviously him and Nel, judging by the last conversation he'd had with Gladio on the matter. Still, Bert seemed enthusiastic enough, and while Apache and Yylfordt were non-committal, they didn't make any objections.
“I suppose it would be nice to treat ourselves,” he agreed.
“That's settled then,” Gladio declared. “We'll put a tin on the side tomorrow.”
Ignis put in his tips that week, and didn't really expect to find there was a lot of money in the tin by the following Friday. He was as surprised as Levi to find that the tin contained nearly thirty pounds when they came to check it. It wasn't enough for them to go out to a restaurant, but it was enough for them to do a big Sunday dinner again, plus dessert, and have change to spare.
Levi came into the kitchen on Saturday night to find Ignis toasting oats and zesting a lemon. “Starting already?” he asked.
Ignis turned and found himself staring. Levi was dressed in a pressed white shirt with a black tie, and black trousers. They accentuated his slender frame, even if they didn't do much for his height. “If I prepare it now, we can put it straight in the oven when dinner is served tomorrow,” he answered, making himself look away to continue zesting the lemon. “You look nice,” he added, without turning back.
The compliment was met with silence, and Ignis didn't look back around in case he caught Levi in a moment of self consciousness. “Another date?” he asked, setting the lemon to one side and picking up the stray bits of rind that had escaped the dish with his fingertips.
“Yeah,” Levi answered, sounding a little awkward about it. “I won't be back tonight,” he added, “so don't go worrying about me.”
Ignis smiled into his own chest and retrieved his spoon. “I won't,” he answered, bending down to open the oven door and give the oats a stir so they could toast evenly on both sides. “You'll be back tomorrow, won't you?” he asked, standing back up again as he closed the oven door and gave Levi another look.
“Yeah,” Levi answered, “we're not that far in that I'm staying the weekend yet.”
“Just checking,” Ignis replied, with a soft smile. “If you don't come back tomorrow, I'll be sure to call the police.”
Levi gave a snort, and approached the oven. “I thought you were doing apple crumble?” he asked.
“I am,” Ignis answered, “but with a flapjack topping.” He'd wanted to make a jam roly poly for Apache, but the recipe involved a little more work than he was able to put in when he wouldn't be getting back until around half four. By then the cooking was getting into full swing. Perhaps next week, he'd decided, and he'd recruit Apache to help make it. This week she was volunteering on meat cooking duty, and Bert had been assigned to the vegetables.
Levi shook his head. “Why are you doing politics?” he asked. “You obviously want to be a chef.”
Ignis gave a laugh and began to heat up a pan on the stove. “I don't think I'm worthy of that,” he replied, glancing sidelong at Levi. “I enjoy cooking, that's all.”
Levi hummed sceptically. “I enjoy cooking,” he pointed out, “but I don't go out of my way to do it for others.”
Ignis could smell the oats from the oven, indicating they'd toasted for long enough. He bent down to pull them out and switch the oven off. “This is the first time I've had the freedom to do what I like in the kitchen,” he said, tipping the oats into a bowl and then scraping the lemon zest in with them and giving it another stir. “I'm just taking advantage.”
Levi murmured wordlessly. “I'll see you tomorrow anyway,” he said, moving away from the counter.
“Should I wish you luck?” Ignis asked, turning away from the oven to watch Levi retreat to the door.
Levi gave a short laugh. “Too late,” he answered, “I already got lucky.”
Ignis smiled at that as the door closed behind Levi. At least, from the sound of it, Levi was happy. He wondered how long it would be before Levi introduced him to his date.
On Sunday afternoon Levi came into Ebony. A number of regulars had been in already, including Professor Leonis, whom Ignis had learned was Gladio's business studies lecturer. He was an authoritative looking man who was unfailingly polite to Ignis and the other staff, and who, Gladio had insisted, was the strictest lecturer on campus. He wasn't usually in on Sundays, but often came for a morning coffee on Saturdays when he kept his offices open for any students that wanted help with their essays and couldn't make it during usual office hours.
Ignis liked him. He'd come in following the late morning hangover-cure seeking zombie crowd and ordered a sandwich and a coffee and sat in. A short while later he'd been joined by Professor Smith; Ignis's history lecturer, who had ordered a latte and a cake. Ignis was getting better at latte art at least and had progressed onto rosettas, so he no longer had to draw hearts on the top of his professor's coffee.
Roughly half an hour after Professor Smith had come in, Levi walked into the shop. “Afternoon,” Ignis said. Levi was still wearing the clothes he'd had on last night, although they looked slightly less pristine. “Tea?” he asked.
“Thanks,” Levi answered.
“Have you just got back?” Ignis asked, as he prepared a tray, and teapot.
Levi gave him a thoroughly flat look. “No,” he responded, the sarcasm dripping from his tone, “these are the only clothes I own now.”
Ignis raised an eyebrow, and tapped his glasses a fraction higher up his nose. “It's a little later than I'd expected, that's all,” he defended. Mid-afternoon was not when Ignis would have thought Levi would be returning home, let alone that he'd have stopped for a tea first. “I take it the date went well?”
Levi shrugged one shoulder, but he couldn't hide the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth that belied the smile trying to make its way across his face. “Pretty well, yeah,” he said. “Are you due a break?”
Ignis glanced at his watch. He didn't really get a break in his Sunday shift, with it only being four hours, but it was quiet, and Aranea was forgiving enough to let smoking staff grab a couple of cigarette breaks when it was like this. “Let me check with Jesse,” he said. He could always stay behind an extra fifteen minutes instead to make the time up that way.
Jesse turned out to be quite amenable to that idea. Midterm Sundays were quiet, and they tended to close down half the shop and give it a thorough cleaning after four because it reduced the amount of time closing up took later. If Ignis was willing to stick behind and scrub the tables before he went then Jesse didn't mind him taking a quick break. It would mean getting home to help with the cooking a little later, but fifteen minutes wouldn't result in any disasters.
Ignis made himself a coffee from the board before he went and joined Levi at the table, making sure to fold his apron down so he looked less like an employee. “So,” he began, sliding into the booth opposite Levi. Professors Smith and Leonis were a couple of booths back, and their conversation was muted from here, indicating Levi and Ignis had the same amount of privacy. “How did it go?”
Levi gave a one shouldered shrug as he flicked through his phone. “Pretty good,” he said. “We're going out again Wednesday.”
Ignis picked up his coffee. The crema on top swirled, and he inhaled the scent of fresh coffee. He was surrounded by it for hours on end, here, and it lost a little of its lustre as a result, but he still enjoyed sitting down with a good cup of strong black coffee and savouring it. “Things are starting to get serious?” he asked.
Levi glanced up from his phone to catch Ignis's eye. “It's not like we jumped into bed together straight away. I don't know if I'd call it serious yet.”
Ignis took a sip of his coffee and mulled that one over. In his position, well, jumping into bed together would be the indication that it was serious. Serious enough, at least, but then, he'd been brought up as a strict Catholic. Levi, who had some experience before getting to university, didn't have that to hold him back. Maybe it was less of a big deal when you'd done it before? “You seemed happy last night,” he pointed out, smiling into his cup.
Levi stopped flicking through his phone and slid the handset across the table. On the screen was a picture of what appeared to be Levi's lap, being thoroughly dominated by a gigantic, seal-pointed mass of fur with blue eyes.
“That's not a cat,” Ignis said, “that's a cloud with a face.”
“It's a heavy cloud,” Levi replied. “He's called Princess.”
Ignis paused. “He?”
“Yeah,” Levi answered, with a grin. The story of the cat's name looked to amuse him. “Apparently the breeder was adamant it was a girl. I guess he was too fluffy to see his balls.”
Ignis snorted, and tried to hold it back. Levi's blunt way of speaking was different to anything Ignis was accustomed to, and sometimes he said things that Ignis wouldn't have been able to think. “So now he answers to Princess?”
“Mostly he answers to his food dish,” Levi said.
“Hardly a surprise with the size of him,” Ignis said, looking back down at the picture. Princess overhung Levi's lap on both sides, and covered all the way to Levi's kneecaps while still being slightly curled. Levi wasn't tall, but Princess was still an immense amount of cat. “I thought only kittens had blue eyes?”
Levi shook his head. “He's a Ragdoll, it's a breed thing.” Ignis looked at the image one more time before pushing Levi's phone back towards him. “He's got eyes like his owner.”
“So is it the owner you like, or the cat?” Ignis asked, giving Levi a faint smirk.
Levi gave a soft snort that could be derision or amusement. It was difficult to tell. “I don't even like cats, but this one's okay. He's asked me to look after him at New Year.”
Ignis stared at Levi, doubting the evidence of his own ears. The cat obviously hadn't made the request, but Levi had said he, hadn't he? Levi's date was a woman, Ignis had been sure, and yet when he thought back, he couldn't remember Levi ever saying as much.
But the way he'd spoke about Szayel...
“You're dating a man?”
Ignis saw Levi's eyes go fractionally wider, as if he'd realised his slip up. Ignis wasn't sure what hurt more; that Levi hadn't divulged the information before, or that he hadn't meant to now. “Yeah,” Levi answered. “Did I not tell you that?”
“No,” Ignis answered, sitting up straighter. “You didn't.”
“Sorry,” Levi said.
Ignis looked down at his coffee. He wouldn't have admitted to his own sexuality to Levi had Levi not spotted his affection for Gladio, so perhaps he didn't have the right to get upset about Levi not revealing his own. And yet it was upsetting regardless. “You could have said,” he told Levi, without looking up from his coffee. “Why did you hide it?”
This time Levi shrugged both of his shoulders, and seemed to sink down a little into the booth. “Habit,” he offered. “I've always talked about anyone I've been with without mentioning they're a man. I didn't do it deliberately.”
Ignis let that information sink in. It made sense, he supposed. Any time he'd been called upon to offer an opinion on the attractiveness of others at school he'd kept his answers vague. When his grandfather, god rest his soul, had asked him if he had his eye on anyone at school Ignis had answered in the affirmative. It hadn't been a lie, as such, but it had felt like one to refrain from mentioning that it was another boy.
Perhaps he wasn't the only one that had spent most of puberty doing that.
“I thought,” he began, and found his throat tightening around the words, which was ridiculous and he was not going to surrender to an emotional display, “with the way you spoke about Szayel--”
“People like Szayel are why I talk about people I'm with without mentioning they're men,” Levi asserted. “I don't have a problem with gay men, just with people like him.”
“Still,” Ignis said, rallying despite the fact that he could understand Levi's point, at least somewhat. “You let me think Szayel was the only other gay man we knew.”
Levi opened his mouth to reply, and then shut it again. After a second he gave a nod. “Yeah, that was shitty of me. Sorry.”
Ignis sighed and turned his coffee cup around on the table. “You didn't think that when I admitted to being gay to you would have been a good time to tell me?”
Levi sighed. “I get it,” he said, “I'm a shitty friend. How many coffees do I have to buy you to make it up to you?”
Ignis considered telling Levi that buying him a coffee wouldn't make it go away, but then he remembered that Levi almost never bought a drink unless Ignis was there. His offering to buy Ignis a coffee wasn't bribery, it was a significant conciliatory gesture. “A lot,” he decided. “Letting me think the only person I could speak to about being gay was Szayel is worth a lot of coffee.”
Levi curled his upper lip, but there was a sincerity in his expression that mitigated the effect. “Fine,” he said. He looked Ignis in the eyes again before he repeated, “Sorry.”
Ignis sighed, letting his shoulders sag. Despite the unpremeditated deception, it was somehow a weight off his mind to know that he wasn't alone. Levi had recognised his crush for what it was because he'd likely been through the same. He and Levi had something in common other than their enjoyment of cooking and preference for things to be clean and tidy. There was someone, other than Szayel, with whom he could discuss who he was attracted to, without fear of disgusting or offending them.
As much as was possible when Levi didn't share his tastes in men, anyway.
He picked up his coffee cup once more. “Well,” he said, “now I know you're sleeping with a man, you're going to have to tell me a little more.”
“What are you trying to do?” Ignis asked, eyeing the debris left by the miniature and highly localised tornado.
Bert turned to look at him and away from looking perplexed at his phone, and flushed. “I was trying to cook,” he admitted, after a little hesitation.
Ignis bit back the words, 'You could have fooled me'. If he'd been asked to hazard a guess at what Bert was trying to do, he'd have chosen making a mess over cooking. Keeping his thoughts to himself he ran his gaze over the scattered ingredients. “Cook what?”
“Sunday dinner,” Bert confessed, becoming preoccupied with his phone again and wearing a guilty expression, which he soon transferred to the oven that was currently on.
Ignis couldn't help his sigh. He understood why Bert might choose such a thing; after a few weeks away from home, and the traditional Sunday roast his mother served, Ignis was missing it too. Still, he hadn't previously thought Bert to be a complete novice. Bert had reported that he'd cooked in the past, and his current performance was causing Ignis to question what exactly he'd cooked. “What are you struggling with?” he asked, and failed to restrain the, “Aside from all of it?” that followed.
Bert flashed him such an apologetic look that made Ignis instantly regret his snarkiness. “I don't know how to do the potatoes,” he admitted, “or how long I should cook the meat.”
“That really depends on the meat,” Ignis replied. He glanced back towards the kitchen doors. “Where are the others?” Levi was out somewhere; he'd told Ignis not to expect him home until late. When Ignis had pressed to know where he'd be, Levi had simply promised to tell him later.
“Nel and Gladio and Yylfordt and the rest went out for pizza,” he said, softly. “I don't know where Levi is, and,” he hesitated, and Ignis gave him a scrutinising look, “Annie's at a club meet until six and I told her I'd cook dinner for her,” he said in a rush.
Ah. So Bert was overstretching himself to try and impress Annie. Suddenly the sight made a lot more sense. Bert was easily flustered, and if you combined the pressure of cooking something new with the added pressure of trying to impress a girl it was little wonder he'd crumbled. Ignis checked his watch. Twenty to five. Enough time to salvage Bert's attempt, and tend to his own meal.
“Well then,” he said, moving to where he kept his cooking apron and freeing it from the hook. “Do exactly as I say, and we should be able to salvage this.”
The look on Bert's face was best described as relieved dismay.
The benefit of two ovens made the work a little easier. By the time Annie returned at quarter past six, Bert's roast lamb joint was ten minutes from completion, leaving the kitchen smelling tantalisingly of rosemary and cooked meat. Ignis had refused to let him cook the lamb plain, as he'd originally intended, and had sacrificed some fresh rosemary, and a garlic bulb to the cause. “Proper seasoning makes all the difference,” he lectured. The other oven contained the potatoes, which were merrily roasting away, timed, with a little care, to finish just as the meat had done resting, so they could be served as fresh as they came.
Ignis's own reheated beef stew seemed to pale in comparison.
“Smells good,” Annie said, peering into the kitchen.
Bert flushed, and Ignis could see him struggling to find anything to say. Likely, he knew, he was about to tell her that Ignis had done most of the work. “It should be ready in the next half hour,” Ignis said, cutting in before Bert had chance to downplay his involvement. He'd replaced his cooking apron on its hook, confident he could probably leave most of the rest to Bert, since not even Bert could mess up chopping vegetables and then steaming them. Or so Ignis hoped, at any rate. He was in the process of making himself a coffee, and preparing his own much more modest meal on the hob.
“Did you cook it?” Annie asked, looking at Ignis.
There was no point in denying it, Ignis knew. Some of the others practically salivated over what he made for himself some days, just as they did when he and Levi joined forces, and shopping bills. “Two pairs of hands make lighter work,” he answered, deftly, “but I only helped with the prep.”
It was technically true. The rest had been instructing Bert on what to do, and what not to do, and how to time things. Bert would make a fine cook with explicit and detailed instructions taking the decision making out of his hands.
Annie gave Ignis a scrutinising look, and then turned her attention to Bert. “I'm going to shower,” she said.
“All right,” Bert managed to stammer back, his face turning steadily pinker as Annie left. “Thanks Ignis,” he said.
Ignis only smiled at him. “I rather fear you'll have a high bar to meet in future,” he pointed out, giving his stew a stir. It smelled rich, and delicious, but Ignis still found himself wishing it was a good roast beef, with goose fat roasted potatoes, and trimmed carrots and cabbage, and a thick gravy. “Perhaps next week we should join forces from the outset,” he said.
“Yeah,” Bert agreed, with a smile on his face.
Ignis had almost completed eating his stew when Bert's meal finished cooking. “Take the potatoes out,” he advised, over his bowl, “put the vegetables in the colander, and slice the lamb. In that order.”
He watched as Bert did as he was told, and finished off the last few bites of his own food. At least, he thought, Bert would get some privacy with Annie while they ate. Levi still hadn't messaged him to show he was safe, or explain where he was. A club, perhaps, Ignis thought. Levi had been strangely secretive, mentioning nothing of it until that afternoon, and then only to tell Ignis not to worry if he didn't come home.
He'd returned late from whatever he'd been doing on a few nights, but Ignis had presumed him to either be in the library, or undertaking something related to his studies. The implication that he wouldn't be home tonight made Ignis wonder if Levi had a girlfriend, but he dismissed the notion. Levi would have told him about that.
He hoped he would, anyway. Levi was the first person Ignis called a friend, and as much as he liked some of the others, Bert, for example, and Gladio, and Nel, he wasn't as close to them as he felt to Levi. If Levi was a friend, then they were 'mates', perhaps. People with whom Ignis got on well, but didn't feel he could spill his thoughts to.
Levi had picked up on his growing crush on Gladio quickly, and he was the first person to whom Ignis had ever admitted he was gay. He hadn't used the term, and he hadn't gone in depth on the matter, but still, Levi knew. Levi was the only one who knew.
Raucous laughter filled the corridor as the doors opened, and Ignis heard the sound of the others after a few drinks spilling back into the dorm. Apache was the first to tumble into the kitchen, pushed by some weight behind her which turned out to be Nel, closely followed by Yylfordt, with Gladio taking the rear.
“Damn,” Gladio said, as he followed the others in, looking much more sober than the rest. “Something smells good.”
Apache went straight for the lamb Bert was cutting. “Did you make this?”
Bert coloured, and stammered. “Ignis told me what to do.”
Yylfordt followed Apache, taking a deep sniff of the lamb. “Can we have some?”
Bert backed up, moving along the counter and out of the way. He didn't seem to be able to tell them no.
“I doubt there's enough,” Ignis replied, tartly, from the other side of the dining table. “Bert got enough for himself and Annie.”
“Ah, come on,” Yylfordt pressed, “just a bit?”
“Don't be a dick, Yylfordt,” Apache scolded. “He didn't make it for you, he's trying to impress Annie.” There was a slur to her words, and she sounded as if she found this fact both adorable, and hilarious, with perhaps a sprinkling of pity.
“It's their dinner,” Nel added, her hand on Yylfordt's shoulder and pulling him out of the way. “Stop breathing on it.”
Yylfordt gave an unhappy groan, but did as he was told, taking a few steps back, and then moving across the kitchen to take a couple of bottles out of the ever-present case of beer that seemed to have taken up residence on top of the fridge. “I really fucking miss Sunday dinners,” he lamented.
“My mom does the best roast ham,” Gladio agreed, wistfully.
“Yorkshire puddings,” Apache contributed, before taking one of the bottles from Yylfordt and removing the top with her teeth.
“Oh, yeah,” Gladio replied, giving voice to his longing.
“We should cook a Sunday roast together,” Nel said.
“As if we could pull that off,” Apache replied, dismissively, and jabbing a thumb at Bert's lamb to illustrate what she meant.
“We just need the same help Bert got,” Yylfordt said, eyeing Bert as he went back to his lamb and started slicing it once more. Bert's face was flushed pink, and his ears were glowing.
Gladio turned to look at Ignis, and Ignis tried to pretend he hadn't been watching him. “How about it, Iggy? You up for helping us cook a Sunday dinner next week?”
Ignis found himself unable to refuse. He missed Sunday dinners himself, although he'd never been permitted to cook unaccompanied; his mother always made sure she kept dominion over the kitchen, so he never had full creative control. There was also no point in cooking an elaborate, multi-stage meal for just himself, or even for just himself and Levi. Bert was going out of his way to impress, and had overstretched himself. Ignis had no one he wished to impress that much.
Well, he did, but that person wasn't Levi.
“I can help,” he agreed. “If you put some towards I can buy the ingredients, and talk you through the prep?” he offered.
“Sounds great,” Gladio said, flashing Ignis a smile that made his face burn.
“We'll help too,” Apache said.
Ignis found himself less concerned with the assistance of the rest but he gave a nod anyway. “We can work out the details tomorrow,” he said.
Annie appeared at the door, changed, and showered, the ends of her hair slightly damp. She looked over the roving gang of scavengers as if she was waiting for them to do something.
“Come on,” Nel said, grabbing Yylfordt by the shirt and dragging him towards the door. “Let's leave them to eat.”
Apache followed after Yylfordt, but not before giving Annie a knowing grin. They filed out behind her. Gladio was the last to leave, and he paused to give Ignis a smile. “I'll talk to you tomorrow about,” he began, and trailed off, finishing with, “you know.”
Ignis hoped he wasn't blushing as much as it felt he was. “I look forward to it,” he said, and then wondered if that had been the right thing to say.
Gladio responded with another, brighter smile before he left. The door swung closed behind him.
“What did they want?” Annie asked, making her way across the kitchen to Bert.
Bert clammed up. Ignis could see it in his sudden onset of awkward silence, and the way he somehow endeavoured to hide behind himself. “They wanted our food,” he got out, finally.
“I'll leave you two be,” Ignis declared, getting up to deposit his bowl in the sink. He could come back and wash it later. For now, Bert needed some time alone with Annie. He only hoped that Bert would manage to maintain conversation for the duration.
He excused himself to his room. From the muffled chatter, it sounded as if the pizza party had migrated into Gladio's room, but they'd had the good grace to close the door and keep the noise from filling the dorm. It meant that Ignis had a chance to spend his evening studying.
He had an essay on the formation of Parliament to complete for Politics, which meant going right the way back to the Magna Carta to show the beginnings. There were a few chapters in his course texts that covered the necessary part, but the advised reading list contained another ten books. It probably wouldn't be necessary to read them all, he knew, but he didn't want to miss something important.
Perhaps he'd spend some time after his lectures tomorrow in the library. If he found the relevant chapters, he could photocopy them and bring them back. It would be better than trying to carry ten books, and infinitely better than taking those books out of the library and leaving the other students with nothing.
He took his shoes off and made himself comfortable on his bed with his textbook. Ignis loathed the idea of scribbling in them with a highlighter, especially with how much they'd cost, but the campus stationers sold arrow shaped post it notes, and he'd bought a few different colours of those. It filled the same niche when it came to highlighting.
After a couple of hours Ignis put his textbook away and returned to the kitchen. He expected to have to attend to his washing up, but found, much to his surprise, that someone had already washed his pan and dishes for him. Bert, he thought, likely repaying the favour. He'd have to thank him later.
With little else to do he made himself a coffee. His first lecture on Monday was in the afternoon regardless, not that caffeine kept him up any more. He could probably get another hour or so of studying in before he had to turn in for the night. It wasn't as if he slept much past sunrise no matter what time he went to bed.
While the kettle boiled he checked his phone. There was still no message from Levi. Ignis debated sending him a message to check he was all right. On the other hand, if he was on a date, he might not appreciate the interruption.
He was looking at his phone with a half typed out message when the kitchen door opened. “Hey,” said a familiar voice.
Ignis turned to see Gladio. “Hello,” he replied.
Gladio's smile was soft, and he'd removed his shirt at some point. Ignis did his best not to stare, although he fully expected that Gladio paraded around like this specifically for the attention. He carried some empty beer bottles to the recycling box, slotting them in carefully. “So,” Gladio began. Ignis looked at him, forgetting his phone for a moment. “How much of that dinner was your work? Really?”
Ignis smiled, and turned his attention the kettle as it finished boiling and clicked off. “Let's just say that Bert bought the ingredients, but didn't really know what to do with them,” he said. “But don't tell Annie that.”
“You were playing wingman?” Gladio asked.
Ignis poured his hot water into his coffee pot before he looked up. Gladio was resting casually against the countertop, looking thoroughly at ease. “I suppose,” he admitted.
Gladio gave a small laugh in response, which put a self conscious smile on Ignis's face. “I won't tell her,” Gladio promised. “Bert needs all the help he can get.”
Ignis wondered if that statement was unkind, but then, it was also accurate. Bert was chronically shy, and self conscious. He was far from the only one.
“Next time we go out,” Gladio continued, shifting the topic away from Bert, “you should come with us.”
Ignis looked up, catching Gladio's warm brown eyes. In the artificial light of the kitchen they seemed brighter than usual. “I don't know,” he began, “I have essays due, and between those and work--”
“It's one night, Iggy,” Gladio countered, before Ignis had even finished.
Ignis gave a sigh. “I suppose it depends on what you mean by out,” he said. There was out to a pizza place, and a couple of drinks, or there was out to the student's union for rather more than a couple of drinks. Ignis could probably manage the first, but the second didn't really appeal.
“I mean out,” Gladio said. “Have some drinks, meet some girls, hang with the guys, you know?”
“That's not really my scene, Gladio,” Ignis told him. He wasn't one for going out drinking for the sake of drinking. The idea of going out drinking with Gladio wasn't unattractive, but the idea of getting drunk and making a fool of himself was.
The notion of meeting some girls was more unappealing still.
“I know,” Gladio answered. He stepped closer to Ignis, so that Ignis had to concentrate on his brewing coffee. Had it been brewing for long enough? He wasn't sure. He'd lost track of time with the interruption. “But what if we all went somewhere for dinner or something?” he suggested. “I know we've got this idea for Sunday dinner together,” he said, “but let's be real, it'll be you doing most of the work again.”
Ignis bit the inside of his bottom lip. Going out for dinner with Gladio made his stomach flip, even if there was the implication that the others would be coming along too. He had to admit, however, that it was much more appealing than merely going out drinking. “I'm not exactly flush with money,” Ignis admitted, quietly. Admitting that made his skin crawl, a hangover from his upbringing, and parents who were too proud to admit they couldn't afford all the things they tried to have. Knowing, objectively, that admitting to not being well off was his mother's hang up didn't make it any easier for Ignis to do.
“None of us are,” Gladio pointed out. “Well,” he conceded, “Yylfordt is, but none of the rest of us. It'd just be nice to hang with you while you're taking a load off,” Gladio added.
Ignis swallowed. He could feel his cheeks heating up. “I,” he began, “suppose it's worth consideration.” Gladio grinned at him, as if Ignis agreeing to think about it was the best news he'd heard all week. Ignis found the reaction melting his resolve; it wouldn't be so bad to go out to a restaurant, or gastro-pub, or the like, even if it was just once. “But for what it's worth,” he added, “I enjoy cooking for others.”
Gladio gave an easy shrug. “Doesn't mean you have to do it all the time.”
“I suppose not,” Ignis admitted.
Gladio lingered there a moment longer, and Ignis found himself unable to find anything else to say, but also not wanting to leave because Gladio was there. After a few seconds that seemed to drag on Gladio declared, “I'll see you tomorrow, Iggy. I've got a book you might be interested in when I've finished with it.” His hand fell on Ignis's shoulder, and Ignis felt himself jump at the contact.
“Thank you,” he said, as Gladio's hand slipped from his shoulder again, and Gladio moved away. “I look forward to it. Good night.”
“Sleep tight,” Gladio replied. Then the kitchen door swung shut behind him.
Ignis took a moment to breathe. His nerves were jangling embarrassingly after such a short conversation, and he needed the second to gather himself.
He checked his phone again. There was still nothing from Levi, and he deleted the half typed out message to him. Then he took his coffee to his room to try and forget about Gladio wanting to take him out to relax in favour of the political history of the UK Parliament.
The next morning, Ignis awoke to a text message from Levi: “Message me when you're up.” It had come in a little past midnight, when Ignis had been dead to the world.
The clock now read ten past six. Despite Levi's request, it was probably too early for him to disturb his friend just yet, so instead Ignis opted to take a shower, and make his first coffee of the day before replying.
There were two bathrooms in the dorm, and after the first two weeks, they had ceased to be divided along gender lines. Yylfordt, Apache, and Gladio had been relegated to the use of one of the bathrooms. Nel, Bert, Levi, and Annie had use of either, although Ignis and Levi made exclusive use of the one the other three were banned from using.
Between the toothpaste speckles and tendency to leave hair in the plughole, and shower tray, and, in one unfortunate case, at Ignis's eye level on the shower curtain, an incident that Gladio had owned up to and hastily explained was probably from his armpit, not from where it looked like, a dorm vote had been implemented. One bathroom became designated the 'messy bathroom' and one the 'nice bathroom'. Access to the nice bathroom could be revoked by popular vote of the remaining users.
Apache had been relegated to the messy bathroom shortly after this rule had come into play. With the absence of her make up stains at the sink, the bathroom the rest of them used was so far holding up well under the cleaning rota. Ignis hadn't looked into the designated messy bathroom since, and honestly feared doing so.
He showered, cleaned his teeth, rinsed the shower down and cleaned the sink for good measure, and then made his way to the kitchen for his coffee. His hair hung damp and flat against his head, but it would dry quickly as it always did.
Only then did he pull his phone out to message Levi. “I'm up.”
A couple of minutes later one of the bedroom doors opened, closed, and then Levi made his way into the kitchen. “Good morning!” Ignis greeted, a little too cheery for the time of day.
Levi squinted at him unhappily. “Do you have to be such a morning person?”
Ignis restrained his smile. Levi was regularly grumpy without his tea, a situation which Ignis had been told was not dissimilar to his own. Supposedly, he could get quite catty before his first coffee. “The kettle's just boiled,” he said, helpfully.
Levi grunted and made his way over to it, pulling out his teapot and fine china cup from the cupboard. Ignis waited, watching as Levi scalded the pot before adding his tea-loaded infuser, and then pouring boiling water over it. He brought the pot, and teacup, over to the table.
“So?” Ignis asked, waiting for Levi to do as he'd promised, and explain his whereabouts. Levi wasn't the best conversationalist first thing in the morning, but Ignis had still been waiting for this conversation. He hoped it wouldn't be like pulling teeth, despite Levi's pre-caffeine grouch.
To Ignis's surprise, Levi smiled. It was something he did rarely at the best of times, let alone in the morning, and it was paired with the words, “I was on a date.”
Ignis found himself dumbstruck. He'd wondered if it was a possibility, especially when he'd added Levi's regular evening outings to his late night last night, but... If he honestly tried to picture someone in the dorm dating, Levi wouldn't have been the first person he slotted into that picture. “With who?”
Levi shook his head. “Not telling you that bit yet,” he answered. “It might not get serious enough.”
That, at least, Ignis could respect. If the relationship was a mere fledgling it might cease to be a relationship in short order. “Was it your first date?” he checked.
“No,” Levi answered. He tugged his teacup nearer, dragging it in front of him. “Just the first one that involved getting dressed for it.”
Ignis made an uncertain noise, his brow furrowing.
“Dressed up. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Ignis laughed at that. Levi seemed strangely relaxed to say he hadn't had a sip of tea yet, but he still looked exhausted. “How late did you get back?” he asked. The message had reached Ignis after midnight, so Levi couldn't have slept more than six hours, and knowing Levi, probably less. He went to bed after Ignis, and usually rose at around the same time. Ignis wasn't entirely convinced he actually slept.
“About half twelve,” Levi answered.
Ignis picked up his coffee in both hands and rested his elbows on the table. “So,” he pushed, “do you think it went well?”
Levi poured his tea, carefully and methodically. “Pretty well,” he answered. “I got laid, anyway.”
Ignis froze. He didn't know much about Levi's sex life, or lack thereof, barring what had come out during truth or dare. He wasn't sure sure if Levi was telling him because getting laid was the expected end result of a good date, or because it was significant that he got laid. “I suppose that counts as a good outcome,” he conceded, and then realised a second too late how much of an awkward pun that was.
Levi's grey eyes met and locked with Ignis's, non-verbally scolding him for the awful pun. When Levi had finished pouring his tea and set the pot back down he answered, “It was pretty good.”
Ignis bowed his head. Here was Levi, finding someone to date, and last night Bert had actually been making some positive progress in the direction of acting like a functioning human being around Annie, and what had Ignis achieved? A raging crush on someone unattainable, and only confessing his sexuality to Levi. “I'm happy for you,” he said, pushing the bubble of inadequacy topped with jealousy down in his chest.
“Thanks,” Levi answered, picking up his tea and taking a sip. “Next time, I'll send you a picture of the cat,” he added. “It's huge.”
“Cat?” Ignis asked. “You went to their home?” A local then, he thought, to have a home and a cat. That was interesting.
“Well we didn't fuck in a back alley, Ignis,” Levi retorted. “That has to wait until at least the fifth date.”
Ignis gave an exasperated sigh. He was reasonably sure Levi was being facetious about waiting until the fifth date, reasonably sure only because Levi could be something of a dark horse, but he certainly hadn't expected Levi to end up at someone's home on the first serious date. Although, given that they'd slept together, Ignis supposed there were little other places to have done that. “I didn't mean it like that,” he defended. “It just seems like a big step to invite someone back with you.”
Levi nodded and grunted, taking another sip of his tea. “It wasn't that big a step,” he said. “We've met a few times, we both knew where last night was going.”
“I suppose,” Ignis conceded, reluctantly. If it had been himself he'd have viewed it differently. Perhaps Levi was more accustomed to moving relationships up the required gears to become sexual and didn't consider it a big step. “Where did you meet?”
Levi took another drink of his tea. “Ebony,” he answered.
Ignis stared at him. “Levi!”
“What?” Levi asked, throwing Ignis a look of feigned innocence, or perhaps genuine perplexity. Ignis wasn't entirely sure.
“You met someone where I work?” Ignis asked. That begged the question of when, and where Ignis had been. Levi was a regular on weekend afternoons, although Ignis wished he'd stop taking things from the PIF board. He'd bought things a few times, at least while Ignis was there, but Ignis had also spotted his name in the till drawer at the start of a shift several times before now.
“Is that a problem?” Levi asked. “I didn't know I was only allowed to talk to you in there.”
“I've never seen you meet someone else,” Ignis pointed out. “Have you been hiding it from me?”
Levi shook his head. “They don't spend much time on campus at weekends,” Levi replied, a little too reasonably.
Ignis processed this bit of information. It made sense, if the person Levi was seeing lived in the city, or nearby area. They were settled enough to have an animal, so they weren't in student housing. Perhaps they worked on campus, as a librarian, or in one of the many onsite shops. Or they could be someone pursuing a postgraduate degree that entailed work placements, such as teaching, or nursing. “Are they older?” he asked.
Levi glanced at him, and then gave a simple nod, confirming Ignis's suspicion.
Likely a postgrad student then, Ignis thought. Levi himself was older than the rest of the first years, like Ignis. He was already twenty one, he'd said; it had been a pre-requisite of his entry, since he'd come to university minus a college education. Ignis had been surprised to learn it, at first, but the thought of Levi, already older than the rest of them, dating a twenty four or twenty five year old postgrad student was less uncomfortable than it could have been.
“Well,” he said, “if you're happy, then that's all that matters.”
Levi flashed him another one of those smiles that was rare, but genuine, and made him look younger than usual. “I'll hold you to that,” he said.
The following Sunday, Ignis left very specific instructions with Bert about what time to put the beef joint into the oven. He'd impressed the importance on Bert mostly because he knew Bert would do as he was instructed, and would, in fact, fret about it until he had. The matter of seasoning the joint had been left to Levi's fastidious care.
Everyone had contributed to the shopping list for their Sunday dinner. There had been a vote on the meat, and the preferred vegetables, but yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes were non-negotiable with the meal, at least for now. If Ignis had been able to do as he'd liked, he'd have pressed for a good roast ham, but that was probably too fiddly to entrust to Bert, and Levi had admitted he wasn't sure about the best way to cook a ham, so Ignis had accepted the slim majority winner that was beef.
He and Levi had gone shopping with the money on Friday evening. If it was a success, then a tin was going to live on the kitchen table for group meals. Perhaps it would be for Sunday dinner, or perhaps, Nel had pointed out, they could use it to treat themselves to a night out if people weren't going to be around on Sunday.
Ignis had found a butcher, and got a nice joint of beef for rather less than one at a supermarket would cost. Unfortunately greengrocers were a rarity these days, so they'd ended up in a supermarket anyway for the vegetables and potatoes. There was a market on Wednesday, but that might be cutting it fine when it came to freshness by the time anything bought from there came to be used.
Ignis had enjoyed shopping with Levi. They shared some meals, and their food budget some days anyway; it was much more economical to feed two people than it was to attempt to feed one, but that wasn't the same as buying everything they needed for what was, really, a large family meal.
“Cabbage and broccoli, do you think?” he'd asked, poring over the vegetable display and considering honey glazed parsnips into the bargain.
Levi had huffed, softly. “How many of them do you think will leave their vegetables on the plate anyway?”
Ignis wished he had a counterargument, but Levi had a point. “Yylfordt, at least,” he answered. “What did you have growing up?” Ignis asked, picking up a swede which would do quite well for mash, and might at least trick Yylfordt into consuming something by way of vegetable.
The lack of answer dragged on a few seconds too long, and Ignis looked at Levi when he felt the weight of something being put into his basket. It was a bag of carrots. “Sunday wasn't really a family day for us.”
Ignis instantly felt guilty. “Sorry,” he said. Levi shrugged, as if Ignis's apology meant even less than his presumption. “Sunday dinner is something my mother always insists on,” Ignis said. “Church, Sunday dinner, and then antiques roadshow,” he elaborated. “It's a ritual.”
Ignis put a fresh head of cabbage into the basket before he turned his attention to the broccoli. “Didn't take you for a bible thumper,” Levi commented.
“I'm not,” Ignis answered, “but it's easier to go than argue.”
Levi's acknowledging murmur came just before Levi stopped by Ignis's side, “So this'll be my first Sunday dinner,” he said. Ignis glanced down as a wry smirk flicked across Levi's mouth. “No pressure.”
Being at work meant that Ignis couldn't really cook the entire thing himself, but he'd done the best he could with the instructions he'd left for Bert. He'd left a list, with step by step, clear instructions, right down to adding salt, and exact times and temperatures for Bert to use. With Levi's back up, Ignis had little other choice but to trust that his instructions would be followed.
When he arrived home from work, one particularly displeasing encounter with a tricky customer still ringing in his head, Ignis was pleasantly satisfied to find everything appeared to be in hand. The kitchen smelled of roasted beef and rosemary, and Bert was busily tending to a pot on the hob, with Levi stood nearby, arms folded in quiet adjudication.
Ignis's eyes fell on the dining table. It had been set for eight, with sparkling silverware and wine glasses at each place. “Who--?” he began.
“Nel and Gladio,” Bert answered, looking over his shoulder at Ignis.
“They got wine, too,” came a voice. Ignis looked over at the lounge area again to spot Annie sunk down into one of the chairs with a textbook open across her lap.
Ignis tilted his head. “No Muay Thai tonight?” he enquired. Annie usually didn't return until nearer seven.
“My first essay deadline is Friday,” she answered, her voice dull and uninterested. Ignis kept watching her, and Annie resolutely refused to look up. While it was plausible that she'd blown off training to study, it seemed unlikely that she'd do so with her essay deadline nearly a week away. The alternative, of course, was that Annie had wanted to be part of the dinner preparations, instead of just walking into it.
“Of course,” he replied, giving the table one last look and feeling an upswelling of happiness at the sight of it. For all he disliked the ritual of Sundays at home, he had been missing it, and having a proper Sunday dinner, with a properly set table was exactly what he longed for.
“How are the potatoes coming?” he asked, leaving the dining table to come and inspect Bert's handiwork. He insinuated himself between Bert and the oven without doing anything so crass as nudge Bert aside; Bert gave way to him like the sea to a boat's prow.
“Nearly done,” Levi answered.
Ignis picked up a knife and prodded one of the potatoes with it. “So they are,” he agreed, and turned to Bert. “Well done.”
Bert flushed pink, but his shy smile lit his face up more than the glow of his skin. “He didn't do it all alone,” Levi pointed out, sounding affronted.
“I know,” Ignis replied, turning his attention to Levi and giving him a slightly knowing look. Levi didn't need to be congratulated on a job well done as much as Bert did because Levi wasn't the type to get so nervous he panicked and forgot how to boil water. “And thank you,” he added, meaningfully. “Is the oil heated?”
“Yeah,” Levi answered, clearly mollified, “and the batter's ready to go.”
“Well then,” Ignis said, turning the cuffs of his sleeves up. “Potatoes or yorkshires?”
Levi opted for the potatoes. He'd started them, albeit with Bert, and he was going to finish them. The beef dripping had been another purchase from the butcher, and it paid off. Levi took care to drain, fluff, and then carefully roll the potatoes in the hot fat while Ignis worked quickly to pour batter into the muffin tins filled with the stuff and return it to the oven before either the oven cooled, or something got spilled.
Then it was a simple matter of waiting. Levi stayed in the kitchen to keep an eye on things and prepare the vegetables. The beef was left to rest on the side, carefully covered in loose foil so it could retain its tenderness. If Bert had done precisely as instructed, the beef should be juicy, and faintly pink.
Ignis took the opportunity to have a quick shower. As much as he liked the smell of coffee, one could have too much of a good thing. When he emerged, dressed once more in a soft cotton shirt and plain black trousers that didn't smell of coffee shop, or the impromptu bath he'd taken in latte thanks to that one customer, he nearly walked into Apache.
“Apologies,” he said, taking a step back and drawing the towel down from his still wet hair.
“It's fine,” Apache grunted, than she seemed to second guess herself. “Is,” she began, more softly, “dinner nearly ready?”
Ignis glanced down at his watch. Watches were archaic these days, but he'd worn one since he was a child and he didn't feel dressed without one, just as he felt naked without his glasses. “We should be plating up in ten minutes,” he answered.
“Cool,” Apache answered.
Ignis took that for the end of the conversation and began to head for his bedroom when Apache spoke up again. “You know, you can ask me to do some shit next week.” Ignis stopped and turned to look at her, to find Apache looking sincere. “If you want?” she added. “I don't mind.”
Ignis felt the smile pulling at his cheeks, and he gave Apache a nod. “I'm sure I'll have a task or two for you,” he told her.
Apache smiled so warmly that it took away the grumpy severity in her face. “Great,” she said.
She was remarkably pretty when she smiled, Ignis found himself thinking. It was a pity she didn't do it more often, but then, perhaps she did and Ignis simply hadn't been around. Apache wasn't one he'd made the effort to get to know. “I'll see you in a few moments,” he said.
The others had been waiting by the time he got back in the kitchen. Yylfordt, Nel, Apache, and Annie were chatting at the table while Gladio poured glasses of wine. Yylfordt, Ignis noted, opted for a bottle of beer instead, but Gladio offered round a solid red that would complement the beef nicely. He wondered if Gladio already knew about how best to pair wine with meat, or whether he'd looked it up. In either case he was rather impressed.
The beef came out beautifully, too. Bert had blushed at the praise, trying to deflect compliments onto Ignis's instruction, and Levi's guidance despite Ignis's assertion that while the instruction had been his, the work had been Bert's own. The yorkshire puddings, for the most part, rose exactly as they were meant to. Ignis took the least successful of the batch for himself and made a note that the temperature in the oven must be slightly uneven. Next time he'd have to do things in two, smaller batches instead.
At the end of the meal Gladio groaned, declaring himself stuffed and rubbing his stomach appreciatively. “My compliments to the chefs,” he said, arching back in his seat with a stretch, and then draining the last of his wine.
“You know what we need next time?” Apache began, mopping up a stripe of gravy with a slice of bread. She didn't wait for anyone to posit their answers. “Pudding. Jam roly poly and custard.”
Nel gave a sound of longing. “That's how the fresher's fifteen happens, you know,” she said.
“The what?” Gladio asked.
“First years gain weight,” Annie answered, her voice quiet, but firm. “Because they live on ready meals, or comfort eat.”
Yylfordt stretched his arms and arched his back, mirroring Gladio. “Well that wasn't a ready meal,” he pointed out, snatching his bottle of beer off the table as he finished his stretch and brought his arms back around. “I think we'll be okay with these guys around.”
“We're not cooking for you every day,” Levi replied. Contrary to the expectations of all but Ignis, Levi had turned out to have pretty good table manners. He'd carefully folded his knife and fork together and placed them on his plate when he was done, and he hadn't rested his elbows on the table once while he was eating. Ignis had noticed it the first time he'd eaten with Levi, and it had stood out because it contrasted so sharply with his London accent.
“No,” Nel agreed. “It would be nice to make this a weekly tradition, but I don't think it's fair to have the same people cook every time.”
“I don't mind cooking,” Ignis said, quietly.
“That's not the same as us expecting you to do it,” Gladio said, flashing Ignis a warm smile that killed any protest.
“Exactly,” Nel agreed. “So we were thinking,” she continued, “if everyone agrees, we'll put a kitty together. I know not everyone can put in as much as others-” Levi's derisive snort punctuated the sentence “-but if we put in what we can afford, and then if we've got enough money in there one week, we'll go out instead, and give the chefs a break.”
Ignis kept his eyes on Gladio as Nel spoke, caught in his smile. The 'we' was obviously him and Nel, judging by the last conversation he'd had with Gladio on the matter. Still, Bert seemed enthusiastic enough, and while Apache and Yylfordt were non-committal, they didn't make any objections.
“I suppose it would be nice to treat ourselves,” he agreed.
“That's settled then,” Gladio declared. “We'll put a tin on the side tomorrow.”
Ignis put in his tips that week, and didn't really expect to find there was a lot of money in the tin by the following Friday. He was as surprised as Levi to find that the tin contained nearly thirty pounds when they came to check it. It wasn't enough for them to go out to a restaurant, but it was enough for them to do a big Sunday dinner again, plus dessert, and have change to spare.
Levi came into the kitchen on Saturday night to find Ignis toasting oats and zesting a lemon. “Starting already?” he asked.
Ignis turned and found himself staring. Levi was dressed in a pressed white shirt with a black tie, and black trousers. They accentuated his slender frame, even if they didn't do much for his height. “If I prepare it now, we can put it straight in the oven when dinner is served tomorrow,” he answered, making himself look away to continue zesting the lemon. “You look nice,” he added, without turning back.
The compliment was met with silence, and Ignis didn't look back around in case he caught Levi in a moment of self consciousness. “Another date?” he asked, setting the lemon to one side and picking up the stray bits of rind that had escaped the dish with his fingertips.
“Yeah,” Levi answered, sounding a little awkward about it. “I won't be back tonight,” he added, “so don't go worrying about me.”
Ignis smiled into his own chest and retrieved his spoon. “I won't,” he answered, bending down to open the oven door and give the oats a stir so they could toast evenly on both sides. “You'll be back tomorrow, won't you?” he asked, standing back up again as he closed the oven door and gave Levi another look.
“Yeah,” Levi answered, “we're not that far in that I'm staying the weekend yet.”
“Just checking,” Ignis replied, with a soft smile. “If you don't come back tomorrow, I'll be sure to call the police.”
Levi gave a snort, and approached the oven. “I thought you were doing apple crumble?” he asked.
“I am,” Ignis answered, “but with a flapjack topping.” He'd wanted to make a jam roly poly for Apache, but the recipe involved a little more work than he was able to put in when he wouldn't be getting back until around half four. By then the cooking was getting into full swing. Perhaps next week, he'd decided, and he'd recruit Apache to help make it. This week she was volunteering on meat cooking duty, and Bert had been assigned to the vegetables.
Levi shook his head. “Why are you doing politics?” he asked. “You obviously want to be a chef.”
Ignis gave a laugh and began to heat up a pan on the stove. “I don't think I'm worthy of that,” he replied, glancing sidelong at Levi. “I enjoy cooking, that's all.”
Levi hummed sceptically. “I enjoy cooking,” he pointed out, “but I don't go out of my way to do it for others.”
Ignis could smell the oats from the oven, indicating they'd toasted for long enough. He bent down to pull them out and switch the oven off. “This is the first time I've had the freedom to do what I like in the kitchen,” he said, tipping the oats into a bowl and then scraping the lemon zest in with them and giving it another stir. “I'm just taking advantage.”
Levi murmured wordlessly. “I'll see you tomorrow anyway,” he said, moving away from the counter.
“Should I wish you luck?” Ignis asked, turning away from the oven to watch Levi retreat to the door.
Levi gave a short laugh. “Too late,” he answered, “I already got lucky.”
Ignis smiled at that as the door closed behind Levi. At least, from the sound of it, Levi was happy. He wondered how long it would be before Levi introduced him to his date.
On Sunday afternoon Levi came into Ebony. A number of regulars had been in already, including Professor Leonis, whom Ignis had learned was Gladio's business studies lecturer. He was an authoritative looking man who was unfailingly polite to Ignis and the other staff, and who, Gladio had insisted, was the strictest lecturer on campus. He wasn't usually in on Sundays, but often came for a morning coffee on Saturdays when he kept his offices open for any students that wanted help with their essays and couldn't make it during usual office hours.
Ignis liked him. He'd come in following the late morning hangover-cure seeking zombie crowd and ordered a sandwich and a coffee and sat in. A short while later he'd been joined by Professor Smith; Ignis's history lecturer, who had ordered a latte and a cake. Ignis was getting better at latte art at least and had progressed onto rosettas, so he no longer had to draw hearts on the top of his professor's coffee.
Roughly half an hour after Professor Smith had come in, Levi walked into the shop. “Afternoon,” Ignis said. Levi was still wearing the clothes he'd had on last night, although they looked slightly less pristine. “Tea?” he asked.
“Thanks,” Levi answered.
“Have you just got back?” Ignis asked, as he prepared a tray, and teapot.
Levi gave him a thoroughly flat look. “No,” he responded, the sarcasm dripping from his tone, “these are the only clothes I own now.”
Ignis raised an eyebrow, and tapped his glasses a fraction higher up his nose. “It's a little later than I'd expected, that's all,” he defended. Mid-afternoon was not when Ignis would have thought Levi would be returning home, let alone that he'd have stopped for a tea first. “I take it the date went well?”
Levi shrugged one shoulder, but he couldn't hide the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth that belied the smile trying to make its way across his face. “Pretty well, yeah,” he said. “Are you due a break?”
Ignis glanced at his watch. He didn't really get a break in his Sunday shift, with it only being four hours, but it was quiet, and Aranea was forgiving enough to let smoking staff grab a couple of cigarette breaks when it was like this. “Let me check with Jesse,” he said. He could always stay behind an extra fifteen minutes instead to make the time up that way.
Jesse turned out to be quite amenable to that idea. Midterm Sundays were quiet, and they tended to close down half the shop and give it a thorough cleaning after four because it reduced the amount of time closing up took later. If Ignis was willing to stick behind and scrub the tables before he went then Jesse didn't mind him taking a quick break. It would mean getting home to help with the cooking a little later, but fifteen minutes wouldn't result in any disasters.
Ignis made himself a coffee from the board before he went and joined Levi at the table, making sure to fold his apron down so he looked less like an employee. “So,” he began, sliding into the booth opposite Levi. Professors Smith and Leonis were a couple of booths back, and their conversation was muted from here, indicating Levi and Ignis had the same amount of privacy. “How did it go?”
Levi gave a one shouldered shrug as he flicked through his phone. “Pretty good,” he said. “We're going out again Wednesday.”
Ignis picked up his coffee. The crema on top swirled, and he inhaled the scent of fresh coffee. He was surrounded by it for hours on end, here, and it lost a little of its lustre as a result, but he still enjoyed sitting down with a good cup of strong black coffee and savouring it. “Things are starting to get serious?” he asked.
Levi glanced up from his phone to catch Ignis's eye. “It's not like we jumped into bed together straight away. I don't know if I'd call it serious yet.”
Ignis took a sip of his coffee and mulled that one over. In his position, well, jumping into bed together would be the indication that it was serious. Serious enough, at least, but then, he'd been brought up as a strict Catholic. Levi, who had some experience before getting to university, didn't have that to hold him back. Maybe it was less of a big deal when you'd done it before? “You seemed happy last night,” he pointed out, smiling into his cup.
Levi stopped flicking through his phone and slid the handset across the table. On the screen was a picture of what appeared to be Levi's lap, being thoroughly dominated by a gigantic, seal-pointed mass of fur with blue eyes.
“That's not a cat,” Ignis said, “that's a cloud with a face.”
“It's a heavy cloud,” Levi replied. “He's called Princess.”
Ignis paused. “He?”
“Yeah,” Levi answered, with a grin. The story of the cat's name looked to amuse him. “Apparently the breeder was adamant it was a girl. I guess he was too fluffy to see his balls.”
Ignis snorted, and tried to hold it back. Levi's blunt way of speaking was different to anything Ignis was accustomed to, and sometimes he said things that Ignis wouldn't have been able to think. “So now he answers to Princess?”
“Mostly he answers to his food dish,” Levi said.
“Hardly a surprise with the size of him,” Ignis said, looking back down at the picture. Princess overhung Levi's lap on both sides, and covered all the way to Levi's kneecaps while still being slightly curled. Levi wasn't tall, but Princess was still an immense amount of cat. “I thought only kittens had blue eyes?”
Levi shook his head. “He's a Ragdoll, it's a breed thing.” Ignis looked at the image one more time before pushing Levi's phone back towards him. “He's got eyes like his owner.”
“So is it the owner you like, or the cat?” Ignis asked, giving Levi a faint smirk.
Levi gave a soft snort that could be derision or amusement. It was difficult to tell. “I don't even like cats, but this one's okay. He's asked me to look after him at New Year.”
Ignis stared at Levi, doubting the evidence of his own ears. The cat obviously hadn't made the request, but Levi had said he, hadn't he? Levi's date was a woman, Ignis had been sure, and yet when he thought back, he couldn't remember Levi ever saying as much.
But the way he'd spoke about Szayel...
“You're dating a man?”
Ignis saw Levi's eyes go fractionally wider, as if he'd realised his slip up. Ignis wasn't sure what hurt more; that Levi hadn't divulged the information before, or that he hadn't meant to now. “Yeah,” Levi answered. “Did I not tell you that?”
“No,” Ignis answered, sitting up straighter. “You didn't.”
“Sorry,” Levi said.
Ignis looked down at his coffee. He wouldn't have admitted to his own sexuality to Levi had Levi not spotted his affection for Gladio, so perhaps he didn't have the right to get upset about Levi not revealing his own. And yet it was upsetting regardless. “You could have said,” he told Levi, without looking up from his coffee. “Why did you hide it?”
This time Levi shrugged both of his shoulders, and seemed to sink down a little into the booth. “Habit,” he offered. “I've always talked about anyone I've been with without mentioning they're a man. I didn't do it deliberately.”
Ignis let that information sink in. It made sense, he supposed. Any time he'd been called upon to offer an opinion on the attractiveness of others at school he'd kept his answers vague. When his grandfather, god rest his soul, had asked him if he had his eye on anyone at school Ignis had answered in the affirmative. It hadn't been a lie, as such, but it had felt like one to refrain from mentioning that it was another boy.
Perhaps he wasn't the only one that had spent most of puberty doing that.
“I thought,” he began, and found his throat tightening around the words, which was ridiculous and he was not going to surrender to an emotional display, “with the way you spoke about Szayel--”
“People like Szayel are why I talk about people I'm with without mentioning they're men,” Levi asserted. “I don't have a problem with gay men, just with people like him.”
“Still,” Ignis said, rallying despite the fact that he could understand Levi's point, at least somewhat. “You let me think Szayel was the only other gay man we knew.”
Levi opened his mouth to reply, and then shut it again. After a second he gave a nod. “Yeah, that was shitty of me. Sorry.”
Ignis sighed and turned his coffee cup around on the table. “You didn't think that when I admitted to being gay to you would have been a good time to tell me?”
Levi sighed. “I get it,” he said, “I'm a shitty friend. How many coffees do I have to buy you to make it up to you?”
Ignis considered telling Levi that buying him a coffee wouldn't make it go away, but then he remembered that Levi almost never bought a drink unless Ignis was there. His offering to buy Ignis a coffee wasn't bribery, it was a significant conciliatory gesture. “A lot,” he decided. “Letting me think the only person I could speak to about being gay was Szayel is worth a lot of coffee.”
Levi curled his upper lip, but there was a sincerity in his expression that mitigated the effect. “Fine,” he said. He looked Ignis in the eyes again before he repeated, “Sorry.”
Ignis sighed, letting his shoulders sag. Despite the unpremeditated deception, it was somehow a weight off his mind to know that he wasn't alone. Levi had recognised his crush for what it was because he'd likely been through the same. He and Levi had something in common other than their enjoyment of cooking and preference for things to be clean and tidy. There was someone, other than Szayel, with whom he could discuss who he was attracted to, without fear of disgusting or offending them.
As much as was possible when Levi didn't share his tastes in men, anyway.
He picked up his coffee cup once more. “Well,” he said, “now I know you're sleeping with a man, you're going to have to tell me a little more.”
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2: Erwin's awful, shagging Levi and not having him stay over. XD Poor little sod. Feel bad about that in the future, Erwin.
3: Also AWWWW. Poor Ignis. Levi better be feeling really guilty right about now. 8|
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2. Erwin will. It's not like he knows he took Levi's virginity. Yet.
3. Levi is a bad friend. He might feel a bit guilty. A tiny bit. Not that he's going to verbally acknowledge this.
I mean, letting Ignis think there was him and Szayel, really.... Bad Friend.
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And yeah, Bert's pretty adorable for a blushy failure. =D
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Ignis is in for a nasty surprise, that's for sure.
And Bert is precious. Trying to impress Annie and needing help not to fail spectacularly.