First of many Frucien [Freya/Lucien] oneshots.
Freya tries to bake and Lucien intervenes.
Lucien wakes up to the sound of the fire alarm, which was actually kind of confusing considering he's usually the one setting that thing off. But there he was laying in bed, oblivious to the world, waking up to the piercing, screeching sound of what was probably the most evil fire alarm to have ever existed, intent on Lucien's destruction. So Lucien gets up and goes to do what he does best, he snoops.
'Gets up' is putting it loosely though. 'Gets up' would imply that he's somewhat in control of his limbs, that the alarm didn't actually pierce his ear drums with its incessant waling, that he didn't yelp out an embarrassingly high pitched noise as he collapsed to the floor from the abrupt noise. He doesn't get up as much as he scrambles the fuck off the floor because he doesn't see Freya mirroring his reactions by the floor so she must've left for class already or something (because honestly Lucien didn't really know what day it was, and frankly didn't care), and grabs the metal bat he keeps by his bed and runs in the direction of the sound to either a) destroy the godforsaken thing, or, in the case of a legitimate danger, b) beat the fire up, apparently.
It's only when he's halfway into the kitchen where the stupid thing is hanging that he catches the scent of smoke, and his grip on the bat tightens since it seemed like option b might become a very distinct possibility. He doesn't seem to see any smoke, but as he gets closer to the kitchen, over the sound of the fire alarm he hears an exasperated little voice going, "Oh no! Oh no! Stop, ah, fuck, how is this happening right now."
He rounds the corner to see his kitchen (yes his kitchen, if Freya insists that he shop for real groceries and he takes it upon himself to make sure they're fed at least 3 times a week, then damn right he was going to take ownership of that shit) absolutely covered in flour, and used bowls, and half mixed ingredients, and a certain Freya Mikaelson standing by the over trying to get the fire alarm to turn off and simultaneously flapping a ratty towel at the oven as if it was doing anything for the smell or generally smoky condition of the room, looking absolutely adorable in his apron and a pair of oven mitts she'd gotten him once.
Freya finally gets her shit together and manages to turn off the alarm, and gives up on trying to get the smoke to clear, so she slams it shut, turns to lean on the counter and closes her eyes in exasperation, trying to steady her breathing after the fiasco she'd just caused. Lucien literally can't believe what he's seeing, so he lets the bat drop haphazardly to the ground with a loud clang, and Freya's still wound up at the sound she lets out a tiny scream, but when she sees it's Lucien her face doesn't change to her usual smile and instead crumples back into the face of worry she had on before, "Fuck, Lucien, you weren't supposed to wake up!" Her eyes widen as she sees his eyes flicker from hers to counter to examine the damage she'd done to his kitchen, "You weren't supposed to see any of this, oh my god."
A look of realization comes over his face as he puts the pieces together. The apron, the oven mitts, the messy, flour covered kitchen. Freya had been baking.His Freya. Freya Mikaelson. A laugh bubbles up deep in his belly, and he can't control himself, and he's shaking and clutching at his stomach before he can't hold it in anymore, and he doubles over cackling hysterically.
Now, Freya Mikaelson is good, fantastic even, at many, many, many, things, but there was a reason that they realized and acknowledged as fact that this kitchen was Lucien's. Cooking didn't make sense to her. Follow the recipe, don't follow the recipe, she still always ended up making the crappiest food known to man. She's always stuck to making salads, and it's done her well in the long run, but after moving in with Lucien, she never had to worry about depending on takeout and salad ever again because that boy with a saucepan was a force to be reckoned with.
By the time Lucien straightens up and wipes the tears from his eyes, Freya's pouting with her nose turned up to face away from him. She sneers, "Are you done?"
Lucien makes his way over to her, extending his hands out to wrap around her waist and nuzzle at her neck, "To be fair, I kinda have laughing rights right now. Look what you did to my kitchen! How will I ever recover?"
Her pout melts off her face as she feels his sleep warm face at the crook of her neck, arms wrapped around her waist, and she says in a small voice, "It was snowing again, and I just, I dunno, it reminded me of you and New Orleans's so cold and I suck at cooking so I thought I'd try my hand at baking and the bake shop is too far and I wanted to make you gingerbread so we could decorate them together, but apparently I must have some deep seated issues with fire and how it should and shouldn't be used because I literally almost just set the house on fire, and burned those cookies to a crisp."
"Freya, you're babbling. Isn't that my job?" He says, kissing her on the shoulder, trailing kisses up her neck.
"I messed up your kitchen," She frowns, evidently very upset with herself, leaning back into his touch. "Why'd you bring the bat? Thought our fire alarm was planning on robbing you?"
"Something like that."
"Not very talkative for a guy who just got rudely woken up by the world's shittiest cook. I must've done something right," she laughs.
Lucien is too distracted to retort something witty, still floored by Freya Mikaelson, overworked girlfriend extraordinaire who got out of bed early on a Sunday and valiantly attempted to bake something just for him. He maneuvers his body so that she's pressed up against the counter, and lifts her onto the messy, flour and batter covered top and ditches his gentle neck kisses to pull her into something a lot hungrier, pulling her hips closer to his, and letting her hands grip his hair and neck. Once they break away from each other to catch a breath, Lucien pants, "Yep, you definitely did everything right," and Freya presses her lips together in a tight smile in that way that she does when Lucien has that look on his face, and she feels like she just can't seem to catch a breath.
They pull apart for another second, and Lucien reaches behind her to dip his finger in the remaining batter, and sucks it into his mouth to get a taste, "You know, Freya, this batter isn't half bad. We should try it again-" he cuts off when he catches the hungry look on Freya's face, eyes glazed over ever since she watched him suck his fingers into his mouth, bringing up memories of when his fingers were covered in something slightly different from her rancid cookie batter.
She pulls him forward by his collar, wrapping her legs around his waist and says, "Maybe later." And Lucien gets the message and they end up getting his kitchen even dirtier than Freya'd originally expected.
Later, when they're both covered in flour and cinnamon, and not much else, Lucien takes Freya through an extremely detailed walk through of how to properly bake gingerbread cookies, claiming that no girlfriend of his could live with a cook as fantastic as Lucien Castle and not learn how to make at least one thing from him.
When the pack shows up to their apartment for Lucien's Ugly Christmas Sweater Party Minus Freya Because She's The Fabulous Grinch and Freya sets out her cookies and there's not a single crumb left by the end of the night, she sends Lucien a naughty smile, and Kol groans out, "Oh God, you guys totally did it after you made the cookies didn't you. Tell me you at least washed your hands!" because leave it to Kol to figure it out, and Lucien just laughs and claps him on the shoulder, and pulls Freya close to his side, leaving Kol to his own hyperactive imagination.