Work Text:
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“Slingshot!” Coil dragged the word out, walking into the Thieves’ Rest as if he’d owned the place.
It took a bit of timing on his end, debating whether or not his boxing match against a few pieces of scrap would properly sync up with the other’s shift. Coming in with a few bruises never hurt anyone, after all.
“Coil, good afternoon,” Vinestaff greeted him with a tired-sounding voice, mumbling, “My brother’s in the back office. I’ll get him in a second.”
“See, this is why you’re my favorite of your siblings.” Coil would’ve smiled wider at her if it weren’t for how fast she’d turned around, yelling about how Slingshot’s regular had come back looking for him.
And he loved the look on the other’s face by the time he came out, giving feigned, exaggerated puppy-dog eyes to the other. That tiny height difference did make him look a little more ridiculous, though.
“You know, I was only joking about what I said to Vinestaff.” Coil’s tone was so mockingly sweet, holding back a laugh at Slingshot’s face. “Nobody could replace our oh-so-special bond.”
There was a sigh, but that monotone-sounding customer service voice switched itself on in an instant when Slingshot spoke:
“What food do you want?”
He hadn’t even bothered to read over the menu, not even once.
“I don’t know; all of it’s good when baked by you.”
“Great.”
“Sling, you’re hurting my feelings here!”
“And I’m so sorry for that.” Slingshot inhaled before saying that wasn’t beyond him.
Coil’s eyes finally flickered to the menu above the other’s head at that reply, trying to conjure up what mess of words he could spit out this time before getting in trouble.
“Give me a good chocolate cake, but hold the milk and eggs. And don’t add too much flour; it flares up my allergies.” Bullshit, bullshit, and a little bit more of it on top.
He could see the debate behind the other’s eyes on whether or not to humor that with a typical customer service response or to just kick Coil out of the establishment.
“I can bring you a chocolate bar.”
Customer service response it was.
“But, Slingshot, I ordered a cake, and I know you could make it happen! With your skills, you could really just do it all for me, couldn’t you?”
“Chocolate bar, or no?”
And there was the rudeness slipping in. Slingshot’s low tolerance for him in specific didn’t bother him; if anything, it was funny.
“Make cake happen for me?”
Coil watched the other rub at the bridge of his nose before grumbling, “Out.”
“Couldn’t hear you over your love for me, and how much money I bring here as a paying customer.”
“Out, Coil. Get out.”
“Really?”
And there went his bux, slipped across the counter and directly into the other’s hand. Couldn’t kick a paying customer out of his establishment without feeling somewhat guilty.
It made the other his favorite guilty pleasure, grinning at how easily he took the money.
“So, chocolate cake, no milk, no eggs, and not a lot of flour?”
Slingshot looked like death.
“Ay-ay, captain.”
Watching Slingshot’s face as he baked was something else entirely. He just looked so annoyed! It wasn’t anything major, considering how many times Coil had pulled that ‘customer’ agenda.
Taking a seat at the counter, which felt so specifically made for him, was even better.
Coil got to prop himself up against his palm, casually watching the other attempt to mix together what was practically nothing with a dash of water. The fact that it wasn’t crowded was his own personal cherry on top; it meant he could keep this up as long as he wanted.
Vinestaff had been gone an awful long time, though.
The minute he was about to ask about her, he saw her step out of the back office before mumbling, “Oh, you’re joking.”
Before going back in.
It didn’t look that bad, did it?
Him somewhat admiring Slingshot while he worked?
It might look a little bad, actually.
The work didn’t take long to begin with, considering his lack of everything within the recipe.
It was a mix of some sad liquid drops, sugar, and baking powder. Slingshot hadn’t even bothered mixing up the bowl properly for Coil, only giving him one big passive-aggressive smile.
“Oh, Sling, where’s my cake?” He gave one pout before pushing the bowl back towards the other, some more bux hiding under it.
“In front of you.”
“But my real cake!”
“That’s about as real as real gets.”
Coil didn’t reply to that, only continuing to try to look pitiful. It worked for another minute or so before he burst out laughing, unable to contain it.
“Do you want the real chocolate cake?” Slingshot took the bowl back as he said that, adding the other ingredients in without giving him a chance to answer.
“Maybe. I think I might prefer your vanilla, though.”
“You’re getting the chocolate.”
“Oh, so commanding.”
There was only silence between them before he decided to go for a different sort of stunt, questioning, “You didn’t ask me the name for my order today. You want to explain that?”
“I don’t want to call out a name I know you don’t go by.”
Coil was right back to looking smug when he heard that. Slingshot was still giving in to all of his teasing for nothing more than 60 bucks.
“I go by all of the names you call out!”
“Including ‘The Beast’?”
“That’s the one ladies call in bed, but I think it works with you saying it, too.”
He’d quietly stuffed the image of Slingshot blushing in the back of his head, smirking as the man tried to play it off by listing names, “Do you have a name in mind for today, then? And no BatPhernal, Spider Inphernal, Dilda, Scooby-doo—”
“I got it after the third one.”
“Just making sure you got it.” The other looked at him after putting the cake in the oven, raising an eyebrow and going, “So, which name for your order?”
“The Beast.”
Coil could feel his grin grow as Slingshot flushed, and he was beginning to lighten up while waiting for his cake.