Work Text:
Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, casting a soft glow across the marbled worktops. Beyond the large, clear panes, clouds drifted lazily, the view so serene it felt like I was floating on cloud nine.
Scattered across the counters were all the ingredients for a batch of homemade cupcakes—a quiet reminder of my childhood on Earth. A happier time, spent with my parents before life revealed it had other plans.
Today was a beautiful November morning. Not just any morning. It was Malbonte’s birthday.
So I decided today was the day to bring out my apron and bake again. I wanted to surprise my husband with birthday themed cupcakes… just without too many candles.
I was completely lost in the moment, a childlike joy spreading across my face. When I used to bake with my parents, it was always messy, always filled with laughter. I needed those memories to live on—to become immortal in their own way.
I mixed the batter, then carefully spooned it into the cases on the tray as evenly as I could. And placed them into the preheated oven. I then started to wash the bowls and utensils. I had just finished wiping down the worktop when I heard his voice.
“I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Malbonte’s voice came from the doorway. He leaned against the frame, hair still wet and tousled, droplets of water slowly tracing their way down his body to meet the waistband of his black jogging bottoms.
“You’re not,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “But I was hoping you’d still be asleep. I haven’t finished your surprise yet.”
“Surprise?” He arched a brow, looking at me like he had no idea what I meant.
But he did. He always did.
“Today is your birthday,” I said anyway. “And I wanted to do something special for you.”
He was quiet for a moment. The only sound was his breathing.
“I know we haven’t really celebrated our birthdays since we’ve been together,” I continued softly. “But with everything going on right now… I thought it might be nice. Just a little bit of respite for us.”
Malbonte looked at me, then smiled.
That smile meant more than anything he could have said. He spoke best through his expressions, his actions—and this was no different. I knew how much it meant to him.
“Thank you.”
Right as he spoke, the oven timer went off, signalling the cupcakes were ready. I took them out and placed them on the side to cool before icing.
A moment later, he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I turned within his hold, pressing myself against him, resting my head over his heart. I loved the steady rhythm of it—reassuring, grounding.
My eyes drifted closed as I let myself sink into the moment. Some things didn’t need words. Just the quiet certainty that we were here, together.
He kissed my forehead, then rested his chin lightly against the top of my head.
“I love you.”
His voice echoed softly in my mind, and my chest tightened in the best way. It was one of my favourite things—how he spoke to me like that. So close. So private. Just ours.
“I love you,” I whispered back.
His arms tightened around me, holding me closer. We stayed like that a little while longer, neither of us in any rush to move.
Eventually, I pulled away and began preparing the icing. Malbonte made a very obvious attempt to avoid helping—but I persuaded him anyway. We even found some sprinkles.
Just like when I was little… it got messy.
I couldn’t resist. I reached out and smeared buttercream along the side of his face.
“So that’s how it is?” He smirked.
Before I could do anything else, he caught my waist and lifted me onto the worktop. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer.
I leaned in slowly, teasing, and licked the icing from his face, taking my time. His hands tightened on my hips as I hovered just in front of him, our lips barely a breath apart.
“Happy birthday,” I whispered, eyes locked on his—dark and endless, always reminding me of black obelisk flowers.
He was just about to close the distance… when I pulled away.
Reaching for the leftover icing, I gathered some on my finger and slowly licked it off. His gaze followed every movement, something sharper flickering beneath his composure.
I lifted my hand again, about to catch the icing at the corner of my mouth—
—but he was faster.
He leaned in, his tongue brushing it away before I could.
The next second, his lips were on mine. His kiss was immediate, consuming—his tongue slipping past my lips with quiet impatience. He devoured me, and every time, I let him.
He set the pace. I followed.
I would follow him anywhere. Even if it led to the end of the world.
As long as we were together.
His name was etched into my soul. In every breath. On my lips.
Mal-bon-tee.