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Every time you finished helping Joseph bake for some kind of event, you told yourself it would be the last time. There were far too many variables for you to take into account; children around you, your mediocre baking skills, Joseph's stupidly clear blue eyes --
The same eyes that had convinced you to go against your promise to yourself for what seems like the millionth time. Curse those eyes. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes.
It was so much easier talking to Joseph over DadBook in situations like these. While he could be awfully persuasive, he couldn't very well use his (dumb, ridiculous, stunning) puppy-dog eyes on you over a text chat. Though, you reason, you wouldn't put it past him to send a video of him asking you to help out.
Either way, you now stand in Joseph's kitchen, cursing yourself and cursing him for convincing you to bake with him again. Today, you were making various types of cookies -- something about some kind of party that's going on, you think you remember. Joseph had so many things going on recently that you were ashamed to say you hadn't really been keeping up.
"Could you pass me the flour, please?" Joseph asks, saying a quick thank you once you complied. He measures and levels it before dumping it into a sieve and shaking it into an empty bowl. Baking is wild.
After almost adding salt instead of sugar, you were put on cookie-scooping duty. Joseph had shown you how to take an ice-cream scoop to make perfectly portioned cookies. You're not sure why he had to show you how to use an ice cream scoop, but words wouldn't leave your mouth when his hand enveloped yours.
Without prompting, you handed Joseph a clean whisk after he'd added all of the dry ingredients to one bowl. He beamed at you and you swear you were almost blinded at the whiteness of his teeth.
"See?" Joseph said, chuckling wryly. "You are learning!"
"Sure," you say, rolling your eyes at him. "I mean, watching you bake twice a week has to have at least some effect, right?"
You expect Joseph to laugh, but instead, his smile turns nervous as he mutters a reply and turns back to his bowls. Is he… blushing?
You don't have time to assess the situation further because the timer on the microwave goes off and begins assaulting your ears.
"All right, all right," you say to the appliance, trying several times to find the 'off' switch. Once you succeed, you nod and turn to take the cookies out of the oven.
You arm yourself with Joseph's Darth Vader oven mitts (which you strongly suspect had something to do with Chris) and move to pull out the tray.
However, you make a wrong move and manage to bump the tray against the inside of your forearm, instantly leaving a nasty red mark.
"OH SHHHHH……Sugar cookies!" You shout, remembering just in time that there were, in fact, children in your vicinity. Joseph looks shocked and quickly stops mixing ingredients to see what's wrong.
"Hold on, it'll be okay," Joseph says in his Dad Voice™. He helps you place the tray out of harm's way and closes the oven door before leading you to the sink. You're grateful for his initiative because the only thing going on in your brain at the moment is something along the lines of fuckfuckfUCKFUCKFU CK OW OW OW OW
While you run your arm under the coldest water available, Joseph swiftly walks to another part of the kitchen. You hear him cut something, and before you can ask what he's doing, he's back by your side with a large Aloe leaf.
"Come on, sit down," he tells you calmly. As soon as you remove your arm from the stream of water, it burns again, but you try to suck it up until Joseph can help. You sit on one of the stools next to the island in the kitchen and offer your arm.
Joseph cuts the leaf open lengthwise and immediately presses it against your skin, making sure the entire burn is covered. You sigh audibly, grateful for the cooling gel. Joseph seems more upset than you are. He runs his free hand through his hair.
"Goodness, I didn't mean for you to get hurt! I wouldn't have made up--" Joseph actually slaps a hand over his mouth at his own words, but the damage had been done. His eyes were wide, his free hand still pressing the cool aloe into your arm.
Your eyebrows shot up. "Made up?" You pondered this for a few moments, realizing that it hadn't just been your poor memory that had made you forget Joseph's reasoning. He'd almost seemed... vague in his invitation. In fact, you’re now noticing that it’s actually rather strange that there seemed to be an event every two weeks that necessitated some form of baked good. You wonder why you didn’t notice it before.
"Joseph, did you make up a party to get me to bake with you?" This comes out as more of a statement than a question, but Joseph still nods hesitantly. His face is red now, and he’s not able to look at you directly.
Huh. You're more surprised than anything. And also trying to stop your heart from beating so quickly, because from where his hand is placed, Joseph can probably feel your pulse. Which is more than a little embarrassing.
"I want to be angry," you admit after a few moments of silence. "But honestly, I'm… sort of flattered? I mean, what happened to lying being a sin?" You grin at him and you can see the tension drain from Joseph's shoulders.
He looks at you sheepishly, his hair mussed, and you’re trying so hard to think of anything besides smoothing it down for him. “I wish I could say I had good intentions,” Joseph murmurs, not quite meeting your eyes. “I have to admit that I was being… selfish.”
Any and all traces of anger are gone, now. You feel bad that Joseph looks so… guilty. It wasn’t as though you didn’t have selfish reasons for helping out, too.
“Aw, Joseph,” you say, and he actually looks at you now, the full force of his sad eyes actually hitting you. “I was just kidding. I wouldn’t have helped if I didn’t want to.” This isn’t entirely true, but you have to admit that you’ve had fun every time you’d come to Joseph’s home.
You ponder a moment before continuing. “But if you wanted to hang out, you really didn’t have to keep making stuff up. I love spending time with you.” Whoops. So maybe that had come out a bit more sappy than you’d intended. It seemed to do the trick, though, because Joseph’s blinding smile returned and he gave you a hug. An awkward hug, because of the burn-and-aloe situation between the two of you, but still a hug. You could smell his stupidly wonderful smelling hair and tried not to linger.
“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” Joseph says, pulling away. He seems embarrassed again. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep this up much longer.”
You laugh, and Joseph’s smile grows wider. “I’m not sure how I didn’t notice,” you admit, looking to the not-quite-finished cookies now sitting on the stove-top. “I guess… I guess I wanted an excuse to hang out with you, too.”
You expect for Joseph to laugh, or even for him to hug you again, but instead, he blushes and smiles shyly before looking down. You sit in companionable silence for a few more moments before Joseph pulls the aloe away from your burn.
“Does it feel any better?” He asks you, discarding the used plant in a compost bin. To your surprise, it does. You nod and Joseph smiles before turning to one of his cabinets.
“That’s good. I’m going to put some of this on it,” he holds out a tube to you, “and then bandage it up and you should be right as rain in no time!”
You give Joseph two thumbs up. “Thanks for taking care of me. I guess I’m not getting any better at baking, huh?”
Joseph laughs and sits back down next to you after gathering his supplies. Unsurprisingly, he had a kitchen with a well-stocked emergency kit. You’d expect nothing less from a man with four kids.
“Not with that attitude, you’re not.” He winks at you. “Maybe we should have more baking lessons. Once a week.”
You groan dramatically. “I never want to see another cookie sheet for as long as I live.”
Joseph chuckles and wipes down your arm with a cold cloth. He hesitates before putting the burn cream stuff on it, though. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when he lowers his lips to your arm and delicately kisses the pink mark. You can hardly feel it, but it’s definitely enough to make your breath hitch in your throat. You’re absolutely certain that you’re blushing like a teenager right now.
Joseph lifts his head, his own cheeks pink. “There,” he says after clearing his throat. “Now it’ll heal even faster.” He smiles and reaches for the tube, continuing his work as though nothing had happened and that this was a totally normal occurrence.
Your heart was still hammering in your chest, and you felt like a kid, but holy shit he kissed my boo-boo what a nerd.
“You’re a dork,” you tell him despite your nerves. At this, Joseph laughs heartily, somehow managing to keep his hands steady.
“I’m not the one who burned myself on a cookie sheet,” he counters, finally finishing with your bandage. It has Hello Kitty on it.
“Touché,” you say, finally getting up from your spot. “I should probably actually help you finish baking now, huh?” The two of you spend the rest of the day actually baking, and trying to figure out what the hell you’re going to do with all of these Goddamn cookies.