"Just trust me, I've done this a million times." Nikolai reassured his friend as he whipped up the cake batter. Today was their friend's birthday and the two of them had kinda gotten caught up in a pickle.
They forgot to get a gift.
The kitchen was already a disaster to begin with. Flour was all over the countertop and remnants of cracked eggs were on the tile. Takeo watched on in horror, trying not to cringe at the mess they – no he would have to clean up.
"Nikolai, do you realize how un-kept this kitchen looks?" Takeo muttered, ripping a paper towel off the roll. He knelt down and tried to wipe up the yolk by the Russian's foot.
"All will be well, Takeo." Nikolai gently tapped the edge of the mixing bowl to get the remainder of the batter off the spoon. "I am expert baker."
Somehow, Takeo did not believe this.
"Would you mind turning the oven on for me, Tak?" Nikolai asked. He glanced down at his shirt and groaned. "Shit. Batter on my favorite shirt."
Takeo cranked the oven up to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and stepped over to the fridge, grabbing the half-empty gallon of green tea. As he poured himself a glass, he caught Nikolai going over the instructions on the back of the cake mix box over and over again.
"Do you have the pan?" Takeo asked, interrupting Nikolai's deep thought. Before the other man could even respond, he knelt down and grabbed the cake pan from the slot under the oven. He set it down in front of the bewildered Russian who had just realized what happened.
"Oh right! That!" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Cannot bake cake without pan. Would look weird, da?"
Takeo chuckled. "Yes. In fact, I do not think our friend would be able to fully appreciate your…" He paused for a moment and cleared his throat, "baked masterpiece if it were any other way."
Moments later, the oven dinged, indicating that the needed temperature had been reached. Nikolai grinned and eagerly poured the batter into the pan as Takeo watched silently. The Russian slipped his oven mitts on and practically danced over to the oven before slipping the pan in carefully.
"Voila!" He kissed the tips of his fingers, almost like that of a stereotypical French chef.
"Make sure you keep an eye on the cake, Nik." Takeo warned stepping out of the kitchen. "We do not want any accidents…" He muttered that last bit under his breath.
About an hour later
Takeo had dozed off in his chair while he picked up where he left off in the most recent novel he had been reading. His head had lulled to the side and the book sat partially open on the edge of his knee. A strong smell woke him from his slumber and he lingered in his seat for a moment.
Something smelled charred.
His heart sunk and he bolted up from his chair just as the fire alarm started wailing. He cursed in Japanese, knowing damn well that his friend had forgotten to check the oven.
"Nikolai!" He called out, dashing for the kitchen. He threw on the oven mitts and flung the oven door open, smoke rising up to meet his face. He sputtered as he pulled the cake out in one last desperate attempt to save the poor pastry. The pan was so warm that he could feel it through the mitts and he dropped it on the stove surface.
"Wh-What happened?!" Nikolai asked as he slid into the kitchen. He looked up to see a disheveled Takeo leaning against the counter and the cake still letting off a bit of smoke."We order cake don't we…?"
Takeo raised his index finger and let out a loud sigh. "Yes. Yes we do…"