MCA #0, Sunday night

[grenadesandohana]

Steve, as usual, had absolutely no idea where on the planet his mother was, and after half of a lifetime thinking she was dead...well, Mother's Day was kind of weird headspace for him to inhabit.

It had taken him three days, a half dozen favors, and Joe being squirrely for absolutely no reason before he had a phone number that he was 80 percent sure was his mother's. He texted her a quick Thinking about you and heard nothing for most of the day, which, well, even if it was his mom, completely tracked.

He shrugged it off and moved on (...mostly) and busied himself with a salad to go with the comfort food Danny was making himself tonight to get over not being in Jersey with his sisters and parents.

His phone dinged with an incoming text from an unknown number. No flowers?

At least he knew it was his mother?

Comments

[hatesparadise]

And Danny's relationship with his mother was much less fraught. And the kids were spending the holiday with Rachel, so... he was there to make sure Steve was okay. They both liked to think they were taking care of each other.

"Pasta's almost done," he called. It was carbs and cheese. So yes. Yes, it was comfort food.

[grenadesandohana]

Steve tossed the phone down with maybe a little too much vigor. "Sounds good."

[hatesparadise]

Oh, Danny was just stopping to look at him now. "Babe."

[grenadesandohana]

"I don't know why I expected anything different," Steve said. "And I didn't, really. I just--"

Wanted Doris to be an entirely different person.

[hatesparadise]

"C'mere," Danny said, turning the burner off so he could hug him.

[grenadesandohana]

Steve sighed and sank into the hug. "Sorry."

[hatesparadise]

"Don't be a putz," Danny muttered into his shoulder.

[grenadesandohana]

"Apparently I come by it naturally," Steve muttered back.

[hatesparadise]

"Sounds like you, yeah," he replied dryly. "C'mon. We're gettin' you stuffed and laying in bed for the rest of the night."

[grenadesandohana]

"That makes me sound depressing," Steve said.

[hatesparadise]

"Well, I'm not going hang gliding with you, so this is the compromise," Danny said, tapping him on the side as he passed to get the pasta drained.

[grenadesandohana]

"There's no middle between hang gliding and cocooning?" Steve asked.

[hatesparadise]

"Not with you, no," Danny replied with a grin.

[grenadesandohana]

Steve smiled reluctantly back. "Okay, that's fair."

[hatesparadise]

Danny made sure to kiss him on the cheek as he put the noodles in the sauce to finish the cooking there. Like a proper Italian American. "And I'm sure as hell not movin' after we eat, so..."

[grenadesandohana]

"Pretty sure we shouldn't hang glide after a big dinner," Steve agreed.

[hatesparadise]

"Ergo... cocoon."

You picked this man, Steve.

[grenadesandohana]

It was to talk Steve out of these family-inspired spirals.

"Will the cocoon have beer?"

[hatesparadise]

"Cocoon beer is on a case by case basis, but I could be convinced in this case," Danny said, tossing the pasta and sauce before killing the heat.

[grenadesandohana]

"Thank you," Steve said, picking up the salad and moving it to the table.

[hatesparadise]

Father's Day would be better, hopefully.

"Red or white with this?" Damny asked, bringing the whole pan to serve out of. Why dirty another dish?

Also, red or white of the fifteen dollar-est wine.

[grenadesandohana]

"Red," Steve said. "That way we don't have to care if it was chilled or not."

[hatesparadise]

"I like the way you think," Danny replied, going to grab it.

[grenadesandohana]

"In a way that requires the least amount of follow-up questions," Steve said.

[hatesparadise]

Danny snorted and popped the cork out. Because they were classy and didn't pick a screw top! This time.

"And it gets you eating faster."