Page 33 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Elliot stayed quiet as Nikolai dried his hands and reached again for one of the knives. He got a glimpse of a hanko on the knife, and wished he were allowed to get closer to identify thatstamp mark on the metal. He knew why Nikolai wasn’t letting him handle knives, he did, and he wasn’t about to try to argue. Not when he was only just allowed to use the kitchen at all.

He wondered what it would be like to use Nikolai’s knives for cooking though. If they were as sharp and smooth as the ones Elliot had gotten the chance to use at Olive & Plate and Melrose. Before he’d met Mattia, Elliot had been saving up to buy himself his own dream set of knives.

After Mattia…

“Anything I’m needing to know about cutting them?” Nikolai asked.

“Oh,” Elliot said, startling.Stupid, stupid.He’d just been standing there, staring at the knife rack.Not suspicious at all.“Yeah, um, cut them into quarter inch slices? A-and if you could aim for uniform sizes so they all cook the same.”

Nikolai nodded and got to work. Elliot made himself turn back to the rest of the groceries, but monitored the first few cuts out of the corner of his eye.

He needn’t have worried, he realized immediately. Nikolai lacked the expertise that came with training, but he was adept with a knife. He chopped carefully but evenly, one slice after another.

Elliot shook his head and went to preheat the oven.

Once that was done, he opened up the cabinets one by one until he found the one with the baking sheets. He pulled one out and set it on the counter, then pulled the brand new box of parchment paper out of one of the grocery bags and lined the tray.

“Um—” he started, glancing back over at Nikolai.

Nikolai stilled his knife work and looked up. “Yes?”

Standing there in the well-lit kitchen with his sleeves rolled up, Nikolai looked… somehow more approachable, even though his expression was still stern. Maybe because Elliot wasused to serious expressions in the kitchen, but Nikolai looked less like he was angry and more like he was just giving Elliot his full focus.

Nikolai was being kind to him, allowing Elliot to cook here, even if he didn’t trust Elliot around the knives, and it suddenly struck Elliot in that moment how handsome the man was with his well-defined forearms on display and his ice-blue eyes giving Elliot his full attention regarding something Elliot loved so much.

“Bowls?” Elliot stammered, face flushing as he averted his eyes. He had no business thinking Nikolai was handsome, and not only because Elliot wasn’t here of his own free will. Elliot was with Mattia. He shouldn’t be looking at—at anyone. The few times Mattia thought that Elliot’s eyes had wandered—

“Big ones or small ones?” Nikolai asked.

“Oh, um,” Elliot glanced back up. “One big, for seasoning the potatoes, and a small one to mix the dip.”

Nikolai pointed to two cabinets. Elliot hurriedly turned away to grab them, then busied himself with going through the spice drawers to pull out the ones he needed. By the time he was done assembling the seasoning and had pulled the rest of the ingredients out of the grocery bags, Nikolai had finished cutting up all the potatoes.

Elliot gave them a quick starch and seasoning in the big bowl while Nikolai hand-washed and dried the knife, before hanging it back up. After Elliot arranged the potatoes on the baking tray, he slid it inside the preheated oven and set the timer.

“What is now?” Nikolai asked. He was leaning against the counter, watching.

For a second, it felt like Elliot was back at a restaurant, teaching one of the new staff. He started narrating what he was doing automatically.

“So the aïoli is pretty simple,” he said, going over to where he had the small bowl and the rest of his ingredients set up. He reached for the mayonnaise and then paused. “You’ve never had it before, have you?”

“No.”

Elliot nodded. “So I’ll make a small batch in case you don’t like it.”

Nikolai frowned. “Do you like it?”

“Wh-what?”

Nikolai waved a hand in the direction of the oven. “Is not just me who will be eating potatoes. Unless you don’t like it?”

“Oh,” Elliot said, nonplussed. “No, I um, I like this recipe.”

“Then you make enough so we both have plenty if I’m like,” Nikolai said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” Elliot said again. “Okay.”

There were measuring cups, but Elliot had made this enough that he didn’t need it. He added things to the bowl, talking through each ingredient automatically, as Nikolai looked on. Once he’d mixed it all together, he grabbed a clean spoon to take a taste.

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