It was a cloudy, snowy afternoon, mid-January. You were curled up on the couch in a blanket, snuggling with your boyfriend, the exorcist and occasional help to Shibuya Psychic Research, John Brown. You quietly read a book, once in a while taking a sip from your hot chocolate which otherwise sat on the coffee table. The Australian kept his mug in his hands for the most part, alternating between looking out the window at the small, white dots speckling the sky and reading over your shoulder.
It was nice, quiet and relaxing. You loved getting to spend lazy afternoons like this one with John, just curled up on the couch, neither of you saying much. You drank the last few sips of your nearly room-temperature hot chocolate before bookmarking, closing, and setting down your book, and mug. You craned your neck, looking up at John.
"Wanna do something?" You asked, letting your blanket fall from your shoulders.
"Sure, what were you thinking of doing?" The blonde asked, also finishing up his hot chocolate and setting his mug down next to yours on the coffee table.
"Well, we could bake something. It's been a while since I've had a homemade batch of chocolate-chip cookies..." You suggested. Plus, even with all the snuggling, blankets and hot chocolate, you were still feeling a little chilly, and you figured the heat from the oven and warmth of freshly-baked cookies would warm you right up!
John nodded his head. "Sounds good to me." And with that, the two of you headed for the kitchen. You dug out a cookie recipe your mother gave to you quite a while back, then proceeded to make sure you had all the necessary ingredients. You put what you needed on the counter, glad to see you had everything. You and John then got to work making the cookies.
He preheated the oven and lined cookie sheets with parchment paper as you measured out and mixed the ingredients as the recipe told you to. With John's help, it wasn't long at all until the cookies were in the oven and the kitchen was cleaned up.
"There, everything is cleaned up." You noted, looking around the nearly spotless kitchen.
"Hmm, I think we missed a spot." John said, and you raised your eyebrows, looking around the kitchen. The bowl with leftover cookie dough was sitting on the counter (the two of you planned to just save it and eat it raw), but that was all.
"Where? The kitchen looks perfectly clean to me..." You said, and John shook his head, smiling. Raising his index finger, he wiped a small chunk of cookie dough from the tip of your nose, then popped it in his mouth. He then pecked your nose where the dough previously was, causing you to giggle.
Getting an idea, you scooped up a little dough from the edge of the bowl and put it on your lips. Now John was blushing a bit. He tentatively licked the dough from your lips, then kissed you. You gladly kissed back, though, you were unable to hold back your smile.
A few minutes and small, sweet kisses later, you pulled away, interrupted by the 'ding!' of the oven's timer, letting you know the cookies were done. John walked over to it and opened the door as you pulled on oven mitts. You took the cookies out of the oven and placed the cookie sheet onto a cooling rack.
"Mm, they smell wonderful!" John said cheerfully, grabbing one form the tray, only to burn his finger on it. "Ouch!!"
Sighing, you kissed his burnt fingertip. "Better?" You asked, and he nodded, smiling a little.
"Yeah, thanks." He said, lightly kissing your forehead.
'Well,' you thought, 'we're gonna have to bake more often.'
The end.
