Author's Note: This short-story started out as part of the Alphabet Challenge over on the DA Fanfiction Writer's Forum. My friend, the wonderful Artzielady94, and I thought that it was a good idea to "trade" stories. She would write one for my challenge and I would write one for hers. The result of this idea is the beautiful collaboration I am proud to present to you here. It will still appear in my alphabet challenge under the letter Q but since I am so in love with this story, I decided that I wanted to post it as an independent short and part of my headcanon-series as well.
It is a follow-up to my short-story Deliverance. Credit for it solely goes to Artzielady94. It is her idea and her story.I just took the liberty to add a few things and smooth out the edges a little. I hope you guys will enjoy this piece as much as I have.
Guilty Pleasures
Sugar. Where in the void is the sugar?
Ah. There it is. Good.
He lifts the cup eyelevel and meticulously evens it with his flour-covered fingertip. Huffing approval, he then pours the sparkling granules into the bowl in front of him that holds a smooth, creamy batter and stirs carefully. A familiar smell suddenly tickles his senses, making him stop abruptly and sniff the air.
Damn, the chocolate!
He forgot it on the oven and now it is just about to burn. Thanks to his lightning-fast reflexes, he manages to snatch the soupy mixture away from fire just in time and slowly starts pouring it into his bowl. When he's done, he sets the empty container down and mixes everything together with strong, sure strokes. Eyeing the cream critically, he sticks a finger in, barely grazing the tip, just enough to get a taste.
He brings his finger to his lips and quickly darts his tongue out, licking it clean. With a confident half-smirk and a delighted mmmh, he pours the batter into two pans and puts those into the stone oven.
He starts whistling a happy, little melody as he grabs the rest of the bag of chocolate and starts chopping it merrily. It's been a while since he last felt the need to bake, something he had quite liked doing in his youth. Samuel had introduced him to it when he had been about sixteen and it had become a little guilty pleasure of his since then. He remembers the many nights he snuck into the kitchens when everyone else was asleep. He preferred it that way. No one could tease him about his fascination with something that so clearly was not manly and had his father found out, he probably never would have seen a kitchen from the inside ever again. To the day, he feels a bit embarrassed and self-conscious about it himself but that doesn't keep him from coming down here every now and then and indulging his secret, little passion.
It is relaxing. The motions make him feel at ease and the smells leave a comfortable warmth in his belly. Baking is something that, for him, conveys a sense of home, of belonging. He can forget the world around him when he's stirring a batter, can let his thoughts fly when he's measuring ingredients.
A prickling sensation in his head and on the back of his neck suddenly draws his attention away from the chocolate and to the door where he can hear the faintest sounds. Someone is watching him and he has a pretty good idea who that someone might be.
"You can come out now, little kitchen mouse."
His voice is even and his motions steady as he keeps chopping but he makes it a point not to look at her as she slips around the doorframe with a quiet chuckle for fear that she might see the blush he feels heating his cheeks and ears.
"You... bake?" she asks a little incredulously and he can hear the soft trembling in her voice that tells him she desperately tries to hold back an amused laugh. The heat in his cheeks increases tenfold and he turns away from her, pretending to be busy at the oven.
"I bake, yes. So?" he asks defiantly. "You make it sound as if that is something vulgar."
"Oh, no. No, not at all," she chuckles. Her naked feet make soft pit-pat noises on the stone floor as she slowly comes around the counter and he can't help but becoming nervous. He can feel her gazing at him with that look. He doesn't like that look. It makes him feel like an idiot most of the time because it always seems to say 'seriously?'.
"I'm just… surprised," her voice sounds so close to his ear that it almost makes him flinch and he risks a quick glance in her direction. Her eyes twinkle with mischief and she is biting at her lip to keep herself from grinning. It doesn't serve to make him feel any less self-conscious and he once more turns away with a huff, resuming his task of chopping chocolate.
"I'm sure you'd agree that it is… unusual for a man to… bake. Especially sharp, proper, cool Nathaniel Howe. I have to say I'm impressed."
Narrowing his gaze, he points his chocolate covered knife at her in an only half mock threat.
"I intended the cake to be a surprise for you but if you keep making fun of me I won't let you have any," he warns, slightly exhausted by her teasing and still very much embarrassed.
Her expression becomes gentle then as she slinks behind him and wraps her arms around his middle.
"Oh really?" she whispers, rubbing her hands down the sides of his hips. "I think I could certainly convince you to give me some, hm?"
Her lips brush against his neck and the fleeting touch makes him shiver and twists his mouth into a hesitant smile. He can never be angry at her for long and he knows her teasing is just that, teasing. It is not meant to ridicule him or make him feel miserable and he relaxes a little into her touch, trying to forget his embarrassment and just enjoy her presence. This feels entirely too good to be tainted with self-doubt.
"I'm sure you could," he relents with a growl. He has a hard time believing that this is real. Just hours ago, he has been bitter and jilted and now here he is sharing one of his favorite hobbies with his lover while she tries to seduce him… It all feels like a dream and he can't help thinking that he will be very pissed if it turns out to be just that.
If she starts slathering herself in chocolate and begging me to lick it off this is indeed a dream and she is a desire demon.
Fire settles in his lower half when she licks his earlobe and with an amused and a little strained chuckle, he reaches for the empty mixing bowl and hands her the chocolate-covered spoon.
"Lick on this for while. I can't concentrate when your doing that... you'll make me set the whole Keep on fire," he huffs.
She cocks an eyebrow at him but after a moment reluctantly abandons her doing and with a sigh hops onto the counter beside him where he has a good view of her long, shapely legs that peek out from under one of his shirts that is at least two sizes too big for her. With a smirk, she holds his gaze and brings the spoon to her lips, licking at it slowly, suggestively. He feels his mouth water slightly and it is certainly not because of the food. Suddenly she stops her torture, though, eyes becoming wider and wider in amazement.
"Maker's grace, Nate! This... is… mmh… so good…" she moans as she licks the spoon clean with obvious delight. The little sounds she gives along with that seductive sight in front of him makes it hard for him not to grab her right then and there and have his ways with her.
"I've heard that exact same phrase more than a couple times tonight already … with the exact same inflection..." he teases in a slightly hoarse voice, wriggling his eyebrows at her as he runs a finger down her exposed thigh.
"Aren't we feeling cocky today?" she huffs, swatting his hand away and sliding off the counter again. He chuckles a little when he notices the light blush that creeps into her cheeks with his words. "What are you making now? Icing?" she asks as ways of changing the topic as she leans forward with interest, sounding like a hopeful child. He decides to play along and shakes his head as he puts the almost forgotten chocolate chips in a pan.
"No... the cake itself is rich enough. This will be a glaze to put on top with fresh berries," he explains, absentmindedly starting to stir again, his mind occupied with more… interesting activities. She quietly watches for a few moments before whispering, "I love how you do this... do you know how incredibly sexy that is?"
She smiles that impish smile at him he so loves about her and it only makes the fire in his loins flare higher and he has to clear his throat and turn his gaze away to be able to concentrate on his task again.
"Especially since I am a horrid cook..." she adds with a sigh, wrinkling her nose in contempt, seemingly oblivious to his predicament.
He frowns a little at that. Her tone is light enough but he catches the slightly ashamed note in it. Thinking of it, he actually never once saw her even close to a kitchen and whenever they were on a mission, she would always have an excuse why she would be better suited for any other task but cooking dinner. He would have never thought, though, that it was due to her inability to manage a decent meal.
"Come here," he gently orders, reaching out his hand and pulling her in front of him. "You just need a little instruction. It's not as difficult as you think."
She squirms a little in his arms, shooting him an insecure, strangely vulnerable look and he places a gentle kiss on her bare neck despite the unsettling fact that her proximity makes him feel hot all over again. His only comfort is the shiver he feels running through her body with his caress. At least he is not the only one being tortured here.
"You'll be my extra hands, ok?" he softly murmurs close to her ear as he places his hands over hers and helps her adding milk, butter and a little sugar to the chocolate in the pan in front of them, showing her how to stir the mass in order to get a smooth, homogeneous cream.
When he's sure she got the hang of it, he kisses her cheek and lets go of her hands to go and retrieve the cakes from the oven. He sets them aside to let them cool, then returns to her back and sneaks his arms around her waist again, hands brushing the bottom of her breasts as he does.
He has to admit the sight of her in a kitchen stirs the family man in him, the man who wants a wife and kids and the seemingly mundane lifestyle everyone else is allowed to live. The thought makes him feel jealous and betrayed and brings a longing back to the surface he thought long since buried deep inside.
He never wanted to be a future Arl, a soldier, a Grey Warden. All these things have been forced upon him by fate and necessity and the high-flying ambitions of others. If he had ever been given the choice, he would live in a cottage somewhere in the country by now with a loving wife and children, minding his own business and breeding horses for a living.
But his life is what it is and in the end, it turned out much brighter and happier than he would have expected only a few years ago and so he banishes his gloomy thoughts way back into the farthest corner of his mind, squeezing the woman in his arms to him in gratitude and affection as he forces himself to concentrate on what she is doing with his chocolate glaze again. When he sees that it is ready, he stills her hand and smiles.
"See? You aren't horrid. Here.." He sticks his finger into the creamy paste and holds it to her lips. "Have a taste." he offers with a slightly devilish glint in his eyes. His lover grins widely as she licks her lips in a conscious effort at seduction before she slowly, achingly slowly opens her mouth, waiting for him to place his finger inside. His body lights up like a firecracker when her wet lips close around it and suck roughly, tongue grazing the sensitive tip in tiny, circular motions. A guttural noise rumbles in the back of his throat, causing her to smile and raise a knowing eyebrow at him.
"I want more," she purrs against his skin, her teeth nibbling at his finger teasingly. It is enough to make his good senses snap and with an impatient swish of his hand, he wipes the empty bowls and utensils off the counter and onto the floor with a crash. A cloud of flour puffs up as the bag smashes on the stone but he couldn't care less. Things are about to get much dirtier anyways.