Orphanage AU: Lams

Chapter 29: John decides to Cook

Just want to say again, thank you to everyone who reads and votes. Literally seeing in my notifications that someone voted a chapter makes my day.

---John's POV---

When Alex came back to the dorm with his refilled coffee, I could feel the hurricane of anger around him. His clenched jaw made him less cute and more handsome. He sipped his coffee aggressively an his eyes flicked up at me as he opened his computer somewhat violently.

"Hey John." I bit my lip at the harsh rift in is voice as he said my name. The screen lit his face and he began typing aggressively too. It was kind of hot.

I watched his fingers nimbly tap-tap-tapping on the black keys, smooth and skilled. He hardly hit the delete key.

"You ok?" He glanced up with concern. "You look relatively flushed." Ah! Oops.

"Uh, no I'm fine." I laughed it off. "You good though? 'Cuz you seem kinda mad." What is subtlety?

"Yeah, I just ran into someone whose company I don't particularly enjoy."

Wow, his vocabulary had no off switch. I smiled with relief. "Ok, as long as it's not something I did.

"Not at all, you're thoroughly amazing." Alex replied matter-of-factly.

I blushed, and shuffled over to the fridge to hide my face. "Aw shit, you too." I considered the food. I was terrible at cooking but I found that I really enjoyed it. It had been really fun. "I'm cooking dinner." I announced.

Looking up, Alex offered, "I can order something if you want to eat."

I shook my head shyly. "If you're ok with it I kind of want to cook. I've never cooked before, so..."

Alex looked mildly surprised. "Never? Wow."

Oh crap. That was a slip. "Y-yeah. I'll try not to set a fire and burn down the building."

Alex grinned. "Alright, go ahead and cook." I pumped a fist of victory and got to work.

When I got hurt, I never reacted vocally, a reflex thrown in there from all the punches, so when I cut myself while cubing carrots, I sucked in my breath and that was it.

Somehow Alex heard my anyway. "John, oh shit, did you cut yourself?" He flinched at his own use of words and lept up quickly. "Rinse it off."

"It's just a small cut," I responded, but I did as he asked.

Alex dried it and wrapped it up very skillfully. Too skillfully. But I didn't say anything, half because I figured he probably didn't want to talk about it and half because I was afraid if we talked at all, he'd look up and me and see I was blushing because he was practically holding my hand.

"Thanks." I said softly. Alex pulled his hands away and nodded, returning to his work and leaving my hands tingling.

Alex seemed unaffected by the low key hand holding between us, but I noticed he hit the delete key much more than before. By the time I finished cooking dinner, he seemed almost frustrated with himself for messing up while he typed.

"Here," I said, handing him a plate of chicken and bread salad. (It's so good, guys.) "I won't be offended if you hate it. It's probably terrible."

"I don't know, it smells incredible." Grabbing a fork, Alex took a bite. His eyes popped open. "Holy hell this is delicious! You claim to have never cooked before?"

Blushing, I grinned. "It's ok then?" I took a fork and poured myself some water.

"It's far beyond ok. This is genuinely genius." Alex took a huge bite, speaking through his hand politely. "How'd you accomplish this?"