juststeverogers | If the Lord ain't with them, at least don't let the Devil in [ for fightlikehell ]

"Canned spaghetti, vegetables. Oatmeal. Stuff that was familiar." Things that are cheap. Processed foods isn't a thing Steve knows is a problem, and buying anything but the absolute cheapest food was a hard habit to break. "I make enough off my commissions to get pretty much whatever but..." He shrugs weakly.

It takes him a moment to realize Matt doesn't see the gestures.

"Growing up when I did, it's been hard, learning that I can spend a little bit extra to get good stuff rather than just getting by." He's getting used to it slowly. "The yoga? It's not easy, but I like it. Some of the stuff is hard to do, with my scoliosis and the like, but I'm managing."

With the steak and potatoes cooking away on the stovetop, Steve takes a moment to wash his hands and pour himself a mug of coffee before digging into the fridge for the carton of eggs.

"Scrambled eggs okay?"

"Oh," his face can't stay neutral. He lost Matt at the idea of canned pasta. "I grew up on plenty of uh interesting meal choices. I can attest to how hard it is to break habits." And let's focus on the positive. "You got help. That's the best part."

Growing up when... jeez he is at least fifty to sixty years from Matt's present time. Talk about adapting skills. "Maybe we could practice together sometime. It's not about how flexible you are, just how it feels for you." Steve deserves good feelings physically or the inescapable good vibes of some yoga flow.

Matt pokes the steak and determines that it's not ready to flip. His method is chiefly reliant on smell and sound. Sometimes taste for better or worse.

"Scrambled is my favorite. It kinda ends up that way when I give it a try."

"You wouldn't mind?" Steve doesn't want to hold Matt back with his practices or training. But all Samus said was that he couldn't do it alone. She didn't say he couldn't do it with someone else now and again. "I'd appreciate it, then."

Matt's free hand gets a tap after a moment or two, and Steve nudges a mug of coffee prepared the way he likes it against said hand so he knows where it is.

"Coffee's up." Steve isn't terribly worried about how breakfast will taste. He has pretty low expectations, if we're being honest. Most anything tastes better than the stuff he grew up eating.

"Yeah I....haven't managed eggs that weren't scrambled, if we're being honest." Steve laughs at himself. "Glad you approve."

"Not a bit. I mean, maybe you could lead it so I know what you're most comfortable with if you're familiar with a routine or something. It won't have to be too long."

He pauses at the tap, the smell and feel of the cool porcelain mug reminds him how much he needs the stuff. "Ohh. How could I even forget?" Matt takes a sip. Already he's perking up a little more. He now flips the steak. "This reminds me I need to get a coffee machine or something." Based on smell this should go well. And when all else fails, there's salt, pepper and ketchup.

"I appreciate you asking." He laughs and shakes his head. "Scrambled just...brings out a good taste. Sometimes if I'm feeling ambitious I'll try and hard boil them."

"Miss Siri knows how to make really really good hard boiled eggs. I make those to put in salads. Makes eating a bowl of yard trimmings a bit more palatable." He's chuckling, but Steve doesn't sound like he really minds eating his vegetables.

The potatoes get a stir and then Steve's got a fork and is beating the ever loving bajeesus out of the eggs he has in a bowl. Once they are thoroughly beaten he adds a bit of half and half and gets back to work. Salt, pepper beat beat beat. Whew.

"Eggs won't take long. I'll start on them as soon as the potatoes are done." Steve sips at his own cup of coffee and smiles, watching Matt cook. Having someone else in the apartment with him is nice. It's hard to realize just how much he missed having someone to talk to over breakfast until there's company again. Steve's gaze slips back toward the tree, and the present left underneath yet.

He's so weak. Steve would be on his own anyway, with Bucky in the service. It shouldn't be an excuse. Why can't he be stronger? Something smells like it's getting a little too golden crispy, so Steve hurries back to the stove and stirs the potatoes again. Crispy outsides, fluffy insides--good to go. Onto a plate they go and Steve drops a pat of butter into the now-empty pan and swirls it before dumping the eggs in and starting on those.

"Admittedly breakfast is a good place to start learning to cook. Most stuff is pretty easy."

"She--" holy cow is he really talking like this? Matt smiles and shrugs but keeps going, "she really knows almost everything." Sometime he'll just have to come out and explain it. Until then there really is no need. "You could devil em too. I forgot. I can do that too. Not that impressive but tasty." Daredevil eggs.... that's his own personal joke right there.

The steak is coming along satisfactory. He asks for the salt rather than reaching for it. Some things just... don't quit. Steve is on Matt's list for people to properly explain his condition. It's not fair to keep the guy in the dark.

It takes a moment to realize that his company has fallen silent. Fixed still and half faced away, Matt can't exactly tell what it is that's got him in such a reverie. "Steve?" It's just a moment, only a handful of heartbeats and it's gone.

"So they tell me. I just... have been putting off learning. Weird how food is so accessible and at the same time whatever you make at home ends up to be more real? I prefer organic but my lifestyle has been grab and go."

Admittedly, Steve doesn't try to think about it too hard. It's nice fooling himself into thinking he's got company sometimes. "I've never really tried that. They're awfully good though. You'll have to show me." Nope, Steve is blissfully unaware of that joke, sorry Matt.

"I'm here." Steve assured Matt, voice quiet like it was when he called on the phone. "It feels like I'm back home, is all. With someone else helpin' out." He has to be stronger. Deep breath, Rogers. "People make a fuss over organic and non, but real honest most anything grown today is done better than how we had it, so I think folks worry too much." DDT was still a thing in his time, after all.

"You're welcome over here any time. I can pass off what I learn from Verity to you maybe? It'll help me learn better to try an' teach someone else."

Edited 2016-01-19 02:31 (UTC)

Well, truth be told where he's at not many people know blind Matt Murdock is the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Or newly christened Daredevil. "Gladly. Eggs are a go-to because they cook fast."

Physically here. Like Verity he can't imagine the path behind him closing completely. It's so unfair. And it seems that Steve has far more unfinished business. "You're helping me out, pal." Matt grins and gladly lets his blindness be the excuse to spare Steve some feelings.

"Well, sometimes worry too much. They're getting pretty good at manipulating chemicals. Sometimes you just can't get it out of taste..." for those sensitive to it. Ahem.

An open invitation? It feels like college again. Nelson and Murdock before they were self employed lawyers. "Sure... just be patient with me. I'm going to be a mess."

"Right? A healthy convenience food." Steve is in complete agreement of this. "Speaking of eggs, these are gonna be done pretty quick here. I'll grab plates and stuff so we can eat in the living room once we're done in here." Steve has a dining room table technically, but it's sort of a second art table at the moment.

Pal. Heh. That's right. He'd be getting so much shit if Bucky could see him right now.

"Hardly. You're the one who brought meat. Don't put yourself down." The spatula is still swishing around in the egg pan, but the glorious smell of the Maiyard Reaction is beginning to waft up from the egg pan. "Yeah taste can be tricky." Steve wrinkles his nose. "They ruined bananas. I couldn't even finish the small bunch I bought."

"Then you'll learn how to clean a kitchen as well as use it, Murdock." The pan gets pulled off the stove and the burner clicked off. "Eggs and potatoes are done. I'll start setting us up with dishes."

"Now if only there were more than trail mix or shakes." Ugh. Matt makes a face. His stomach is very much invested in eating everything that's cooking right now. He flips the stake. It is very close to being done. "Same with this. It shouldn't be all that pink. You okay with that?"

God only knows that Steve doesn't need some kind of foodborne something out of this.

"Bananas?" Now that's one thing he's never heard of. "What's wrong with bananas?"

Cleaning? Phfff. Matt scoffs before he chuckles. "I can do dishes." As though he can't do anything else. He can. "I'll be right behind you." With confidence he turns off his own burner.

"That's fine. We cooked everything all the way through when i was growing up." He doesn't have to worry about foodborne illnesses as much as he once did thanks to Samus, but it never hurts to be careful.

"That's because it happened in the 50s." Steve starts divvying up the eggs and potatoes. More for Matt than for himself. "I asked Miss Siri what they did to bananas. The kind I grew up on died off. Nowadays the only thing I can hope for is banana flavored things and candies. That's the only thing that still tastes right." And suddenly, the reason banana candy and flavored puddings tastes so different is explained perfectly.

"You'll learn." Steve isn't buying it, Matt. You showed up and cooked a steak, you can learn how to wipe down a counter. Sweeping, Steve can see might be a thing he needs to do on his own. He gathers up their plates and silverware before heading off to the couch. Then comes back for his coffee, and to get some napkins.

"Okay. Good. My friend back home, he is very particular. We had a cook out and I was banned from the grill." Not for burning himself. Though Foggy said he had 9-1 already in the phone just in case.

Bananas Matt has tasted and known all his life... do not taste like bananas. It's mind blowing. Also exceedingly upsetting that that's one more thing forever changed for his friend. "Oh... that's terrible. I had no idea."

Finally someone else that won't allow him to act like he's incapable of things. Kudos to you, Steve rogers. Matt finds a plate for the steak. Two big, delicious cuts. "Coming in hot." And carefully to where he remembers the table is.

"Picky friend? I know how that goes." Though Bucky was never as much picky as he was insistent that Steve should have nicer things for himself. A nice pipe dream, but they were barely paying rent. "If he's a good friend, wouldn't he know you're capable of grilling?" Chuckle. "Though I could see how it might have made some of the neighbors nervous."

Following Steve's voice to the couch shouldn't be much of a problem. Steve keeps his floors clear of clutter.
"It was a surprise." He admits, but shrugs. "But what can you do? I like plenty of other stuff." Just, not bananas. Traitor fruits.

"Sorry. I'd invite you to the dining room table but I've kind of got some stuff there right now." Does Steve sound nervous about that? Why would he. That doesn't make any sense. "This smells great, by the way. I'm glad you let me talk you into food."

"Only a little picky." Matt scrunches his nose at his own exaggeration. "I mean, he was almost a butcher so I'll give him that. He never liked to tell me I couldn't do things. Sometimes I think that he liked to see what I could do." Shrug. Foggy Nelson, everybody.

Careful steps because the plate is full and he doesn't want to mar any of Steve's things. On top of that, the full blind act doesn't need casualties. "So wait. They tasted better than what they tasted like now? That's what you mean?" Now he'll be left to wonder for the rest of his days about what true bananas tasted like.

"It's cool. I'll be careful." The nerves could be anything. Matt decides it might be the prospect of some real food in the living room. That makes plenty of sense. "I don't need much persuasion when it comes to food." All the training means he's got to pack it away. And living for the early years with a boxer he knows the importance of maintaining weight for muscle. All this is clearly not important in this context. Meal with a friend. And Matt is sure as hell not going to go out of his way to rub in any physical prowess where Steve is concerned the same way Steve would never flaunt his vision. Just how it should work in the world.

"...Bucky was the same." Matt's friend sounds like a keeper. Steve's careful to make sure that there's plenty of room for Matt to sit down with his food, and plenty of space on the coffee table for him to put it. Steve doesn't take up much room, thankfully.

"Mm. This beats the heck out of Cheerios." Not that Steve has a distaste for cereal, but sometimes a real cooked breakfast is just the right way to start the day. Eggs are cooked through, breakfast is a success! "It's kinda hard to get the motivation to cook all the time just for yourself. It's a lot of mess and a lot of work for a pretty lonely meal." No wonder take out and simple meals are the siren call of the bachelor.

"Having someone in your corner helps. Even if they drive you nuts." That's exactly what friendship is. And how pleasant that here in Nexus they've found a proxy. Matt can't ever be a Bucky Barnes and Steve can't be a Foggy Nelson, at least they're not alone.

"I'm a Honey Bunches of Oats or Kashi guy." Forks up! Matt can really appreciate Steve's knack for scrambled eggs. A big success. "Mmpmm." Give him a minute he's chewing. "You have to want left overs too."

A proxy. That's a good way to look at it. That's what Steve has been missing since arriving in the Nexus. not a replacement for Bucky, but at the very least a guy friend that understands him. As much as he likes Amelia, Verity, Samus and the rest...he's needed this. not being alone is so powerful a need.

"I'll have to try 'em." Steve likes the comfortable silence that settles over the pair while they inhale their breakfasts. Hey, gotta eat it while it's hot. That's half the point, right? When Steve's done he'll gather up his dishes and drop them off in the sink before heading over to his dining room table and picking something up to bring back with him. He waits until Matt is done and then sets what feels to be a piece of cardboard in Matt's lap.

"I'm not terribly good at it yet, but...tell me what you think." and as Matt 'skims' it over with his fingertips, he'll find that Steve has made the Brooklyn Bridge (2 dimensional sadly) out of match sticks, chopsticks, and other bits of wood he's split and shaved carefully into varying thicknesses to mimic the pieces of the infrastructure. "Tactile art. I bought a whole bunch of audio books on it and was testing them out to see if they were any good."

A proxy also means that every nuance of this new partnership is valid. No knowledge of Bucky other than what Steve has told Matt means he isn't trying to meet expectations. And Steve won't know the full bond of Nelson and Murdock without Matt letting on. Sometimes a man just needs a good buddy with or without the beer to go with it. No, Steve Rogers, you're not alone.

"I might have some more left. We'll do breakfast at my place soon. I'll even cook." He laughs at the thought of preparing cereal and presenting it in the same caliber as this spread. Inhaling is a good call. All the good stuff and hunger builds up pretty fast with the smells. Matt dabs his mouth and leans back as Steve clears the plates. "Thanks."

He freezes until the cardboard settles. "Sure," though he's not sure at all of what he's touching. Easy, carefully. The image comes through and a smile spreads over his mouth. "The Brooklyn Bridge." There are a lot of bridges in Manhattan but so few of them really stand out. "You did all of this yourself?" His surprise is in the execution not at all in the doubt of his friend's skill. "Jeez."

"You can tell?" Steve laughs and it sounds so relieved. He'd really been worried about whether or not the image would come clear through touch. It felt like a big mess when Steve tried to 'see' it after everything had set. "Thank god. I was so sure the thicknesses weren't distinct enough. The audio books are very easy to follow along with, I've just never done anything like it before."

It's taken him a lot longer than Steve would like to admit to get that done, too. Otherwise it probably would have been part of his Christmas gift. Whoops!

"I thought...you might appreciate something like that. When we first talked about art, you seemed kind of sad, so..." Steve shrugs. Pauses. "I just shrugged."

"Yeah, I can tell." Because there are only so many bridges worth recreating anyway. Matt still is appreciating the textures. How much time did this take anyway? "You did all this by hearing? Really?" It's something that Matt had never heard of before.

Ah well. Surprises are pretty grand too. Matt is not complaining at all.

"Appreciate it? This is amazing. I love it." Verity had taken him to a touchable art gallery but this is different, less abstract. Very specific indeed. Matt huffs a sigh at himself. "It just always seemed like something I was aware of but closed off to." And not something he meant to sound or seem sad about.

His smile is full blown at Steve describing a shrug. "Now I feel like I should try and make something for you." Maybe now would be a good time to stop avoiding origami. Steve would appreciate it in ways that no one else had.

"W...well. Not exactly." Steve flushes from embarrassment. "The techniques were described in the books. I chose what to make, but didn't allow myself a reference until I was done to check it. I...assume...they would have had students make something less...ambitious. But I wanted it to be home. Our home."

"The book spent a lot of time referencing touch. Pick something you can touch, feel, and really get an image of in mind as you work. Since I have use of my eyes...I decided to do something a bit more complex to make up for the unfair advantage. ...Don't ask me how many splinters I got, either." Too many. Far too many.

"I-if you want. We're already planning cooking, yoga, and bible study together, haha. I have to leave you some time for yourself!"

The heat of his face makes Matt's head tilt in that direction. Not the same as seeing. Just an awareness of the climate change, a sensation to flicker over his mind's eye and ripple like flames. Oh ho. There's Steve. He keeps the amusement to himself. "This really is terrific. You're an artist." For whatever that will mean out of a blind man's mouth, he means it. "Our home," he repeats softer, to himself.

"I hope it wasn't anything that's become fatal." Never underestimate the power of a horrifically bad splinter. Steve does not need those.

They do, don't they. You'd think they enjoy one another's company or something. "It's uh..." Matt smiles and rubs over an eyebrow. "It's nothing quite so sophisticated as this."

"...I'm glad you like it." Steve says quietly, picking at his shirt sleeve. It's something to distract from looking over at it again and agonizing over the mistakes he can see. "Anyway, the audiobooks are for you, if you want them. I didn't want to suggest it until I'd road tested them somewhat. If you don't like the CDs I'll keep them. I found them to be interesting for a change of pace."

"I can carry it over to your place so you can use your cane easier." Steve offers too, once he remembers that they're supposed to be doing something other than lazing about after their ambitious and successful Bachelor Breakfast. They haven't even gotten to the thing they were supposed to be doing. Not that there's a huge hurry, but Steve would feel awful if he forgot about it over the course of their conversation.

"Thanks again." No one has put in this degree of artistry or effort on Matt's behalf in such a way. "Now I have something to decorate the apartment that I can appreciate." Along with guests. "Oh...how about I'll take them and copy them?" Dear me, has anyone talked to Steve about how CDs can be replicated? Can he handle this knowledge?

Matt sighs happily and carefully sets the bridge to one side as he pats his knees. "If uh you're feeling lazy like I am we can have study before heading out." Just what happens when you have a delicious home made meal. No one is judging you, Steve. Especially Matt.

"Anytime." And really, when Steve says it, it's easy to get the sense that he truly means it. This is a guy who will get up at 3am to fish you out of a dumpster. Or die trying. Possibly the latter! Wow what a specific example to come to mind. "...You can do that?" Oh, Steve. He's learning bless him.

"Ahahhaha, I was just thinking the same thing." Steve laughs freely and easily. "Would you mind waiting while I clean up just a bit in the kitchen? I'll bring us fresh coffee too. Just a second." He's on his feet and trotting off to the kitchen not a moment later. Cleaning up sounds to be mostly wiping off counters and rinsing dishes to properly wash later. Then it's right back to the couch where he hands over a fresh cup of coffee to Matt.

"Where do you want to start?"

If the Lord ain't with them, at least don't let the Devil in [ for fightlikehell ]

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And here is where I admit I know embarrassingly little about religious studies ooc. Wikipedia it is!