One would think that with nearly encyclopedic knowledge bestowed upon him, Conner Kent would be fully capable to handle making cookies.
And he was... The process of making said cookies was just more... Enthusiastic than usual.
M'gann was seated at the island in the kitchen, monitoring Conner's progress. Her fingers tapped rhythmically along the table. He brought the mixing bowl over to her, scooped up a bit of dough and held it out to her. She took the tiny bit of dough and popped it in her mouth, only to make a scrunched up face before swallowing.
"Please tell me I didn't forget the vanilla extract," he groaned.
She waved a hand, telekinetically opening a cupboard door. The bottle of vanilla extract flew it, setting itself in front of him. When he looked up at her, she merely shrugged a shoulder.
'You told me to not help, remember?' she told him through their mind link, making a zipper motion across her lips before mimicking the motion of tossing it behind her.
"Yeah yeah..." he muttered, turning around to pick up a set of measuring spoons.
Conner measured 1 1/2 teaspoons of the extract and mixed it into the rest of the dough.
M'gann leaned forward on her elbows, trying to catch a glimpse of how it was coming out. She wasn't able to see over Conner's shoulders. She huffed, making her bangs flutter lightly, and stood from her seat, walking over to him.
"Okay, try th-"
A spoonful of the dough ended up mushed against the side of M'gann's face.
"... Uhh... Sorry?" he said, reaching behind himself for a dish towel.
'If the next words out of your mouth are 'Too much at once', I am going to laugh,' she said telepathically, smiling despite the glob of cookie dough on her face.
"At least you don't have milk dripping down the front of your shirt like I did," he said.
She laughed lightly before using her tongue to catch some of the dough that had made its way onto her lips. She chewed thoughtfully and nodded her approval.
'You should try it,' she said, offering her cheek full of dough to him.
He noticed that her movement caused clumps of the dough to fall onto M'gann's shoulder. Conner grinned slyly. He hoisted her up, not missing her little squeak of surprise before setting her on the island in front of him, putting them at an even height.
"You offered," he said.
Before M'gann could even think anything, Conner pressed his open mouth to her cheek, tasting the cookie dough. He slid his lips down to her jaw, tongue lazily trailing against her skin and tasting the dough. She stifled little giggles at that and nearly failed to hold back a moan when he nipped at her pulse.
He came back up, dough and chocolate chips smeared against his lips, saying, "It was good, if I do say so myself."
M'gann responded by locking her legs around his waist and pulling him closer to her by his shirt.
"Oh, shut up," she said, pressing her lips against his.