Silence | Book 2

4-5: Pancakes

Tristan carefully measured out the ingredients for the pancakes, and he helped by doing all the actual mixing. After splattering the kitchen twice, he finally got the hang of it, but by then the batter was already done.

"Do you want to flip them?" Tristan's words made him nod immediately, excited by the prospect of looking cool while doing it. Even though he had no clue, he wanted to learn it.

A few moments later Tristan had put the pan on the heat and put a good amount of butter in. It sizzled and melted into a golden liquid. He watched as Tristan put in a ladle of the batter, and swirled it around the pan.

"Alright, come here." Tristan gestured for him to step closer, in between him and the pan. When he did so, he felt Tristan's arms wrap around him to help. Pressed tightly against him, he suddenly became very aware that Tristan was in fact taller than him. Although he tried to keep his composure, he felt his cheeks get warmer.

"What's wrong love, it's just a pancake." The whisper right beside his ear made him frown deeply, embarrassed that he enjoyed it, yet also frustrated by getting challenged. With a loud huff, he grabbed the pan to say he wasn't afraid – and he wouldn't let a whisper stop him.

"Not yet, you'll have to wait until it's no longer liquid." Tristan warned him just in time. Impatiently he glanced up, letting out a displeased little growl.

"Don't get grumpy over pancakes." A heavy kiss was planted on his cheek, but that didn't make the taunting any less annoying. Not wanting to lose, he let go of the pan and instead reached up behind him to grab Tristan's hair. Preventing him from pulling away, he leant back and left several kisses on his jaw and neck, driven by spite more than anything.

When he let go, he saw a bright blush spread across Tristan's cheeks, and he grinned widely. Pleased with himself, he grasped the pan again.

"Now is good." Tristan muttered a bit unfocused. He took his hands again, guiding him through the motion of tossing and flipping. Perhaps too eager, and letting out some of the agitation, he tossed the pancake too high. It flipped too far, slapping against the side of the pan and folding over itself.

"Hold on." Using his good hand, Tristan quickly grabbed the spatula and carefully unfolded the pancake.

While he was distracted by that, he used the opportunity to take a small bit of flour between his thumb, index and middle finger from the bag. The moment Tristan looked up again, he flicked the flour at his clothes. It dusted up just like he'd hoped, giving him a nice coating of white powder. Before Tristan had fully registered what happened, he made a run for it, darting past him behind the kitchen island.

"Really? God you're like a five year old."

In retaliation he stuck out his tongue and made a loud farting noise, knowing well enough what he was – and he was proud of it. With a shake of his head Tristan took the handle of the pan in his good hand.

"At least I know how to properly flip a pancake." With a well-practised, effortless motion he turned the pancake onto its other side.

Immediately Hibiki frowned, not wanting to show that he was impressed. He crossed his arms and looked away, but couldn't help glancing when Tristan put the finished pancake on a plate. Despite everything, he was hungry, and the flour made a good excuse to put his hands on Tristan.

Moving closer, he slowly reached out for him. Tristan watched him near, uncertain yet slightly amused by his antics. With both hands he dusted off his shoulders, trying to keep up the façade of being helpful and apologetic – but his hands soon enough patted lower and pressed harder to feel him up. Grinning widely, he made sure there was no flour left.