Lustful Love (a DNF smut and fluff oneshot book)

« Pumpkin Cheesecake » (FLUFF)

Started: Nov. 24
Finished: Nov. 24

Contains: well, uh, fluff- domestic relationship/slice of life eeehehehe

Words: 1589

it was supposed to be short, but i got a little carried away..

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Dream looks up from the bowl of graham crackers and butter before him. "George it's right there- you're blind!!"

"I am not blind, shut up!" With sweaty hands, George grabs the can of pumpkin purée from the shelf within the pantry. He's shuffling towards the dirty-blonde now, giggling at the scraping noise of his slippers against the tile. The can is set down next to the large bowl. "See, look! I did it!"

Dream rolls his eyes. "Wowww, you grabbed a can! I'm so proud of you," he kisses the brunettes hair softly, laughing at his own sarcasm. His hands go back to the crust mixture in front of him. His nose scrunches as some gets stuck underneath his nail. "Eugh."

George on the other hand, was sat on the left-hand corner of the kitchen island, beginning the creation of the cheesecake filling. Everything was displayed in front of him- like a shrine of confections that Rosanna Pansino would have in preparation for a video. He grabs the packages of cream cheese and meticulously opens them one by one, careful not to get any residue on his fingers. The contents drop into the large bowl. He pauses, though, as a cog freezes in his brain.

"Erm," he starts. Dream looks up from the crumbles. "How do you, uh.. use this?" He points to the bright red stand mixer beside him with a sheepish smile.

Honestly, Dream couldn't blame him for not knowing how to use it. It was one of the new models; the one with the rising arm and snap-in bowl. There were a lot of switches, and it was easy to confuse a person who wasn't used to it.

Dream smiles wide. "I'll show you." He swipes the residue off of his hands and steps over to the brunette. Their eyes meet so softly, it almost makes Dream want to pout. He places one hand on the mixer, and one hand atop George's right hand. George looks at him with a hopeful- yet oddly sad- expression. Dream looks down before he's able to crumble and kiss the Brit silly.

"What hand does the recipe call for?" Their eyes meet again.
"What? What d'you mean-" George is cut off with his own giggle.
"You're an idiot- the hand for the mixer!! Paddle or whisk?" He doesn't even bother to wait for George's response, glancing over at the poorly-printed paper and scanning his eyes over it. "Paddle, okay."

George whispers a small "I'll grab it" and pulls away from the dirty-blonde, leaving an already missed warmth in his sweater clad chest. He pulls a barstool up and sits on it, spinning lightly to stim away his impatience. George comes back soon enough with a ceramic paddle in his hand. He hands it to Dream and watches intently as he attaches it to the mixer. Dream looks back at the recipe. "Brown sugar, now. Do you want to grab that, too? One and a half cups."

George rolls his eyes. "You don't need to talk to me like I'm a child." The words drip with annoyance, but he still grabs the ring of measuring cups from the counter. He's slow as he glances back in forth between the recipe and the cups, really making sure that he's using the right measurements that he's not used to.

Dream smiles wide, slinking his hand around his waist and stuffing his face into the crook of his neck (the position was perfect with how he sat on the stool beside him). He peppers kisses all over his hair and ear, smiling wide at the brunette trying to reject them. When a particular kiss gets placed against his pulse he freezes up, a particular red growing quick against his neck and face. Dream laughs giddily.