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- " ... How d'you say that again ? "
Cristiano shook his head at Paulo's question, not looking up at him as he went on making them his own favorite Portuguese dish "Bacalhau à Brás" .
- " I'm pretty sure the first 10 times were enough for you to remember it, Paulino. "
- " Not a very patient teacher, are you? "
Paulo scoffed, playfully swinging his legs. He was sat on the counter in Cris' kitchen, watching as the older went on slicing the potatoes, immersed in the process of cooking almost the same way he gets immersed in the game. The Portuguese star's ability to do anything he puts his mind into driven by an unmatched focus and passion was one of the many, many things Paulo admired about him.
He couldn't help but admire Cris' natural talent for cooking, as well; although the man's personal chef had prepared the cod for him overnight as well as getting him all the ingredients he might possibly need, but it was the thought that counted, it was Cris' idea to make them food himself that evening, just like it was his idea to teach Paulo some Portuguese whenever they had a chance to.
And the boy more than liked both ideas.
- " Come on now , say it.. " The man ordered as he was washing his hands, getting prepared to fry the potatoes. Paulo squeezed his eyes shut, trying to summon the name to his memory.
- " Bacalhau... à... brásh? "
- " À brasss- " The man enunciated the last -s- making the boy wince at his mistake. In his defense he was somewhat sleepy, and it was somewhat hard to focus while watching the older move around the kitchen wearing nothing but a tight sports trousers underneath the apron.
- " Bacalhau à Brás. " He repeated, voice almost lost in the sound of the oil sizzling as Cris poured the sliced potatoes into it. " BACALHAU À BRÁS!! "
- " Good boy.. " Cris giggled at the boy's yell, he eyed him while putting his gloves on. " You're a fast learner. " He mocked, earning an eye-roll from the Argentinian.
- " And you're a mean teacher.. " He joked as he jumped off the counter, walking towards the man who only smiled at the child-like grumpiness.
- " Now can you tell me what I'm holding in my hands ? "
Paulo switched his eyes between the man's face and his hands, the same big, veiny hands that were doing unspeakable things to him moments ago, and the thought of that as well as the closeness to the man's body and his godly-sculpted naked torso fogged up his focus more and more.
- " Onions and garlic- "
- " In Portuguese. " Cris interrupted sternly, eliciting an impatient sigh from the boy.
- " Estes são, um.. cebollas- " (onions)
- " Cebolas, " The man corrected Paulo who had instinctively went with the Spanish pronunciation of the word. " E? " (and?)
