Yondu
yawns nuzzling his neck before sitting up and stretches back popping.
He sniffs smelling the food and hums a bit. “Hmmm… smells good.” Stands
and waits for Carlos to join him as they head down to eat finding the
table decorated with food. “Ohh.”Mr Ramon looked up from where he had just placed a tortilla warmer on the table and he grinned at them. “Hello… just a little something I whipped up.”
There was a dish of spicy-smelling ground meat on the table, along with a bowl of shredded cheese, a bowl of chopped lettuce, some sour cream, a small glass bowl of chopped olives, and the tortillas. There was also a pitcher of a pinkish-red juice that looked like Mr Ramon had actually made earlier that week.
Carlos laughed sheepishly. “Dad… this isn’t just something you ‘whip up’.”
Mr Ramon just kept smiling at him. “Well, this is a special ‘whip up’ occasion. It’s not every day my son comes home from being lost… and also getting to meet the person who saved him and brought him home.” Mr Ramon’s voice started to sound a little broken at the end and he cleared his throat, turning away to rub at his eyes.
Yondus fin flashed just a bit sensing the mood shift and can’t help but smile a bit and walk over putting his arm over his shoulders in a kind of hug. “Thanks mr.ramon.” Takes a seat looking at the food and grins. He watched how it was to be done then makes up one himself unsure about the veggies but added them anyway before taking a bite eyes wide then shoved the whole thing in his mouth.
Mr Ramon was a little surprised by the hug, but he smiled and returned it as best he could – one hand was supporting him with his cane still, of course. He settled in his own seat and Mikey rolled up to his side of the table. Carlos sat down in the additional seat – Yondu took his usual one, but he didn’t mind at all.
Looking at Yondu scarf down the soft taco he made Carlos chuckled softly. “Careful – eating the tortillas too fast could give you hiccups,” he said. Carlos took a bite of his own and almost immediately he let out a groan of happiness and longing. “Oh my god,” he murmured, his mouth full. “I missed this so much…”
“What, they don’t have Mexican food in space?” Mikey teased his brother.
Carlos laughed. “No… though some Hraxian dishes have the spice in them that I’m more used to. But it’s closer to Indian than Mexican spice…”
“Yondu, I have some juice here,” Mr Ramon explained to their guest, pointing to the pitcher. “It’s made of pomegranate and grape. It’s not citrus, which was what you described to me… if you’d like you can have a taste. Or I can get you some water instead, or cow’s milk.”
Yondu goes after another taco 🌮 and then goes for some of the other dishes. He was about to answer then blinks when he said cow. “I’m not a girl………. and even so… that’s insulting.”
Mr Ramon was confused for a second. “What?”
At first Carlos was also confused, but then he realized what it sounded like. “Oh, Dad, um… apparently ‘cosmilk’ is insulting in some circles in space,” Carlos explained. He then looked at Yondu. “My dad said cow’s milk. A cow is an animal on Earth – we use them for meat and for milk and cheese and all that good stuff. He just asked if you wanted milk – it has huge amounts of different vitamins, most notably calcium, protein, iodine, potassium, and a bunch of others. But it also contains lactose, which some people on Earth are sensitive or straight up allergic to.”
Yondu looks over to him and grins understanding. “It’s hot when you talk like a scientist.”
Carlos blinked at him and flushed slightly. “O-oh? I-I was just trying to be informative for you, in case it had stuff you can’t eat…”
“Okay, but are we going to ignore that Dad just said a space-slurr?” Mikey asked with a cheeky grin.
Mr Ramon started to blush and he laughed sheepishly. “You know very well that wasn’t my intention, Michael!”
“Let’s just say you called me a dickless cumbucket cunt. But yeah…. anyway I’d love some juice.” Offers his cup as he makes a few more tacos 🌮. “This is good. I’ve…. never had a home cooked meal….”
Mr Ramon instantly began to lose color in his face. “Oh, um…” He slowly picked up the pitcher and put a bit of juice in Yondu’s cup. “Give that a taste and… and see if you like it. I’m glad you appreciate the food, though I wish I had some more conchas left for dessert. Mikey ate the last one yesterday.”
Yondu snorts into his drink and laughs at the word. “Ohh you Terrans and your word choices… all I’ll say is your brother gets around.” Waggles his eye brows.
Carlos smacked Yondu’s shoulder. “I do not! I never even considered that before meeting you!” he exclaimed with a slight smile.
“Yeah, I was going to say… Carlos doesn’t ‘get around’ like that,” Mikey said.
“Mr Yondu, did… did the word not translate? Conchas, I mean?”
Yondu can’t help the snicker. “I meant.. Mikey are the last one…. hehehe… so he’s been around…. hehehehe.. trust me sir.. you don’t want me to translate.” Grins and looks to carlos. “Until me Huh.”
Carlos huffed softly and smacked him again. “They’re sweet buns,” he started to explain instead. “With crusted sugar on top. Not really sharp in flavor like your Beasties… but Dad makes them really yummy.”
Mikey just looked intrigued, and he wondered what conchas meant in space.
The Perfect Scientist 