Some Like it Hot (1959)
The horrifying moment when you look around for an adult and realize you are one.
I need adultier adult
#I NEED A BETTER ADULT
AN ADULT WHO CAN SUCCESSFULLY ADULT
Rest in peace Wild Bill (28/4/1923 - 9/3/2014)! A hero in every sense of the word.
twinkling-toews asked: Bergy/Ference bakery AU!
"Here, try this."
Patrice doesn’t even look up, just opens his mouth and waits for the cookie or cake or muffin or whatever Andrew is experimenting with today to be pushed in. He closes his lips around Andrew’s fingers on purpose when he feels the - oh, fudge brownie - land on his tongue, licking away the last of the chocolate from Andrew’s fingertips before he pulls them out with a chuckle.
"Mmm, s’good," Patrice says, mouth still full. He does look up now, smiling at the way Andrew is watching him, a dusting of flour over his shirt and forearms. He pushes back from the counter where he’s been writing out the specials for tomorrow’s brunch menu and reaches out to pull Andrew down into his lap. "New recipe?"
Andrew nods, wrapping one arm around Patrice’s shoulders to keep himself steady while he reaches out for the other piece left on the plate Patrice didn’t even notice being put down on the counter. ”Yep,” he says, holding it out for Patrice to take another bite. It’s soft and delicious and melting on his tongue. ”How’s the menu looking?”
Patrice motions towards it, then dabs at the crumbs on the plate. ”It’s done. Are these for tomorrow?”
"No, just for you," Andrew says, kissing his temple before getting to his feet. "Ready to close up?"
Patrice nods and gets up as well, taking the blackboard and hanging it on the wall ready for the morning. He takes a moment to look around their little cafe, the silverware cleaned and waiting, shining in the lamp light on each table, the napkins are folded, the chairs stacked away. He listens to Andrew shutting things down in the kitchen, the lights clicking off one by one, until everything is dark and the only sounds are the fridges humming quietly. It’s already late, and Andrew will be back at 5am to start baking the bread for the day, but Patrice doesn’t feel the need to rush.
"All set?" he asks when Andrew makes his way to the door where Patrice is waiting, keys in hand.
"Yep," Andrew says, clean of flour now but still smelling like freshly baked pastries. "I think someone promised me dinner."
"Hmm, maybe," Patrice says as they get outside. They work together to pull the shutter down, well practiced by now. "We’ve certainly got dessert covered."
Believe me, I don’t wanna end up the way everyone else said I would:dead or alone or a loser.
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