Page 116 of Pistols and Plush Toys

“Is so good I will eat whole pot,” Nikolai said, pulling his bowl closer to himself. “Tell Gerard all about it, and he’s say‘not fair Kolya, I’m wanting borscht’but Gerard doesn’t have best chef.”

Elliot’s smile bloomed wider and he giggled, picking up his own spoon. “I can always make more, if you want to share with Gerard.”

Nikolai made a show of thinking about it. “Maybe. I can be very generous. Such good friend, to share your good borscht.”

Elliot laughed again. “I’m glad you like it. So it’s… close? I did my best.”

“Yes, you do very good job,” Nikolai said with a nod. “How? Meredith, she sends me many chefs, all of them very bad at Russian food.”

A few times Meredith, frustration clear on her face, had just told him that she’d hire actual Russian chefs from literal Russia if that made Nikolai happy, but Nikolai… hadn’t wanted her to. It had felt too close. Like letting someone see his soft spots.

But he found that eating a dish Elliot had chosen to make for him, that Elliot had madefor him,to make Nikolai happy… that made all the difference in the world.

More pink was flaring across Elliot’s face. “Oh, I mean, um, research mostly? I went and searched out online blogs by Russian cooks. I cross-referenced them to see the variations and did some research on the history of the dish. A lot of the time cultural dishes change over the years, or are different in certain regions. I, um, I didn’t know what part of Russia you’re from, so I went with the most common iteration. And well, I still know the butcher that Melrose used to source meat from? So I ordered the beef from them. Meredith helped.”

Nikolai stared at him in shock. “That is much work. All that… for me?”

Elliot shrugged, eyes turning down bashfully. “I mean, you said how you felt about people getting it wrong. I–I just wanted to try and make something close? I know it can’t be truly authentic, but, um.”

Elliot had spent so much time and effort on this, but was still so shy, so uncertain about the outcome.

“You do very good job,” Nikolai said solemnly. “Is very authentic. Very good. I’m wanting to say… thank you. I’ve not had good Russian food in long time. This… this mean very muchto me.” His voice went rough at the end with emotion, but he didn’t try to hide it. Here, with Elliot, he didn’t have to be Nikolai Tkachenko. He could just be a man grateful for a good meal. For the time and effort and care Elliot had put into this. This gift.

“Is reminding me of my ???????.” Nikolai said honestly. “She was old, so when I visit, she’s send me out into snow to get wood. When work is done, we have borscht.” He looked down at his bowl. “Is good memories.”

He took another spoonful to cover the catch in his throat. It wasn’t often he had cause to think about his ???????. The ache of missing her wasn’t as raw as it had been almost thirty years ago. Now, after all this time, he could think about the happy memories of her.

He couldn’t believe Elliot would go through so much trouble for this. For him.

“I’m glad you like it,” Elliot said again, voice soft.

Nikolai cleared his throat. “You make lots? ”

“Yeah,” Elliot said, beaming now. “I made a whole pot.”

“Good. Very good,” Nikolai said, and then he dipped his spoon back into the stew for more.

They ate in companionable silence after that, but every so often Elliot looked up at him in awe, like he couldn’t believe Nikolai would like the dish.

So Nikolai convinced him with his actions too, finishing his bowl and going back for another. He finished that one too, complimenting it as he finished.

Because Elliot deserved to know just how good and wonderful he was. Just what a gift he’d given Nikolai, with this meal.

***

Later that evening, after eating, cleaning, and watching the rest of the episode of Checklists, Elliot excused himself to goget ready for bed. Nikolai went ahead and did the same, making a walk through the house first to check doors and texting Alex at the gate for an update, before he turned out all the lights.

Nikolai went through his nighttime routine in his room slowly, his mind drifting through the memories of the evening. Elliot’s delicious food, his happy smile, his soft laughter.

It was easy, being with Elliot.

When Nikolai had first brought him here, he’d imagined the experience to be annoying at best. Nikolai had never been one to share his space. He’d been alone since he’d moved out of his father’s house. Even with the small amount of dating he’d done over the years, he’d never invited anyone to stay over. Maybe he’d never felt like he could fully trust them, regardless of the background checks Meredith had done.

Now he was thinking about his house returning to silence when Elliot left. To wake up without the smell of breakfast in the air. Without any sounds of Elliot moving around in the kitchen. Without seeing his shy smile when Nikolai coaxed him out of his uncertainty…

And Nikolai hated every bit of that picture.

When Nikolai finished brushing his teeth, he found himself at Elliot’s partially-open door.

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