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Summary
After an injury stops him working, a failing deckhand gets a new lease on life.
Series
- Part 10 of TweetFic
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"Saint Jude's Kitchen" by DictionaryWrites
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adoreable
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NOTES
1. his cheeks burn red[. . .]Rich was staring at him, his eyes slightly wide, so that the light colour of his eyes looked even lighter.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be sorry,” said Rich. “You’re smiling — I don’t think I’ve seen you smile since you broke that leg. Did you enjoy it?”
3. “Oh, fuck, okay, so there’s the bowties, farfalle, the conchiglie, that’s the shells — ”
Rich was smiling as he kept going. Jude tried not to think too much about it.
4. “It’s not like I could do this as a job,”[. . .]
“Why not?[. . .]you’re a terrible deckhand. You’re better at this.”
Jude laughed, kicked Rich with his good foot. “Did you really come sit with me[. . .]’cause it was busy?”
“I thought you were lonely,” said Rich quietly. “Like me.”
5. “Want me to stop feeding you?” Jude asked, feeling like he was on the edge of a cliff, and Rich scoffed.
“Never,” he said emphatically, and the cliffside feeling evaporated. “I just shudder to think what could have been if you’d taken woodcraft. I can’t eat a fucking wooden duck.”
Jude laughed, and when Rich grinned, Jude savoured the details of his smile.
6. “I’ve watched like two hundred pasta videos the past few weeks. More, maybe. It’s like… my new obsession.”
“That[. . .]is adorable. Possibly the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.”
7. “Want me to stop?” Rich asked quietly. He was leaning forward, his pale eyes moving back and forth as he studied Jude’s face.
Jude couldn’t make his mouth move. He shrugged.
Rich gave a very small nod, and kept stroking up and down his neck, his fingers moving through the back of Jude’s short-cropped hair and then back down between his shoulder blades. He quietly sighed at the pressure on the muscle.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
“We never have to do anything you don’t want to[. . .]Whatever you want, which includes nothing.”
“I don’t know how to be gay,” said Jude.
“Well, you didn’t know how to cook a month ago,” Rich pointed out, and Jude laughed.
8. “I don’t think you’re a coward. I think you’re repressed and inexperienced[. . .]The difference between the man I met in the pub, the man on his guard with a stranger, and the man in front of me now[. . .]is… not what I would have expected[. . .]I think you’re… shy. Anxious. I find it hard to tell what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, at times — but I get the impression, and correct me if I’m wrong, that you find it hard to tell the same in everyone else.”
Jude didn’t say anything. He felt like he could hear wind rushing in his ears.
9. “I didn’t say anything. I just… took it.” He hesitated, and then he shifted forward, pressed his face to the back of Rich’s neck[. . .]curled against his back. “Don’t you feel like I’m not worth it?” he asked quietly. “[. . .]Because I’m… fucked up, and weird, and repressed, and I don’t know anything. Not even that I’m not woke like you are, and say shitty stuff, but just that I don’t know… anything.”
“Jude,” Rich murmured.
“I’m not good at wanting you the way you want me[. . .]Not good at making you feel… wanted. It’s not fair.”
“I’m not grading your performance, Jude. You’re here: that’s enough.”
Jude slept like that, laid on Rich’s back, and when he woke up, he was holding him more solidly, his arms curled around him, holding Rich to his chest.
10. “We tell stories with food,” said Teo. “We remember the food we ate on different occasions[. . .]Food lets us share culture, community, family, friendship — it’s art, it’s science, it’s craft, it’s love.”
“Yeah,” agreed Jude.
“You don’t talk much,” said Teo. “Just like to appreciate things, huh?”
[. . .]“It’s… hard.”
“Talking?” asked Teo, raising his eyebrows.
“Yeah. I… I’m trying.”
“You think it’ll get easier? You’ll talk more the more you know me?”
[. . .]“I’m like… I’m like dough[. . .]I need — Time. Work. To warm up, to build, um, structure, with someone. But then I’m — Then I’m better. I think.”
Teo’s smile was full and genuine, and to Jude’s surprise, he didn’t feel excruciatingly humiliated, or like he wanted to die[. . .]
“My father is Captain Corey James Jupp.”
Teo’s smile froze a little, but it didn’t go away completely. He was still gentle when he talked to Jude, but it occurred to Jude that everyone knew Rich’s dad and always said good things about him, always talked about him like he was great, like he was amazing, like he was… good.
Most people didn’t really react to mentions of Jude’s dad like that.
11. “… You made the cups?”
[. . .]both of them had turned to stare at him now.
“Yeah,” said Jude, feeling that uncomfortable under-the-spotlight anxiety again[. . .]
“I thought you must have bought them,” his father said quietly, picking up the cup[. . .]Jude felt like dancing when he said, at length, “It looks good, Jude.”