The Art of Cooking

This was supposed to just be a cute little fic about grocery shopping (because that’s literally the only kind of shopping that matters to me) and then somehow turned into…well, this, so, um, yeah.
Modern AU. Developing E/R.
From the moment he set foot in the grocery store, Enjolras felt like a cat who had its fur pet the wrong way. It wasn’t that he had anything against the grocery store, specifically, other than the fact that there always seemed to be unaccompanied minors running around and getting in the way, and he somehow always wound up in line behind the slowest old lady with an oxygen tank who had eighty tins of cat food that she unloaded from her cart one at a time, and really, if Enjolras could subsist on something besides food, he probably would.
Because the problem with food was that it took time, both to shop for and to cook, and one thing that was at a premium for Enjolras was time. He traveled all the time, and normally ate at least one meal at work, and that meant whatever few minutes he actually spared in his apartment were better spent doing things other than cooking.
Unfortunately, not eating wasn’t an option, and Enjolras had already eaten all the stale packages of ramen he had stashed in his panty (and Combeferre had physically barred him from his apartment, saying he was tired of Enjolras eating all of his food, and the Chinese takeout place down the street had started to get that fake sympathetic tone whenever he called to order food for one), so he sucked it up and headed to the closest grocery store.
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237 notes

The Art of Cooking

6 years ago - 237 notes