#baby you are wrong about this. broccoli is delicious. but I would fight to the death for your right to have your Strong Stances

[vaguely-concerned]

idk why I find it so charming that davrin doesn't like broccoli (and thinks no one in their right mind should like broccoli either), but I sure do fhsdkjl

[anastasiabeaverhousen87]

Make Wise Choices Part 6: Soup and fever

Arriving at the Danvers’s apartment Alex parks the SUV, killed the engine and looks into the rear-view mirror to check on y/n. The youngest Danvers is completely passed out slightly snoring cuddle to the blonde doctor. The doctor in turn is looking down at the young woman in her arms mesmerized by the view of rosy cheeks and pouty lips.  Alex just smiles at the both of them, they do look cute together.

Kara: “Oh my God isn’t she the cutest, it just makes you want to grab her checks and squish them, so freaking adorable” – the blonde superhero says gushing about her sister.

Dr. Sharpe: “She is very beautiful indeed; she does look quite adorable while sleeping. But I am a bit concern about how rosy her cheeks are looking, and she feels too warm”

Alex opens the door for Cassandra so she can get out, but the sound of the door and the moving of the arms makes y/n a bit fussy.

The eldest Danvers touches y/n cheeks and forehead to check for a fever and hums – “she is a bit warm, but nothing too concerning. She tends to suffer from mild fevers due to stress or when overtired. But let’s get her up and I will check her temp in the apartment, I think it’s for the cold she is coming down with”

y/n moves and puts an arm around the doctor’s neck and hides her face, clearly not happy at the women disrupting her sleep.

Y/n: “ghnooo, comfy don’t move”. - you complain.

Kara: “Yes, she is quite the cuddler. Especially when tired or sick. Want me to help you with her? She is mainly dead weight by now. She won’t cooperate with you when she is like this”.

Dr. Sharpe: “that’s fine I don’t mind, and she is not really heavy. Quite the opposite. I can take her upstairs. And don’t take it this the wrong way, but I’m fairly certain I’m a bit sturdier than you”- she blonde doctor gives a chuckle.

Kara: “Okaaaay then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though. And I bet you are, but I’m used to carry around this goober since she was like 5”

Alex: “yeah she is very clingy especially with Kara., but it’s true she is now mainly dead weight”

Lena- “She won’t drop her, that woman is pure muscle. She has like 5 black belts in all sorts of martial arts and I have the feeling she is a ninja, but I don’t have further evidence to prove that”- the green- eyed woman says and chuckles.

The blonde doctor laughs at this - “I do a lot of heavy lifting and truly I don’t mind. “- says while stepping out of the car with y/n in her arms like she weights nothing at all.  Then turn at her friend -“And hey then if you say all those nice things about me why you asked if I had her, you were worried I would drop her back at the office “ - the woman accuses her friend but with an amuse smile on her face

Lena: “I knew you had her; I was double checking. I’m just too fond of y/n and I worry, so sue me!”

Kara: “yeah right Lena, y/n has you wrapped around her finger sooo bad”

Alex: “please, you’re one to talk”-mocks her sister.  

The women entered the apartment and Cassandra went to the living room to place Y/n at the couch

Dr. Sharpe: “Should I lay her here or in her room?”

Alex: “The couch Is fine, I want to check her temp and wake her for a little bit, she hasn’t eaten anything if I want to give her something for the cold and she needs something to eat. I don’t want her glucose levels to drop”

Dr. Sharpe: “Is she a diabetic?”

Alex: “No, she’s not. but when she was younger, she struggled with nondiabetic hypoglycemia. It was due to the medication she was taken at the time. We kind of get used to always check she was under the normal levels and she gets cranky, dizzy and sometimes gets horrible headaches if she doesn’t eat and her blood sugar gets low. I don’t want her feeling worse, right now I think she had enough with the teeth surgery and now probably getting sick with a cold”

Dr. Sharpe: “Oh I see. We definitely don’t want that, poor baby”- the doctor looks down at you with a sweet smile”

Alex: “now, here comes the fun part. She doesn’t like being waken up when she is sick.”- the red head looks down sadly at y/n

Kara: “what’s even worse is that you are going to feed her something gross like broccoli. She hates veggies by the way…” the blonde Danvers mentions with a grimace at thinking of vegetables.

Lena: “there’s nothing wrong with broccoli. You two are just picky eaters who enjoy junk food way too much”.

Kara: “you should see when trying to feed her veggies. She is the worst there is. Is always a negotiation strategy. And Lena is the one that handles that , when Alex and y/n fight over veggies always ends with y/n in tears.”

Dr. Sharpe: “Wait… how about you let  me cook dinner . I make a really nice creamy chicken noodle soup with mushrooms that can be perfect for her to eat and for us too. Healthy and comforting. My nonna used to make it for me”

Lena: “ohhh yes, that sounds delicious “

Alex: “that actually sounds amazing. And Lena has all the healthy stuff in the fridge so I bet all ingredients you need you can find here”

Kara; “I would never say no to food, especially if made by an Italian woman”

Dr. Sharpe, “ok so I’m going to start on diner, while you check on y/n. When diner is done you can wake her up and feed her and she can take her meds”

 Y/n: “Lexie?” - You mumble asking for your big sis, you only call her Lexie when you feel unwell.

 Alex: “I’m here baby”.- running her fingers through your hair soothingly

Y/n; “Lexie am cold” - a tear runs down your rosy cheek.

Alex: “oh sweet girl; you’re not felling okay aren’t you? Ok, change of plans, Sharpe you go ahead and continue with the diner prep, Kara can you bring a set of lighter set of pajamas for y/n. I don’t want her overheated.  Now baby I’m going to check your temperature and give you some juice or Pedialyte while diner is ready”

Kara: “On it!”

Lena: “come one Cassie, I’ll help you with diner”- the blonde doctor and Lena walk to the kitchen.

Alex: “Here, let me take your temp baby”. - the red head puts the thermometer in your ear and waits for the beep “100.5, that’s a fever but not too bad, let get you into more comfortable jammies and I will bring a light sheet. I can’t bring the blanket baby; you will get too warm and would bring your temp up”

Y/n; “hold me please “- a couple tears run down your cheeks, tears of exhaustion.

Alex: “ok let me change you into fresh jammies and I will hold you before diner. Lena can you bring me a cold compress for y/n. Let see if that can bring the fever down a bit. I don’t want to medicate her just yet”

Alex and Kara work fast on changing your clothes while Lena returns with the cold compress. Alex sits down and Kara picks you up and settles you in Alex lap. While Lena presses the cold compress on your forehead and passes one of the bottles filled with cold grape Pedialyte.

Alex: “Ok sweetie, here drink some Pedialyte, diner should be ready soon”. – and starts to hum softly a tune.

Lena returns to the Kitchen where the blonde doctor is working on getting the soup cooked.

Dr Sharpe : “is she okay?”

Lena; “mild fever, but she seems like she settled down okay now that she is with Alex. She tends to be more clingy to Kara but when she really feels bad , when she is too exhausted or sick, she always wants Alex near her. She is her big sister after all”

Kara; “yeah, Alex has always been our rock since we were kids. Like pretty much raise us , I mean our mom Eliza is the best but she was always busy when we were younger and after Jeremahia took a job that kept him away most of the time,   Alex was always more like a parent figure to us, especially to y/n. I didn’t get sick often, but y/n unfortunately wasn’t as lucky. Her immune system wasn’t the best. Y/n would never calm down if Alex was not with her to rock her to sleep. Over the years she became more and more comfortable with me, but when I first moved into the Danvers home y/n would only let Alex hold her when she was very sick. Not even Eliza was able to calm her down.”

The three women look back the at couch where Alex was still humming softly a tune to y/n. still awake but clearly not very aware of much.

Dr. Sharpe: “ok diner should be ready in about 10 minutes.”

Kara works on setting up the table with Lena. While the blonde doctor starts plating the soup for everyone.

Once everything was settled, the blue-eyed doctor walks into the living room to let Alex knows diner is ready.

Dr. Sharpe: “Diner’s ready, you want me to bring her soup here or to the table?”

Alex: “I think the table. She will fall asleep if she is not sitting down or make a mess instead of eating anything. Come on sweetie, wake up for a little bit diner is ready”- she tries to coax you into a more conscious state.

Y/n: “No wanna. Not hungry”- and you try to settle more comfortably on your sister to fall asleep.

Alex: “None of that. come on, Cassandra made her special soup just for you and you need to eat something”

y/n: “She did? For me?” – tearing up a bit and cover a sneeze with the inside of your elbow- “Ok, I guess I can eat something” - you look to the blonde woman who is smiling kindly at you.

Alex: “why the tears baby? – Alex touches your forehead- “Oh baby you feel warmer. Come one lets get you food and then your meds”

Alex walks you to the table where Kara and Lena are waiting and began to eat. Alex begins to feed you the soup which is very tasty.

y/n: “this taste so good, Thank you Cassandra”

Kara: “Oh wow yes its amazing. So yummy”- while pretty much eaten her soup a long with a huge piece of garlic bread in her mouth.

Alex: “Kara maybe you should try to savor it first, you just inhale the whole thing”

Kara: “Ha Ha very funny Alex”

Lena: “Well it is quite delicious. Thank You Cassie.”

Dr. Sharpe: “Well you are all very welcome, I’m glad you liked it. I can always cook more dishes for you, I really love cooking”

Kara: “You will never hear me complaining about food, so by all means you can feed me anytime. This is sooooo good.”

Pleasant chatter among the women at the table continues while Alex works on feeding you the soup, but you only manage half the bowl as you grow too tire and you just want to sleep.

y/n: “I can’t eat anymore Alex, I’m so sleepy”- you look pleadingly to your sister.

Alex: “Ok Kiddo, you ate enough so I can give you the meds, lets get you to bed”

Kara: “Let me take her, you finish your soup. When you’re done you can come to check on her”

Dr. Sharpe: “Yes Alex, you haven’t eaten, I can give her the meds, I’m guessing the cold medicine with the fever reducer, right?”

Alex: “Yes, the ones in the coffee table. And thank you I’ll be right there”

Kara walks to where you’re sitting at the table and take you to your room.

Kara: “Come here sweetie”

You just let yourself be carried away to your room while the blonde doctor picks up her medical bag and the meds on the coffee table.

Kara sits you in your bed while she goes back to bring a glass of water.

Dr. Sharpe: “Hi sweetie, let me take your temp really quick, you are looking quite flush right now”

y/n: “Well I think is mainly your fault, just so you know” – you reply with a hint of flirt behind the words

Dr. Sharpe: “funny girl, may that be the case, just humor me. I don’t like take advantage of sick and delirious women while their inhibitions are low”

y/n: “You can totally take advantage of me”- you try to wink and wiggle your eyebrows, but you are feeling all groggy, so you look like dork with no sense of coordination.

Dr. Sharpe: “well that’s cute, you ‘cute. And all in due time pretty girl”- The blonde woman pokes your nose.  And you just pout at her.

Kara: “Ohhhh look at that, the pouting. What you did?”

Dr. Sharpe: “I just want to check her temp; her face looks a bit too flush”

Kara looks at you and nods. “Lay back kiddo and let the doc check your temp”- you comply resting your back into the pillows while the blonde doctor works on checking the surgical foam in your mouth and your temp.

Dr. Sharpe: “You do have a fever pretty girl. The foam for your teeth seems okay and you shouldn’t feel any pain”

Alex walks into the room at the moment the doctor speaks and frowns at the mention of the high temperature.

Alex: “Ok yes, that’s higher than before. Ok here baby, please drink this and lay down.”

Lena walks into the room carrying a bowl with cold water and a few rags. “Here Alex, I brought a few cold compresses to try and bring her temperature down a bit”

Alex handles you a tiny cup with cold medicine and fever reduced. You take it and lay yourself down. Lena and Kara say their goodbye and good night to you.

Dr. Sharpe: “Get well soon pretty girl, sleep tight and rest bella”

y/n: “Will you come to visit soon? I kinda like the idea of the date thing you mentioned before.”

The Danvers and Lena chuckle at that while the blond only looks a bit taken aback but still pleased that the littlest Danvers wants to see her again.

Dr. Sharpe: “You were listening huh? I can definitely arrange to that, however you need to get well first sweet thing” -The doctor places a gentle kiss to your forehead – “sweet dreams”

Y/n: “Thank you” – you yawn and began to close your eyes.

Dr. Sharpe: “Ok I’m leaving now, I’ll see myself out, talk to you later Alex and call me if you need anything”

Alex nods and says good night to the doctor while the blonde doctor walks back to the living room to say goodbye to Lena and the Kara.

Alex: “Okay sweet girl, I’m going to change and get my phone and I’ll stay with you tonight, okay?”

You just nod and close your eyes succumbing to sleep.

You wake up and the room is dark, you can feel a body next to you, but you feel too hot and remove your sheets from you. But the moment you do, you feel cold. You whimper because you feel miserable.

Alex senses you are moving around and turn on the lights to check on you. She looks down at you and notices your red cheeks and sweaty locks. Puts a hand on your cheeks and forehead.

Alex: “Oh sweet girl, you fever got worse let me check”- she quickly checks your temp, 103. “this is not good, come one we need to bring your temperature down”

Alex runs to the bathroom and fills the bathtub with barely lukewarm water and returns to your room to take you to the bathroom. You cling to her trying to get war again after you start to shiver from the cold from the temperature change. Alex removes your clothes and sits you in the bathtub.

You have a few tears down your face and whimper at the cold of the water.  In that moment Kara walks into the bathroom.

Kara: “Oh no, fever got worse?” and sits next to Alex while she pours water down your back, neck and front. After a while Alex notices that your temp is down, and Kara works on getting you up and bundle up in a soft towel and brings you back to your room. There they put in a loose shirt and clean underwear but leave you just on that to avoid overheating you. You feel cooler to the touch and Alex brings more medicine.

Alex: “Okay, open up kiddo” – you take the medicine and try to find a comfy spot.

Kara lays down next to you as well as Alex, who touches your arm no wanting to get your body heat up. But still for you to feel comforted by their presence. You can feel a cool rag on your forehead and the soothing voice of Kara signing softly a song and you drift off once again.

note: Sorry not my best and honestly not quite happy with this. not feeling it, i don't have that much inspiration. I’ll get it better for Part 7. 

[justjessame]

Put Me In Coach 5

I was typing out a text to both Eric AND Mary as Negan was entering the house. Fuck fuck fuck.

9 1 1 NOW SOS FUCK

A buzz came as we stood for a moment in the foyer. I stopped Negan with a hand on his arm. “One second, please.” I pleaded, and he stood with me as I typed a reply to Eric’s triple question marked response.

NEGAN my house NOW.

As I held on to Negan’s arm, another vibration and looked down I smiled. “OK, let’s head in.” Before we could be seen through the doorway of the dining room the doorbell chimed again. “I’ll get it.” I offered, loud enough for Mom to hear and Negan shot me a look. “Come with me.”

Standing outside the door was the cavalry. “Eric,” I closed my eyes in gratitude for my best friend. “Mary.” I grinned at my other bestie. “Thank fucking GOD.” Negan was standing back staring at the three of us as we clustered together. We wouldn’t have long. Mom would wonder what was going on. She’d rush out and here we’d be, a clusterfuck of assholes. “Negan wants to meet Mom and Dad. Tonight.” I filled my best friends in as Negan stood there watching us with a combined look of discomfort and confusion.

“Wow, Coach,” Eric ran his gaze over Negan from top to bottom. “Balls of steel.” Fuck, don’t laugh, don’t fucking laugh. “Should have joined a fucking sport.” He muttered to himself, and I bit my fucking lip. Negan’s expression was going to undo me. Fuck.

“Guys,” Mary tried to refocus us. “OK, so if we all walk in, you,” she pointed at me, “can be like ‘oh, Mom, I’m sorry I invited my friends over and totally forgot.’” I nodded, it sounded like a good start. “And you,” she gestured to Negan, “you’re going to introduce yourself. And we’re going to EASE the relationship into the conversation, maybe, we'll see.  No pissing on my girl’s leg, do you fucking get that?” Negan opened his mouth to argue, but she shushed him. “At school you’re Coach, but here? Here I’m Coach.” She shot Eric a look. “And YOU.” Damn it. “You are going to play referee. If you see the level of awkward shooting up, make it go away. If you sense that SOMEONE,” another look at Negan, “is about to go postal? You are going to fucking divert it. Fully. Fucking sing show-tunes if you must, but don’t let this shit get out of hand.”

“All gays DO NOT sing show-tunes, whore.” Eric muttered, and Mary shot him a glare that I was envious of. “Fine. I’ll sing like a fucking canary.” He held up his palms in surrender.

“I’ll run interference.” I raised an eyebrow. “Your parents want you and Joe to make tiny perfect bland babies, but trust me, I’ll make Joe want to practice with me first.” I giggled. “OK, that’s the plan. Let’s go before Mrs. Kendall decides to come find us.”

I had doubts, as we rounded the corner and entered the dining room. My mom’s eyes widened at my collection of misfits. My dad’s look of confusion. I made the excuses that Mary had concocted for their presence. I didn’t stumble through it, I held my head high, as though I often made such silly faux pas. My mother, knowing that to pitch a fit would be TOTALLY against her goals for this dinner, smiled through her irritation and graciously welcomed Mary and Eric to join us. Her gaze met Negan’s form and I had to fight closing my eyes from the churning of my stomach.

He did fine. He introduced himself without allowing for a comfortable opening to attack his clear age difference, and he even shot Joe a look as though daring him to mention school. Joe, I was happy to see, wasn't even paying the slightest attention, since he was focused on Mary’s cleavage. I had a flash of fear about his parents recognizing Negan, but then rolled my eyes internally when I realized they were cut from the same high and mighty cloth as my parents. Negan, as a mere teacher, was beneath their notice. Even when he was the one to force them to fetch drunk Joe from the dance.

We got situated around the table, Negan held my chair for me and Eric held Mary’s. Mary was seated between Joe and Eric, who shot me a wink as I realized Negan took the seat next to me,  putting me between him, and since I sat at the corner, my mom. Great. Fuck.

Our dinner was served, courses and courses of dinner, because clearly my mother was in the impress the Malberrys mode. As I was about to sigh through the main course, I felt Negan’s hand touch my knee. I glanced at him and he was smiling.

“Joe,” my mother had been trying, with various levels of failure to draw Joe into a conversation that would PROVE to me that he was worth a second look, throughout each course. “What are your plans after graduation?”

It wasn’t Joe who answered. It hadn’t been Joe who’d answered ANY of Mom’s questions all evening. His mother fielded most of them, but his dad chimed in now and again. And my mom’s interest would wane for a moment, and her focus would shift. To Eric, asking him if he’d found anyone special, then flinching when Eric would say something about the GUY he was seeing. I bit my lip and looked at my plate. Or when she asked Mary if she’d heard from any of the schools she’d applied to and Mary deadpanned that she hadn’t but there was always cosmetology school. I knew that Mary got in to every fucking school she’d applied to, because she might be fun and silly, but she was also fucking smart as fuck. So was Eric, but no one ever noticed it.

“Negan, is it?” My mom had refocused, fuck.

He’d been taking a drink of his water and swallowed carefully before answering. “Yes, Mrs. Kendall, that’s my name.” His fingers were sliding on my bare skin, teasing me as he spoke with complete ease to my mother.

“You don’t look like a student.” Not a question, so he didn’t answer. “How is it you know my daughter?” Fuck.

“Oh, Mrs. Kendall,” Eric cut in, seemingly accidentally. “I think there’s a chip in my plate, I hope that a bit of the porcelain isn’t in my potatoes.” Oh my God.

“What?” Mom was on her feet and next to Eric’s seat studying his dish, leaning closer and closer as Eric kept pointing at I fucking hoped an actual fucking knick.

“You doing alright, princess?” Negan breathed close to my ear, not so close to draw attention, but close enough so no one could hear him.

“Fine, you?” I spoke to my forkful of broccoli.

“Highly fucking entertained.” And I sucked in a lungful of air when his finger traced up my inner thigh. “Your friends are fucking amazing, sweetheart.”

“Aren’t they though.” I smiled, taking a bite of my vegetables.

Mom had left the room with Eric’s plate, bitching about the nerve of the housekeeper/cook having broken the good china. Dear fucking god. I caught Eric’s eye and he winked and I had to bite my lip again.

“So, Joe,” Mary was breathing up at the big lug. “What brings you to Amara’s house for dinner?” Shit. Joe was looking down at her with an almost glazed look in his eyes and I wondered if he had hit the bottle again.

“Her mom called my mom and invited us.” Huh, he wasn’t drunk, he was just fucking HORNY for Mary. At my dinner table. Negan was right, this was fucking entertaining. “Glad you showed up.” Wow, thanks, I feel special now.

Negan’s finger was sliding ever higher up my inner thigh and I closed my eyes as he was nearing his goal. Fuck. “Amara, is something wrong.” Fuck, Mom’s back. I opened my eyes and looked up at where she was hovering at her chair. Negan’s hand left and he stood to hold out her chair, as he had mine. “Thank you, Mr. Negan.” Mr. Negan? Fuck.

“Nothing’s wrong, Mom.” I answered, forking a piece of chicken. “Just a bit of a headache.” Negan took his own seat again, once Mom had sat back down. “Dinner is delicious, by the way.” Sprinkle in a compliment, tramp down the worry, rinse and repeat.

She smiled at me and then her eyes fell on Negan again. “Mr. Negan?” Here we go again.

“Mrs. Kendall,” Eric, I swear to fucking God I would buy him whatever his heart desired after tonight, piped up. “My mom would die for the recipe for this-” he held up, I squinted, was that the fucking garnish?

“It’s cilantro, Eric,” my mom looked confused, and I could see her mind shoot to a question about whether Eric was high. And I was biting my lip so hard that I almost didn’t feel the return of Negan’s hand on my thigh. Shit, I wasn’t going to survive this.

“No, Mrs. Kendall, not this-” I watched, my eyes widening, as Eric flung the cilantro over his fucking shoulder like it offended him. “Cilantro tastes like dirty dishwater. THIS.” He picked up a bite of chicken. “Mom would LOVE the recipe for this, I know it.”

Dear fucking God. Eric was either earning every fucking BEST FRIEND MERIT BADGE ever, or he was going to die at my mom’s hands.

“Eric Sullivan!” My mother gasped, and I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or stand up and get between them. “Did you just toss the garnish-”

“He’s right,” my dad’s voice cut in. “Why do we buy this crap when we don’t actually eat it?” Twilight Zone. I must have been transported into an alternative fucking reality because my dad NEVER engaged during dinner. EVER. He didn’t toss his over his shoulder, but he did put it on the bread dish next to his plate. “It’s disgusting and quite frankly, it does taste like dirty dishwater.”

Negan was biting his own lip beside me. I could see it out of the corner of my eye. Jesus. “I don’t know.” Negan picked up his sprig of the greenery and bit into it. “I kind of like it.”

For fuck’s sake. What the hell was going on? And then the debate really got rolling. With Mary and slow Joe weighing in on Negan’s side. Pretty sure Joe would have voted for Hitler if Mary mentioned he had some good ideas, at this point. His parents were split, his mother, clearly trying to salvage the slowly fraying likelihood of Joe and me, sided with Mom and his dad, not reading any part of this batshit room was wondering why anyone ever used any garnish whatsoever.

“Princess, I think this shit has gone fucking all the way around the goddamn bend.” Negan’s voice was a breath again, someone I heard him over the very enthusiastic debate that was now going on about garnish period. I nodded, glancing around the table in disbelief.

Dinner was over faster than I expected, my mom never getting a chance to return to her twice failed interrogation of Negan. As we walked our guests to the door, a cluster of a group if I'd ever seen one, she tried ONE more time.

“Mr. Negan,” I held back a sigh. “I feel like we never did get to speak fully.” No shit, Mom, it was a concerted effort, trust me.

“I guess not, Mrs. Kendall.” He was smiling down at her, oozing charm.

“You should come to dinner next week.” Fuck. “This time, perhaps, Amara can NOT invite her friends without asking first.” Damn it. No buffer this time. “What day would work best for you?”

I zoned out. Shit. Although, alone with just my parents and Negan, maybe it wouldn’t be such a nightmare? As Negan crossed over the threshold to leave, the final participant in the world’s most strange dinner party, Mom and I offered our goodbyes, his eyes lingered on me for a beat and I knew I’d be getting a call soon.

Once the door closed, Dad was already in the family room with his paper, Mom focused on me. “When were you planning on telling me you’re involved with the gym teacher?” Shit.

[delkios]

Fightstarter Karaoke (DC TV)

Oh, I have an idea for a silly, quick fic! 5K words later... Title from the song by Dropkick Murphys. Title: Fightstarter Karaoke (AO3) Fandom: DC TV Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 5237 Characters: Len, Mick, Lisa Summary: Mick does not approve of Len's diet and decides to start up a wager.

Living with Mick is the fucking worst. It's not actually- even trying to cram two grown men into a shitty one bedroom with a crappy sofa bed and crappier mattress, it's better than living with Lewis. But staying in the same place as someone he doesn't have to tread lightly around quickly became a game of 'Is This Habit A Previously Unknown Pet Peeve of Len's'. Mick is horrendously good at that game. He leaves wet towels on floors or counters, switches television channels in the middle of a show, puts his dirty projects on the table and hoards trinkets both valuable and not. Which isn't hypocritical of Len at all because at least Len organizes his stolen hoard and not just shoves them into whatever free space is available.

Len's aware, of course, that this is a two-way street and Mick doesn't hesitate to bitch about which of Len's habits is driving him up the wall this time: talking- making legitimate criticisms! -over shows and movies, putting his booted feet on everything, letting Lisa stay over for days at a time. Her staying Mick never actually minds, it's Len's tendency of informing Mick of this by dropping Lisa's bag on his stomach and kicking him off the least lumpy side of a sofa.

And his eating habits. Nothing gets Mick fuming like seeing what crap Len puts in his mouth. It comes to a head one day when Mick gets back from a grocery run and catches Len squeezing ketchup packets into a bowl of macaroni. Mick glowers at him and says, "You better be done with that by the time I finish putting refrigerated stuff away."

Mick doesn't get mad often- the kind that's not for show -and Len shovels his food down obediently. He knows from experience that Mick will toss out Len's food mid-meal and make him eat something healthier. He finishes barely a minute before Mick stomps over and towers over Len, arms folded and glaring- it's a testament to their relationship that Len doesn't feel compelled to shrink away from him.

"We," Mick says like an order, "are going to wager."

Len blinks owlishly, uncertain as to where this was headed. "On what?"

"Whoever wins our next fight gives the loser an instruction and they have to keep doing that until the next fight."

Granted, Len is very much aware of the fact he's been ducking out of these training bouts with Mick despite needing to be a better fighter and not just taking a hit which he's worryingly good at. And he always did think betting made things more interesting but, "Fuck no- you're always gonna win!"

Mick just gives a mean grin. "Incentive to make you fight harder."

True but Len isn't about to bet on certain loss. "No," he says firmly.

The following week is hell. Mick leaves his clothes everywhere, lets dirty dishes fester on the table, keeps the windows open a crack so bugs can get in, plays his music obnoxiously loud even through headphones. What makes it worse is the fact Len knows Mick is doing all this deliberately, so Len will be compelled to take the bet in the miraculous event he wins and could order some sort of reprieve for a while.

Len comes back to the apartment one day to find Mick on the sofa with his dick out and porn on the tv. Mick masturbating to bad porn isn't a surprising thing though he- like Len -usually does that in the bedroom like decent fucking people. Nor is it far from the first time he's seen Mick rubbing one off- time in prison aside, if one or both of them are horny but too lazy to go prowling, they have no problems popping in porno in the video player and jacking off right next to each other. But to have Mick doing so on the sofa, right in front of the door, is a shock. If he'd had Lisa with him, Len would have been livid- distantly he's aware that Mick knows she's at camp for a few months but the point still stands.

He slams the door and stomps in, standing between Mick and the screen, glaring. Mick calmly stares right back up at Len, hand still moving over his cock. Len snarls, "You're on."

~*~*~*~

Len's mouth presses into a tight, unhappy line as Mick puts a plate of something not greasy, mostly green and easy on his still-sore jaw in front of him.

"Eat," Mick orders and Len, for the third day in a row, forces himself to pick up his fork.

He chokes down the first bite. "When are we fighting again." It's more demand than question.

Mick grins, feral and happy. "Whenever you want, buddy."

~*~*~*~

The second time Mick wins by default because Len dislocates a finger punching his stupidly sturdy jaw. It's treated in short order- neither are strangers to dislocated joints -and the next time, before the fight, Mick sits Len down and tells him to hold out his hand. Len, not having a reason not to, does as he's told and Mick starts wrapping a long strip of cloth around his thumb, working his way up Len's hand. After Mick finishes with one, he asks, "Too tight or loose?"

Len looks at his wrapped hand, flexing his fingers. It's tight but not constricting, the wrap between his fingers an odd sensation but not uncomfortable. He tries to rotate his wrist, a little difficult with all the material but it's there for support, after all. "Good," he says simply and holds the second out.

It's done in fairly short order, Mick going on to wrap his own hands after. Len never wrapped his hands before. Then again he fights when he has to and not to blow off energy or to keep himself occupied like Mick does. Mick secures the end and smashes his wrapped knuckled together, grinning viciously. "Ready to lose?"

Len smirks, "Pride goes before the fall, Mick."

After, Mick hands a bag of frozen peas to Len. The lack of tenderness to his knuckles is a nice distraction to the pain to his face. "Give that to me when it's thawed," Mick tells him.

"Why? Gonna give me the frozen corn, next?"

"No, it's gonna be part of dinner tonight."

Len makes a face and grouses but keeps the bag pressed to his inevitable bruises.

~*~*~*~

Mick stands on the other side of the table, having already cleared away his dishes, and stares at Len as he pushes around the remains of his own meal. He's eaten just about everything but the broccoli. "You're always like this with the vegetables," Mick growls, glaring at his partner. "Stop being such a damn baby and eat them."

"If they weren't slimy and disgusting, I would."

"You gotta fucking eat them, Len. You're a goddamn twig."

"That's because you're starving me with these green shit."

"It's healthy!"

Len glares at his plate. "I'd rather get scurvy."

Sensing he isn't going to be winning this particular battle- and Len had scrapped every last bit of mango sauce onto his final bite of salmon -Mick yanks the plate away, leaving Len to hold his fork in the air. "Whatever, don't whine at me when you get rickets."

~*~*~*~

Len stands in the doorway watching Mick watch, of all things, Yan Can Cook. Not just watching, Mick is paying attention. Hell- he's taking notes! Len waits for the commercial break before asking, "What are you doing?"

Mick jumps and curses and his pencil fumbles out of his hand. "Jesus Christ, Snart! Don't do that!"

"Are you going to answer the question?" He presses, unapologetic.

Mick gathers his things and resettles, scowling a little. "What's it look like? I'm trying to find new recipes and thought since you like that Chinese take-out joint, I'd try to make something less greasy."

Len's stunned. "You're watching that for me?"

"If I find something you'll eat, I won't have to waste my time making food you're just gonna throw away."

Oddly touched and subdued as a result, Len edges his way back toward the bedroom door to make an escape. "Okay. I'll, uh, leave you to it."

~*~*~*~

"Lenny!"

He can't help but beam and Lisa runs at him, all but tackling him in a hug. Though he'll never admit it, Len is glad his little sister is unashamed to hug him like that, even as a young teen. When she steps back, though, Lisa's beaming smile softens into puzzlement.

"What?" Len asks, muscles along his spine tensing, alert for anything going wrong.

"You look... different."

"It's only been three months," he chides, "I can't look that different."

"You do, though! Less... skinny. Stronger."

Well, Len has been fighting Mick more regularly, he supposed more muscle mass would be a given. "Mick's been making me eat healthy."

She gives him a disbelieving look. "You don't mean, like, green beans and salads and stuff."

"Yeah, actually."

Lisa's expression is over-the-top horrified and she wraps her arms around Len again, mostly to hide the fact she's about to burst out laughing. "You poor baby!"

"I know."

~*~*~*~

Len wakes up the next morning to the smell of something cooking, something delicious. Beside him, Lisa also stirs, sniffing and licking her lips before she even opens her eyes. "What smells so good?"

"Breakfast," Mick calls out from the kitchen and the siblings are already beginning to gravitate. He's making pancakes. He's making a shitload of pancakes. Normally this is not a problem because the buttermilk pancakes Mick grew up on and was saint enough to share with Len and Lisa are divine on their but this? This is a goddamn smorgasbord of pancakes or all sorts, three stacked to a plate. "Figure since I'm trying to get a wider variety of food in your diet, shouldn't slack off with breakfast, either." He absently points at each plate in turn. "Regular buttermilk, blueberry, chocolate chip, cinnamon, banana, rum raisin, and pecan. For toppings there's whip cream, assorted fruits, honey, powdered sugar and a syrup caddy I lifted from Denny's."

"I've died," Lisa says reverently. "Lenny, I've died and gone to heaven and they have so many pancakes!"

Mick chuckles, "Try eating some before you say that."

She does. They both do. And then they eat everything because it would be a crime to leave even a crumb behind. Then they roll themselves back over to the sofa bed and vegetate because there's nothing they can do to prevent the food coma from descending on them. The last thing Len hears as he dozes off, Lisa tucked under an arm, is Mick's fond chuckle from the kitchen.

~*~*~*~

The night before Lisa's school starts up again- and Lewis is on another bar crawl -Mick suggests going out to a diner, one he'd complained to Len about how greasy it was not a week ago but is also one of Lisa's favorites if not just for the pie.

"Not worried about undoing all that hardwork you've done unclogging my arteries?" Len teases after putting in his order for a half pound hamburger with all the fixings, onion rings and a milkshake. Lisa's own order isn't much better.

Mick just shakes his head- he'd asked for a country fried steak himself, definitely no room to criticize. "I wouldn't trust their vegetables not to be covered in grease anyway."

Lisa huffs at them, kicking her legs up so they're next to Mick's seat and making him wrinkle his nose, "You two are so weird."

~*~*~*~

Len wrinkles his nose- not because of the ribs or potato salad, but because after a couple months absence, broccoli is once again on his plate. He doubts the cheese topping is going to make it any more palatable. He glares up at Mick, "I thought you didn't want to waste your time on food I won't eat."

He rolls his eyes in response. "Just try it, jackass. If you don't like it this time, I promise I won't make broccoli again."

Mick isn't big on making promises but his word is pretty much always good. At least where Len is concerned. Taking a deep, steeling breath, Len gingerly takes a bite, then looks up to Mick in surprise. "This... isn't bad." The fact he pops the rest of it into his mouth reveals how much he's downplaying it.

Mick shrugs a bit, acting like it's not a big deal but Len knows him too well by now. With the way he's shifting, Len knows Mick is bother proud and embarrassed by this. "Just cooked it different is all. Roasted 'em instead of boiling. Think I'm starting to figure out what you don't like so, y'know, hopefully I won't have to force feed you anymore."

"If other vegetables can taste like this, I might not have a problem with that."

~*~*~*~

Lisa frowns, jutting her chin to the leg Len is favoring. "What happened?" She hadn't been too happy when she heard about Len and Mick's new arrangement no matter how many times Len said he'd agreed to it. It probably isn't helped by the fact she found out about it when Len sported a prominent bruise on his jaw. She had cornered Mick the first chance she got and told him if he ever hit Len outside of their matches or hurt him enough to need a doctor (not a hospital, none of the three of them were good about hospitals), Lisa wouldn't hesitate to gut him.

What mollified her most was Mick bluntly saying if it got that bad, he'd personally hand Lisa a loaded gun and get down on his knees in front of her.

Len sighs at his knee. "I tried throwing Mick." Not actual throwing, like Mick is able to do to him, but some judo over-the-shoulder thing one of their drinking buddies had shown them. A seemingly petite woman with a body carved out of stone, she can toss Mick on his back like he weighs nothing.

"Well, that was dumb."

"I didn't get enough leverage, I think. He fell on my leg and twisted my knee." On the positive side, Len now knows not to put his leg there.

Lisa rolls her eyes. "You got in a shot, I hope." The only things she wants to know about these fights are what injuries Len took and if Len got any good hits in before losing.

He can't help beaming proudly. "I broke his nose."

She cackles, "Oooooh, nasty!"

~*~*~*~

Out of habit, Len reaches for his belt before realizing it isn't needed. He looks down at himself, like he'd somehow gotten the wrong body. His jeans feel snug. Not yet constricting, but enough that Len can feel the difference especially in his thighs and butt. For testing purposes, he tries on several other jeans. Most are similar- hugging his backside -while the ones he snagged when Mick outgrew them finally look Len's size. Len's oldest jeans are now so tight he has a bit of flesh puffing out over the edges.

Which is, in and of itself, it's own revelation, having enough flesh to actually puff over edges.

Clad in one of the jeans Len is slightly miffed he can no longer comfortably wear, he marches out to the where Mick is sprawled across the sofa and says, "You're making me fat."

Mick stares at him for a long moment. "What?" He asks eventually, as if Len had been speaking another language.

He rolls his eyes. "All that shit you keep feeding me. It's making me put on weight." He spreads out his arms, demanding Mick look at what he's done. "My pants aren't fitting right!"

Mick sinks down in the sofa, turning his eyes back to the television. "They look fine," he mutters petulantly.

"Pants aren't supposed to pinch organs. It's like wearing a corset on my ass."

If Len didn't know any better, he swears Mick is blushing. "Then buy some new ones. Jesus, ain't like we don't have plenty of money."

Len just sighs and shakes his head, stomping back to his room. Honestly, Mick is so clueless sometimes.

~*~*~*~

Though he will never, ever admit it aloud, Len has come to enjoy the food Mick makes for him. It certainly helps that in those months Mick's cooking repertoire has expanded from 'being able to make basic pasta' to 'the kitchen is stocked with ingredients for a week's worth of meals planned in advance'. But once it gets warm enough to break out the grill... Len doesn't know how his waist line is going to survive, honestly.

About once a week Mick will ease up on the healthy stuff and let Len eat junk food. Or, when they're not going out to eat, as close to junk as Mick is willing to get. This time around, seeing Mick break out both the grill and hamburger buns, Len is almost beside himself with anticipation. And when the first thick, juicy, seared burger is brought before him with all his favorite toppings, Len shoves it in his mouth before the plate is even on the table.

In retrospection, Mick must have had the burgers cooling for some time before serving because with the bite comes a molten flood of flavor. "Oh my God," Len gurgles, pulling it away, stunned to find, in a hollow in the middle of the patty, crispy bacon and caramelized onions and melted cheese. "Oh my God."

Mick grins proudly, "That good, huh?"

"Oh my God," Len says before going in for another mouthful. Sure, he's being a bad Jew but both he and Mick have long since agreed bacon doesn't count.

Mick roars in laughter, flicking a finger at the plate of beans and roasted corn on the cob. "Don't forget, you've got other things to eat."

"Never. Not eating anything else ever again." Len takes a third bite and just barely keeps from moaning. "God, I love you."

That seems to make Mick choke for some reason. He takes a deep swig of his beer and says, "You just like that I feed your scrawny ass." That's part of it but Len is too occupied with his meal to say anything more.

~*~*~*~

That night Len looks himself in the mirror, ignoring the scars and focusing on no longer being able to count his ribs, on the slight layer of fat softening the definition of muscle and just overall looking sturdy rather than lanky like he'd been a scant few months ago. And it's all because of Mick who watches out for him, who puts in the effort to take care of Len even when Len isn't appreciative of it. Mick who will watch cooking shows and struggle with reading books and his own writing to find something Len likes to eat, who laughs loudly when Len fails to hide how much he's come to like Mick's cooking. He thinks about the way Mick looks when he's focused on something, how sure and practiced his hands have gotten in the kitchen and he thinks he can spend hours watching him cook, with a kind of confident grace he only ever gets when fighting or fixing something or with fire. He thinks that if the rest of his life is like these last couple months, he'll be content.

Len's head thunks against the mirror. "Oh God, I love Mick."

~*~*~*~

Len tells Lisa this because he has to tell someone and her reply is a frustrated, "No fucking kidding." She then teases him about it the rest of the time they're together. Len decides he's never going to tell her anything again.

It won't last but it makes him feel vindictively better in that moment.

~*~*~*~

For the most part Len can ignore the sudden revelation. It still comes and goes like a tide of inconvenient feelings but he's confident he has control over it.

"Teach me how to wrap hands," Len says suddenly, as Mick pulls out the strip.

"What?" Mick asks blankly. "Why?" Len knows he isn't asking why he wants to learn but why he's suddenly interested now.

"Because I won't have to sit here and stare at you every time you do it for both of us." Len plucks the cloth from Mick's grasp. "Hold out your hand."

Mostly he has control over those feelings.

Mick does as he's told and Len scoots in until he can feel the heat radiating off Mick's body, probably closer than he needs to be. Mick's instructions are simple, voice low and gruff, correcting every time Len gets caught up with the way his fingers feel skimming over Mick's hand, at the rough callouses on his palm and pads of his fingers, at the thick, hard knuckles along the back. The second one goes a little quicker than the first, mostly because Len had to redo the first hand twice, but when Mick clenches his fists to test the bindings, he grunts in approval.

"You wanna try doing your own hands?"

Len holds his hand out without hesitation. "Equal partnership, equal workload."

Mick snorts but takes Len's hand. "Whatever, lazy bastard."

~*~*~*~

It's late when Len and Mick step out of a restaurant, asked to meet with a Family rep in a cordial but thinly veiled threat to keep from thieving their protected businesses, if, however, the two of them are determined to thieve but would like a list of rival Family businesses the rep just so happened to have on him...

They agree to the list and Len wonders how long it will take for the rep to realize they didn't agree to anything else.

It's warm despite the hour but Len has a jacket on anyway. He's frowning thoughtfully and Mick, alert next to him, asks lowly, "Something up?"

"I think you've ruined me."

"How so?"

"That chicken pesto alfredo was nowhere near as good as yours."

Mick's laughter echos around them as they head back to their apartment.

~*~*~*~

"Alright," Lisa calls as she lets herself into the apartment, mindful of the large container of still-warm soup in her hands, "why did you need me to tell the creepy cougar down the street that you were sick? Also why does it smell like charred death in here?"

Len hurries over and shush Lisa, taking the soup from her as he does. "It's for Mick."

She looks at him oddly, following her brother into the kitchen but making extra certain to step quietly to keep from waking Mick, sprawled out on the couch amid blankets, tissues and rattling breathing. "Why didn't you just heat up some Campbell's for him?" Then she sees what used to be the stove. "Holy shit! How did this happen?"

"Keep it down! I don't want Mick to see this!"

"He hasn't seen this?" Lisa waves at the blackened, partly melted stove top. "Did he seriously manage to sleep through this?"

"He couldn't stop coughing so I made him drink some NyQuil to get him to sleep."

"Again- how did this happen?"

"I was trying make him soup out of a cookbook."

"Like from scratch? Why?"

"He's always making good food for me, even when he's tired or like last night when he wasn't feeling well and I figured," Len starts feeling foolish now that he's saying this out loud, "he'd appreciate it if I made him something better than watered down instant soup."

Lisa stares. "Oh my God," she says with a mix of awe and horror, "you're trying to impress him."

"Yeah, well," he gestures at the former stove, "it didn't go so well."

"Okay, one- he'll be impressed you managed to destroy the stove. He'll probably also be mad that you can set the stove on fire but not him, or that he missed it."

"It's not like it was on purpose!"

"I'm pretty sure he won't care. Also, two- considering how often you cook in the first place, he'd be impressed even if you made him Campbell's." She grins wolfishly, "But at least now he's going to be enjoying the fact you've indebted yourself to the creepy cougar for him."

Len rolls his eyes and puts the soup in the microwave. He goes through his book of contacts, hoping one of them will know where he can jack a new stove without getting it traced back to him and tries not to think of what he'd just gotten himself into.

~*~*~*~

"Lisa, stop fussing," Len says, trying not to wince at the pressure she's putting on his black eye via ice pack.

"I'm making a fuss because he knocked you unconscious!"

"Yes, yes," he says impatiently," and Mick is miserable about it."

"Good," Lisa hisses uncharitably and puts more pressure on until Len hisses himself. "And you're an idiot for doing this Bloodsport bullshit."

"Love to know your opinion when you find out I'm going to talk him into continue- ow!" Len fumbles for the ice pack when Lisa shoves it against the tender part of his face and lets go.

"Why?" Len sighs to himself- in all honesty he's been waiting for her to explode about this. "Why do you want to get beat up so badly? I thought the reason why you left home was so you could get away from that!"

"This is different."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"I can fight back."

Lisa stares at him quiet and hard before relenting. "Whatever. I still think you're an idiot."

~*~*~*~

It takes multiple days to convince Mick that Len doesn't blame him for being knocked out and to continue their fights. Or sort of continue as the next bout Mick basically doese nothing but block Len's attack and manages to pin Len with an arm bar. The second time is like that, too. Len is determined the third will be different but he's going to need a little outside help for that.

Upon Len's request, they go to a bar and, about an hour into it, he enacts his plan by 'inadvertently' starting a fight with a local biker gang. The fight, due to the type of dive the bar is, engulfs everyone within and Len's pretty proud of his performance. Sure, he's still no powerhouse but he's put quite a few people on their asses before a couple strikes manages to shake even his impressive pain tolerance and Len staggers into a table. Someone yells out, "Cops!" and everyone scatters. A hand grabs Len by the coat and drags him out.

From there it's a blur but the sounds of sirens and other people fade and Len manages to clear his head enough to see Mick doubled over next to him, heaving for breath. "What," Mick gets out between gasps, "the fuck? Couldn't warn me before hand you were looking to get your ass beat?"

"Thought I was starting to get rusty," Len says. He flexes his hands and winces- his knuckles are definitely going to be hurting tomorrow. "Figured since you weren't interested in fighting, I'd have to get my training elsewhere."

Mick stares at him for a long, disbelieving moment. Then he starts laughing, albeit breathlessly. "You crazy, stupid bastard!"

That may be so and he might have a minor concussion but, to Len's immense pleasure, Mick's back to form in their third bout so Len considers it a success.

~*~*~*~

It's starting to get chilly again and Mick is taking every opportunity to use the grill before winter sets in. He offers to pick up Lisa from school- Lewis is too busy planning a job to notice her existence -on his way back from getting groceries. When they get back, Lisa calls out to her brother and follows the sound of his voice to the kitchen. Upon seeing her, Len grins brightly, never minding the fact he's peeling sweet potatoes for roasting or that his lower lip is split in two places. "I threw Mick!"

Lisa wraps her arms around her brother- deliberately making him hiss from sore ribs, "Nice!"

~*~*~*~

It happens. After a year and two months and eighteen days, Len finally wins. The small stand by the sofa is an unfortunate casualty but it also tripped Mick up enough for Len to twist his arms so Len considers it a heroic death. For almost a minute, Mick struggles but the awkward position gives him no leverage and eventually he has to concede. He looks over his shoulder at Len, face red from exertion and body warm under Len's hands. He gives a crooked little grin and says, "Finally got me. So what've you been waiting all this time to order me to do?"

And Len... freezes. He's been thinking about it for a good eight months now, has scenario after scenario planned out in his head, a veritable mental book of witty lines for every situation before he'd lean in to steal a kiss. But all that's gone out the proverbial window and Len just hovers there, hands locked around Mick's wrists, unable to figure out what he should be doing.

Mick slowly begins to tense, picking up on Len's unnatural stillness. "Len? Buddy- you okay?"

Before he can think better of it, Len blurts out, "Can I kiss you?"

Mick's eyes go wide. "Uh..."

"You don't have to, it's not a big deal, I just... really want to kiss you." Len will be horrified at the word vomit spilling out of him if his brain ever decides to function again.

Mick's face is still red and it takes Len far longer than it should to realize it's no longer from exertion. "Um. Okay? I'm... I'm not gonna complain or anything. Could you let go first?"

Len lets go and rolls Mick onto his back, still an awkward position because he's half-laying on the stand but neither care because they're grabbing at each other, bumping noses and fumbling before finally lining up for a kiss.

It's not mindblowing in that it's fairly chaste and clumsy but it also makes Len's heart feel like it's about to burst because it's Mick. They part and Len chases the taste of Mick off his lips with a flick of his tongue. Beneath him, Mick groans and Len shivers because there's a big, warm hand tenderly massaging the back of his neck. Len opens his eyes and pulls back, uncertain how to proceed from here.

"You, um," Len doesn't think he's ever seen Mick shy before, nor has he considered the possibility he'd ever think the man adorable, "you don't have to ask. To kiss me." Mick's face gets even redder and redder, "You can do that whenever, I don't mind."

Len sits up back a little, even though all he really wants is to get his lips back on Mick's. "So kissing-"

"-or more."

"-or more," and damn if that doesn't run a delicious thrill down Len's spine, "isn't part of winning fights?"

"No." Mick's other hand trails lightly over Len's side, catching against his sweater and giving him another thrill.

"So I can still give you an order, right?" Mick's eyes narrow but Len barrels on before he can backpedal, leaning in close, grin twisting wickedly. "Make me mac and ketchup."

~*~*~*~

Mick, fucking shit that he is, gets the last laugh anyway because Len can barely get passed the first bite before gagging.

[themanwhoatethetown]

Stephanie and I were invited to visit Honky Tonk Smokehouse to try their offerings and report to our readers (and listeners). I will say that we were very pleasantly surprised at what we found.

I actually had never heard of them before they reached out to me. I will honestly recommend folks give it a try and push that point from now on. They are located at 145 Jonestown Road in Winston-Salem. The location had been home to B&D’s BBQ and another barbecue restaurant before now-owners Sam and Susan Platt bought the restaurant and turned it into what it is today. The older restaurants were take-out only and from what I knew only had a so-so reputation as far as barbecue goes. But, the Platts have done some great things.

Honky Tonk Smokehouse Dining Room

Let’s focus for a second on the fact that we live in one of the areas of the country known for “barbecue.” In this state, while there are several unique styles, they usually fall into two categories: “Eastern” and “Lexington.” Eastern is more of a vinegar-based liquid where Lexington is tomatoed up and is a bit thicker. Personally, I prefer the Eastern style, but I do love me some Lexington as well. There are people in this town who say they are “barbecue fans” or they “love barbecue.” However, those folks will only go to one restaurant and deem it “the best.” These same folks have a propensity to not visit anything new. And, yet, they still call themselves “barbecue fans.” What they mean is that they’re “Brand X fans,” not fans of barbecue. They are closed-minded and that’s fine; not a bad thing. It just means they’re missing out on the other facilities that this area has to offer. This is the case here at Honky Tonk Smokehouse, I feel.

Let’s also get something straight, this isn’t rocket surgery. There is an art to barbecue and I will never say it isn’t tough, but it really doesn’t open to a lot of experimentation. So, when some say they’re fans of this place or that place, it is because most places do one thing and they do it well. I don’t mean they only serve pulled or chopped pork or may serve chicken or a hot dog or whatever. I mean, it’s barbecue. Now, on the converse of this, we will have to agree that familiarity can be a glorious thing. That’s where we get “comfort food” from, right?

The Parade of Sides

“Honky Tonk” Taters

Coleslaw

Mac-N-Cheese

Hush Puppies

Green Beans

Collard Greens

Jalapeño-Baked Beans

“September Special” Broccoli Salad

At Honky Tonk Smokehouse, they have all the comforts down pat. They don’t necessarily do “chopped” sandwiches as they serve at many of the area’s BBQ restaurants. That’s not saying they won’t do it, it’s just not what they do. What they do do is take regional and national staples and offer it their way; the delicious way, and yes, that does include BBQ sandwiches, just not chopped. Sam Platt hand-rubs the meats with a proprietary blend of spices, long-rests them and slow-cooks them over a hickory fire. That’s traditional, right? No rules broken, no dissenters complaining. Some of their meat offerings are baby back ribs, turkey, chicken, chicken wings, brisket, pulled pork, and smoked sausage. They also offer a wide variety of veggies and sides. All the items are made in-house.

Stephanie and I were treated to a full complement of delicious offerings both in the meat and sides department.

We had white meat chicken, baby back ribs, brisket, turkey, pulled pork, green beans, hush puppies, jalapeño-baked beans, “honky tonk taters,” mac-n-cheese, collard greens, cole slaw, and a broccoli salad that was a special “side of the month.”

To appease the good graces of my lovely wife, we started with the veggies first, each taking just a bit at a time of the same thing to compare notes to see what we tasted and if we liked it or not. We started with the broccoli salad. It was crisp, sweet and creamy with craisins which gave it a bright fruity taste, as well. Sam said they had partnered with Little Black Dressing (made locally, served broadly) which is the dressing that helps make this dish what it is. This is only for September and in October they will have another month-long surprise for you.

Baby Back Ribs

The green beans were hearty and savory. That surprised me, but I really liked it. They weren’t mushy as some can be and still had a bit of snap. I really enjoyed the green beans as did Stephanie. We both remarked about enjoying them.

The hush puppies weren’t every spiced or overly fried. They had a great flavor and it was subtle. That enabled them to be the perfect accompaniment to the selection of sauces that Honky Tonk Smokehouse has available (but more on that later). Crispy and good. They way hush puppies should be, I think.

The jalapeño-baked beans were dark and rich and the pepper wasn’t too spicy. It really just added a little kick that broke from traditional baked beans. You still got the brown sugar sweetness and the pepper helped to offset that a bit. I really enjoyed them. Stephanie who has a well-documented aversion to beans outside of black beans and green beans also enjoyed them and that was a big win for Honky Tonk Smokehouse’s recipe!

The “honky-tonk taters” were boiled red/new potatoes that were seasoned, buttered and filling. I don’t really know what to say other than they were good. I eat potatoes but they’re not my favorite thing, but I did enjoy them.

The mac-n-cheese was cheesy, creamy, thick and not overly baked. Sometimes mac-n-cheese can be too crusty and that makes the top cheese taste kind of tinny and this wasn’t like that. Again, I emphasize the thick part (I love that). Stephanie is a big mac-n-cheese fan and enjoyed these as well.

White Meat Chicken

The collards, as one would probably want, were a bit bitter, fatty and wilted but still firm. They had a great deep green color and were vinegarish-tart, which I love about collards. I never liked collards (or greens of any kind) until I was much older and now, it’s one of the things I seek out. These were good. Earthy, pungent and slightly salty.

The coleslaw reminded me of my mother’s coleslaw, minus the carrots. My mom used to put shredded carrots in hers. But, it’s fine granules and not long thick pieces of cabbage. I like that. This is a barbecue restaurant, right? That’s what goes on barbecue in this area (and yes, they do have a BBQ slaw as well). It was sweet and creamy. Again, Stephanie, who has never liked coleslaw remarked about how much she enjoyed this. Great stuff, this. But, you didn’t read this blog to hear about sides, did you? I didn’t go for the sides, so let’s talk about the star attractions.

Brisket

We started with the baby back ribs. At first glance, I thought they were going to be dry because the rub was so firm and I noticed they weren’t doused in sauce. Well, I was wrong. The meat was plentiful, it was moist and tender. I don’t like my food all over my hands so I eat with a fork and knife when I eat ribs and I didn’t have to fight this rib at all. It literally fell right off the bone. I tried it plain, with their honey chipotle glaze, and with their brown sugar glaze. The rub wasn’t overpowering but certainly enhanced the meat.

The white meat chicken had a small wing attached and that literally fell apart while eating it. It tasted so good. The breast was tender and still juicy which sometimes is difficult with white meat. The rub on it was delicious as well. We tried this with the sweet apple glaze. We tried all the meats plain before putting sauce on them to know what they each tasted like. The chicken and ribs each have their own special rub and then they are smoked. The turkey is brined and then smoked. Speaking of the turkey!

Turkey with Sweet Apple Glaze

I don’t usually get excited about turkey, even at Thanksgiving. It’s just a lackluster bird in my opinion. However, I will say that the turkey was my absolute favorite item that I tasted. It was coated in a bit of the sweet apple glaze, too. The flavor was smoky and sweet. The slices were thick and tender. Whether it was plain (with the glaze), or embellishing the turkey with more of the sweet apple glaze, the brown sugar glaze or the honey chipotle, it was delicious all the way around.

We tried the brisket next. The spicy rub created a crust and the meat fell apart as we tried to pick it up. It was so good. Not at all dry, either; very moist. Stephanie said that the brisket was her absolute favorite and we both agreed that while it was great plain, we really enjoyed the brown sugar glaze on it. Thick, meaty, sweet.

Finally, we had the pulled pork. I realized with this as with most of the other meats (except the turkey), that Sam and Susan don’t pre-sauce their meat. That’s brilliant. I know a lot of BBQ restaurants have their “sauce” that they put on the pork/beef when they serve it, but not at Honky Tonk Smokehouse. Their meats are sauceless and you are free to dress them as you like, not as someone else likes. The pulled pork was smoky and tender. I tried it with their “original” sauce which is a Memphis-style sauce that they make in-house, as well as the brown sugar glaze and the honey chipotle glaze. I could pictures that as a sandwich. Again, pulled, not chopped.

Pulled Pork

I believe Honky Tonk Smokehouse has a fantastic thing going on. They offer styles not only in the “Lexington-” style but have an Eastern dip, their ribs are kind of Kansas City-style and the brisket is definitely Texas-style. They’re touching the standards and they’re making them right. The flavors from the food and the touches the sauces bring, there are plenty of mouth-watering options at Honky Tonk Smokehouse. Their dining room is open and inviting. Don’t forget $.50 wing night Tuesdays from 5-8pm. And Wednesday night is Brisket Taco night. They also offer catering services, as well.

Again, I know that barbecue can be boring but it doesn’t have to be. This isn’t. It’s nothing flashy, though and it isn’t supposed to be. The Platts aren’t trying to dazzle you. They are trying to satisfy you with good food and a great food experience. I believe their location is good but not a lot of people know they’re there. It’s kind of off the road and unless you are coming from Country Club Road toward US421, you may miss it, but then again, you’ll be on the other side of the road. There are several other restaurants in this shopping center and if you stop for those, you can certainly stop for Honky Tonk Smokehouse. I’m putting it at the top of my list of recommendations. Is it my favorite BBQ restaurant? I can’t say, but I know it is right up there. I am a fan of barbecue and this is one darned fine place to get it. You won’t be sorry. Tell them that I sent you!!!

Honky Tonk Smokehouse: Strumming the Right Chord Stephanie and I were invited to visit Honky Tonk Smokehouse to try their offerings and report to our readers (and listeners).