y’all! I wrote a thing and actually published it for the Baked Deans Flash Bang! you can read it here! (holy shit, I actually get to say that now!)
Rating: T
Word Count: ~6600
Excerpt:
He flicks the lights on in the kitchen as he pulls the door shut behind him. The light pink of the walls keeps the overhead glow from being too harsh on his eyes, and he thinks to himself that — yet again — he was right to choose the color scheme that he had for Bake My Dreams Crumb True.
And he was definitely right to choose the name he had. He gets to reference Hall & Oates every time he picks up the phone or gives out a business card. It’s fuckin’ awesome.
As he begins to move around the kitchen and gather all the ingredients and utensils he’ll need to begin his bake, he pulls out his phone and hooks it up to the surround-sound speaker system he has wired throughout the bakery, letting his “Sunday Kind Of” playlist ring out. So he’s feeling sappy, sue him. Today’s the best day of his life, he will slow dance around his bakery by himself if he wants to. He hums along to Paul Anka and wipes down a workspace on the butcher block on top of his island, noting a couple new scratches that he’ll need to keep an eye on and make sure to oil carefully so that they don’t create a problem in the wood.
Once that’s done, he moves to the espresso machine in the front of house. When he’d first bought the place and had been fixing it up, he’d known he’d wanted to have some kind of coffee option for his customers, but had honestly just planned on having a Keurig. He’d thought it would be the perfect fix to a coffee shop issue — customers would get to pick what K-Cup they wanted themselves, so they’d get exactly what they wanted each and every time.
When Cas had found out that was his plan, Dean honestly thought that it might have been the end of what was only a budding relationship at the time. Cas had looked that horrified. So, espresso machine it was.
He makes himself a couple of shots and pours them into one of his mugs, following them up with a dash of milk, and carries the mug back into the kitchen with him.
It’s time to do what he does best.
