Something Sweet
Author's Note: Enjoy the story and R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of Sweet Reincarnation.
Pairing: Pas x Marc.
Summary:
All the bonka pie eaten up, Pas doesn't want Marc to go without having his fill of something sweet.
"Pas! Why didn't you say anything? Lumi and Otosan…Th-they're really…" Marc stuttered. "THEY THINK LUMI'S GONNA BE MY W-WIFE!"
The reason Pas reserved comment was simple: Pas thought it was sweet.
His bonka pie was a big success. Laughs and smiles apportioned around the room, even if Marc wasn't necessarily laughing or smiling after Glacage stomped in. His "lieutenant" was blushing and steam was whistling out of his ears, Pas had to jokingly check whether Marc had kettles behind them.
Obviously, Pas knew where Marc was coming from. For Glacage to pronounce out of nowhere that Marc would marry his tomboy of a daughter some day (and for Lumi to just say she was fine with it)…The notion was as surprising as the surprisingly sour bonkas in honey Pas offered his friends!
But unbeknownst to either Lumi or her father, there was a small, not insignificant problem Marc's stuttering covered up.
Pas giggled to himself. That'd also been sweet. Marc was blushing then too, the morning he shouted "I like you!" to his face. Come to think of it, Marc'd been stuttering right before he shouted that too!
Pas' initial feeling when Marc came to him with this information…was gâteau au chocolat.
Seriously though, prior to his reincarnation, the Pâtissier Chosen One engaged in relationships with men and women. No hurdle there. But while Pas was physically nine years old, his occupational suite of skills was ahead of his present number of years. Was it ethically responsible to…?
He was nine years old. To his new parents and sisters, he was nine years old. To everybody short of she who sent him here, he was nine years old. To himself, he was nine years old.
He just had the benefit of a pre-installed knowledge base.
With sugar such a luxury in this world, he couldn't pass up something sweet. Marc was being sweet to him, so Pas wished to be sweet back.
Marc's orange hair reminded Pas a great deal of the orange feathers he dedicated painstaking attention to on his candy sculpture, the second and last day of the Coupe du Monde de la Pâtisserie.
Crushed by his own creation. Sweet irony. The saying "sweet kiss of death" achieved relevance that day.
Pas excused himself and Marc, pulling Marc by the arm into the kitchen.
He hadn't given Marc a reply previously. He'd give him a reply now.
A sappy, syrupy, sugary sweet reply on the cheek.
"Pas, you…You –!"
Sweeter than a dream.
Sweeter than Pas' dream of creating a land of sweets.