“Fuck!” Crutchie frantically waved his towel through the smoke as the sound of the alarm rang through his ears. The smoke coming from the oven spilled out through the door. Crutchie grabbed the oven mitts sitting on the counter and pulled the now-burnt cake out of the oven. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He exclaimed as he raced over to the sink. He dumped the pan into the sink and drenched the smoking cake in cold water to stop the smoke. He let the water run over the blackened bread and ran a hand through his hair, sighing.
The smoke alarm had yet to cease when Finch walked through the door. His face dropped when he saw the scene before him. The oven was on and wide open, the alarm was beeping sporadically, and Crutchie had his face in his hands while water was pouring over a burnt cake. After he processed everything, Finch laughed. Crutchie immediately looked up and groaned.
“Happy birthday to me!” Finch laughed out. Crutchie gave him a hopeless look and put his face back into his hands. Finch smiled and walked over to the incessant alarm. He turned it off and strolled over to Crutchie, who was still grieving. Finch shut off the water from the sink and wrapped his arms around Crutchie’s waist.
“Hey.” Finch said lovingly as he placed a kiss on the top of Crutchie’s head. Crutchie lifted his head and sighed. He let himself lean into Finch’s embrace and he leaned his head on Finch’s shoulder.
“I was just trying to make you a cake. You know, for your birthday. I just wanted it to be special.” Crutchie admitted sadly.
Finch tucked his fingers under Crutchie’s chin and pressed so he would look him in the eyes. “Crutch, I really appreciate it. Thank you, but you really didn’t have to. As long as I’m with you, my birthday is special. Everyday with you is special.” He pressed a kiss to Crutchie’s nose. “Because I love you. Even though you can’t bake to save your life.”
Crutchie smacked his arm at the comment, but laughed along with him. “You’re right. And I love you too. That’s why I wanted to bake that stupid cake.” He gave Finch a quick kiss and glanced back to his horrific creation that was sitting, sopping in the sink. “Maybe next year I’ll just have Specs bake something and bring it over.”
Finch laughed and pulled Crutchie in for a big hug. God he loved his dork.
“Or,” Finch gently tapped Crutchie’s nose. “We could forget the cake and go get Waffle House. I like syrup better than frosting anyways.” Crutchie grinned so wide, Finch thought his face was going to split in half.
“Happy birthday babe.”
They walked hand in hand to the Waffle House down the street, where there may or may not have been dozens of “Happy birthdays”, “I love yous”, and syrup flavored kisses shared.