Work Text:
Zane conjures the idea of cake baking mostly on a whim —something Cole struggles to believe, despite Zane insisting "No this isn't because we forgot Kai's birthday again"— as it's been two months, three days, and twelve hours since he last possessed any sort of cooking intent.
It wasn’t a purposeful avoidance. Their lives turned hectic after a dramatic sacrifice, an elemental tournament, and now coming off the heels of a ghoulish crisis. And with Cole having to contend with a whole new body essentially overnight–
The clattering of collapsing plasticware drags Zane back to the reality of the Bounty's kitchen. A wide-eyed Cole gives him a guilty look.
“...Zane, are you sure you want my help for this…? I’m not exactly famed for my culinary skill, and with this whole ghost thing, I–”
Cole waves his pale green arms, demonstrating their translucency and gesturing at the mess already made.
“You wanted to receive extra practice keeping yourself tangible outside of battle, yes? I thought this might be a fun exercise to try.”
“Fun?! Eating is next to impossible for me, let alone tasting…!”
“So that is the goal we’ll work towards.” Zane kneels to gather the scattered cutlery. “If you’re capable of making any part of your body solid, then you should be able to make your tongue solid as well–”
Cole’s face scrunches. “Whuh, sounds weird when you say it like–”
“—thus you should be capable of tasting just fine. You’ve managed before; we just need to hone the skill on command!”
Of course, Zane understands Cole’s concerns. Adapting to his titanium form wasn’t smooth either. But going from a robot to…more of a robot wasn’t as catastrophic as transforming into a ghost.
Yet, he is still Zane. And Cole remains Cole.
“Besides, are you not enticed by getting a dessert afterwards?”
Grumbling in defeat, Cole puts his hands up in surrender.
“Ugh, you know me too well. Can’t hurt to try. So let’s get cooking!”
“...We’re baking, Cole.”
Cole scoffs as he tries again to gather the needed supplies. “Psh, same difference!”
Shaking his head, Zane prepares the wet ingredients, tasking Cole with managing the dry. As they work, a golden glow pours in from the window, embracing the room with both warmth and nostalgia. Zane’s reminded of the countless hours once spent devising meals to appease his friends– though primarily Cole himself.
He recalls the way Cole lingered around watching Zane toil on new recipes, with Cole’s eager grin staying tucked in the corner of Zane’s vision. They’d pass time with shared stories and jokes, but nothing stood in the way of Cole asking how long he’d need to wait for a taste. In turn, Zane would await approval after Cole’s first bite. That was always worth it.
Why did he seek Cole’s opinion so highly? Probably because his opinion of Cole is so high.
Even now, Cole proves himself a worthy ally behind the counter, just as he would in the midst of battle. He cautiously measures out the dry ingredients, mindful to evade mistakes like the plague. And Zane’s mesmerized just watching Cole’s focused work.
Cole puts so much dedication, determination, and care into everything he does, even with his personal setbacks–
How could he believe Zane wouldn’t want him as a partner?
…a cooking partner, that is.
Right?
“Hey, Frosty? You okay?”
Zane jolts back to attention– though his internal processor whirls as his facial temperature rises. And he can’t even blame the oven for the heat.
“I-I am fine. My apologies; I was…lost in thought.”
Cole thinks nothing of it, sliding his share of the prep to Zane for the final combination. Then together, the duo pours the complete batter into a pan. Their hands overlap to cradle the bowl, evenly distributing their future cake into its ultimate destination.
Zane can’t feel Cole pressed beside him –and it's hard to tell if Cole's even contributing to the pouring at all– but even the suggestion of close proximity has Zane’s hands trembling. It’s a miracle all the batter makes it to the pan.
Once Zane slips the cake into the oven, all that’s left now is to wait.
They collapse onto the nearby bench with exaggerated exhaustion. They snicker at their own silliness, with Cole settling first. He gets lost in the light coming from the oven’s window, and a frown emerges on his face.
“Do you really think I’ll be able to taste it?”
“Your chances outweigh mine. When rebuilding my body, I couldn’t quite reconfigure how my father calibrated my taste buds… so my current sense of taste pales in comparison. It’s part of why I was hesitant to resume my cooking hobby…”
Zane chuckles with a tiny smile.
“But for you, I was willing to try again.”
Cole’s eyes go wide before softening again. Hesitation courses through him, but it doesn’t prevent him from asking his next question.
“Does it, y’know…ever get easier…?”
“Hmm? What does?” Zane raises an eyebrow. “Waiting for a cake to bake…?”
“No, I–”
Cole’s hands clench against his lap as he chases his train of thought. His cheeks puff out, embarrassed for even bringing it up.
“I meant…getting used to a form…that wasn’t originally your own?”
“...Oh.”
Cole stares at Zane with such vulnerability that Zane feels exposed himself. He glances at one of his palms, frowning at the bolts holding his shiny metal plates together.
“Well, acclimating to something like that is not a… straightforward experience. It does offer some fresh insight into oneself, I suppose.” Zane’s eyes snap up, filled with mirth. “At least we can take solace in knowing we’re not alone in such a…unique circumstance. We just need to take it a day at a time.”
“But you were a robot before. And now you’re just a cooler robot! Pun partially intended.”
Zane stifles a laugh. Cole’s lips twitch with amusement, though it slips away when he sighs.
“But I’ve never been a ghost before. I was better before. You saw earlier; I let all that stuff fall and I couldn’t—!”
“Come now, everyone drops things. Besides, I saw you preparing the ingredients just fine, which would be the important thing–”
“We don’t know that! It depends on how the cake turns out! Which could be bad! Because of me!”
Cole spirals further, his ghostly aura flickering like a wavering candle.
“And if I can't even do this, then…what’ll happen when you need me for something even more important and I disappoint you—?”
Zane’s hand reaches to grasp Cole’s shoulder– a shoulder that’s perfectly solid, against the odds. His light grip tenses; a soft, personal reassurance that yes, Cole is still real.
Now if only Zane could convince Cole of that fact.
“You… You’re…like the cake we’re baking.”
Cole blinks, thrown from his turmoil and into confusion. “H-Huh?!”
But Zane doesn’t take it back, latching onto the thought to see where it leads. The words pour from him faster than he can process– but that’s how he knows they come not from his mind, but his heart.
“...no matter how it turns out, it will still be made of all the same ingredients that define it as a cake. It could be burnt, or undercooked, or whatever else…but it is still cake.”
Zane scoots closer, fully draping his arm over Cole’s shoulders. He doesn’t pass through Cole at all.
“Physically, we both changed. But we are still made up of the same ingredients that make us who we are, aren’t we? Not that I want you to be in such a state, but… not everything to come from it has to be a bad thing. You being a ghost…does not mean you cease to be you. And I like you very much.”
Taking a steadying breath, Zane moves to cradle both of Cole’s hands– further proof of his point.
“You are the same radiant person, just…with a different flavor, so to speak. But you’re still brave, strong, and gorgeous, and kind— and I have admired you for a long time. Everything you’ve accomplished; every challenge you’ve overcome…it inspires me endlessly. And you being a ghost…has only highlighted how strongly I feel about that.”
Zane clears his throat, catching himself rambling.
“That’s why I can say this now. …and I just needed you to know.”
Finally, Zane meets Cole’s eyes, not sure what kind of response he wants. But he’s said his piece.
Hopefully Cole understands.
“Did you—” Cole stammers, reeling from being bulldozed by such heartfelt words. “...Did you just confess to me with a cake metaphor?!”
…Well, Zane hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out like that. Oops.
“My apologies; I suppose it wasn’t the most, ah, tasteful approach. But–”
Cole laughs—full, joyous, and utterly charmed. Zane’s systems overheat as Cole closes the remaining distance between them, little as it was. His head comfortably finds purchase on Zane’s shoulder.
“That’s the most romantic thing I've ever been told!”
“...I think that’s an opinion you have alone,” Zane murmurs dryly, unsure of whether to be offended or embarrassed or both.
Through more boisterous laughter, Cole squeezes Zane’s hands in assurance.
“And here I was, thinking something similar about you. You beat me to it, dang it!”
Zane’s eyes light up. Did he say what Zane thinks he said?!
“You share...similar sentiments?!”
“I mean, not necessarily the whole cake thing, but…um…”
Cole shrugs as a delighted smile spreads across his luminescent cheeks.
“...it’s hard not to crush on somebody as resilient, considerate, and lovely as you Zane. And thank you…for telling me the same.”
Zane melts, overwhelmed with how enamored he is with the ghost before him.
Silence settles, but it’s a comforting one. The magnetism of the moment draws their foreheads together. Their eyes meet; a smile exchanges between them—
Beep! Beep! BEEP!
The oven’s timer goes off– the duo shoot backwards, fumbling to catch themselves. The peace shatters; their metaphorical hearts pound in their chests. Somewhere in the haze of his happy thoughts, Zane realizes he should probably take care of that.
Stumbling from the euphoric rush, Zane successfully removes their creation from the oven. He barely reaches the counter before Cole’s hovering over his shoulder. Even the barest whiff of the velvety, chocolatey aroma is enough to excite him.
“It came out amazing! Guess you could say we really crushed it, heh!”
Groaning, Zane cuts a slice of the cake, plopping it onto a plate. He cools it to the perfect temperature with his powers, then glazes it with a Cole-approved amount of frosting.
“However, you said the real deciding factor will be in the taste. So, here!”
Seconds later, Cole finds a bite of cake shoveled toward him.
“What the?! Y-You’re feeding me?!”
“I’m keeping the fork steady while you focus on staying tangible.” Zane nudges the fork closer. “...or did you forget why we were baking?”
“K-Kinda hard to focus after we just confessed to each other–!”
“Cole. You can do it. I believe in you.”
“............grah, okay.”
Zane smirks as Cole begrudgingly closes his eyes and pops his mouth open.
“Never thought you’d complain about eating cake.”
“Shush. I’m focusing.”
As Cole focuses, Zane really hopes the flavors of warm baked goodness will reach Cole and this wasn’t all for naught.
Something must be happening, for Cole falls eerily silent.
The quiet eats away at Zane. He can’t take it anymore. He has to ask.
“So. …What is your verdict?”
Cole makes a show of mulling it over. Zane’s heart sinks, fearing the worst—
Until Cole lunges toward Zane, capturing him in a hug. Zane instinctively catches him, relishing in the fact there’s something to hold.
“I think…” Cole whispers the words into Zane’s ear like a secret. “...I should've made you wear the Kiss the Cook apron.”
As Zane erupts into off-guard laughter, he feels Cole smiling against him. He feels Cole sink further into the embrace like coming home.
And Zane plans to hang onto Cole for as long as he can.