Work Text:
Piece of Cake
“I still don’t get why you can’t just buy a fucking cake.”
Will rolled his eyes, bracing himself as Jay took the corner like he was auditioning for the new Fast & Furious film.
“Because it’s not exactly in the spirit of a bake sale, Jay. Clue’s in the name. You bake it, you sell it.”
“Only cat-hoarding women in their sixties spend their Sundays baking.”
“It’s for charity!”
“Doesn’t make it any less tragic.”
Will turned in his seat. “If you’re that opposed, then why did you offer to help me?”
“God, you’re dense for a nerd. Maybe it’s ’cos I wanna spend time with you? And if that means giving up my weekend to buy eggs and fuck about in your kitchen, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”
Sincerity peeked out through the obscenities. Will let his reproachful expression melt.
“Well… I appreciate it.”
Jay nodded. “As you should.”
As Will settled back into the passenger seat, they went over a speed bump at a velocity that suggested Jay hadn’t really noticed it. The car gave a protesting rattle. Will felt something land in his lap. He looked down and was greeted by yellow eyes and a bloody grin. That hideous zombie plush he’d won at Thorpe Park had been flung from its place on the dashboard. Will found himself unable to suppress a smile as he placed ‘Shaun’, as Jay had keenly named it, back in its spot. The fond look slowly transformed into a frown as he noticed the background rattle continuing.
“Have you not figured out what’s causing that yet?”
Jay shrugged. “I like the rattle. It’s soothing.”
“It sounds like skeletons fucking on a tin roof.”
“Exactly! Adds character.”
“It’ll add more than that if you keep ignoring speed bumps. You do realise that they’re there to imply that you should slow down?”
“Oh right, sorry, Miss Daisy!” Jay said derisively. “At least I can drive.”
“Hmm. Though less Lewis Hamilton, more Richard Hammond.”
“Ooh! What was that, Mr Doesn’t-Have-His-Licence-Yet?”
“I’ll get there. It can’t be that difficult. Neil drives, for goodness’ sake.”
Jay raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. A few moments later, he abruptly turned down a side street and pulled onto a stretch of deserted wasteland. As Jay parked up and killed the engine, Will looked around in confusion.
“Um… what’s happening?”
Jay gestured at the steering wheel. “Go on then.”
Not following, Will let his gaze drop to Jay’s lap. His eyes widened.
“Are you insane? It’s broad daylight! What if someone-?”
“Not that! Though I’ll gladly bring you back when it’s dark if that’s what you’re into, you filthy little sex fiend.”
Will scoffed. “Pot calling the kettle there!”
Jay was already out of the car, striding around to the passenger side and yanking the door open.
“Seriously, what are we doing?” Will asked.
“Switching seats.”
“Jay, I can’t drive.”
“Yeah, but it’s easy, right?” Jay stepped back, gesturing grandly at the driver’s seat. “Show me, if it’s so fucking easy.”
“Don’t be absurd! I’ve never even had a lesson!”
“Well, you’re about to get one. Time to learn from the master. Now get your sexy arse behind that wheel!”
Reluctantly, Will climbed out, dodging Jay’s attempt to swat at his backside as he rounded the bonnet. He slid into the driver’s seat and immediately buckled in, eyeing the controls in front of him warily.
Jay slouched into the passenger seat beside him. “Right. Turn the key.”
“Not until you put your seatbelt on.”
“…you’re joking.”
“It’s illegal.”
“Don’t be soft!”
“And unsafe! I’m not going to be responsible for putting you through the windscreen!”
“You’re gonna be crawlin’ ‘round this place in first gear, not doing ninety up the fucking M4!”
“Just humour me, please?”
Jay rolled his eyes before theatrically clicking his seatbelt into place.
“Happy, Officer Fusspot?”
Will nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now turn the key.”
“Shouldn’t I check my mirrors first?”
“Check ‘em for what? There’s no one else here!”
“Perhaps, but there’s nothing wrong with doing things properly.”
Jay massaged his temples and sighed. “Babe, please… just turn the fucking key.”
Finally, Will obliged. The engine rumbled to life, louder than expected. Will didn’t dare touch anything, looking over to Jay for further instruction.
“You know the pedals, yeah?” Jay asked.
“I know of the pedals, yes.”
“Well, there’s three of ’em. Left to right: clutch, brake, accelerator. Don’t mix ’em up.”
“Okay.”
“Right. Foot on pedal. Clutch to the floor.”
Will obligingly pressed a pedal. The engine roared violently. He yelped in fright, causing Jay to burst out laughing.
“Yeah, that’s the accelerator, genius! Clutch on the left, remember?”
“You said right!” Will protested.
Jay frowned. “I said ‘left to right: clutch, brake, accelerator’!”
“You said ‘right foot on pedal’!”
“No, I said ‘right’, new sentence, ‘foot on pedal’! Why would I tell you to put your right foot on a pedal on the fucking left?”
“… ah.”
“Not so easy, figuring out left from right, is it?”
Will flushed at Jay’s teasing tone. “Shut up! It was an easy mistake!”
“Try again. Left foot, left pedal!”
“I know!”
This time, when Will pressed down, the engine didn’t protest. He let out the cautious breath he’d been holding as Jay shifted the gearstick into first on his behalf.
“Now lift your foot,” Jay instructed. “Just ‘til the car moves a bit. Take it slow.”
Will lifted, slowly as he could. As he hit the bite point, the car shifted slightly. Will panicked at the movement, snatching his foot away. The car abruptly lurched, the engine dying. Jay jolted dramatically in his seat, grasping for the grab handle.
“Jesus Christ! You were right about the seatbelt! Talk about ‘death on wheels’!”
“Oh, now you’re just being a dick!” Will sulked.
“Relax, I’m only pulling your leg! Try again.”
With a huff, Will grudgingly restarted the engine, eyes narrowed in concentration. It took several attempts, some smoother than others, but eventually he started to get the hang of finding the bite point. When he was confident that Will wouldn’t shit himself, Jay slowly released the handbrake and the car began to creep forward.
“Steady,” he murmured.
“Shit…” Will hissed, white-knuckling the wheel.
Yet with Jay’s unruffled guidance, he managed a slow shaky loop around the abandoned site before steering them back to roughly where they’d started. He braked harshly without dipping the clutch, and the car shuddered indignantly before stalling again.
Silence followed.
“Alright,” Jay said at last. “Not terrible. But was it easy?”
Will sighed. “No. Point proven.”
“Thank you. Wanna go again?”
“Not sure my nerves could take it, to be honest.”
“Yeah, mine neither.” Jay joked. “Right, swap back.”
They climbed out of the car, gravel crunching underfoot as they met in front of the bonnet. Without any hesitation, Will caught Jay by the shoulders and pulled him into a deep kiss. Jay clearly didn’t expect it, his hands hovering aimlessly near Will before falling to rest on his hips. The kiss lingered on longer than planned, neither wanting to stop once they’d started, caught up in some kind of weird post-lesson adrenaline.
Jay grinned when they finally broke apart. “What was that for?”
“Do I need a reason?” Will adjusted his glasses, trying to act coy. “You’re a pretty good teacher, you know.”
Jay’s grin turned sly. “And that does it for you, does it? Wanna be my teacher’s pet?”
“Mm, that depends,” Will murmured huskily. “Would you tell me I’m a good boy?”
Jay bit his lip, desperately pretending that Will’s words hadn’t gone straight to his crotch.
“Figures you’d have a praise kink. What d’ya do when Gilbert gives you a gold star, suck him off?”
Will leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Why do you think he calls me into his office so often?”
Jay recoiled, horrified. “Fucking hell, Will!”
Will burst out laughing as Jay retreated back around to the driver’s side.
“I’m obviously kidding!”
“That’s grim, that is!”
“Oh, so you can make filthy wisecracks, but I can’t?”
“Correct!” Jay replied, half inside the car. “I’m the dirty-minded slob, and you’re the uptight prude who doesn’t give me mental images of you crouched under Gilbert’s desk! Now get in before I leave you here, you fucking creep!”
Still chuckling, Will climbed back into the passenger seat. By the time he’d buckled his seatbelt, Jay was laughing despite himself too. Moments later, they were once again on their way toward the supermarket, the faint rattle still accompanying them.
The supermarket car park was mercifully quiet, which Will was glad about. He hated shopping in general, especially in crowded places. As Jay swung into a space close to the entrance, Will quickly got himself into the headspace to execute a structured and precise gathering of the necessities. In and out, five minutes tops.
Before he could voice this plan of action, Jay was already climbing out of the car.
“You’re coming in?” Will blurted out.
Jay shrugged. “Well, yeah. I know what you’re like in shops.”
“And what am I like, exactly?”
“A total stress-head. You need supervision.”
With a wink, Jay hopped out of the car and kicked the door shut behind him. Will hesitated a moment. Grocery shopping was a simple enough errand, but doing it with Jay felt domestic. Very domestic. The sort of errand that would look perfectly innocent to the outside world, yet deeply incriminating to anyone who knew them personally. This clearly hadn’t occurred to Jay, judging how he stood in front of the car gesturing for Will to get moving. But then, Jay never did overthink things the way Will did.
Or perhaps he simply didn’t care how they looked.
Will wasn’t sure he did either.
And so, he quickly found himself at Jay’s side, approaching the shop’s entrance. Once inside, Jay grabbed a basket while Will produced a folded slip of paper from his coat pocket. Jay clocked it with an amused smirk.
“You actually made a list?”
“Of course.”
“We’re getting eggs and flour, not doing the weekly shop.”
“I like lists,” Will replied primly. “They help me stay focused.”
“‘Course. Can’t have ‘Operation: Sponge Cake’ going tits up, can we, Captain Briefcase?”
Eyeing his list intently, Will set off with purpose. Jay, on the other hand, meandered. They hadn’t made it past the frozen food section before he stopped dead in front of a glass-fronted freezer.
“Fucking hell,” he breathed. “They still make these?”
Will glanced back. “Make what?”
“Turkey Dinosaurs. Used to have these all the time when I was a kid. Wonder why Mum stopped buying ’em.”
“Because she assumed you’d outgrown dinosaur-shaped poultry pulp?”
Jay ignored that. “These with oven chips, spaghetti hoops and a shitload of Tommy K? Elite. Made teatime worth showing up for.”
“Sounds very nutritionally robust. Can we stay on task, please?”
Will moved on. Jay followed. Sort of. He paused by the crisps, giving a running commentary of which flavour of Monster Munch was superior. He practically became misty-eyed on seeing the kids’ cereal, as if reuniting with long-lost relatives. After threatening a third detour, Will caught him lightly by the elbow and steered him away from the confectionary aisle. Jay sensed his irritation.
“What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing,” Will said dryly. “I just didn’t realise this was your first time ever in a supermarket.”
“Alright, chill out,” Jay mumbled. “It’s just been a while. Mum hasn’t dragged me ‘round the shops since I was 12. Bit of a walk down Memory Lane, innit?”
Hearing Jay’s dejected tone, Will looked at him properly and immediately felt like an arsehole. Jay had gone from giant excited toddler to whimpering kicked puppy in seconds.
“Anyway,” Jay continued, trying to sound brighter. “Whereabouts are these eggs? Hope you’re not shelling out for free range, ‘cos that’s a fucking con. Get it? ‘Shelling’ out?”
Will smiled and looked down at the list in his hand. Then folded it and slipped it back into his pocket.
“You know what? The eggs can wait. It’s not like we’re in a hurry.”
He nodded towards the confectionary aisle, feeling his heart flutter pleasantly as Jay grinned at him. This time, when Jay started reminiscing over the sweets, Will listened intently. He quickly found himself enjoying the passion and whimsy in Jay’s voice, and decided to join in. The pair were soon happily comparing and debating over their childhood favourites. They decided to pick some out to buy, especially sweets the other had never tried before.
Jay picked up a Double Dip. “You ever had these?”
Will glanced over. “I actually prefer Sherbet Fountains. The liquorice tones down the sweetness of the sherbet.”
“Yeah, but then you have to actually eat liquorice.”
“What’s wrong with liquorice?”
“It’s mingin’. Tastes like something you’d use to disinfect the bog.”
“Better than that weird edible tongue depressor thing they have in Double Dips.”
“Oi, that’s the best bit!” Jay protested. “Pure sugar injection. Had me bouncing off the walls when I was little.”
“Not sure I want you bouncing off the walls in my house.”
Jay snorted. “Not sure I wanted you abusing the accelerator in my car, but we survived that.”
Will rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. Jay took that as the go-ahead to add one of each of the controversial sweets to the basket.
They continued on their way, strolling leisurely through the quiet store until finally reaching the baking aisle. Jay immediately plucked a box of cake mix from the shelf and nudged Will with it.
“Why don’t we just use one of these?”
Will wrinkled his nose. “That’s cheating.”
“Didn’t realise bake sales had such strict rules.”
“They don’t. It’s the principle.”
“No one’s gonna know.”
“I’ll know.”
“As if other people aren’t doing the same! Nothing wrong with a shortcut.”
Will hesitated.
“…No. We’re doing it properly or not at all.”
Jay studied him for a moment, then smirked.
“Alright, Gordon Ramsay. From scratch it is.”
He tossed the box back onto the shelf while Will gathered flour, vanilla extract, icing sugar, and a few other bits from his list. As he dropped the items into the basket, something already in there caught his eye. A small plastic tub of rainbow sprinkles. He picked it out and handed it back to Jay.
“We don’t need these.”
“We’re making a cake.”
“Yes. A Victoria sponge.”
“Exactly. It’s a boring fucking cake. It needs some pride.”
“Pride?”
Jay shook the tub, the tiny colourful strands rattling inside. “Gay pride.”
Will pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to argue.
“I’ll think about it.”
Happy with that, Jay dropped the sprinkles into the basket with unnecessary flourish. As they moved toward the eggs, he nudged Will playfully.
“Get you, being all wild and reckless.”
“Hardly.”
“You are. Driving without a licence, buying things that aren’t on your precious list. You’ll be shoplifting next.”
Will noticed a staff member glance around from stacking baked beans.
“He’s joking!” Will said quickly.
Jay’s laughter followed them down the aisle as Will gave him a half-hearted shove.
Finally, they were ready to checkout. On their way to the tills, they turned a corner and nearly collided with an oncoming trolley.
“Oh, hello, you two.”
The pair froze at the familiar voice. Behind the half-filled trolley of groceries stood Simon’s parents. Jay gave a small polite smile, while Will instinctively slipped into the well-practiced graciousness he reserved for parents.
“Afternoon, Mrs Cooper. Mr Cooper.”
“Alright, lads?” Mr Cooper said, glancing at their basket. “On a snack run?”
“Um, no,” Will replied. “Baking stuff. For the school charity event.”
“Of course,” Mrs Cooper said warmly. “Simon mentioned that.”
“Except his grand contribution is a box of fairy cakes from Tesco,” Mr Cooper quipped with a roll of his eyes. “Nice to see someone doing it properly.”
“Do it properly or not at all, eh?” Jay chipped in.
Will shot him a look.
“Exactly,” Mr Cooper said, nodding towards Jay approvingly. “You doing it together then?”
The phrasing caught both Will and Jay off guard. Jay recovered first.
“Er, yeah. Team effort. In the spirit of charity an’ that.”
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Mrs Cooper said, smiling between them.
“Yeah, can’t go wrong with a bit of teamwork,” Mr Cooper added. “We’re tackling a lasagne this afternoon ourselves.”
“Sounds delicious,” Will said. “And time-consuming. We best not keep you. Lovely seeing you though.”
“You too,” Mrs Cooper said. “Have fun, boys.”
“Yeah, best of luck with that cake, lads.”
Mr Cooper steered the trolley by them, murmuring to his wife as they turned down the world foods aisle. After lingering a second longer, Will and Jay exchanged glances before approaching a free checkout.
“That was weird,” Jay murmured.
“Really?” Will said. “It felt pretty normal to me.”
Jay huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. That’s what I mean.”
As Jay started unloading their basket onto the conveyer belt, Will mulled his words over. It really hadn’t felt awkward, getting caught together like that. Obviously, they hadn’t been doing anything questionable, like holding hands. But it still felt oddly normal, to have a brief grown-up conversation with another couple while doing a grown-up chore.
However, one thing had struck Will as not being normal. Throughout the interaction, Will had been very aware of how close he and Jay were standing. Practically shoulder to shoulder, the entire time. And Jay hadn’t made any move to step away, to reinforce their platonic façade. Normally, he would have done. Will wasn’t sure Jay had even noticed this subtle shift in behaviour. He decided not to comment on it, to just enjoy it for the silent progress that it was instead.
When the items were scanned and bagged, Will pulled out his wallet. By the time he had his debit card ready, the cashier was already handing the receipt to Jay. Jay thanked the cashier, then gestured for Will to follow him. Thrown for a moment, Will hesitated, then grabbed the carrier bag and dashed to fall in step with Jay.
“Did you just pay?”
“Yep.”
“You didn’t need to do that. This whole cake thing was my idea.”
Jay shrugged. “Yeah, and you’re the one who’s gonna be doing all the graft for it. Had to do my bit somehow.”
“But… you’ve paid for all the sweets as well.”
“Getting the sweets was my idea.”
Will reached for his wallet. “At least let me give you-”
“Nope.”
“Jay, I-”
“Nope!”
Will sighed in resignation, the fight leaving him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Just let me lick the bowl.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
Jay smirked. “Maybe.”
Back in Will’s kitchen, he moved with quiet efficiency, gathering equipment. Jay lingered by the end of the counter, listlessly scrolling through his phone. As Will carefully measured out the flour, he heard sniggering. He glanced up and saw Jay watching him over the top of his phone, clearly amused.
“You look that bloke from Re-Animator. Proper mad scientist vibes.”
“Baking is a science, Jay. You need to be precise, or the results could be disastrous.”
“What, too much flour and the oven’ll explode?”
“Too much flour, the cake will be dense. Too little, it won’t be structurally sound. It’s important to get the proportions just right.”
Jay shook his head fondly, looking back down at his phone.
“Alright, Goldilocks… Ha! Told you!” he announced triumphantly, turning the screen towards Will. “See? Sprinkles in a sponge is a thing! It’s called ‘funfetti’. Look!”
Will glanced over, unimpressed. “I don’t know… Don’t you think it looks gaudy?”
“It’s festive,” Jay corrected. “Call it a modern twist on a classic.”
“Hm... I’ll take it under advisement.”
Flour weighed, Will returned his attention to a yellowing crumpled piece of paper on the counter. Jay eyed it curiously.
“Christ. Where’d that come from, King Tut’s tomb?”
“It’s my great-grandma’s sponge recipe,” Will said, smoothing it out carefully.
“Cool. You know I’ve got respect for the grandmas.” Surveying the neatly organised equipment on the bench, Jay stepped closer. “What am I doing then?”
Will hesitated. “I think I have it under control.”
“Come on, gimme something. I’ll just get bored and into bother otherwise.”
He made a good point.
“If you insist,” Will sighed, quickly seeking the most fool-proof task on offer. “Crack four eggs into that little bowl, please.”
“Shall do!”
As Will creamed the butter and sugar together with a hand mixer, Jay set about his job with unnecessary vigour. After the fourth egg was dealt with, he peered inside the bowl contemplatively.
“How much eggshell is acceptable in a Victoria sponge?”
“None,” Will said flatly. “Fish it out.”
Jay grinned. “Right. Soz.”
After removing the wayward shell from the bowl, Jay presented it to Will proudly.
“There you go. Four eggs, no shell.”
“Wonderful,” Will said, sounding genuinely pleased. “Thank you.”
Will worked through the rest of the recipe as Jay hovered, stealing bits of mixture from the spoon and earning half-hearted swats in response. Eventually, the batter went into the oven.
“Cool,” Jay said, dusting his hands off. “Job’s a good ’un then?”
“Almost. I just want to make the buttercream so it’s ready for later.”
While Will weighed out butter with surgical precision, Jay decided to be proactive. He grabbed the bag of icing sugar and attempted to tear it open. A little too enthusiastically. A white cloud exploded into the air. For a moment, neither of them could see anything but a choking powdery haze. When the dust settled, the counter, the floor, and both lads were dusted in a fine layer of white.
Jay cringed. “Oops.”
“Fucking hell!” Will spluttered. “How did you manage that?”
“I slipped.”
“It’s even in my hair!”
Jay smirked. “You’ve had worse things in your hair than that before.”
“Don’t remind me!” Will’s face flushed as he grabbed a mop, trying to contain the chaos. “It’s everywhere!”
“Don’t worry,” Jay said lightly, reaching for a cloth. “It’ll clean up.”
As Will muttered under his breath as he aggressively tackled the floor, Jay surveyed the countertop. A thick layer of icing sugar had settled in a perfect tempting sheet. Smirking, he scraped some powder into a small pile, then formed it into a crude line with his fingers.
“Oi… who’s this then?”
When Will looked over, Jay grinned, animatedly throwing his hands in the air.
“Say g’night to da bad guy!”
He then brought his face to the countertop and mimed snorting the line. Will looked horrified.
“Don’t you dare! That’s so dangerous!”
Jay rolled his eyes. “Calm down, it’s not anthrax.”
“Inhaling any particulate matter into your lungs can cause aspiration pneumonia, you idiot! You’ll look like a right tit in A&E, trying to explain how you Scarface’d a bag of Tate & Lyle!”
Jay sniggered, aerating some of the icing sugar. He accidentally inhaled. Immediately choked. Coughed. And managed to puff a sugary cloud straight back into his own face. Will watched in disbelief as Jay turned to him, streaming hazel eyes poking out of an otherwise pure white mask. For a split second, Will held firm. Then he broke. A bright incredulous laugh escaped him.
“See?” Jay sputtered in between coughs. “Made you laugh! Worth it!”
Will shook his head. “You’re an absolute dickhead. Come here.”
He took Jay by the arm and led him to the sink, switching the tap on. As Jay started rinsing the sugar out of his eyes, Will reached for the cloth and started wiping down the dusty countertop. He glanced over at Jay, noting the icing sugar sticking to his hair and t-shirt, and felt something warm swell in his chest.
“You look like you’ve lost a fight with an artificial snowman.”
“Should have seen the other guy,” Jay quipped over the gushing tap.
“Honestly, look at the state of this place! Are you going to be this messy when we live together?”
Jay whipped around in surprise.
“…When we what?”
Will froze mid-wipe.
“…I mean…”
Jay’s grin spread slowly. “Did you say ‘when we live together’?”
“I meant in the future!” Will rushed. “The distant future!”
“Aww, future?” Jay cooed. “Didn’t realise you were so committed!”
“I’ll have you committed, you dick!” Will spluttered. “You’re the one who was talking about proposing the other week!”
“You’re blushing!”
“Fuck off!”
“Nope!”
Jay stepped forward and grasped Will’s shoulders, meeting him in a deep kiss. Gripping the counter behind him for balance, Will let himself be pressed against as things quickly turned more feverish. Water, icing sugar, and everything in between transferred between them. Eventually, they stopped for breath, but still stayed in each other’s space. Will felt his heart racing, his brain temporarily turned to mush.
“And now we’re sticky,” he supplied lamely.
“Mm, could be stickier…”
Jay’s lips brushed against Will’s collarbone, his hands leaving Will’s shoulders and sliding southward.
“Absolutely not,” Will muttered, grasping Jay’s wrists. “Not in my mother’s kitchen.”
With a grin, Jay obliged. “Fine. Maybe when we’ve got our own kitchen then.”
With one final kiss, they stepped apart.
“So, what else can I help with?” Jay asked.
Will snorted. “I think you’ve helped enough.”
“Fair. You done with the eggs?”
Will narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why?”
“You hungry? I can make dippy eggs and soldiers.”
Will was all primed and ready to tease his boyfriend’s apparent obsession with children’s food. Until he remembered just how much he loved dippy eggs and soldiers himself.
“That actually sounds wonderful,” he admitted. “Not quite Turkey Dinosaurs, but it’ll do.”
Jay was already clattering a saucepan out of the cupboard. “Don’t worry. It’ll be all the Turkey Dinosaurs you can eat when we live together.”
He grinned widely, even as a damp cloth came flying at his head.
By the time they’d finished eating, the sponges were ready to come out of the oven. As they sat cooling on the countertop, Jay emptied the rest of the supermarket carrier bag out onto the kitchen table. They spent the best part of an hour tasting and trading their sweets, bantering over whose choices were superior.
Finally, the sponges were cool enough to add the finishing touches. Jay stood back and watched as Will assembled the cake carefully, layering one sponge with jam and buttercream before placing the second neatly on top. All it needed was a final dusting of icing sugar. Traditional. Respectable. Classic.
Will reached for the sifter and paused. He glanced at Jay. Then reached for a small bowl and a teaspoon instead. He worked quickly, making a thin mixture of icing sugar and water and lightly spreading it over the top of the cake with a pastry brush. He recovered the sprinkles from where they’d been shoved to the back of the counter and held them out to Jay.
“Care to do the honours?”
Jay hesitated, clearly surprised, before stepping forward. “Yeah?”
“Call it an experiment. I blame the sugar rush.”
“Nice one!”
“Quickly now, before the glaze dries. A tasteful amount, please!”
“Tasteful’s my middle name, babe.”
Jay shook the sprinkles over the top with dramatic flair. Some landed in uneven clusters. A few bounced off the counter and skittered across the kitchen floor. Yet despite the inelegance, it worked. Once he was satisfied with his input, Jay returned to Will’s side. They both stood in silence, studying the finished cake.
“See?” Jay said proudly. “Much better.”
Will tilted his head. “It is a good-looking cake. A perfect blend of order and disorder.”
“Yep. Very us.”
Will found himself nodding in agreement. He turned to look at Jay. “Thank you. For today. I know this wasn’t exactly your idea of fun.”
Jay shrugged, but there was warmth in his expression. “Nah, I had fun. Didn’t realise baking was so involved. Or knackering.”
With a suggestive smile, Will stepped closer.
“Hope you’re not too knackered. Mum’s not due back for another few hours.”
“Yeah?”
Will answered by pulling him in, hands sliding to his waist. The kiss deepened quickly, escalating from teasing to something more intent in a matter of seconds.
“You still taste like icing sugar,” Will murmured against Jay’s mouth.
“Nah, that’s just my natural sweetness.”
Will chuckled throatily. “I think we’ve earned ourselves a shower, don’t you?”
Jay grinned. “Not gonna get clean that way, babe.”
They left the cake exactly where it was, their slightly chaotic masterpiece sitting proudly on the counter, as Will tugged Jay out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.