Chapter Text
Jason can feel the tip of his tongue sticking out as he tries to pipe the melted chocolate just right on the parchment paper. He’s done pretty good with most of this recipe but for some reason, his chocolate keeps hardening faster than it should and he has to melt it again in his double boiler. Next to him, Alfred hums his approval.
“Very good. It seems to be taking this time.”
“About fucking time,” Jason mutters, ignoring the old man’s gimlet eye of reproach. This is his house, not Wayne Manor, he can swear all he likes. Not that it stops him from swearing there. He just tries to rein it in somewhat. Sorta.
“Everything else in this recipe has come along swimmingly. You underestimate your baking skills.”
“More like I don’t want to overestimate them,” Jason returns and eyes the chocolate handle critically. It’s not bad and is the right size for a change. He just has to get these chocolate handles right for the cupcake cauldrons he made earlier. Those and the marshmallow cream were a piece of, well, cake compared to decorative chocolate he’s working with.
Alfred chuckles quietly. There’s always an understated quality to it, like he’s laughing at something else aside from the obvious. Jason swears that one day, he’s going to get a belly laugh from the old butler. Tim’s said that if it ever happens, the world will come to an end. Whatever, his boyfriend has an over inflated sense of the dramatic sometimes. Jason blames Dick for it, the circus ass that he still is.
“Your butterbeer preparations are already complete?” Alfred prods, glancing at the fridge. He’s been quietly amused over the whole themed birthday party for Tim since Jason approached him for his help with the baking.
“Yeah. I still think it’s too sweet though. All this crap is a child’s sugary dream and a parent’s worst cavity inducing nightmare.”
“I sincerely doubt Master Tim will complain, not if you’ve made it.”
“Thanks.” For all of Jason’s grumbles, he agrees with Alfred. Tim is a sucker for anything homemade, especially if it’s for him. The younger man isn’t quite a walking disaster in the kitchen but he does need a recipe and a set of instructions all laid out for him before he can proceed.
Jason remembers the first time Tim cooked for him. His boyfriend was so proud of how everything turned out that he didn’t have the heart to tell him he despises asparagus.
“You appear to have everything under control for the moment. Shall I start a batch of your barbecue sauce?” Alfred sounds all innocent but Jason knows better. He’s sneaky like that.
“Not a chance, old man. That’s my one secret recipe. I am on to you.”