Although Football, the big machop bouncer at Fight Club, is technically the one that lets Steve Palchuk through the door to the quiet and currently closed bar and a pair of Hawlucha are the ones who guide him towards the back, Steven Durante is there at the bottom of the stairs to greet him.
"Hey, mijo," he says, with a fond smile. "We're making sausage sandwiches for lunch--Thace is finishing the assembly just now. We figured we'd eat and talk first, then go down to the pit to practice. Scorpia should be over around five or so in order to start prep for tonight--you can stick around if you want and we'll make sure you get supper at some point too."
Although it's Steven (and Thace) he's here to see, his eyes don't seem to stop searching even when the Hawluchas have led him to his host. It's only at the mention of Scorpia his eyes snap to Steven, and his attempt not to look disappointed is poor at best.
"Oh. Yeah. I might stick around."
It's an attempt at a casual tone anyway. At the very least his attention is actually on Steven now. It's not a though he didn't want to see him. It's just he's not an attractive woman who could probably break him with one arm.
Lunch with his two uncles does sound nice though. He looks a little more relaxed knowing they aren't jumping straight into fighting. It means he doesn't have anything to prove. Yet.
Since he's been home and back, Steven probably could break him with two arms (Thace would only need one), but point taken.
"Not hotdogs," Steven says with a shake of his head as he ushers Steve up the stairs. "Italian sausage, cooked in tomato sauce, with lots of melted cheese and buns that were brushed with garlic butter." And indeed, as they get further up the stairs towards the open door just past the landing, the smells of both garlic and tomato sauce begin to fill the air. "I guess you'd call them a glorified meatball sub? But they're smaller. We're making a bunch, so have as many as you'd like."
Steve lets himself be ushered up the stairs, trying to catch a whiff of the sausages once they reach the landing. It definitely smells better than anything he’s ever cooked up himself. His stomach growls as he inhales the scent. He’s very glad they aren’t waiting until after fighting to eat now.
“Woah...” he says in awe, following his nose towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna eat so many of those.”
Thace is chuckling as he sets the first platter of the sandwiches down on the table set for three. "I made an accurate estimate of how many we'd need, I see. I'm glad you came, Steve."
It's a very good feeling to know he's feeding Steve together with Steven. It's a small thing, but rewarding.
Steven's not far behind Steve, a warm smile on his face. "I'm glad too," he says. "Do you want anything to drink? Milk? Juice? Soda? Water? No alcohol until the bar opens tonight, I'm afraid. We all need clear heads this afternoon."
"It smells so good," Steve gushes enthusiastically, almost helping himself to one before remembering that's rude. If this weren't Steven and Thace he most likely would have gone ahead and taken it anyway, but he has more respect for them than he does most.
He sits back, folding his arms to resist the temptation.
"Soda's fine. Do you guys have limes?" Because soda's just better with lime, and if they're already having fancy subs they might as well have fancy soda to go with it.
Thace chuckles and pushes the platter toward Steve on his way to the fridge. "Go on; eat your fill."
He pulls out soda and a pitcher of water with a few berries floating in it for flavor. "I think we might have some limes for bitter poffins."
After a few moments more searching he comes up with a whole lime and starts cutting it into wedges. A couple go into the pitcher of water which he pours for himself and the rest he puts on a plate near Steve.
"Water's fine," he says, with a soft smile for Thace, pulling out a chair for him at the table. "Grab some napkins from on top of the fridge too while you're over there, querido? Just in case something spills."
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backdated to 1/12
"Hey, mijo," he says, with a fond smile. "We're making sausage sandwiches for lunch--Thace is finishing the assembly just now. We figured we'd eat and talk first, then go down to the pit to practice. Scorpia should be over around five or so in order to start prep for tonight--you can stick around if you want and we'll make sure you get supper at some point too."
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"Oh. Yeah. I might stick around."
It's an attempt at a casual tone anyway. At the very least his attention is actually on Steven now. It's not a though he didn't want to see him. It's just he's not an attractive woman who could probably break him with one arm.
Lunch with his two uncles does sound nice though. He looks a little more relaxed knowing they aren't jumping straight into fighting. It means he doesn't have anything to prove. Yet.
"What did you say you were making? Hotdogs?"
no subject
"Not hotdogs," Steven says with a shake of his head as he ushers Steve up the stairs. "Italian sausage, cooked in tomato sauce, with lots of melted cheese and buns that were brushed with garlic butter." And indeed, as they get further up the stairs towards the open door just past the landing, the smells of both garlic and tomato sauce begin to fill the air. "I guess you'd call them a glorified meatball sub? But they're smaller. We're making a bunch, so have as many as you'd like."
no subject
“Woah...” he says in awe, following his nose towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna eat so many of those.”
no subject
It's a very good feeling to know he's feeding Steve together with Steven. It's a small thing, but rewarding.
no subject
no subject
He sits back, folding his arms to resist the temptation.
"Soda's fine. Do you guys have limes?" Because soda's just better with lime, and if they're already having fancy subs they might as well have fancy soda to go with it.
no subject
He pulls out soda and a pitcher of water with a few berries floating in it for flavor. "I think we might have some limes for bitter poffins."
After a few moments more searching he comes up with a whole lime and starts cutting it into wedges. A couple go into the pitcher of water which he pours for himself and the rest he puts on a plate near Steve.
"What would you like, Steven?
no subject