Work Text:
TITLE: Baking <33
FEATURING THE CHARACTERS: eddie, frank
WRITERS: aer, nic, aer
RATED ALL AGES
Baking doesn't really come easy to Eddie.
Frank does it with grace that rivaled Poppy, but he still insists on Eddie helping him with even the simplest tasks. "The sugar, Mr Dear."
At the very least he can read the labels, but he can't stop his hands from shaking when he passes it over. He smiles when Frank does, but there's a tightness in his chest that just sitting in the corner doesn't really relieve.
"You can put this next one in," Frank says. "It says two cups of sugar. Ah, it goes in the dry ingredients. I'll be mixing the wet ingredients over here."
"All right."
Eddie's hands, better suited for handling packages and letters, did manage to take a cup out—but not without translucent crystals clinging to the felt of his skin as he shakes it in. Half of it, he's sure, had spilled over the end of the bowl.
Frank peers over and gives a sympathetic smile. "You can just fill half the cup again and it'll be the same."
Eddie nods.
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As the two would work away in the kitchen, Frank managing to make dough as Eddie mostly grabbed tools that were out of their reach and helped grab ingredients from cabinets, he'd have to soften and shape the dough into cookie shapes for Frank as he needed to grab another cookbook for the next set of pastries they were gonna create.
Though as Eddie beat the bread he would accidentally slip into his habits and fold them into- What looked like envelopes, if they were drawn by a young Wally with crayons.
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Frank fortunately found it cute—thankfully enough, because Eddie might have died of embarrassment then and there if he didn't like it.
After what felt like a very satisfying next few hours, they'd baked envelope cookies and jam-filled croissants, and Frank had even managed to whip up a lemonade in the meantime.
They eventually sank into the couch with a sigh, plates filled with goodies on their laps. Frank held an envelope cookie in his hand, lifting it up to the light. "This came out really well."
"I hope it tastes nice too."
"Aw, I'm sure it will." As if to prove the point, Frank took a bite and sighed, almost melting into the couch. "That's really good."
Eddie took a tentative bite and brightened.
"See? You'd make a great cook, Mr Dear."
"You think so?" Eddie took a sip of the lemonade—bittersweet, just like Frank. "Think we should give the neighbors some of our baking?"
Frank stiffens, head slightly shaking. "I think I'd like to enjoy these with just you," he says. "A quiet meal with friends, yes? We can always make more for the others."
"I don't think it's fair to—"
Frank immediately grasps Eddie's hand before he can even get up. "Please, Eddie," Frank pleads, and something twists deep in Eddie's core at his name. "Just stay. Please. Let's enjoy this moment..." He seems about to say something more, but he trails off and stares into the distance. "Stay."
Eddie nods. "I'm not going anywhere, buddy."
"Good. That's good."
Frank straightens in a way that's far too stiff for a puppet, but Eddie pushes that back and gives his hand an affectionate squeeze; which Frank immediately returns with a tight smile.
"Thanks for teaching me how to bake," Eddie says. "I'd like to do this again sometime."
"Anytime you desire, Mr Dear."
Fanfic created with #FranticFanfic.