Two Spoons, One Dish
Two Spoons, One Dish; an Austin & Ally oneshot
I do not own Austin & Ally. Please leave reviews and requests. And a happy 2013 to all!
It starts on a Thursday.
It's hot, too hot to sleep. Here he is, laying on top of his bed in a pair of boxers, and he can feel sweat dripping down his face. He wipes his sweaty face with his even sweatier palm.
Mother Nature needs a stern talking to. Something along the lines of 'Stop trying to roast us like suckling pigs.'
He doesn't want an apple. He wants something cold, that'll make him feel less like booking a one way ticket to Antarctica.
Can he do that?
He shakes the thought. Maybe if he thinks of cold things, he'll feel cooler.
Snow. Ice skating. Ice cream. Frozen corn.
No, not frozen corn. Ice cream.
He picks up the phone. "Hey Ally?"
June 13: Peach Cobbler Ice Cream
"Austin, I was just thinking about you. What's up?" she answers, setting her songbook down.
His heart involuntarily flutters when he hears this. He should scold it, tell it that he doesn't feel that way about her, but she's on the other end of the phone, and it'd be rude to hang up. He was the one to call, after all.
"Would you like to go for ice cream?" His stomach growls at the mention.
"I'm pretty sure all the ice cream shops are closed by now. It's ten thirty on a Thursday." Ten thirty-four to be exact, but it's too hot to get specific.
He groans. "You wouldn't happen to have any in your freezer, would you?"
She gets off the bed, tugging down her shorts. They are very short, and the scraps of her outfit barely cover her. Which in this heat, is precisely the point.
"Let me check." Her bare feet stick to the floor as she makes her way to the kitchen. "Ben and Jerry's Peach Cobbler. You interested?"
He reaches for the shorts he's left abandoned on the floor.
"I'll be there in ten."
He makes it in seven.
June 20: Cannoli Ice Cream
Her phone buzzes. She reads the text. 'Open your front door.'
She obeys, letting him in. "You do realize what time it is, right?"
"Time for ice cream? I'm repaying the favor." He holds up the miniature cooler.
They walk to the kitchen and take two spoons from the dish drainer. She stands on the tips of her toes to grab the bowls. He watches as her tank top rides up. When she turns around, he busies himself with the lid.
This heat must really be getting to him.
"It's half melted."
"Well if you would have answered the door sooner, it wouldn't have melted."
She rolls her eyes. "We better eat it before it melts even more. I don't want to be drinking ice cream soup. Particularly if I could choke on whatever that is."
"That would be a fudge covered cannoli shell. Delicious." He spoons half into his dish.
She scoops the other half into her dish.
"I finished the song."
"I think you're really going to like it."
"You're just going to keep saying mhm so you don't have to stop eating, aren't you?"
June 27: Creme Brulee Ice Cream
This time it's Ally that initiates it.
She tries throwing pebbles at his window. But she isn't the best with aim, and they all hit the side of his house. She decides to throw one last pebble.
It flies right through the open window and lands at Austin's feet.
"You could have called, y'know," he calls down to her.
"I left my phone at home. These shorts don't have pockets." Her shorts are longer this week. Not by much, as the heat doesn't seem to be disappearing any time soon. When he meets her at the front door, and she drops the spoons she's brought along, and he doesn't get a glimpse of anything as she bends down to grab them, he feels disappointed.
Not that he'll admit it.
"My parents are asleep, so we'll have to be quiet." He takes the spoons to wash in the sink.
"Well, it is ten thirty at night. I wasn't planning on making a lot of noise."
"Says the girl who threw pebbles at the side of my house." He wipes them dry on a dish towel.
Ally peels back the lid. "If you're going to make fun of me, I'll just take my caramel sugar swirls elsewhere."
He doesn't say another word the rest of the night.
July 4:Chubby Hubby Ice Cream
At the Independence Day picnic, he takes her aside. He sticks his head in the rolled down window of the car, reaching for the mini cooler in the front seat.
To his dangling backside, she asks, "What are you doing?"
"Fudge covered peanut butter filled pretzels in vanilla malt ice cream," he says, producing the pint.
"Now? That carton isn't big enough for the four of us." She looks over her shoulder to see Dez and Trish sleeping under a tree.
He produces two spoons from his back pocket.
"Then we better eat it before they wake up." He hands her a spoon.
"What, no bowls?"
He pauses. "Hold this."
He sneaks back to the party, stealing a plate. He returns, taking the carton back from her. He scoops half onto her plate and passes it to her.
He eats out of the carton.
July 11: Late Night Snack Ice Cream
"This one is appropriately named." She holds the empty container for him to read.
"Ten thirty is considered late night?" He bites into a fudgy potato chip cluster.
She dips her spoon into her bowl. "What would you consider to be late night then?"
"Eleven fifty nine?"
"Really Austin?" She shoves a heaping spoonful in her mouth.
"Yeah. After that it's early morning." He licks his spoon.
She shakes her head. There's so much she could say, but her mouth is full.
She swallows. "If we keep doing this, I'm going to get fat."
"You're not going to be one of those girls, are you?"
Despite her words, she heaps more onto her spoon. "What kind of girl?"
"The type that always worry about how thin they are, or how pretty guys think they are. It's annoying." He sets his spoon down, careful not to let it fall victim to the salty caramel. "Especially when they're perfect, just the way they are."
She blushes. He can't tell because she's managed to get a sunburn, even after applying copious amounts of sunscreen. Still, she looks down to hide it.
"No, I'm not that girl."
July 18: Peanut Brittle Ice Cream
If it weren't for these ice cream Thursdays, he would really hate this weather. The weather man had lied, saying it was going to rain today.
Stupid weather man. He bets that he's in cahoots with Mother Nature.
He plunks the carton down on the table. "Pick a bowl."
"They're exactly the same."
"The one on the left has more brittle. The one on the right has more caramel swirl." He points to each with his spoon.
Her hand hovers above both of them. It wavers side to side.
"Which one do you want?"
"I want the one that you don't want."
"Then I'll take this one. I know how you love your peanuts." She pushes his dish towards him.
He digs his spoon in. "You sure you don't want this one?"
"Would you rather argue and let your ice cream melt or take the dish I gave you?"
"I just don't want you giving it up if you want it." He had already gotten to see that sliver of her back tonight. He could at least pay her back by giving her choice of ice cream.
She sticks his spoon in the dish, and lifts a chunk of brittle to his mouth.
"Thank you Ally."
"Just don't talk with your mouth full, okay? That brittle could take an eye out."
July 25: Imagine Whirled Peace Ice Cream
"Oh, I get it. It's a pun." He laughs around a chunk of toffee cookie.
"Is that why you've been staring at the carton?"
No, actually he's been avoiding staring at how low cut that strapless tank top is. But sure, let's go with that.
"It's been a long day. I'm tired." He yawns, spooning up more ice cream.
"We didn't have to eat ice cream tonight." She wipes the sweet ice cream off her face with a napkin.
He waits until his mouth is empty. "But it's Thursday."
As if that explains everything.
In a way, it kind of does.
August 1: Chocolate Nougat Crunch Ice Cream
"What do you mean you don't have the ice cream?" he says when he arrives at her doorstep.
"My dad accidentally ate it. It's not like I've told him about these Thursday night...meetings." She struggles to find the right word to fill in the blank. It's not a date, as they aren't together.
His shoulders slump. "I guess we can't have a Thursday night...meeting this week. This sucks."
He stalls on the word meeting. As the rest of his words tumble out of his mouth, his mind dwells on the word. It drags it out, emphasizing different parts. It never sounds right.
Maybe because it's more than a meeting.
"The gas station quickie mart is open all night. We could see if they have ice cream."
He thinks about it. The ice cream will melt by the time they get back to her house. They'll have to eat it there.
"Bring the spoons."
When they get to the quickie mart, there isn't much ice cream left on the shelf. He grabs the first one he sees, dwelling in front of the freezer until the cashier gives him a pointed look to quit it. They close the door.
After buying the ice cream, they lean against the outside of the building. He opens the carton.
This time she doesn't ask about the bowls. She just excavates a fudge wafer cookie and sticks it in her mouth.
Two spoons, one dish.
Austin decides he likes this.
August 8: What a Cluster Ice Cream
She licks her lips. He averts his eyes.
There is no way these Thursday nights can continue being 'meetings' if he gives in and kisses her. Then she'll probably get angry and dump the carton of ice cream on his head. Refreshing, considering its practically three hundred degrees outside. Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration.
It's clearly only two hundred ninety-four.
No, he refuses to look at the thermometer, because Mother Nature is not budging and just hearing the weather man say that they're in the triple digits is enough to kill his spirit. So until she caves, he will continue to make false statements about the weather.
"This peanut butter and marshmallow swirl is very sticky," she comments.
Now he really does want to kiss her, because then their lips will stick together and she can't let go. Even if he only gets to kiss her once in his life, he's wants to make it worth it.
He hopes that their first kiss won't be their last.
He polishes off his spoon.
Taking in her short shorts and tank top ensemble, he pokes his spoon back in the carton.
He's not going to risk it.
Aug 15: Banana Split Ice Cream
As she crunches on a walnut, something occurs to him.
It's not her skimpy pajamas or the summer heat making him want to kiss her. It's that smile, and that laugh, and the way she says his name when she opens the door.
It's so many more things that he can't keep count.
He sucks on his spoon.
"You're awfully quiet tonight," she notices.
"My parents are asleep." He plunges his spoon into the carton, trying to get as much ice cream as he can onto the spoon.
She picks up a napkin. "I know, but normally you say something. You've said all of five words to me tonight."
He takes his time eating what's amounted on his spoon. Then when he's done, he sets it down.
"I just got a lot on my mind."
"Want to talk about it?"
He'd rather sit here and stuff his face with ice cream, because there is no way he's ruining this friendship.
He should have bought a quart.
August 22: Vanilla Ice Cream
Of all the crazy flavors he could have picked, he chose the plainest flavor in the entire freezer section.
With everything on his mind, this is the last thing he needs to worry about. He needs time to worry about things like chapped lips and forgotten words and how his best friend is going to react when he tells her he loves her.
It's the last Thursday before school starts again. And then he knows that they won't be able to do this anymore, because there's thing called school night curfew, and he'd rather not break it.
Besides, this heat wave isn't going to last forever, right? He overheard his dad watching the weather, and it's gone down a whole five degrees.
Thank God for small victories.
Now how about a large one? Pretty please, with a maraschino cherry on top?
"Vanilla?" she asks when he meets her on the front step. He closes the door behind him.
"How about we eat outside tonight?" He says instead of answering her question. She shrugs.
They choose a spot under the tree. There's the light from the stars and moon, but otherwise, it's dark. Perfect for staying hidden.
She goes to tear off the lid. She realizes neither of them have the spoons.
"Sorry. I heard my dad get up, and I forgot to get the spoons because I was rushing out before he caught me which is ridiculous because my curfew doesn't kick in until Monday, but nobody knows about us and I-"
He kisses her.
She doesn't see it coming. That doesn't stop her from dropping the, thankfully closed, carton of ice cream to the grass. It definitely doesn't stop her from reciprocating.
"I would like people to know about us," he says.
"About our ice cream meetings?"
"Ally, if we're going to be honest, we both know these aren't just ice cream meetings." He leans into her. "Do you get what I mean?"
She blinks at him. The thoughts are whirring through her brain, and it's hard to keep up. She doesn't know what to say. But they always say that actions speak louder than words.
So she kisses him.
The ice cream melts.
And for once, neither of them care.