Being the experienced chef he is, do you think when leo accidentally burns himself he just barley feels it anymore because today my mother was cooking and fully just touched the pan to see if it was hot enough. Said “ouch. Yup it’s ready.” And proceeded and it made me think of our sunshine🥲🥲.
I am a restaurant worker, so I DEFINITELY relate to Leo. My fingers are so used to touching hot things, just like Leo. It's an acquired skill. Although, Finn and Logan would say that LEO is hot and they touch him, so ayo, I guess they have mad skills, too (shrugs).
Enjoy Chef Knut and his concerned, smitten side kicks/food critics! All credits to @lumosinlove !!
P.S. I am almost done writing all the prompts I've been sent so feel free to send more my way!!
“Baby?” Finn called from their bedroom.
“Yeah?”
“You need any help in there?”
“Nope! You go get Lo, I'll be fine!”
Leo hummed to himself and stirred the pot where the stew was cooking. Lamb, potatoes, leeks, onions, carrots, spices- the smell wafted through the air as he opened the lid to check on it. Satisfied, he grabbed a towel to protect his hands and placed the Dutch oven in the oven. A gasp sounded behind him.
“Baby, careful!”
Leo furrowed his eyebrows at Finn, who was now standing on the other side of the counter in checkered pants and a sweater, eyes wide behind his glasses. Leo knocked the oven door closed with his hip. “What, sweetheart? I'm fine.”
Finn shook his head and came around to join Leo. “Your hands, Le. You're gonna burn them, baby.”
Leo looked at him in confusion as Finn played with his fingers. “No, it's not hot. I’m okay, I used a towel.”
Finn scoffed. “Yeah, a towel. That's thinner than oven mitts.” He brought Leo's hands up to kiss them hard, then looked with pleading eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” He brushed a curl out of Leo's eyes. “I love these hands too much.”
Leo just smiled softly at him. “You're sweet.” He squeezed Finn's fingers and leaned in for a kiss. “But I'm okay, I promise. I don't notice it, sweetheart, I'm used to it.”
Finn narrowed his eyes skeptically but huffed, kissing Leo hard on the mouth. “I'm going to pick up baby from the Rangers hotel.” He kissed Leo's cheek and went to grab his shoes. “Be careful please. No burnt boyfriends- room temperature only.”
Leo laughed and turned back to the counter, where he was working on shaping some bread dough. “I'll try my best, sweetheart. Love you.”
“Love you!” Finn called, then he was out the door.
Leo sighed happily, then went back to his bread.
***
An hour later, the front door opened and Finn and Logan came in with a flurry of laughter and chatter. Finn had Logan's bag in one hand and Logan's own hand In his other, and they both stopped suddenly when they saw Leo, who was back to stirring the stew on the stove as it warmed up again. His bread was staying warm in the oven, ready to come out any minute, and he'd set their counter with plates, utensils, and a few candles. Logan roved his eyes over it with a pleased smile, then unlaced his fingers with Finn's to go to Leo.
“Salut,” he said contentedly, wrapping his arms around Leo's neck and drawing him into a kiss.
“Hi, honey,” Leo replied happily. Logan was kissing him in hard, happy draws of his lips, and he held him there for a moment. When they pulled away, Logan buried his face in Leo's chest, and Leo chuckled. “How are you?”
“Bien,” Logan sighed. “I'm so good.” He pulled away and reached up to scratch at Leo's scalp. “What are you making?”
“Stew and bread, honey. It's done cooking, just reheating the stew and keeping the bread warm in the oven.” He gave Logan another quick kiss and turned to the pot. “Wash your hands, sweethearts, and I'll plate it up.”
While they washed their hands, Leo took the lid off the pot and grabbed their bowls to be filled with soup. He dipped a finger in to test the temperature, hummed satisfactorily, then handed the bowls to each of his boys.
“Looks good, Le,” Finn said.
“Nice and hot, honey, so be careful.”
“Merci, mon amour,” Logan said. He kissed Leo's shoulder as he passed. “Need any help?”
Leo shook his head and kissed Logan's temple. “No, I'll be fine. Just going to cut up the bread.”
He shooed them off to sit at the counter, then opened the oven to take out the loaves. They were warm and had a nice crust, and steamed as he cut into them. He examined the crumb and nodded in approval, slicing some more to place in the basket he had ready with honey butter. He was almost done, ready to sit and eat, when a noise sounded from behind him.
“Leo, fais attention,” Logan said earnestly. “You're going to burn yourself, chérie.
Finn's fork clattered against his plate. “That's what I said!”
Leo laughed and placed the basket in front of them. “Honestly, boys, I don't feel it. It's not that hot.”
Finn narrowed his eyes and reached for a piece of bread, flinching when his fingers made contact. “Ouch!” he gasped, sucking his finger into his mouth. “Le, that's hot, you're crazy.”
“Ouais, and you dipped your finger in the stew to test it, and it's hot, too,” Logan pointed out. “You're going to hurt yourself.”
Leo smiled at them and rolled his eyes playfully. “If you two spent as much time in the kitchen as I do, then you might build up a tolerance to pain as well.” He sighed and walked around the counter, settling on a stool on the other side of Logan. They were both watching him closely. “Besides, I'd rather have hot food and wait for it to cool than have cold food. That's what my mama always said.” He took a spoonful of stew and popped it into his mouth. “Hey, this is good.”
“Ouais, but it's hot,” Logan said.
Leo winked at him. “You’re hot.”
Finn guffawed out a laugh. “He's got a point.” He leaned over and bit Logan's shoulder. “You're hot, and we eat you. Very tasty.”
Logan raised his eyebrows, but Leo could see the blush dusting his cheeks. “You're so weird.” He kissed each of their cheeks. “I love you.”
“Love you,” Leo replied. He felt floaty. “Now, c'mon, eat while it's still hot.” He grinned mischievously at Finn. “Then we can eat Logan.”
Leo laughed at their sudden eagerness to finish their stew and reached for a piece of bread. They both burned their tongues, humming in appreciation anyways, but Leo didn't care if it was the worst stew they'd ever had, or a Michelin star dish. They ate it up eagerly and he watched them with his chin in his palm. He was as warm as the supper in front of them and basked in the sunshine.
Yes, Leo decided, scooping his last spoonful. It was a good stew.