lessons;

[dramamines]

( there's nothing that makes a man hungrier than coming out of an incredibly intense battle — it might not be the end of a war, but they're getting close — and he really can only stay cooped up for so long before he starts going stir crazy. yeah, that's right. you heard right. the cabin fever might not be on the same level as, say, lance's fidgeting in his own room in the med bay, but it's at least enough to be on the scale in the first place, and when hunk's nerves get the better of him …

he needs to cook. needs to take his mind off of everything they've just gone through, all the lives lost in comparison to all those they managed to save by the end of it, and they might have been able to take earth back from the galra, but that still leaves the whole rest of the known universe, and if he doesn't find something to occupy his noggin with he's going to end up going batty. he doesn't want to go batty. going batty absolutely does not sound appealing to him at all right now.

which means that when they're all finally released from their captivity ( read: discharged ), if anyone ever finds themselves in search of one ( 1 ) hunkadoodle, all they need to do is check the nearest kitchen.

he tries not to make a menace of himself, staying out of the way in the mess hall as much as he can but he needs something to do and there doesn't seem to be any shortage of food-related things that require his attention. mainly, he'd like to add some new things to the menu that maybe no one else has thought of, things that both cadets and officers can enjoy, and maybe see some of the speedier individuals actually sitting down to enjoy a meal every once in a while. because it isn't really a meal if you aren't enjoying it, right? right.

that was absolutely a rhetorical question.

so. it's a pretty slow evening and he's presently alone in the kitchen, hming and ehhing to himself as he looks over some ingredients he has at his disposal, thinking that he might try some new dessert because everyone loves that sort of thing. seriously. who doesn't love dessert?

that was another rhetorical question. duh, everyone loves dessert.

anyway. he isn't expecting any company at this time of the evening but if anyone could be expected to be wandering about … on his own … at any given time it would be keith, and when the other enters he picks his head up from where he'd been staring at a measuring cup with the kind of scrutiny one might give an ant through a magnifying glass ( except without the impending death by being fried by magnified sunbeam ), and his expression immediately brightens. ) Keith! Hey, what are you doing roaming around all by your lonesome?

Comments

[marmoron]

[It's definitely far from over. Earth may be safe from Sendak now, but the strange Komar-mech that almost wiped out Earth on its own without the backing of an entire Galra fleet is still on Keith's mind. Or at least, it would be if he wasn't surrounded by medics trying to determine the severity of his concussion for days afterwards. You know who really didn't need to be dealing with CT scans and jargon about coup and contrecoup injuries? Spoilers: this fucking guy.

It's been a long, long couple of days in the medical bay in other words. As soon as they've been given medical clearance, Keith's immediately wandered off by himself to try and process everything that's happened without medical devices beeping in his ear or a whitecoat asking how his head's feeling today.

Turns out, when you take those nuisances out of the question, the answer is simple. He's never felt better. They've accomplished a lot together and though the war isn't over, they've won their most personal fight yet. It's enough of a reason to be smiling faintly as he enters the Garrison kitchen.

But the kitchen's currently occupied and well....]

Oh hey, Hunk. Was just gonna grab a quick bite before heading out for some fresh air.

[Still smiling a little, he approaches the kitchen counter.]

Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you in here. You making something?

[dramamines]

( there are a lot of things on hunk's mind — largely, how they're all going to come out at the end of this, and they means both the family he'd grown up with and the one he'd found in the paladins, in allura and coran and the bonds they'd all formed in the interim, because blood doesn't always mean you're family. it means you're tied together, yeah, but there are always going to be so many other bonds made along the way, there is no denying that his connection to his fellow pilots means a heck of a lot to him.

which means that, honestly, he's going to be concerned with the other being up and rolling around like he is now, but he's always going to be concerned for all of them, so … that's kind of a moot point, isn't it? ( being discharged doesn't automatically mean going full throttle again, either. so. don't do that, 'kay? )

love yourself, keet. take care of yourself. or let somebody else —

bingo.

his smile is fit to split his face right down the middle, and when keith gives one back to him? gosh. he knows the other has gotten a little more used to openly showing things that aren't, say, irritation or something like it lately, but it's still a pleasant little surprise every time it comes around, and he'll always appreciate it when it's directed at him. ) Trying to add some freshness to the menu, if you catch my drift. It's looking kinda stale. ( ehe. heh. see what he did there?

good grief, hunk. ) Haven't figured out what I'm making yet, but I could use your input, if you don't mind giving it. ( hang out for a while, buddy … )

[marmoron]

[He's not going to comment on the pun, but know that he feels exactly as you'd expect him to feel about it. Though truth be told, he's glad to find Hunk in good spirits and jumping headfirst into Hunk-things now that they're out of the med bay, so there's a smile as he shakes his head. He walks the rest of the way over to the counter to take a better look at what's been laid out.]

My input?

[A blink of surprise, and a pinch of pleasant incredulity.]

Sure, but I don't know much about cooking. Dunno how useful my input's gonna be here.

["Don't know much about cooking" is a bit of an understatement. He knows how to cook maybe three extremely basic things and is otherwise a professional microwaver. Keith's relationship to food has largely been a practical one -- as in, he eats because he has to in order to do all the other things he's more interested in.]

[dramamines]

( come on, keet. we've figured out you have a better sense of humor than you were willing to let on — and no, we're not going to blame it on your suddenly turning galra, because that's back in the past — but that was a good pun. you can't deny that. well, you could try, but you wouldn't be able to. )

You don't have to know much about cooking, just what you like. ( he's moving around the things he has laid out, and while those ingredients are still stuck in some nebulous, dismissive introspection because someone still hasn't decided what he's cooking yet, it can be assumed that there's a nice array of all kinds of things available. proteins, dairies, some fruit and veggies, maybe? some sweet stuff for perusal later …

he pauses with hands on his hips. ) Like … pick maybe one or two things you'd wanna see up for grabs around here. What would make your morning to see for breakfast? Or be the perfect dessert. I dunno, man, I just need something to get me started here.

( also! your input is largely valued because he thinks you might be particular about your food if given half the chance, and aren't eating just out of necessity.

basically: he wants to make something that will make you happy. )

[marmoron]

Uh...

[See that's a whole other can of worms, Hunk. What does he like to eat? Keith doesn't even have an answer for this. Most of his formative years were spent eating whatever was on the menu that day, at school, at the group home, at the Garrison -- not a whole lot of choice offered there. And by the time he kinda ran off to live on his own for that year, food choices were a bit limited by whatever meager budget he was able to scrape together. Then came a whole bunch of food goo.

In other words, he doesn't have the best relationship to food on a whole bunch of levels, Hunk. There's a lot of weirdness here to unpack here. He glances from Hunk down to a carton of blueberries. For better or for worse, even Keith seems to realize this question shouldn't be difficult so his answer's a little sheepish.]

I never really thought about it, Hunk. I used to just eat a lot of stuff like hot pockets.

[dramamines]

( these are things he wouldn't have thought about otherwise, keith not having ever thought of the things he likes; it just seems like a natural thing to him, like breathing, to be able to pick out one or two ( or several ) things that he likes the most, just out of sheer enjoyment, and he might end up feeling a little bit like he's overstepped some boundary by asking such a simple thing in the first place, just because of what it means.

keith has never had a chance to think of something so simple, and that pokes at hunk's heart like something tangible, a physical touch that he can't ignore, but he'll push right past it in favor of focusing on the more positive side of things, because this is the perfect sort of chance for him to figure out that kind of thing in the first place. )

I've got nothing against hot pockets, but man, you need to live a little. ( of course he means it in the best way, if the smile he gives is any indication, and he's honestly trying to go about this as delicately as possible? because food is supposed to make you happy, not realize all the things you've missed out on in the past. ) How about this, then.

Is there anything you've always wanted to try? Something that just sounded good?

[marmoron]

[THE HOTPOCKETS WERE DELICIOUS, HUNK!! Though in all that time spent in space eating the food that Hunk so lovingly prepares from ingredients all over the universe, Keith can pretty readily concede that he has indeed been missing out on some of the simpler things in life. He gives this one a brief moment of thought, brow furrowing.]

Mm... can you make crepes with the stuff that's out here?

[Absolutely pronouncing that word as "crapes" because he has no time for the French accent; he is a simple man.]

I remember seeing food trucks selling those around Platt City, but I've never actually tried one.

[And now, Platt City is gone and so are the food trucks. Weird how he'd always assumed those would still be around when they got back.]