Feral Daydreams 🎀

A Recipe for Passion (🍋)

One time, Crimson proudly handed Dorian a steaming plate of freshly made Spaghetti Carbonara, a dish he'd been perfecting for weeks. The creamy sauce glistened, and the scent of garlic, pancetta, and parmesan wafted into the air. Dorian took a deep inhale, his eyes lighting up as the aroma hit him. Without a second thought, he grabbed a fork and started digging in, letting out an appreciative hum as he took his first bite.

"Well?" Crimson asked, his grin widening, his golden tooth catching the light as he leaned in with anticipation.

Dorian, still savoring the taste, quickly swallowed and grinned back. "It's amazing!" he exclaimed. After another bite, he looked up and asked, "Do you think you could teach me some simple Italian dishes? I've always wanted to learn."

Crimson chuckled, crossing his arms confidently. "Of course! Anytime you're ready."

They agreed to meet the next morning for their first lesson. Dorian showed up dressed in comfortable, casual clothes-the kind he wouldn't mind getting a little messy in. Crimson, already prepping ingredients in the kitchen, handed him an apron.

Dorian tied the apron around his waist and glanced over at Crimson. "So, what are we making today?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Crimson smiled, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Today, we start with the basics-homemade gnocchi. Trust me, it's simpler than it looks, and you'll love it."

Dorian grinned enthusiastically, "I've had it before, but never made it myself." He rolled up his sleeves, eager to dive into the process.

"Fantastic, then today you'll discover the art of turning simple ingredients into pure joy."

Crimson handed Dorian a bowl of mashed potatoes, flour, and an egg, his movements smooth and confident. He leaned in closer than necessary, enjoying Dorian's nearness and the opportunity to guide his hands in kneading the dough.

"Now, mix these together," Crimson instructed, his voice low and melodic, like a chef revealing his most coveted secret recipe. He watched as Dorian followed the instructions, then added, "Not too much flour, or they'll become heavy-it's all about balance."

Dorian's hands moved instinctively, guided by Crimson's proximity and the warmth of his breath on his skin. He found himself leaning in slightly, his fingers brushing against Crimson's as he incorporated the flour into the mixture.

"Just like that," Crimson murmured approvingly, allowing their fingers to linger for a moment longer than necessary before stepping back, his dark red eyes dancing with amusement at Dorian's reaction. "See how the dough comes together? It's like..." he paused for dramatic effect, "two souls becoming one." He winked, turning back to the counter to prepare the potato ricotta filling.

Dorian's heart skipped a beat at the poetic comparison, and he felt a flush rise to his cheeks as he continued to work the dough, his mind swirling with thoughts of Crimson's words. He couldn't help but wonder if the chef was referring to more than just the ingredients they were mixing together.

Chuckling to himself at Dorian's blush, Crimson decided to keep things lighthearted, but also a little suggestive. "Alright, next step. Take a small piece of the dough and roll it into a long rope, then cut it into little pillows. Make sure they're all uniform in size; consistency is key, especially when cooking-and in life." He flashed another charming smile over his shoulder, expertly rolling a piece of dough between his fingers.

Dorian's mouth went dry as he watched Crimson's long, agile fingers work the dough, rolling it into neat, little cylinders. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed. "And what about... life?" He asked, his voice slightly hoarse.