what do you think baking with RE boys would be like?
Also I hc Carlos as portuguese, so he's making portuguese desserts 😋
With how little time this man probably has, he is not an experienced baker in any way shape or form. He's probably burnt water at least once.
Enter you, his partner. It's something special like your birthday, valentine's day or an anniversary. Leon wants to do something nice for you. He knows you like your sweet treats, so he plans to try and bake for you.
He starts with something he thought was simple, cupcakes. Leon goes to the shop down the road and collects everything he would need: flour, eggs, milk, sugar, vanilla extract. Hell, he even got chocolate chips and sprinkles for you.
Using his phone he already has a recipe for you, one of Nigella's recipes from one of the cookbooks you like to keep in the kitchen. Everything starts off smoothly, all ingredients are weighed out to their exact measurements, he's made sure to thoroughly cream the butter and sugar together.
A little flour was spilt here and there, but it's not a complete catastrophy. Leon is even proud of himself for getting this far by himself. That is, until they go in the oven.
As soon as they want in, he had to take a phone call. Which took up too much time, ultimately ending in the cupcakes burning in the oven. He also misread the temperature and set them to gas mark 7 instead of 5..
It's only when he catches the scent of something burning does he rush to the kitchen, almost forgetting oven gloves as he yanks them out the oven. They're not burnt to a crisp, but more...well done.
He thinks about starting again, but you enter the kitchen before he can toss the burnt cupcakes into the bin. And you stop him.
"Lee, you know we don't waste food!" You scold, taking the tray to put back onto the kitchen counter for your inspection. The entire time Leon is stood by your side, cheeks covered in embarrassment by his failure.
"You made cupcakes, I didn't realise you baked."
He clears his throat, though his voice is low and quiet.
"I don't..I was making them for your birthday."
Even with the burnt baked goods, your heart just melts at the thought. He was baking for you.
"Oh Lee, that's so sweet!"
You squeal, jumping into his arms and pressing a kiss to his cheek, covered in a thin layer of flour. And Leon caught you just in time, his own heart thumping at your affections.
You turn around to look at the cupcakes. They weren't that burnt, they just needed a bit of decoration.
"Don't be silly, we can decorate them, they'll look nicer!"
Chris isn't much of a baker either, but bless his heart he tries his best. Still treats it like an op though, even if he's on leave at home.
It's your daughter's birthday, turning 2. (he still gets teary eyed at the thought of his little girl growing up too fast) So, unbeknownst to you, he plans to make a cake..A chocolate cake, any little toddlers favourite.
He leaves it until both you and her are fast asleep and tucked into bed. – both with a forehead kiss, of course. And then, he puts his plan into action.
The cake itself goes smoothly, it comes out of the oven perfectly cooked. It's texture light and fluffy. He's feeling proud of himself for accomplishing this.
Though, what doesn't go to plan is the decoration. As much as Chris tries, he isn't able to have that gentle and light touch you own. The icing ends in a mess, all over the table, some parts of the cake aren't covered and it's uneven.
He's getting frustrated, and that's when you walk in. You originally got up to go to the bathroom, but the scent of chocolate brought you to the kitchen. And there, you see your husband covered in chocolate icing and powered sugar.
"Shit– you weren't meant to see this until tomorrow." He curses, like a dear in headlights.
All you could do was let a laugh bubble up in your throat as you make your way over to come and salvage the situation.
"Didn't take you for a baker." You inspect the cake, although messy it was fixable.
You hold a half out to him, silently asking for the knife. Sheepishly, he hands it over as you get to work. And in no time, the cake looks perfect on the outside as it is inside.
The knife ends up on the counter, as you wrap your arms around Chris' torso.
"Just ask for help, if I knew you wanted to make something for our daughter I'd have helped you."
On the morning of your daughter's birthday, she was very happy to smash the cake onto the table of her highchair. Squealing in delight with chocolate covered cheeks and a gummy smile.
Mission outcome? Successful.
Carlos didn't need a special occasion to bake for you. He just did it when he wanted to surprise you with something nice.
Growing up, he always used to lend a hand cooking with his mother and grandmother. Even if he was reluctant, he'd be the one to whisk the eggs or to sieve the flour. As he grew up he came to love it. Using the hands that usually destroyed bioweapons to create something beautiful.
And on this day, Carlos knew you had been having a hard time. Your boss being too hard on you at work, giving you more overtime than necessary. You were exhausted; he could tell.
And what was he making you? Pastel de nata, his mother's recipe. He knew you were a fan, even if you didn't often ask him to make them he always saw the glint of excitement in your eyes whenever he presented a freshly made batch to you.
You were currently at work, and he was currently on baby duty with your 6 month old daughter. And believe me, this man could multitask. It was a sight to behold; this big, burly man baking with a chubby little baby nestled into the crook of his arm.
She babbled and cooed at him as she watched her father fold the pastry, almost as if she was trying to talk to him. And of course, he responded accordingly like they were having a conversation.
"No, no keep going I'm listening, bebê."
Soon the tarts were in the oven, twelve to be exact. The baby grasped at his arm, her big wide eyes looking up at him. Carlos simply bounced her in his arms, making her giggle in delight.
"Your mama's gonna love these, won't she?"
And the baby babbled back in her own reply.
When you came back from work, the scent of the baked goods filled the air. And you immediately knew what they were, getting excited as you speed walked to the kitchen after throwing your bag and keys somewhere.
And then you saw him: your husband, shirtless, setting the tarts out onto a plate with your daughter fast asleep and cradled against his chest. It almost made you want to give him another child – almost.
"Hi, honey." You greeted, coming over and planting your lips on his.
"Do I smell pastel de nata?" You ask excitedly as he guided you over to the plate he made for you.
"I made them especially for you. I know how stressed you've been at work, it's not much but I thought they'd make things better."
Things were more than better now, settled on the sofa with your husband, child and now your favourite dessert.
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