Both Ori and Ira clapped dutifully as the roar of flames subsided into a light sizzle; Ori more so out of the good humor but Ira was not faking his appreciation of the other man’s mad flambé skills in the least. If Ira tried on his own at home that he’d burn Sunnyside to the ground, no doubt about it. It didn’t take long at all for Staas to finish cooking dinner, even with the fancy spread. Ori was delegated to go take the kids to wash their hands and faces in preparation to eat while Ira and Staas brought the food to the table. Ira smiled to himself at the sound of his sister’s delighted giggling at the devil duckies in the bathroom, and probably anything the children had to say about them by way of explanation.
The three danced their way back to the table to grins of adoration from the two adults, and as soon as the hats were removed and everyone took their respective seats, dinner was served. Staas graciously gave her the first plate, but Ori politely waited to start eating until he and Ira were done cutting up the kids’ food; in the meantime watching with fascination as they moved in silent sync with each other. Ira pointedly ignored the knowing look she threw him, smoothing a napkin on his lap and taking the plate that Staas handed him with a nod of thanks.
“I know,” Ori beamed, daintily raising her own glass of lemonade back at him.
“Hear, hear,” Ira intoned, a grin in his voice nonetheless. (Though he was well legal enough to share the wine, milk was his beverage of choice at the moment. Maybe later, though.)
And without much further ado, they all dug in. Ori was making nigh-orgasmic faces at her first few bites of steak, and while Ira wasn’t nearly the meat-lover his sister was, he knew that Staas would make it deliciously and was not disappointed in any way.
“This is fucking amazing,” Ori gushed, once her airway was clear enough for her to speak. “Fuck, oops. Oh, cra—fu—“ she shut up and settled for stuffing another piece of steak into her mouth.
“What is that, three dollars?” Ira asked Alida smugly, spearing up a forkful of salad. “Fifty cents for each of the half-words?”