[ Man, even if Sam couldn't feel the guy getting emotional over potatoes and chili, he could still see it. Might as well not even bother trying to deny it.
Sam doesn't call him on it, though. He passes Shiro by on his way to the other microwave, and bumps his shoulder playfully against Shiro's - the not metal side - as he moves. ]
It's cool, I know how it is. I damn near wept over the first hot dog and soft pretzel I had when I got back home for the first time after being deployed.
I honestly don't even remember what a pretzel looks like.
[Call it a combination of however long they were on the Kerberos mission, the year in space prison, and the weeks, maybe months, afterward.]
[Those thoughts flick through his head, briefly, hovering for only a moment, before he grimaces, padding over to the microwave to assess the damage. Sam's nudge gets a glance and the barest glimpse of a smile.]
Nah, come on, don't tell me that. That's a damn tragedy, now I'm gonna have to personally undertake this mission. Re-introducing you to good food.
[ And he's only partly teasing. Well. He sounds like he's all teasing, but nah, he's damn serious. It's gonna start with chili and baked potatoes, apparently, and he stabs two of them a couple of times with a fork before setting them in the microwave. ]
Yeah, they're still bread. The original kind, anyway, now they've got all this gourmet pretzel shit that I can't make any sense of half the time.
You could try anyway, but yeah, I got the same feeling. Most of the time I try to be as honest as possible, anyway.
[ Or bury his secrets in so many truths that no one suspects he's hiding anything, but same thing. It still means he tries to be as honest as he can.
Shiro hovering over his shoulder doesn't bother him - he'd gotten used to it, too, living at the Avengers compound. He just adjusts a little to let Shiro into his space. ]
You got me. I saw a spinach and feta cheese one once, but I didn't have any plans to try it.
[ Sam gives him a sloppy salute - or at least, his attempt at a sloppy salute, which is still pretty damn sharp. Hard to take the military out of him, after all.
But that's something they have in common, again. Sam's never been that kind of person either.
He still lets out a groan at that wide eyed blink, eyes gleaming and smile teasing even as he points his spoon accusingly at Shiro. ]
Yeah, in a salad or on a flatbread or something, not a pretzel. Come on, man, don't do this to me. We got a great thing going here, don't hop on the gourmet pretzel train.
[And before that, anything. He doesn't even know what it was he'd had to feed himself. If it had been anything to remember. Maybe there's a reason for his lack of memory.]
[He shrugs, and it's helpless, weary.]
Even overcooked fish sticks sound like heaven, if I'm being honest.
[There is cheese in the white fluff of hair dangling in his eyes. So, of course, he does the only reasonable, mature thing -- he flicks it right back at Sam.]
[Hey, it worked with Allura.]
Good luck. You've got more than a year of astronaut food and space rations to deal with.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
no subject
Sam doesn't call him on it, though. He passes Shiro by on his way to the other microwave, and bumps his shoulder playfully against Shiro's - the not metal side - as he moves. ]
It's cool, I know how it is. I damn near wept over the first hot dog and soft pretzel I had when I got back home for the first time after being deployed.
no subject
[Call it a combination of however long they were on the Kerberos mission, the year in space prison, and the weeks, maybe months, afterward.]
[Those thoughts flick through his head, briefly, hovering for only a moment, before he grimaces, padding over to the microwave to assess the damage. Sam's nudge gets a glance and the barest glimpse of a smile.]
They're still bread, right?
no subject
[ And he's only partly teasing. Well. He sounds like he's all teasing, but nah, he's damn serious. It's gonna start with chili and baked potatoes, apparently, and he stabs two of them a couple of times with a fork before setting them in the microwave. ]
Yeah, they're still bread. The original kind, anyway, now they've got all this gourmet pretzel shit that I can't make any sense of half the time.
no subject
[Or going to work.]
[Also don't mind him if he peers over your shoulder, Sam. He's used to just sort of lurking behind clusters of people while they huddle around tech.]
Gourmet pretzel... How does that work?
no subject
[ Or bury his secrets in so many truths that no one suspects he's hiding anything, but same thing. It still means he tries to be as honest as he can.
Shiro hovering over his shoulder doesn't bother him - he'd gotten used to it, too, living at the Avengers compound. He just adjusts a little to let Shiro into his space. ]
You got me. I saw a spinach and feta cheese one once, but I didn't have any plans to try it.
no subject
[For his part, Shiro's just not that kind of person. He's always been open as possible. People bouncing around in his head aside.]
[Sorry, Sam. That gets a wide-eyed blink from him.]
That... that sounds really good, actually.
no subject
But that's something they have in common, again. Sam's never been that kind of person either.
He still lets out a groan at that wide eyed blink, eyes gleaming and smile teasing even as he points his spoon accusingly at Shiro. ]
Yeah, in a salad or on a flatbread or something, not a pretzel. Come on, man, don't do this to me. We got a great thing going here, don't hop on the gourmet pretzel train.
no subject
[And before that, anything. He doesn't even know what it was he'd had to feed himself. If it had been anything to remember. Maybe there's a reason for his lack of memory.]
[He shrugs, and it's helpless, weary.]
Even overcooked fish sticks sound like heaven, if I'm being honest.
no subject
And that somehow is by throwing a handful of grated cheese at Shiro. ]
Traitor. This is just a challenge, you know, now I'm gonna have to remind you what good food is so you can be appropriately discerning.
no subject
[There is cheese in the white fluff of hair dangling in his eyes. So, of course, he does the only reasonable, mature thing -- he flicks it right back at Sam.]
[Hey, it worked with Allura.]
Good luck. You've got more than a year of astronaut food and space rations to deal with.