Uploading this caused me problems, but if you're reading this, it's up.
I should probably step away from the computer for a while. Static electricity stings.
They had started dating two months ago, but it hadn't been easy finding the time to actually go out on dates. Surprisingly, there had been a rise of activity throughout Skylands after a relatively peaceful period. And when trouble's brewing, the Skylanders had to step in. Unfortunately, it left the two of them very little time to spend together alone. And for the past couple months, they had been making do with what they had. They asked Eon to assign them missions together, they took walks while running errands, they tried to meet each other whenever they could.
But for some reason, Ghost Roaster could never get Grim Reaper to come down and have a meal with him. Though the two of them were ghouls, and had no real need to eat, Ghost Roaster kept doing so anyways. "It makes me feel like I'm alive again," he confessed. "I can't get the feeling of it filling my stomach, but the taste and the flavour is all there. So even though it's not 'practical', I can't help but feel nostalgic when I taste good food."
It was a known fact that ghouls could taste. There was no real need for food, but for reasons unknown, a sense of taste was included. It was a strange feature to be added to a species which had no need for taste. But considering that most ghouls were once living beings, many scientists suspect that it was a carry-over from their days as living beings. And that trait had managed to survive on, even in ghosts who were descended from thousands of generations of ghosts. Ghosts like Grim Creeper.
Ghost Roaster always found it weird that Grim never joined them in the mess hall. For most Skylanders, meal times were a way to bond with their friends without fearing for their lives. Even those who physically could not eat joined in for the company. Yet, Grim never wanted to join in. And Ghost Roaster, curious as anything, was determined to find out why.
During one Eon-assigned mission, they ended up needing to take a long walk together. The M.A.P may lead everywhere in Skylands, but not all roads were created equal. For some locations, they were only a stone's throw away. But for others, they needed to embark on quests to get there. This particular journey would neither be short nor epic, but it would take a couple of hours to arrive there on foot. So during that time, Ghost Roaster decided that it would be the best time to probe him. Not obviously or in a pressuring sort of way, but hopefully, he would be able to find out what his problem was.
"Hey Grim, I was thinking…" He started, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend. "Next week, Lob-Star will be busy helping to see if any of the cadets have 'Trap Master potential'. So I'll be planning the whole menu."
Grim nodded, a sign that he was listening. "Oh, that's nice."
"And as I was thinking about it, I realised that you never seem to want to come and have meals with me. Every time I invite you to come, you always give me some excuse." And he could get quite 'creative' with those excuses too. Just last week, he claimed that he had promised to help Fiesta wash his hair for a concert he was holding in the evening. Before Ghost Roaster could point out that Fiesta did not, in fact, have hair, Grim had disappeared as quickly as a birthday cake in a popular kid's birthday party. "Why do you want to get out of mealtimes so badly anyways?"
Ghost Roaster felt Grim tense up, and out of instinct he reached to grab his hand. "You don't have to tell me why, if you're not up for it-" he began.
"No, no," said Grim, finally speaking up. He squeezed Ghost Roaster's hand tightly, and breathed in a deep sigh. "Well, honestly, the reason I don't really want to do it… It's not really for one specific reason." Ghost Roaster raised a brow, and Grim cleared his throat.
"Well, first off, you know I don't like to miss out on things," said Grim, sticking out a thumb to denote it as reason number one. "If someone invites me to do stuff, I can't just sit and watch. I gotta get involved in that action. But that kind of becomes a problem when…" He grew silent. As if he wanted to share something, but halfway through he was stopped by his own embarrassment.
"Grim?"
Grim turned to look at Ghost Roaster, a bashful look in his eye. "Can you keep a secret?" He whispered.
Though he didn't quite understand his boyfriend's strange behaviour, Ghost Roaster nodded. Once he did, Grim sighed, and a small but secure smile appeared on his face.
"To be honest Roastie, I feel really embarrassed telling you of all people this..." he sighed and rubbed his neck. "But I honestly never really found a food I enjoyed eating that much."
And the minute he said that, the realisation hit Ghost Roaster like a sledgehammer.
"Oh, why- uh, what do you mean by that?" He asked, curious as anything. Grim looked away from him and back towards the path.
"I mean that when I eat stuff, it never tastes the way I expect it to. Ever since I was a kid, everyone always wanted me to try good food. Like, they'd give me stuff that's supposed to be really high-quality, and they'll ask me to try it. And I know they just want to share something that makes them happy, and I appreciate that, I really do. But whenever I eat any of the really good food they recommend… I dunno… a lot of it just tastes bland to me."
Ghost Roaster nodded. "Unconventional tastes, huh?" They were more common among the Undead than the living, but usually unconventional tastes meant eating inedible objects.
"Could be." Grim shrugged. "The closest I ever got to tasting something I really liked was when I tried cotton candy during one of our fundraiser fairs. And even then, I would only rate it a six. This is when most of the food I've tried has been a five, for the record."
Ghost Roaster nodded, his mind buzzing with a mixture of thoughts. On one hand, he knew how it felt to be left out. He understood that feeling well, the need to escape once you realised that there was no space for you to exist. In his mind, he thought that it would probably be wise to let Grim be.
Yet, on the other hand, his heart wanted him to find a way to include his boyfriend. Though leaving a space was understandable, and in some instances, even comforting, he always found that others finding a way to include you felt a hundred times better than leaving ever would.
"What sort of food have you tried, anyways?" He asked.
"You know, regular stuff. Lobster, turkey, all sorts of pies, because my Mom really liked pies. Roastie…" He turned back to face him. "You're starting to drool."
"Ah, sorry. But you really didn't like stuff like that? Were they cooked right?" Anything would taste terrible if it was cooked poorly.
"Yeah, it was fine stuff. All the stuff I tried had been well-cooked. I had parents who were good cooks, plus there's all the stuff I tried while in the Skylanders. Remember the Christmas feast last year?" Ghost Roaster remembered. He, Hugo, and Lob-Star spent three days cooped up in the kitchen cooking the meal. "It was a really well-made meal Roastie, don't get me wrong. But, what I tasted was just… okay to me. Like, it wasn't bad at all! But I didn't find it as great and as delicious as everyone else did, and I don't know why."
Ghost Roaster nodded, unsure about what else to add. He didn't really need to add much to the conversation anyways, because the two of them were about to arrive at the alleged source of the nearby town's problems. The reason why they were called there in the first place. Before them, standing there in all it's gloomy, shadowy, foul-smelling glory, was an old abandoned factory on the edge of a town.
"Well, here it is," said Grim, brandishing his scythe. "You want me to go in first? I'll call you if I need backup."
Ghost Roaster nodded. "I'll be sure to stand by. Send me a signal when you need me to come in."
And with that agreement, Grim phased through the wall, ready to begin investigations on the abandoned factory.
They easily busted the criminals in the factory, and returned all of the goods they had stolen back to the town's people. It was almost unbelievable, how many leather goods those crooks managed to steal. The town was predominantly filled with cattle farmers, and their main export was milk, beef and leather. Those thieves came from a rival village, with cow products of lesser quality and an envious mayor.
They were told by the townspeople that they didn't need to get involved with their dispute, but Grim and Ghost Roaster told Master Eon about it anyways. "If things escalate and get worse, at least he'd have seen it coming."
Once that was done, they both kissed each other goodnight, and headed back to their dorms. And once Grim closed his door behind him, he sighed in satisfaction. Home sweet home. He had spent the entire day running around Skylands, helping to fix problems and fight crime, and it was good to finally have a moment to relax.
Just like eating, sleep was an activity which many Undead did not need to do, but some did it anyways. But unlike eating, Grim found that he actually rather enjoyed sleep. He found it relaxing, especially after a hard day's work. And ever since he moved to the world of the living, he found himself sleeping more often, simply because staying awake for nights and nights made him feel rather lonely. Sleeping was, in some respects, his way of integrating with the rest of living society.
And so he jumped into bed, tired by the day's activities. He tucked himself underneath a soft, warm quilt, and drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When he woke up again, as usual, the sun had only just started to rise. As usual, the air was still cool and he was slightly warm under his quilt. But what was unusual that day was that instead of the soft sounds of chirping birds, the first sound to reach his ears was the tap-tap-tap of someone knocking on his door.
He blinked. Who could that be? His first assumption was that it was Hugo, and that Master Eon wanted him to do some mission they had received early in the morning. So he dragged himself out of bed, and shuffled over to open his door. But when he opened it, he was surprised to see Ghost Roaster standing there, dressed in the pink and yellow apron Grim had gotten him for his birthday.
"Roastie?" He cocked his head to one side, and looked down at his apron. Splatters of some sort of bronze syrup and flour covered over the pattern of adorable pink bunnies. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be preparing breakfast for everyone else?"
Ghost Roaster smiled. "Already did that. After we returned, I decided to get on with the meal planning, and I cooked up most of the food at least an hour before we usually get started." He wrapped an arm around Grim, and that action pulled him out of his dorm and into the hallway. It was moments like these where Grim was glad that he did not sleep in pyjamas. "Don't worry though. The food's safe. I took some extra measures to make sure all of it won't get contaminated."
"And those measures are?"
"Magic! We've recently gotten some pretty decent food warmers - thank Mags and Persephone for that - and we'd been trying them out. So far, they're working pretty well."
"Ah." Grim nodded, despite not understanding fully why he was so excited. Nevertheless, the sight of Ghost Roaster so happy and excited was enough to put a smile on his face. He felt Ghost Roaster's bony hand wrap around his.
"So with preparing breakfast out of the way, that meant I had a little bit of time to myself to work on my own stuff. And that's what I want to show you." He grinned, and Grim knew that he was probably proud of his work. He also probably wanted to show him the final product, which made Grim wonder what he had made. Perhaps it was one of those fancy pies or cakes he keeps showing him. He did always say that he wanted to improve his decorating skills.
Curious, he followed him from the Undead dorms to the kitchen. Through the stairs, across the dining area, and finally into the kitchen. Looking around, he spotted about a dozen other kitchen staff running around, cleaning up bowls and spoons and various other cooking utensils that Grim did not know the names of. Through the corner of his eye, he spotted the magic heaters and the swathes of food under it. Enough to feed an army. And only thirteen people made it all.
"So, I was thinking about what you said last night, and I guess I was a little surprised at your taste in food. Don't get me wrong, it's hardly your fault, but I think I needed to adjust the way I thought about cooking."
Grim nodded, unsure about where he was talking the conversation.
"See, I was trained with a living being's palette in mind. And for the most part, I was really only trained with one type of palette in mind too. Over the course of my life, I learned how to make new and different types of food for different folks, but obviously I still have much to learn. So, to make this dish, I had to break a few rules. But," He turned to smile at his boyfriend, and wrapped both his hands around Grim's. "I hope you enjoy this."
Grim smiled a wry smile. "What did you do Roastie?"
"Oh, I just made you a breakfast."
And once he said that, he pushed out a blue plate in front of Grim. On it, there was a small stack of three fat pancakes. All of them were dripping with an abundance of golden syrup, powdered sugar, various fruits and berries, and it was all topped off with what looked like a drizzle of chocolate. It smelled almost horrendously sweet, and it looked like if someone were to cut it, a river of sugar would pour out of it and fill the room.
"See, when I was taught cooking, I was taught that we shouldn't make things too sweet, because most living things don't like their food too sweet. But to adjust food for your tastes, I think I need to break a few rules." He smiled, and handed Grim a knife and a fork.
Grim gingerly accepted the utensils and looked at the pancake stack again. From where he stood, it certainly looked nice. Ghost Roaster clearly put in a lot of effort into making it. But a part of him was still a bit nervous at trying something new. Not just because of the uncertainty which came before trying a new dish, but also because he was unsure of what his reaction to the dish would be. He really wanted to turn to his boyfriend and gush about how good it was, how good a cook he was. But he also didn't want to lie, and he wasn't quite sure what he would say if he didn't like it.
Still, Ghost Roaster was looking at him with eager eyes, anticipating his response. So he stabbed his fork through the food, and cut out a small piece for him to try.
The moment he put the pancake into his mouth, it was as if he went through a religious experience.
He broke off another piece of pancake, and popped it into his mouth. And then another, and then another. Eventually, he stopped himself and made himself indulge in the flavour, allowing the different types of sweetness - the chocolate and the sugar and the syrup and the pancake itself - to fill his taste buds. The pancakes were obnoxiously sweet. Any living person, unless they had a particularly strong sweet tooth, would probably be turned away from it. But Grim found himself loving it. Taking the time to chew and swallow and relish in the taste. It was like heaven, feeling this meal melt in his mouth. Finally, a dish with a flavour so strong, so overwhelming, so sweet, he could enjoy it fully.
He looked up from his meal for a second, his mouth stuffed and his cheeks puffed out in both directions, to see Ghost Roaster watching him. "So, how do you find your meal?" He asked
Grim tried his best to swallow his food so that he could respond. And after half a minute, his mouth was freed up. "It's perfect! Next time, could you make more meals like this?"
Ghost Roaster nodded his head, beaming. "I certainly will."