Page 153 of Pistols and Plush Toys

So maybe it wasn’t just the table Elliot was dressing up tonight.

When Elliot got back to the kitchen, he texted Nikolai that dinner would be ready in five and then took down the nicestbowls in the cabinet to start ladling in meat, vegetables, and broth.

The chanakhi was piping hot and smelled amazing. He hoped—hopedthis was a fair reproduction of Nikolai’s grandmother’s food. Elliot had nothing to taste test it against, so he could only hope he’d done it justice.

As he brought the steaming bowls to the kitchen table, he heard the sound of Nikolai’s heavy tread coming closer.

Anxiety warred with excitement in his chest. Time for the moment of truth.

“Surprise time?” Nikolai asked as he strode into the room. “Smells very good.”

“Yeah,” Elliot said, nerves getting the better of him as he took his seat. Nikolai sat across from him as usual, and Elliot watched Nikolai’s brows rise in interest as he saw the bowl of stew.

Elliot licked his lips, and when their eyes met, he forced the words out. “S-so, um. I kind of maybe messaged Meredith, and asked her if it was possible to check your grandmother’s things for recipes. Only if it was safe!” Elliot added the last part quickly. “And, um, there was a recipe book. Which is being mailed here, but it’s going to take a while. But I-I got pictures of the recipes and Gerard translated them and, um, it’s a little difficult because we don’t have her exact butcher or brand of margarine, but I… I did my best to recreate her chanakhi.”

He was winded when he finished. Elliot was proud of what he’d done, but uncertainty was creeping in now. He wanted Nikolai to like this, but Elliot had taken a risk, both in asking for the recipes and then going ahead and creating one.

Nikolai stared at him when he finished. And stared at him, andstared at him.

“If… if you don’t like it–” Elliot wavered. “Then—”

“Don’tlikeit?” Nikolai cut in incredulously. “I–” he stopped, swallowed hard. “You make ???????? recipe?”

There was a tenderness to the way he asked the question, like even putting it into words was hard. Like Nikolai couldn’t believe someone would do something of such magnitude for him.

“Yeah,” Elliot said softly. “I… I wanted to do this for you.”

He watched Nikolai swallow, the hard lump moving down his throat.

“You…” Nikolai looked back down at the bowl in front of him, like he couldn’t believe it. “How did you… there were recipes?”

“Yeah,” Elliot said. “Meredith’s… contact found a recipe book.”

Nikolai blinked down at the bowl and then back up Elliot. “This is… I’m sorry I’m not having words. I’m…” Nikolai took a deep breath. “This means very much to me. Thank you.”

Elliot’s mouth was dry, his own hands clasped tightly in his lap. “I hope it’s… good,” he said.

Nikolai nodded and picked up the spoon.

Elliot held his breath as Nikolai dipped the spoon in, scooping up vegetables and lamb and broth, and brought it to his mouth. He watched, attention rapt, as Nikolai’s eyes slipped shut.

There was a hanging pause. Elliot bit his lip so he wouldn’t speak, so he wouldn’t ask. He wanted to know, but this was for Nikolai, and he didn’t want to badger him. He wanted to give Nikolai this moment.

Nikolai chewed and swallowed and then set the spoon back in the bowl, his eyes opening. They found Elliot’s immediately, and Elliot didn’t think it was his imagination there was more glossiness there.

“?????? ???? ???????,” Nikolai said, voice rough.

Elliot didn’t understand the Russian, but he did recognize the word that Nikolai used for his grandmother.

“Is it okay?” He asked hesitantly.

“Is perfect,” Nikolai said, voice rough. “Like ???????. I can’t believe… how?”

Perfect.

The giddy excitement fully took the place of Elliot’s usual anxiety.

“It was a group effort,” Elliot said. “Meredith got me the recipes and then Gerard translated them for me.”

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