Midnight Flour and Birthday Wishes — Ray X Mariah

Mariah was nothing if not determined.

The night before Ray's birthday, she arrived at his place armed with grocery bags and confidence, declaring, "Tonight, I'm cooking for you." Ray blinked at her from where he sat on the couch, raising an eyebrow.

"You? Cooking?" he asked, voice laced with both amusement and mild concern. "Mariah, you set my pressure cooker on fire last time."

"That was one time," she huffed, stomping into the kitchen. "Besides, it's your birthday tomorrow, so shut up and let me spoil you."

Ray couldn't help the fond smile tugging at his lips. He knew better than to argue with Mariah when she had that stubborn glint in her eyes. Quietly, he followed her into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway to supervise.

It started simple enough—Mariah pulling out flour, eggs, and a printed recipe that looked like it had been folded and unfolded too many times. She was humming to herself, hair tied up messily in a bun, looking way too adorable for Ray's heart to handle.

But then came the chaos.

A mist of flour exploded into the air as Mariah accidentally banged the bag on the counter. "Oops," she giggled. Ray coughed, waving his hand to clear the cloud. "You sure you don't want help?" he asked, already stepping forward.

"Nope!" she replied, overly cheerful. "I've got this." She whisked the eggs so aggressively that some of it splattered onto her apron — and Ray's sleeve. "Sorry," she grinned sheepishly. Ray chuckled, grabbing a kitchen towel to wipe it off.

Half an hour later, it was a battlefield.

The counters were dusted in flour, the floor dotted with vegetable bits, and Mariah looked like a warrior mid-battle, smears of dough on her cheek and sleeves. Ray, now fully roped into the mess despite his earlier intent to just supervise, found himself stirring batter while Mariah chopped, or let's say, massacred vegetables.

"You're enjoying this way too much," Mariah narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh, I am," Ray said smoothly. "I always enjoy watching you destroy my kitchen."

"That's rich coming from someone who looks like a flour ghost." Without warning, she flicked some flour at him, dusting his already messy shirt. Ray gasped.

"Do you want me to retaliate?"

"Bring it on."

The next thing they knew, flour flew like snow, laughter filling the kitchen as they battled with spoons and flicks of batter. Ray's usually pristine kitchen was ruined, but neither of them cared. He barely noticed the chaos around them — only the way Mariah's eyes sparkled and how her laughter sounded like music.

"You're impossible," Ray said breathlessly as they both leaned against the counter, catching their breath.

"But you love me," Mariah teased, before winking playfully at Ray.

Ray grinned, stepping closer. "I really do."

And just like that, standing in the middle of the chaos, their flour-coated fingers brushed before Ray gently took her hand, squeezing it softly. Mariah's smile softened, cheeks pink (whether from the flour or something else, Ray wasn't sure).

"Okay," she said after a second. "Back to work, Mr. Birthday Boy."

Ray chuckled. "Lead the way, Chef Wong."

Even if the kitchen didn't survive, he knew his heart was already a goner.

By the time the clock was inching closer to midnight, the kitchen looked like it had been hit by a flour tornado. Pots were stacked unevenly, utensils scattered everywhere, and both Ray and Mariah looked no better. Mariah had flour streaked across her cheeks, and her hair was dusted with it like it was snowing inside the house. Ray's usual tidy ponytail was loosened, flour smudges marking his face and apron while Mariah's messy bun was undone in the chaos.

Still, the two of them were determined.

"Alright, chef," Ray said with a teasing smile, stirring the pan as Mariah read out the next step with squinted eyes, "what next? Another accident or an actual meal?"

"Watch it," Mariah huffed, giving him a playful nudge with her elbow. "I'm trying, okay?"

Ray couldn't help but grin. Honestly, he didn't even mind how disastrous it all looked. Seeing Mariah this determined — flushed cheeks, messy hair, and all — was worth every second of chaos.

They somehow managed to pull the dish together, with Ray helping her season it just right and Mariah finally getting the hang of flipping and stirring without catastrophe striking again. It wasn't perfect, but when they placed the finished plate on the table, it looked decent enough to eat.

Just as Mariah was adjusting the dish to make it look prettier, the clock struck twelve. A soft chime echoed through the apartment.

Mariah's eyes lit up as she turned to him, eyes sparkling under the soft kitchen lights. "Happy Birthday, Ray."

Ray barely got to process the words before Mariah wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a spontaneous, flour-covered kiss. It wasn't graceful at all — they both slipped slightly on the floured floor, bumping into the counter behind them. But neither of them cared. They laughed into the kiss, giggling like kids who got away with a prank.

"Birthday kiss?," Ray chuckled against her lips when they finally pulled apart.

"You'll get more if you survive my cooking," Mariah teased, grabbing the dish and marching toward the tiny dining area they'd set up earlier.

They sat, still dusted in flour and splattered ingredients, and took the first bite together. The silence that followed was heavy — but not because it was bad. It was surprisingly… good.

Ray blinked. "Wait."

Mariah grinned. "See! It is actually edible!"

"It's more than edible," Ray grinned, taking another bite. "This is good."

Mariah's face brightened with pure pride. She flipped her messy hair dramatically, striking a diva pose. "Told you so."

Ray snorted, shaking his head. "I'm never doubting you again."

They finished the food, laughing every now and then about how ridiculous they looked, and how somehow, despite all odds, Mariah had managed to pull off a proper meal. Once the plates were cleared (by Ray, because Mariah declared it was the birthday boy's job to do so this time), they turned their attention to the two disasters standing in the mirror.

"You look like you fought a flour monster and lost," Ray said, pointing at Mariah's reflection.

She rolled her eyes. "You're no better. Come on, let's clean up."

They headed to the bathroom, still giggling. In the warm glow of the bathroom light, Ray gently wiped flour off Mariah's cheeks with a soft cloth. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the chaotic energy settled into something softer.

"You're adorable," he whispered.

Mariah swatted him playfully. "Flatterer."

The cleaning process was full of giggles, small splashes of water, and tickling fingers as they tried to scrub themselves clean. Mariah stood on her toes to properly rinse flour out of Ray's hair, which only led to Ray spinning her around and making her squeal as they both laughed.

Eventually, they made it to Ray's room, both still damp from the cleaning spree. The moment their heads hit the pillows, the exhaustion of the day caught up to them. Yet, neither was ready to fall asleep just yet.

Mariah curled against Ray, her head resting comfortably on his chest. His arm wrapped securely around her, fingers tracing slow patterns on her back.

"You really did all this for me, huh?" Ray mumbled softly, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head.

"Well, yeah," Mariah replied, voice sleepy but sincere. "Happy Birthday, Ray."

Ray chuckled softly, kissing her forehead. "Best birthday ever."

Their quiet laughter eventually melted into soft whispers and even softer kisses. They shared silly little tickles, murmured secrets, and held each other tightly until sleep finally stole them away, tangled up in warmth and love.

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END

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Honestly I enjoyed writing this one very much hehe, mainly because I find Ray and Mariah adorable together... I hope y'all liked this ;) pls share your thoughts in the review