ftmphainon
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Summary
“Doctor,” Aventurine murmured, wrapping his arms around his waist. “So hardworking, it smells amazing.”
Ratio hummed, continuing to mix what looked like — as Aventurine peered over his shoulder, standing on his tiptoes — frosting.
“Here,” he dipped a spoon into the frosting, proffering it to Aventurine’s lips. “Try this.”
Aventurine tasted the frosting, wrinkling his nose a little at the amount of sugar inside.
“Too sweet,” he complained, moving to sit on the counter, wrapping his legs around Ratio’s waist, pulling him in closer. “Come here.”