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"I don't think frosting is really going to help cover the taste of this thing."
Armin and Marco could only stare at the disaster area that had the Kirstein's kitchen had turned into. What was meant to have been a beautiful angel food birthday cake was now instead a charred, black mess. It'd gotten so bad, both of them were actually on the verge of tears. The cookies they'd made alongside hadn't fared much better, either.
Both young men were regretting the idea of using the kitchen without Jean's mother supervising (she'd gone out to take Jean to the movies for his birthday). They also regretted not buying more than one box of cake mix. Neither of them had any means of quick transportation, and the store was clear on the other side of town.
Even if they did have a car or something similar, a one-eyed paraplegic and a young man who never got his license wouldn't exactly be able to get around with it, anyway.
"Ugh..." Armin tried to think of something to say, as he opened the window to let the smoke out. "Is Jean willing to at least try a little piece if it looks like charcoal?"
Marco shook his head. "You'd think a man who's capable of sucking himself off would be willing to do that, but no." Armin saw no need to try and refute Jean doing such an extreme act upon himself. He'd seen him do it with his very own eyes; the man was surprisingly flexible. It was interesting to watch, if nothing else.
"Okay..." Now Armin scratched his head. "Well, we need to at least clean this up; if Jean's mother sees this, she might get really upset."
"I'm way ahead of you, Armin," Marco told him, before wheeling himself over to where Miss Kirstein kept all her cleaning supplies. "She's always been crazy prepared, especially when I first started living here with her." He then gave a brief chuckle. "So many accidental spills she had to clean up after. Orange juice, turkey gravy, a gallon of marinara sauce, me trying to get pants on without any help from her..."
He went on as he grabbed some scrubbing materials and handed them to Armin. "It's a little embarrassing for a grown man to have his former mother-in-law dress him, I can tell you that-"
Then Marco stopped when he and Armin heard the sound of a car door slamming shut out in the driveway. Quickly, Armin dropped to his knees as Marco went to greet the Kirsteins (and perhaps distract them from the sooty mess he was about to try and get rid of).
...
"Hey, you two!" Marco called out to Jean and his mother while he wheeled himself outside. "Didn't expect you to be back so soon. How was it?" Jean stuck his tongue out in disgust and did a thumbs down gesture. Miss Kirstein gestured with her head towards him when he did that. They didn't need to elaborate on what that meant.
"That bad, huh?" The both of them nodded. Jean was beginning to move on to the kitchen when Marco stopped him. "Um...Maybe you can tell me how bad it was out here. Armin's a little busy with something important."
Now both Kirsteins were becoming suspicious of what his motives could be. To this, Jean's mother cocked an eyebrow, and made to go around Marco to get inside.
"Then I would presume he needs help with it-"
"No!" Marco quickly grabbed her by the arm. "I mean, I think he's got it under control. Best not to bother him." Miss Kirstein tried to wriggle free, but Marco held tight. "A watched pot never boils, you know?" The nervous chuckling afterwards was what confirmed that there were potential shenanigans going on.
Getting annoyed with him now, Jean and his mother pried Marco off of her and went inside. Marco prepared himself for the worst. He still jumped upon hearing Miss Kirstein shrieking in horror.
"Welcome home," Armin's small voice warbled out. "Um...Surprise?"
...
Both Armin and Marco were sitting in the living room, hearing the clear agitation in Miss Kirstein's voice coming from the kitchen.
"If you boys wanted to bake something, you should've asked me! You know I don't like it when any of you use my kitchen without permission!"
"We know," the two of them said to her, sounding a lot like a pair of scolded children.
Jean's mother went on. "What if the house caught fire?! The two of you could have been killed!"
"We know," they said again.
The whole time, Jean could only sit politely and listen intently to all of this. He also noticed their facial expressions were none too pretty. It was worrisome enough to try and speak up on their behalf.
"Mom."
Miss Kirstein didn't seem to have heard him, making him grit his teeth in irritation. "Do you realize how expensive all the kitchen equipment was?! That's another reason why I don't want you to use any of this without permission-"
"Mom!" A more forceful exclamation, joined by hands clenching the armrests. "You're kind of making it sound like the kitchen stuff is more important than their lives.
"I mean, look." He gestured with his upright palm. Armin and Marco both were trembling, Armin covering his mouth with his hand. Marco, meanwhile, was sobbing and letting tears drip out of both eye sockets. To say they were very upset would be an understatement.
It was now that his mother realized just how badly she'd hurt their feelings. Her anger softened into concern for the two.
"Oh..." She tried to defuse the situation she'd inadvertently worsened. "W-Well, the damage isn't that bad. I can always clean and replace anything that was affected. And I can even help you boys make another cake!"
Her efforts didn't appear to be working.
...
That night, the three were all sitting on Jean and Armin's bed, still mulling over what had happened. Marco and Armin still looked pretty shook up about it. Jean, of course, tried to comfort them. He didn't really care that his birthday today hadn't been the greatest.
None of them could really say anything. All Jean could really do now was wrap his arms around the two of them and hug them both.
"We're sorry Jean," Armin rasped out.
"Maybe...next year will be better?" Marco added on. Jean didn't respond, he just held them closer. He then let the both of them bury their faces into his shoulders and let them bawl. Hopefully next year, it would indeed be better. But for now, he was just going to keep hugging them until they let it all out.
Then he got an idea. "Maybe tomorrow we can go get some pizza." There was a pause, before the other two nodded slowly. Then they just went back to crying. Hopefully tomorrow they'd feel better over a few slices of supreme pizza.