Appetizers (S,R)

He thought he could be mishearing at first when she knocked the first time. But then he heard her knock again, four soft taps that he still had thought was the wind for a moment. Checking first that he had the books he’d picked up at Stella’s request still on his desk, he went to the door to let her in.

She was beautiful. He’d known Stella for a few years, but he’d never seen her like this. She was standing outside wearing a blue dress with white polka dots on it. It was relatively modest, showing just a hint of cleavage. Despite being covered her chest was still emphasized by a ribbon tied between her chest and stomach, letting the fabric cling to her more easily than the baggy hoodies and sweatpants she usually wore. She had her arms and ankles exposed, something that wouldn’t be a big deal on anyone but Stella.

He realized he’d been staring too long. She was still offering him a weak smile as she stood at his doorstep, but it was clear that she didn’t know what to do with the attention. “You look really nice.” He offered.

“Thanks.” There was a pause. “May I come in?”

He opened the door and stepped aside to let her in. “What did you want to do today?”

“Mostly cooking and reading together. Could you show me the kitchen?”

“Yeah, it’s right over here.” He walked her down the hall to the kitchen, just across from the closet. They went in together and he watched her shoulders untense as she looked around. “She borrowed my appliances again, that’ll make things easier. I’m going to use this sink, go wash your hands in the bathroom and come back.”

He was caught off guard by her sudden confidence but did as he was told. Quickly washing up, he returned to the kitchen and saw Stella tying a white apron at the same spot as where her dress was tied, twisting her fingers to form the knot without needing to look down. She had a black apron ready for him, and as he managed to tighten it around his own waist she asked him: “What sort of cooking experience do you already have?”

“I can make breakfast for myself. I can throw together a sandwich. I think I’m about average for a guy.”

She gave him a look. “Breakfast is one meal of the day. Lunch is…good enough I suppose, but what are you doing for dinner for the six nights a week that you're not at my place?”

“I’ve lived all my life in one big city or another. My mom gave Hel some lessons, but I was too immature for them at the time. Since then I’ve either had one of the cooks Hel hired, the college cafeteria, or I’d go to some restaurant in the area.”

“We’ll fix that today. How do you feel about making pie?”

“I can give it a try, I guess. Should we run to the dining hall for supplies?”

She shook her head before bending down and opening one of the lower cabinets. “If my suspicions are correct, we won’t need to.”

“I already looked down there, it’s just coffee beans and the popcorn machine.” But to his surprise, she pulled out salt and and a sack of flour, before turning to the fridge and getting some butter ready. “How did you do that?”

“The dining hall kitchen has the same magic, Genet explained it to me a few days ago. It has whatever ingredients you’re looking for. I don’t know whether you used the popcorn or the coffee first, but it was probably there the second time because you expected it to be.” She was talking without looking at him, just pulling more ingredients. She turned to him with a glass measuring cup and held it out to him. “Can you fill this with ice water?”

“Sure.” In the time he’d taken to fill it, she’d taken a chipped red mixing bowl with a hairline crack down one side out of the cabinets and was mixing the butter and salt into the flour. “What do you want me to do with it?”

She showed him the inside of the bowl, where she was whisking the three dry ingredients together. “If you can slowly trickle that in, pour a little ahead of wherever I am. We many not need the whole cup, I’ll let you know when it looks right.

He followed her instructions. She slowed down with him as he poured, and with how close together they were over the mixing bowl he found himself distracted. The apron protected her dress. It certainly covered more than the half-apron Genet had worn a few times. But from the side here, it had the same effect. The dress just fits her so well and…

No. I’m not even a round in. I can’t let my mind go into the gutter that quickly. We’re just baking.

Stella stopped her motions with the whisk and held up a hand for him to stop pouring as well. “That should be enough. The cold water will help it bind. We’ll portion it into thirds, then it’ll need to go into the fridge. Grab a section and shape it into a disk.”

Again, he did as she asked. They each took part of the dough and molded it, kneading it into place. Once they both had one disk ready she went to work wrapping both of them in plastic and setting them in the fridge. He finished the last one, handing it to her once she was ready for it. All three went into the fridge.

“Good job. Normally we’d want it to sit in there for at least two hours. But Genet’s made it a bit easier.” She opened the door to the fridge and pulled the dish with their chilled dough back out. “We’re going to use two of these for the top and bottom of a chicken pot pie for lunch, and then the last one will be for the pecan pie. That one is a bit easier, so I can guide you through it while I work on lunch.

They spent the next twenty minutes on their separate dishes. She’d give him instructions and advice as she chopped and diced the chicken and veggies. She was a surprisingly good teacher when she was more confident like this. Every so often as they were working side by side, she’d put the knife down and manually adjust how he was doing something. Eventually they were both done and ready to get their work into the ovens.

“We could use Genet’s magic to rush it like we did for the fridge, but I feel like it’s not the same.” She said as she took the filled pie mixture from Richard and carefully slid it into the oven. “Good work.”

“You were telling me what to do the whole time.” He deflected. “I can tell how you’re able to run Fence and Post now. How did you become so good at this?” As he waited for her response, he felt the mood in the room sag.

“My mom taught me a lot growing up. The kitchen was always the safest place at our house, so from the time I could hold a ladle she had me learning with her.” She tried to say it casually, but he heard the worrisome part.

“What were you trying to keep safe from?”

He waited. She didn’t respond.

“Stella?”

She flinched.

“I’m sorry, you don’t need to explain-”

“We should set some timers.” She interrupted him. “Dessert should take an hour in the oven, why don’t you set that one while I start mine? We should have an hour until lunch is ready.” After taking off their aprons, they set their timers and Stella asked to see what books he had picked out. After looking through the stack to see which books they might share interest in, they ended up going with a romantic fantasy book that Stella had seen good reviews for called An Ember in the Ashes. He sat down on the bed to read while she took his chair at the desk, both reading the same book quietly until they heard the timers go off.

***

Things felt normal again by the time lunch was ready. They’d set the pecan pie on the counter to cool for after dinner. They discussed the first third of the book that they’d read together and what they thought would be happening with the prophecy at the beginning of the story.

“I hope that he’s able to dodge it. He’d be miserable with that much power, and having to deal with the aristocrats.” Stella said as she was working on the third slice. The male lead was one of four men with a claim to the throne, but wanted nothing to do with it.

“I’m betting that he will. I don’t know how yet, but somehow falling in love with her is going to be his way out.”

“Hopefully. His mom’s already tried to kill her twice and we’re barely a hundred pages in.” She changed the subject. “Do you mind if I take the last piece?”

“Go ahead, I’m not super hungry.”

Stella dropped off her plate in the sink and took the whole pan where the pie had baked. “I wish we didn’t have to be here, but that might be the best thing about the island.”

“What is?”

She gestured back to the sink behind them. “Not having to do our own dishes. Between what we made it’d either be a full load in the dishwasher or at waiting an hour to let it soak before we tried to scrub it ourselves. I don’t mind doing the dishes as much as most of my staff seems to, but it still gets in the way of better things.”

“I see. I hadn’t thought about that.” He admitted.

“I’m sure you’ve been busy with other things.” Stella said softly. Taking a break from the pie, she ran her fingers through her long brown hair and slowly said. “Thank you for letting me keep things more mellow. I know that this is probably quieter than the rest of your dates, but I don't know if I'd be comfortable with more.”

Dick shook his head. “Stell, that’s perfectly fine. Today’s been nice. I honestly wish I could make a deal with Genet to send home anyone that didn’t want to be here.”

“T-thank you, that means a lot. May I give you a hug?” she gently requested, as if he might actually have a problem with that.

He pushed out his chair and stood up, coming to the side of the table so she could meet him there. She cautiously met him there, looking in his eyes as she tried to avoid talking herself out of it. On his part, he was doing his best not to overwhelm or intimidate her.

It’s fine. She tried to assure herself. I’ve known him for two years. She felt small, despite the height difference being barely four inches. It’s just a hug. She stepped forward and leaned into him, not letting herself be scared anymore.

Dick felt her embrace him, her arms wrapping tight around him as she melted into his chest. He could feel the heaviness of her chest and the slight crest of her stomach against him. As she held onto him, he could feel the tension release and her shoulders relaxed like when she’d stepped into the kitchen the first time. She sighed as she realized she had nothing to worry about.

Richard put his arms around her. He didn’t speak, didn’t move after he settled his hands on the middle back of her dress. He just held her firmly, doing what he could to let her steer things or end them when she was ready.

After his hands settled in place, he heard her breath hitch. He waited for her to say something, but no words came.

A breathy gasp escaped her. “Uhhhh.” She didn’t let go of him.

“Stella? Are you alright?” He questioned her. What’s happening?

Her words were staggered, though it didn’t sound like her usual stuttering. “I…I’m not sure if I’m ready for this.”

“Ready for what?” He asked, getting worried.

“Touching my- touching my butt like that.” She whimpered.

Richard frantically pulled away from her. “I wasn’t. Stella, I promise you that I wasn’t.”

“I-I know what I felt.”

“Please believe me.” Richard begged. He twisted to the side and reached backwards along his own back to demonstrate, brushing a spot a few inches below his shoulder blades. “This is the only spot I put my hands.”

“I-I trust you.” She promised softly. “But I know that I felt something.”

“Alright, so there was something.” He pulled one of the chairs on the side of the old kitchen table for her and sat down on his own. “Can you describe what it was like?”

“I-” She blushed. “I felt your hands dip down. I knew you started where you showed me, but from my side they slid down my back so you could touch my butt. It felt like you were kneading into m-my butt like it was the dough we were working on earlier.”

“I see. Again, I promise that wasn’t something I knew was going on. Is there anything that you can think of that could be causing you to feel something that isn’t really there? Maybe something on the island?”

Something that isn’t really there… Stella lifted her head back up as she realized what it was. “I upgraded my first transformation yesterday. I didn’t know what to expect from it, but it was supposed to make it easier to control my mood and ‘replace the emotional side effects with physical ones’. I guess that’s what this is.”

Is it safe to touch her at all then? I don’t want to make her feel like I’m avoiding her. “I’m glad we know at least.”

Stella nodded, rubbing at the faux pink fur case on her phone. “Would you mind if we went into the bathroom together to test it?”

He nodded, not wanting to upset her, but not wanting to run afoul of the transformation either. Other than Luna, Hel, and of course Felicia, he was pretty sure he’d managed to avoid interacting with any of the transformations so far. “I’ll do what I can to help, but I’ll let you take the lead and you just tell me what you want me to do.”

So he followed her into the bathroom. Stella directed him to stand in front of the sink’s mirror with her. “So when you’re ready, I just want you to put your hands where you said you had them and pull me close. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Richard embraced her, as he had before. He took her just at the small of her back and pulled her close. As he was pulling her in she twisted her head to be able to look into the mirror, while he intentionally turned the opposite way. They both waited for what would happen.

As in last time, he felt her gasp when it started. Stella began to moan into his ear, her breath catching and becoming haphazard. He expected her to stop him there.

It hadn't come yet. She continued to moan, and he felt her chest quiver against him. Despite the purpose behind why he was doing this, he felt his manhood start to rise. Not right now…

If she noticed his growth pressing against her, she gave no sign of it. She was still moaning and gasping lewdly, and he feared their experiment may have gone too far for her.

He let her go, watching her eyes to make sure she was alright as she caught her breath. “I’m sorry, I should’ve ended that earlier. Are you alright?”

She nodded. “It was important to make sure we knew how it worked. Just to make sure, we’ve only gone over clothes. Would you be able to try holding my hand?”

Richard took her hand, hoping it would calm her down after what she’d just gone through. They looked at each other for a minute, then two minutes, as they waited for it to kick in. Nothing supernatural happened, the two just looked at each other as Stella’s breath slowed.

“At least there’s that.” Richard said. “I’m sorry for what happened. I just want to get back to the easy, mellow day you wanted. You head back to the bedroom and continue reading, I’ll get the last of the dishes put away and I’ll join you afterwards.”

She nodded, a bit more hesitant than he’d expected at the offer of normalcy. Stella laid down at the far end of the bed instead of the chair she’d been using, which mildly surprised him when he came back in. But he went back to his spot where he’d been reading, and quietly went back to his book intending to give her the peace she deserved.

That was how the rest of the afternoon passed. Every so often she’d feel her hands get clammy and wipe them against the dress Helena had given her. Feeling her own hands against her legs, she kept getting distracted, finding herself staring at his hands before she realized what was happening and went back to her book.

But inevitably something would lead her back to staring at his hands again.