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Baking was supposed to be a short and sweet idea.
Baking was a great plan—romantic, sweet, and they would have a warm and delicious pie by the end of it. He was sure everything would go just fine.
After all, it was Harveston tradition to bake an apple with a loved one. Baking and cooking together was guaranteed to be an intimate, romantic experience.
Right?
Besides, today was the one day they were all available for a sleepover, and what kind of monthiversary would it be without sharing and stuffing their faces full of sugar?
Sure, they could’ve just bought a bag of chocolate from Sam’s Mystery Shop, but Epel suggested the idea of baking as a special sleepover idea. It was a tradition in his family that all couples baked an apple pie before. And what harm would it be to introduce his friends—no, boyfriends—to such a special and cherished tradition?
“Baking an apple pie is easy,” Epel said while they sat in the cafeteria earlier that day, his mouth full of food. “I’ve got a special recipe from home that tastes really good.”
The table was dead silent. That was weird—they were never silent.
Epel looked up from his cafeteria tray to look at everyone’s expressions. They all looked doubtful.
“Oh, c’mon! Don’t look at me like that! It’s easy, seriously! All you need is apples, a few other things, and we’ll have it! It tastes really good, too!”
“Epel,” Jack cleared his throat after taking a long sip from his bottle of water. “I love you, but that’s seriously a stupid idea.”
“I think it’s a sweet idea, actually,” Deuce commented. “It’s nice! We’re able to bake something with love that all of us can share. I wanna try Epel’s family recipe, too. I mean, if Epel is praising it so much, then it’s gotta be good, right?”
“Y’know that Epel glazes… like… every single apple recipe, right, Deuce?” Ace chirped up, nudging Deuce’s shoulder. “He’s seriously the apple watchman or something— oww! Epel! Quit kickin’ my damn feet under the table—!”
“I don’t think baking is a good idea,” Sebek shook his head. “Not with all five of us. Especially you, Ace.”
“Excuse me? What did I do?!”
“Back when you completed the Culinary Crucible elective course, you were complaining the entire time afterwards about how much cutting and handwork was needed to go into cooking! If you were complaining so much about something as little as chopping vegetables, I’m concerned how you’ll behave when baking.”
“That’s because I had to cook… like… thousands of servings of soup! Besides, it was only me cutting ‘em! Cutting all those vegetables was seriously a pain in the ass!”
“Oh, you’re exaggerating!” Sebek spat back. “You just refuse to admit your incompetence, you insolent, ill-mannered, foolish—”
“Ace isn’t bad when baking,” Deuce interrupted the two’s quarrelling. “I mean… we help Trey with baking for our Unbirthday Parties sometimes. Ace is kinda helpful.”
“Yeah. You’re another story, though, Deuce. Remember that time Trey told you to gently crack the eggs and you completely shattered them?”
“Shut up! That was one time—I didn’t mean to!”
“Oh yeah, speakin’ of. Hey, Jack~ you remember those macarons you made during the Culinary Crucible and how they were literally falling apart—”
“Shut up, Ace.”
“And I don’t wanna imagine you bakin’ in a kitchen, Sebek. You were dumb enough to fall for Lilia’s advice to try addin’ fermented beans and yogurt to a steak. That sounds disgusting, by the way. I dunno how Deuce and Jack didn’t throw up at the sight of it.”
“Wh… excuse me?! Deuce! Jack!! Which one of you told Ace about that?!”
The pitiful look on Deuce’s face said enough. Jack cleared his throat, suddenly looking interested in his cafeteria food.
Epel cleared his throat, trying to quickly change the topic. He was still eating, after all—he didn’t want to lose his appetite by trying to imagine whatever concoction Sebek put on his plate from following Lilia’s advice.
“None of y’all are getting my point!!” Epel grumbled. “Just think about it! Baking together seems like a fun way to pass the time, right? We’ve never baked together before. It’s a good sleepover idea, isn’t it?”
“But doesn’t baking an apple pie take… like… long?” Deuce frowned. “You know, with the dough, and apple filling, and…”
“Oh! We don’t need to worry about waiting for the dough or anythin’,” the shorter boy interrupted with a shake of his head. “The dough’s one of the trickier things to make, anyway. I made some pie dough a few weeks ago, it’s in Pomefiore’s freezer. We can just use that.”
Epel introduced the special apple pie recipe to Vil and Rook over one particularly cold January evening. His housewarden practically became addicted—Epel had never seen Vil eat so many servings of pie before. Ever since, Epel kept a few batches of homemade pie dough in the fridge in case Vil wanted to demand some more…
But that was for another story.
Epel looked back up at the other four boys at the table. Sebek and Jack still looked doubtful, Ace’s cheeks were puffed like a chipmunk full of food, and Deuce seemed interested in the idea.
Yet they were all just staring at him. Not agreeing.
Not yet.
“C’mon, please?”
Epel seriously didn’t want to resort to batting his eyelashes at all four of them. He was internally cringing at the thought.
“Or,” Sebek crossed his arms. “We could be smart and actually study for the upcoming test at the end of this month.”
All eyes moved to stare at Sebek in utter disbelief. Epel felt his jaw drop.
“…are ya fuckin’ serious?”
“On second thought,” Jack sighed, interrupting Epel before the latter could start yelling. “Maybe baking’s a better idea.”
“Yeah,” Deuce nodded in agreement. “I mean—I get that we probably should study, but…”
“I think you gotta just stop having a stick up your ass, Sebek,” Ace chirped in.
“Ace.”
“What? I’m just sayin’.”
“Well then! Guess we’re bakin’! This’ll go great!”
Epel didn’t know what kind of wishful thinking he was having earlier that day.
This was NOT going great whatsoever.
They were in Ramshackle’s kitchen—the one kitchen they could all be in without getting in trouble for staying up late and making a mess and causing a ruckus. After the dormitory got funding from the VDC, it surprisingly had a pretty large and decent kitchen space.
Epel instructed Ace and Deuce to borrow a few things from Heartslabyul’s kitchen: nothing big, just some measuring spoons, measuring cups, and a pie tray. Epel brought a few boxes of apples shipped from Harveston and his pie dough.
He brought a few extra pie doughs, just in case. They probably wouldn’t need it, Epel hoped, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Everyone knew the basic baking tools and ingredients involved—Epel made sure of that.
It was the instructions where all chaos began to break loose.
“We start with peeling and slicing the apples,” Epel said, handing everyone a single apple. “Just watch me cut ‘em first, so you know how big to cut it.”
With nimble fingers and precision, it took barely a minute before Epel had one apple, unpeeled, cut perfectly into quarter-inch slices.
“They’re meant to be about this thick,” he explained, holding the apple out for all of them to see. “Try keeping it around this size. If it’s too thin, it’ll melt into applesauce. But if it’s too thick, the apples’ll be too crisp.”
The rest of the boys began to peel and cut their apples. Epel moved to peel and cut another one. It was relatively quiet and peaceful for a few seconds.
Before Ace chirped up (of course it was Ace. He could never keep his damn mouth shut and just had to keep tempting others, didn’t he?).
“Hey, Deuce. Your apples are looking wayyy too thick, man.”
“Shut up, Ace,” the other boy mumbled, clearly focused on cutting his apple with as much focus as possible. “If anything, yours are looking too thin.”
“Excuse me? Mine are perfectly fine!”
The sudden commotion had Epel look up from his apple carving. He glanced down at Ace’s and Deuce’s apples.
“Uhh… they both look fine,” Epel commented with a shrug. “They’re not exactly the same size, but that’s fine.”
His blue eyes then glanced over at Jack’s apples. The beastman was leaned forward, staring at the apple with an intense look, making each cut as precise as possible. Epel barely ever saw such a look of pure dedication and focus on Jack’s face.
“Wow, Jack. Those apples are lookin’ pretty good.”
Jack didn’t reply. He didn’t speak, or hum, or nod, or show that he acknowledged Epel’s words in any way.
Ace and Deuce both shifted their gaze over to Jack upon hearing no response from the beastman. Both boys joined Epel in watching Jack focus on peeling each apple, putting way too much concentration and focus into them.
“Uhh… Jack?” Deuce muttered.
“Wowww. It’s so weird seein’ you so focused like this, Jack,” Ace drawed out in that exact tone he used to piss people off.
“Be quiet, Ace.”
“What? I didn’t even say anything.”
“I know you’re tryna piss me off. Quit. I’m focused.”
“Oh, psshh. Lameass.”
“You’re seriously so concentrated on cutting those apples, Jack,” Deuce’s tone had a hint of amazement and awe. “I mean—they’re cut perfectly, with the perfect thickness. That’s so cool!”
Jack simply hummed in reply, carefully continuing to cut each apple with precision.
“Yeah, but look at how slow Jack’s cuttin’ ‘em.”
“Ace.”
“Sheesh. Fine, fine…”
As Jack went back to focusing on slicing the fruit with care (albeit at a very slow pace), Epel turned to look at Sebek’s. Sebek’s apples were cut with clear attention, sure, but…
“…hey, Sebek?”
“What? I’m sure I’ve cut my apples with the most accuracy!”
“I mean… yeah, but… why are you missing three apple slices?”
“…”
Epel looked up at Sebek’s face, only noticing just now that Sebek’s cheek was slightly poked out. Ace and Deuce were also catching on, sparing glances at Sebek.
Ace burst out laughing.
“Hahaha! No way you were seriously just… what, sittin’ here and eatin’ the apples?!”
“I… I had to test the quality of the fruit, of course!” Sebek eventually stuttered back, red in the face. “Quit your laughter at once, Ace!””
Deuce was giggling. Ace was full-blown cackling. Sebek was fuming. Jack still had a look of pure focus on his face, probably trying his damned best to tune everyone else out.
Epel took a deep breath.
This was going to turn out fine.
Once all the apples were ready, Epel began to make the apple filling. On the stovetop, he stirred the apples alongside added butter, sugars, cornstarch, and a few spices and extra ingredients under medium heat.
As he did so, he continued with the instructions, “Two of you can roll out the pie doughs. Someone else can preheat the oven to… uhh… 400 degrees, if I remember right.”
Sebek moved to the oven, adjusting the heat settings. Jack took the first pie dough, tightening his apron again and getting the tools ready. Both of them were fine. Acting perfectly normal.
Meanwhile, Ace and Deuce started tugging at the second pie dough, already yelling at each other.
“I want to roll it!”
“Nuh-uh, Deuce! I already know you’re gonna be too rough with it! I touched the dough before you did!”
“I know I can roll it better than you can! Rolling dough takes energy! When Trey asks you to roll the pie dough, you’re always whining about how it makes your arms sore!”
“Oh, shut up! I only say that so that Trey makes you roll the dough instead!”
“You… wait, what—?!”
“Oh, c’mon! Just one of roll the damn dough!”
Their arguing ceased in less than a second. For a few seconds, it was silent. Epel stared back into the forming apple mixture, looking closely at the bubbling liquid and judging whether or not it was ready. Though he wasn’t looking, he assumed the rest of the guys were watching Ace roll the pie dough.
Eventually, Ace broke the silence, a tinge of mischief in his voice that Epel knew was a bad sign, “Hey~ you guys think I should do a trick?”
“What trick?” asked Sebek.
“It’s a trick that Trey does.”
“Oh,” Deuce blurted. “You mean the cool tossing trick that he does?”
“Yeah! That one! Y’know, where he lifts the dough up from his fingers into the air, spins it, and flips it up in the air.”
Epel’s expression shifted into a confused look. “What? You can flip pie dough in the air??”
“Yeah! I mean, Trey does it all the time. I can probably do it.”
“No you can’t,” Jack interrupted. “Trey can do it because he’s been bakin’ his whole life. He’s got more experience than you do.”
“Eh… but c’mon! I wanna try it. It probably won’t go wrong, right?”
Fuck no. Those words—especially from Ace, of all people—were never a good sign.
Epel finally turned his head, ready to sprint out and practically tackle Ace to the ground so he didn’t flip the dough…
…but he was too late.
The pie dough was already in the air.
And it didn’t fall back to the ground.
“Huh…?” the lavender-haired boy mumbled.
“Oh… shit.”
All four of them were staring up at the ceiling. In curiosity and confusion, Epel’s eyes drew to where they were looking.
The dough was stuck to the fucking ceiling.
“...”
There was a deafening silence.
“...how the fuck did you do that?” Jack finally asked.
“Wh— I don’t know! How am I supposed to know?!”
“How is it stuck to the ceiling?!” Deuce exclaimed.
“Ace, you utter fool!” Sebek’s booming voice followed. “You threw it up in the air like a basketball!”
“Well, it’s not like I meant to! Deuce dared me to, anyway!”
“What?! I did not—!”
Epel forced himself to look away and focus back on finishing the pie filling before dealing with that mess.
Guess it was a good idea to bring a few extra pie doughs, after all.
Whatever. This was fine. The pie would turn out fine.
After a few minutes, they had a new pie dough rolled and prepared in the pie plate. Deuce rolled the dough—Ace remained standing on the other side of the counter, temporarily forbidden from touching it. Epel didn’t know if he would ever let Ace touch the damn dough again. Jack already had the second pie dough rolled out and prepared.
Epel was spooning the apple filling over the bottom crust, concentrating on levelling it out evenly. The rest of the boys were leaning in close, watching Epel’s careful movements.
“The pie filling smells wonderful,” Sebek commented. “What kind of pattern will we use for the pie’s top?”
“I think we could do just a simple cover,” Epel replied, still focused. “We can just cut four slits on the top of the dough so the steam can vent out.”
Usually, Epel liked to do a lattice patternfor the pie’s top crust. But that was probably too much of a hassle for them tonight—it took an extra few minutes to get the crust perfectly weaved together, after all.
Once finished with the pie filling, Epel pressed the second dough over the pie crust, neatly tucking it in. But before Epel could cut the slits into the middle of the pie, Deuce spoke up,
“Wait. Let me! I wanna try something.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure. Just make sure you cut four small slits into the pie.”
Epel didn’t ask any questions before handing Deuce the knife. The second he handed it to Deuce, doubt immediately crossed Epel’s mind—he probably should’ve asked Deuce what he was planning to do.
But before he could ask, Deuce had already cut four lines into the top of the pie dough.
Two vertical lines. One tiny vertical line in the middle beneath them. One line curved into the shape of a smile.
He drew a damn smiley face into the pie dough. With a nose.
Epel didn’t know whether to find it adorable or horrifying.
“…Oh!” he managed to blurt out, trying to occupy the silence that suddenly took over Ramshackle’s kitchen. “That’s… umm…”
Ace burst out laughing immediately, pointing a finger at the stupid face carved into the pie and laughing even harder.
Jack took an audible deep breath. Sebek just stared down at the smiley face, his expression a mix of horror and disappointment.
Deuce’s confident expression shifted into one of confusion, then sheepish embarrassment.
“Does it really look that bad?” the boy asked, looking back down at his work. “I thought drawing a smile would be sweet…”
“No. No, it’s… it’s nice,” Jack finally managed, clearly trying to keep a stoic tone.
At the same time, Ace was still laughing his ass off. Sebek’s eyes were closed and his lips were pursed shut, trying not to show any apparent reaction.
“It’s… uhh… cute,” Epel quickly stammered in reply, forcing his gaze away from the pie to turn to Deuce. “It’s sweet! It’s just… made with extra love, now, I guess.”
“That smile looks idiotic!” Sebek finally blurted out. “Why is the length of its nose as long as the length of its eyes?!”
“W-Well! Could you draw a smiley face any better than this, Sebek?!”
“I know I could!”
“No you can’t,” Jack chimed in, shaking his head with crossed arms. “Remember when our classes were in that joint art class last month?”
Epel had to bite his inner cheek at the memory. Sebek’s artistic skills were… unique, that was for sure. Deuce’s lips puffed up, clearly stifling back laughter, while Ace began cackling even louder.
Sebek loudly cleared his throat, trying to change the topic despite his pink face, flustered in embarrassment.
“Will it really bake alright like that…?” the half-fae spoke up, concern and confusion in his voice. “The steam vents in a pie are crucial, no?
Epel nodded. “Nah, it’s fine. It’ll bake fine like this… probably.”
Hopefully it would. Hopefully the pie didn’t explode in the oven. Deuce might’ve made the smile’s line a tad bit too big for it to bake in the oven nicely… but…
Epel couldn’t bite back a small smile.
Baked with extra love. That was definitely a way to put it. This would bake just fine.
(And Epel was trying his damned hardest not to look back at the pie and join Ace on his boisterous, way-too-damn-contagious laughter.)
Before they could put the pie into the oven, they had to brush the pie crust’s surface with an egg wash. While Ace and Deuce were trying to get the first pie dough off the ceiling while engaged in a yelling match with Sebek, Epel monitored Jack as he made the egg wash.
The beastman cracked the egg just fine, added a tablespoon of water, and whisked it with ease.
“Y’know how macarons are made from egg whites, right?” Jack asked, continuing after Epel nodded. “I had to make ‘em for the culinary crucible. I think I’ve got some experience with whisking eggs.”
“You… wait, you seriously whisked egg whites for merengue with your hands?! I thought you could only do that with a hand mixer.”
Jack gave a small nod in return, looking back at the bowl and continuing to intensely focus on mixing the egg wash. Epel’s jaw was agape in disbelief.
Then again, Jack had a ton of arm strength. It probably wasn’t any problem for someone like Jack to do it…
“Okay. Is this lookin’ good?”
“Huh? Oh— yeah. Yeah, that looks good,” Epel quickly nodded, shifting back into focus. “Now you gotta take the pastry brush and brush the egg wash over the pie.”
“Gotcha.”
Epel’s gaze flickered back to the other three boys. Deuce and Sebek were letting Ace stack up on their shoulders, prying the dough off the ceiling. He didn’t know why they didn’t grab a chair, but whatever. It looked like the method was working for them, after all.
He looked back to watch Jack. Jack was carefully brushing the pastry brush over the pie crust, ensuring it was fully coated with the egg wash.
He was doing it way too carefully.
“Jack,” Epel commented. “You don’t have to be that careful and precise with it, y’know…”
“It’s fine,” Jack muttered back, not looking up. “The egg wash makes the pie look better when it’s done bakin’. And it’s also egg wash—it’s gonna add a bit of extra protein, too.”
“Huh… okay.”
Epel figured he would just let Jack do his thing.
Even as Jack’s hands began to tremble from pure focus. Even as the minutes passed. Even as he heard the other three boys yelling at each other. Even as he heard someone—presumably Ace—crash and fall onto the ground.
Whatever. This pie would turn out fine—Epel knew it.
(But a burning smell began to linger in the air. That was probably a bad sign.)
There was a smoky scent clinging to Epel’s nostrils. Epel was trying to ignore it: Ramshackle’s dorm probably had a few burns occur here and there. Even if the kitchen had been renovated, there were probably some burning smells still hanging in the air, right?
Though, the minute Epel approached the oven which Sebek was graciously opening the door for, Epel could tell something was wrong.
First, the burning smell somehow got even stronger—Epel’s nose couldn’t even ignore it anymore.
Second, the oven’s heat was practically blasting in his face. 400 degrees Fahrenheit should not have been this damn hot.
“Uhhh… wait, close it,” Epel told Sebek, placing the pie tray back on the stove.
A confused look flickered on the half-fae’s face before he closed the oven. The burning smell eased off slightly. “Why? What’s the matter?”
“How hot did you put this thing?”
“400 degrees! Just like you told me!”
“Yeah, but why is it so damn hot?! It shouldn’t be this hot!”
Epel tried looking at the stove’s settings. It was a different kind of stove—he had never seen a model quite like it before. But sure enough, it read 400 degrees.
Underneath was a small ‘C’.
“…Sebek!! Why in the Sevens is this set in Celsius?!”
“I— You told me to set it that hot!”
“I meant Fahrenheit!!”
Epel forgot to specify that when he was telling Sebek to preheat the oven, didn’t he?
“Oh, for fucks sake…” the short boy grumbled, taking off his oven mitts. Epel began to frantically push random buttons on the stove, trying to adjust and change the oven’s heat settings.
Did he know what he was doing? No.
But was he still trying? Yes.
“Hey, wait,” Deuce spoke up. “We could bake the apple pie way quicker like this, couldn’t we? We could have it ready in just one minute!”
Hearing those words had Epel’s brain short-circuit for a minute.
He sounded actually genuine. Epel couldn’t believe it. Deuce was just messing with him, right? Hopefully he was…
“Ooh, yeah,” Ace chimed in, mischief on his expression and clearly messing with the other boy. “That seems like a great idea, Deuce. We can just speedrun baking and we’ll have the pie done quicker.”
“Yeah! I knew you’d understand!”
So he wasn’t just messing with him.
“Uhh, no. The pie will explode in the oven if we do that!” Jack interrupted. “We are not doin’ that! How do you two not know that?!”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I think we should,” Ace shrugged. “That’d be kinda funny.”
“Wh… wait, no! How would that be funny?!” Deuce exclaimed, shoving Ace with his shoulder. “Don’t be an ass! The pie’s already smelling so good. I wanna eat it, already…”
“I agree with Deuce,” Sebek nodded, arms crossed. “I’m eager to try this pie. You’ve already caused enough tomfoolery for everybody today.”
“Oww. You guys are soooo mean,” the ginger whined.
“You know exactly why,” the beastman sighed.
“It’s because you’ve been rage-baiting everyone this entire time, Ace,” Deuce grumbled. “Why are you acting so… well… dumb? You aren’t like this when we’re baking for the dorm…”
“You’re seriously sayin’ I’m actin’ dumb? When you seriously thought cooking the pie in the oven with that heat was gonna bake it quicker?”
“Shut up, Ace.”
“No, I don’t—”
“How the fuck do you change the settings on this stupid oven?!?!”
Epel’s shriek was effective in shutting everybody else up.
Sebek approached quickly, his booming voice echoing back in Epel’s ears. “It’s the button right there!”
“Where?!”
With the press of a button, the tiny letter beneath the oven’s temperature changed.
“...”
Epel hadn’t even noticed that damn button.
Sebek was looking at him with a smug expression. “There. Wasn’t that hard, was it?”
The shorter boy took a deep breath, adjusting the temperature again. He didn’t want Sebek and his high ego to piss him off even more.
This. Was. Fine.
The pie would turn out fine. They were almost done. Epel was hoping with his damn life that the pie didn’t explode.
The pie was finally in the oven, baking for a set amount of time. Epel instructed everyone to start putting away the ingredients.
For some reason, Ace insisted on being the one to put away the carton of eggs. Now that Epel thought about it, it was certainly a bad idea. But he didn’t think twice about it as the boy took the carton. Epel was cleaning the countertops with a hot soapy cloth, trying to keep his shit together.
Until Ace spoke up, mischief lingering in his tone. “Hey~ Deuce. Catch this.”
“Huh? Catch what—?”
Splat.
The sudden noise had Epel’s head whip up, searching the room for the source of the sound.
There was a cracked egg on the ground.
And there was yolk dripping down Sebek’s shirt.
Ace had thrown a damn egg at Sebek.
Sebek dropped the bag of flour on the ground with a loud thud, powder spilling absolutely everywhere and a large white cloud exploding like a smoke bomb.
“...Ace.”
“Uhh… yeah?”
“Did you seriously just throw an egg at me?!”
“Well, hey! It wasn’t like I meant to! I was tryna throw it at Deuce! You just happened to move right in front of it.”
“You absolute idiot! Why are you throwing eggs?!”
“Sheesh, c’mon! I didn’t mean to throw it at you—!”
Epel watched as Sebek threw an egg back at Ace.
The half-fae had a confident look on his face as he laughed, “Hah! You are an utter fool to dare challenge me to such a fight!”
It took Epel a solid minute to understand.
They were starting a damn food fight.
Eggs were flying everywhere in the kitchen. Deuce was quick to join, grabbing an egg and outright smacking Ace with it. Jack somehow joined in—despite being at the sink and previously washing dishes, he was flicking water back at everyone else. Everyone was starting to yell and scream.
“Why are we havin’ a food fight now?! We were just startin’ to clean up!” Jack yelled, yet his hand proceeded to throw a measuring cup full of soapy water onto Sebek.
“Ace—! You piece of shit, you’re gonna regret throwin’ that!” Deuce called out with no filter, eggs dripping down from his shirt as he threw and cracked another egg open and right onto Ace’s face.
For a minute, Epel didn’t know whether to scream or scream and join in.
But he quickly decided on the latter.
He loved a good food fight. And Epel wasn’t going to miss out on the chaos.
He grabbed the crate of apples he brought along, taking an apple and getting a solid hit on absolutely everyone. Was he throwing roughly and harshly? Yes, definitely. But he didn’t care.
He was going to win this damn food fight, no matter how messy this kitchen looked by the end of it.
Apples and eggs were flying everywhere. There was powder everywhere—a mix of flour and cinnamon. Epel was coughing out of his mind, jumping on half of the counters to aim his shots more effectively. Deuce was using a glass bowl as a shield, which surprisingly didn’t break. When the carton of eggs was empty, Ace resorted to throwing the scrap pie dough at people. Sebek was throwing flour on everything and everyone. Jack was flicking water everywhere.
Everybody was running around Ramshackle’s kitchen, slipping and sliding while trying to get a hit on somebody.
All until the oven timer dinged, interrupting their food fight with a blaring ring.
And the kitchen looked like a fucking warzone.
“...fuck.”
So much for Epel cleaning the countertops just minutes earlier…
To be perfectly honest, this was probably going to be the last time any of them were ever allowed to set foot into Ramshackle’s kitchen.
They had cleaned the room up enough, but their appearances were another story altogether.
Ace was sitting on the now-mopped kitchen floor with his back against the cabinets, flour and eggshells dusted over his hair, while his shirt was stained with egg yolk and soap.
Deuce’s shoulders were shaking from how hard he was breathing and laughing. He was slumped against the cabinets, sitting beside Ace. His hair was sticking up in all directions, sticky egg whites clumping strands of his hair, while a dust of cinnamon coated the peak of his nose.
Jack’s arms remained crossed as he leaned against the now-clean kitchen counter, a mix of soap, flour, and eggs all splattering his body. He was trying to keep a straight face—like their food fight hadn’t done anything to him at all—but his puffed-up cheeks told a different story.
Sebek looked like he had been the victim of some flour-monster. Flour dusted his clothes, his hair, even parts of his eyelashes. Yet he wore a triumphant grin and took pride in the egg currently dripping wet from his ear as he sat on the floor.
Epel didn’t know what he looked like. But by judging how the rest of the guys were looking at him? He probably didn’t look much better. Epel could tell an egg yolk was dripping from his hair, and his eyelashes were coated with flour, but that was about it. Oh, and his clothes were sticky with apple juice.
Nonetheless, Epel’s stomach hurt.
Not just because he was hungry (though that was a good point—the apple pie smelled wonderful, after all).
But because he had been laughing so damn hard. He couldn’t quite catch his breath from laughing without a break.
All five of the boys were quiet, heavily panting and taking a breather. The surrounding air smelled like cinnamon, sugars, and an apple pie fresh from the oven. Epel dug the knife into the pie, carefully and evenly slicing it. He laid out each slice on one plate for the five of them to share.
The apple pie had somehow kept its smiley face. The crust’s edges were browned and crisp, looking absolutely beautiful and edible. And despite the mishap with setting the oven’s temperature… the pie still looked golden and delicious.
“…do we even bother heading to the dinin’ room to eat?” Epel mumbled.
Jack shook his head. “We might as well just share a bite here in the kitchen.”
“Yeah. I guess everyone’s already sittin’, anyway.”
Epel handed each boy a plate and forks. He cleared his throat before anybody could take a bite.
“Uhh… I just wanted to say,” Epel stumbled over his words, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Happy monthiversary. I love all of you. And… uhh… thanks. For helpin’ with the pie, and everythin’...”
“Aww, Epel. You’re bein’ such a sap right now,” Ace teased with a grin.
Epel shot him a glare. “Shut up.”
“Uh… yeah. I wanna thank you guys, too,” Deuce stuttered. “For… um…. Everything. Today was seriously really fun. I love all of you. And thanks for the pie, Epel! This smells so good…”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. This was a much better way to spend our monthiversary than studying.”
The comment was an obvious, playful jab at Sebek. The half-fae cleared his throat, looking sheepish as he replied, “Well… I suppose sacrificing our studies over this deliciousness was worth it, after all. I echo back Epel’s sentiments—I love you all dearly.”
“Yeah, I love you guys, too,” Ace hummed. “Happy monthiversary.”
All eyes turned to Jack expectantly, waiting for him to echo the words.
The beastman took a deep sigh, muttering under his breath while his face flushed red, “I love you all, too.”
Hearing all four of the boys echo back his words made the butterflies in Epel’s stomach flutter and twist. Warmth, love, and comfort took over and relaxed his body back against the wall.
Nonetheless, despite the sudden warmth spreading over his cheeks, Epel lifted his plate up to the air. “Now, let’s eat! I know damn well this’ll be the best apple pie ever.”
Somehow, despite the chaos that came while they were trying to bake the apple pie, it was an intimate and fun experience.
And as Epel took a bite from the pie—sweetness and warm apples immediately filling his senses—he immediately melted, a wide grin spreading over his face as he stuffed another spoonful into his mouth. Not only was he melting into the pie’s delicious taste, but he was also melting into the comfort of his boyfriends all beside him.
Because, despite all the chaos and how non-romantic nearly everything was… this pie tasted like perfection. Warmth, comfort, intimacy, affection—all mixed into one.
That was the secret ingredient that every family back in Harveston used to make their pies excellent, after all.
The secret, yet most important ingredient of them all.
Love.