hatesparadise | Baltimore, Tuesday Afternoon

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Baltimore, Tuesday Afternoon

Steve was being Steve about going to Baltimore, but it wasn't like there was a shrink on the island that specialized in ~~being the spouse of active duty military~~ the weird stuff in his life. Plus, he liked this lady.

So, he was just going to keep going.

Which might have been a slight miscalculation after their last trip here. Because, almost as soon as he left the office and got out onto the street, a white van screeched up and guys in face masks pulled up to drag him in. Because his goddamn life.

[for the SEAL!]

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"You sure about that, pal?" Steve teased, pulling into the parking lot.

"You have seen me without product in it." Since they lived together and all.

"That's you?" Steve teased, getting out of the truck. "Thought it was some other grumpy blond looking for coffee."

"Well, not all of us can be chipper at five in the morning," Danny called after him, unbuckling himself before getting out to join him.

"Greet the day with a smile, Danny," Steve, little shit, said, nodding.

Danny very maturely flipped him off until he realized they were making a scene. "You're buying."

"Only if you don't like it," Steve decided.

"Deal!" Damn Steve and his knowing what Danny liked before Danny even knew it.

It was a power Steve only used for good! Most of the time!

He pushed the door to the restaurant open, and took a deep breath of spices and coffee. "Mmm."

Uh huh. Sure.

"There better be beer, you know."

"Of course there'll be beer," Steve said as they were lead to a low table surrounded by pillows. "I know you."

"Yeah, yeah, you do." Danny frowned at the table, squinting at Steve to show off how this was meant to go.

Steve sprawled his giant giraffe legs over some of the pillows as he sat down. "So this is communal eating," he said. "They'll bring a big platter of various kinds of meats and beans in sauces along with a bunch of injera bread that you use to pick everything up with."

No forks, Danny.

"Should I wash my hands?" Danny asked, carefully lowering himself down as well.

"Yes, but they'll bring stuff over," Steve said. "It's part of the whole experience."

He sighed and gestured for Steve to take charge once again. Because this was his life.

"If you make me eat something too spicy, I'll smack you," he warned.

"Not too spicy," Steve promised. "The right kind of spicy."

Their waitress materialized and Steve put an order of a mix for a vegetarian and meat platter, plus two Ethiopian beers.

Because this was not a date or anything.

"Oh, and just what does that mean?"

Their waitress definitely thought they weren't on a date! For real!

"I'm not gonna make you breathe fire, Danny," Steve said, "but spices are good. Especially in Ethiopian food. It's not like anything else, I promise."

"I'm trusting you here," Danny informed him, pleased enough with the beer once it was brought out to them.

"That's a good instinct," Steve said, grinning.

The waitress returned a few minutes later with a teapot, a bowl and a towel.

"Handwashing," Steve said quickly. "Only the right hand, it's the one you'll eat with."

"What if you're a leftie?" Danny asked, waiting to watch Steve go first.

"They're getting better about being okay with that, but generally you eat with your right and you touch other stuff with your left," Steve said delicately as the waitress poured water over his right hand and into the bowl.

"Other stuff," Danny muttered, doing the same as Steve. "Alright, I guess it's interesting."

Yes, dazzle him with your cultural knowledge, Steven.

Steve beamed at him. "I told you it'd be fun."

	
		OSZAR »

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