“You can’t be serious.”

“Watch me.” Amelia smirked defiantly at Rachel as she tossed the pork into the pot. 

“It’s called Beef Stroganoff, what is wrong with you.”

“Boys don’t know this,” Amelia hummed, happily ignoring Rachel who hovered somewhere between exasperated disbelief and laughing her absolute tits off. Lily sat at the table, leaning on her hand, pretending like she hadn’t finished dicing the mushrooms minutes ago, and enjoying the smells and, more importantly, the noises. Ever since she’d been on hormones (thanks, Mom, and Mom’s health insurance) everything had been so much more intense. She’d asked her GP if the hormones were supposed to amplify her senses, and the answer had been a resounding ‘no, but actually yes’. 

Apparently, her doctor had told her, dysphoria was one of those things that made it really hard to live in your own body, and had a tendency to cause dissociation. Even with Lily’s love of food, it was only after coming into herself that she’d begun to realize just how much more of a person she was when she wasn’t trying to think herself away from her own body. She cried more. The world had more colours in it. Voices had more colour in them. Especially these voices.

Rachel tossed her hands in the air in mock indignation, gave Amelia a very dramatically affronted kiss on the cheek, and then turned to look at Lily. “Enjoying the show?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. 

“You have no idea,” Lily said with a smile, and offered her the bowl. “You two are really cute together.” They were. It was strange for her to realize that. That she wasn’t competing with Amelia for anything. That Amelia hadn’t taken Rachel from her at all, that the only thing she stood to lose was time, and that was something that could be worked around with planning and a group chat (currently full of cat pictures). And in turn, Amelia made Rachel smile. She made her laugh. She made her snort when she giggled in that way that made her really embarrassed and Lily fall for her even more. 

“You’re terrible,” Rachel said, gave Lily a kiss on the nose, and took the bowl from her, then handed it to Amelia. “Both of you are.” Amelia tossed the mushrooms in the skillet and stirred them with the onions, too focused to respond.

“And we love you,” Lily said dreamily, then clamped her mouth shut. Rachel blinked a few times, and then slowly turned to look at her. They locked eyes, and both of them froze, like deer in headlights. Like gay sheep. Oh no. It had only been a few weeks since that first conversation. They hadn’t even done much more than handholding. Amelia looked at Rachel with a smirk. 

“Y’all didn’t say it yet?” she asked, looking inordinately pleased. Lily couldn’t look away, despite the fact that what she wanted to do most was find a very small hole and crawl inside it. Maybe the spade she’d rented from the neighbour to poke at the drainpipe was still out in the hall, and she could use it to dig herself out of the situation. They hadn’t said it yet, despite the fact that she’d felt it for some time. She just didn’t want to presume, didn’t want Rachel to feel pressured to say or feel a certain way. Rachel slowly shook her head, but the corners of her mouth started to curl up too. “You two are precious,” Amelia said, and added the now-golden-brown mushrooms and the broth to the pot. “God I hope this works,” she added, more to herself than anyone else.

“It’ll work,” Lily mumbled, her mouth on auto-pilot since her brain was away on hole-digging duty. Despite the fact that they were cooking together, she’d done what she could beforehand to assure the dish would be as close to perfect as she could get it. Letting people help her with food was a big step. She was allowed to take some baby steps leading up to it. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed to Rachel. She really hadn’t meant to make things uncomfortable or awkward. She shouldn’t have said anything, and now Rachel was going to think she was either pushy or clingy, and she’d pull a—

“I love you too, dumbass,” Rachel said. 

“Oh.”

“Why do you look surprised?” Amelia giggled. “You’re so oblivious.”

“What?!” Lily asked, taking her turn on the indignity stand, taking the excuse to look away from Rachel with both hands and running with it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rachel rolled her eyes and closed the distance between the two of them. “Stand up.” Lily looked at her for a moment, baffled by the sudden command, not realizing that her legs were already following orders before her brain had given it a second thought. “You’re so... “ she sighed and shook her head, then took Lily’s face in her hands and kissed her with the kind of passion normally reserved for romance novel covers. 

Lily let it wash over her. Rachel’s hands running through her hair. Her soft lips pressed against her own. The hammering of Rachel’s chest against her own. When her attacker pulled away, Lily realized she’d wrapped her arms around Rachel’s waist, and couldn’t let go because she was probably going to fall over if she did. 

“Guess what,” Rachel said, quietly. 

“What?” 

“I think I might have a crush on you.” Rachel’s smug expression was insufferable. Insufferably attractive. Insufferably kissable. She gave in to the urge, then pouted. She’d found herself being a lot more sensitive to teasing ever since the hormones had started to kick in. She had also found herself not minding the teasing.

“Bully.”

“You deserve to be bullied,” Amelia butted in. “I thought Rachel was a bottom, but boy howdy do you give her a run for her money.” Rachel spun around, with Lily’s arms still around her. 

“Excuse me?” Rachel asked, but she leaned back a bit, letting Lily rest her chin on her shoulder and give her a kiss on the cheek. Lily did her best to look a bit offended too, but at this point it wasn’t really worth the effort. 

“God, you two are cute together,” Amelia said, stirring the pot literally and figuratively. Rachel’s face was the battleground between two expressions, and the grin won from the frown, by a landslide. 

“I know,” Rachel said, then sauntered over to the cupboard and retrieved three glasses. Lily took the opportunity to grab the wine and the water, and together they finished setting the table, getting in each other’s way like only people who want to get in each other’s way can. When Amelia finally put the pot on the table, everyone was smiling happily. Rachel at the head of the table, and Amelia and Lily on either side of her.

“Bon appetit,” Rachel said, raising her glass. “To our culinary expertise.”

“Bone apple teeth,” Amelia said, mimicking the gesture. “To imminent food poisoning.”

“Osteoporosis,” Lily said, raising her own. “To the queer disasters that have made these past few months impossibly and unbearably wonderful.” Amelia’s self-satisfied expression softened. 

“Hey, you weren’t supposed to be all genuine.” She winked. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Osteoporosis?” Rachel was repeating the word to herself. 

“Bone atrophy,” Amelia filled in. “Plate.” As she offered what was asked, Rachel scoffed, but Lily got the feeling she only did so to hide the fact that she didn’t want to admit that it was actually tickling her funny bone. Amelia gave everyone a good helping, and they dug in. Lily realized she was being critical, of course. Food was important to her. It always had been. From home, but even there she’d been a bit of an odd duck in the family. There was just something deeply personal about food. About who you serve it to. Who serves it to you. It was an act of service, sure, but also an act of kindness, of giving. Making food carried so many meanings with it. Which was why she didn’t want to say anything. She didn’t have to.

“Um,” Rachel said. “Now, I’ve never had beef stroganoff before…”

“Me neither…” Amelia said. Both of them sheepishly looked at their plate, and then up at Lily. Their apologetic expression was almost comical. “I… I don’t know if…” Lily bit her tongue to keep from laughing. 

“Amelia…” she asked carefully. 

“Yes?” 

“What kind of flour did you use?” 

“The normal kind,” Amelia said. “It’s on the counter.” Lily didn’t have to look. 

“The brown bag? With the green label?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s powdered sugar.”

Rachel nearly choked on her wine. For a moment, Amelia grew really red in the face, and then started laughing, throwing her head in her neck the way Lily had seen her do several times before. A hearty belly-laugh, the pure joy of someone who had learned to let go of her own embarrassment and find joy in it. “Oh my god,” Amelia said. “That’s why it… it tastes…”

“Awful,” Rachel said, hiccuping and releasing the occasional adorable giggle-snort. “It’s so bad, I literally white-girl-can’t-even.” Lily couldn’t even speak. What had started as a little giggle in her throat had come bubbling up as a full-on laugh too, and it wasn’t long before she had tears in her eyes. 

“We — what do we — what do we do?” Amelia barely managed to get out. 

“I’m done cooking for the night,” Lily giggled. “But I’m not eating this.”

“Do you want to just order pizza?” Rachel asked. Both Amelia and Lily nodded. While they poured everything out and did the dishes, Rachel made the call. She had to repeat her order twice, because she couldn’t stop laughing. Finally, the three of them sat down on the sofa. “Lily,” Rachel said, “I’m so sorry our first time cooking together was an unmitigated disaster.” Despite the smile on her face, the apology did feel genuine. There was a worry there, Lily could feel it. 

“Better next time,” she said with a smile and kissed her girlfriend. They looked each other in the eyes for a moment, and Lily just nodded. Sometimes, a little reassurance takes no real effort, and goes a long way. With one more little kiss, Lily crawled under Rachel’s arm, who pulled her closer. Amelia seemed to take that as a signal to do the same, and Rachel had to prop up both of her arms to hold the two girls against her. 

“You two are impossible,” she said. 

“Impossibly cute,” Amelia said. She held out her fist, and Lily bumped it. Even without being able to see her face, Lily knew Rachel was rolling her eyes. 

“You’re still getting up when the pizza gets here.” Amelia and Lily both gave a thumbs up, but didn’t move. Lily was far too comfortable. She never thought she’d be where she was now, curled up against a girl she’d just earlier told she loved, and truly comfortable. Were there things she’d change? Sure. About herself, mostly. Hormones had brought the things she didn’t like about her body into further contrast. But about this situation? Here, now? None. She tried for a moment to remember when she had last felt this absolutely content, and realized it was pointless. 

“Hey,” she said, licking her dry lips, trying to find the perfect words.

“What’s up babe?” Rachel asked, and kissed her on the crown of her head.

“I just… I’m really grateful. To both of you.” She scooted just a little closer to Rachel, as if she could suddenly slip away. 

“You’re welcome,” Amelia said. “For what?”

“Just… everything. I never thought I’d be here. I never thought I’d be this. I never thought I’d be Lily. I never thought I’d get to be Lily. I never thought I’d get to be gay. I never thought I’d… I just… I’m glad you two helped me figure all this out. It means… everything.”

“You’re a big sap,” Amelia said. “And you’re very welcome. You’re a delightful metamour.”

“You’re welcome, Lily,” Rachel said, that softness to her voice, like a wind chime rustling in the breeze, the way she said Lily’s name melting on her soul like chocolate in her mouth. “I’m glad I met you. I’m glad I get to meet you for real. And I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And you,” Rachel said to Amelia. “I love you too.”

“How dare you make me be authentic.”

“I will bite you.”

“I love you too, Rach,” Amelia relented without a hint of irony. Silence fell over them again, and Lily smiled, listening to Rachel’s heartbeat, feeling the soft rise and fall of her chest. Some things, Lily knew, were better if you did them just right. The right amount of spices. The perfect time to sear. 

But some things are better if you just take them as they come, and let your big, stupid, sappy heart do the measuring, the judging, and the talking. Some things taste better with loved ones.