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Roman snuck along the upper border of the top cabinets, sticking close to the wall as he stayed quiet. Below him, the sound of the mixing bowl was sure to drown out any of the ruckus he might make as he crept along. He heard it pause again, and Roman froze, listening to the gentle sound of a spatula being scraped against the side of the bowl. Roman had to be cautious. After all, the last thing he wanted was to be-
“Careful up there.”
Dang it.
Roman sheepishly peered over the edge of the cabinet, knowing his cover was blown. His human friend smirked up at him, looking amused. “The human might see you.”
“Don’t mock me.” Roman huffed, knowing Virgil was teasing him about the old borrower rules. Virgil only chuckled, reaching up and grabbing Roman in his fist. Roman squirmed, feeling some of the leftover batter on Virgil’s hand cover his clothes. “Woah! A warning before being picked up would be nice.”
“Eh, I thought reaching my arm up to the cabinet was a good warning.” Virgil shrugged, wiping his other hand on his black apron. “What part of ‘stay out of the kitchen’ do you not understand?”
“The ‘stay out’ part.” Roman said, disappointed to see Virgil carrying him out instead of letting him off on the counter. “Come on, why can’t I stay and bake with you?”
“It’s dangerous.” Virgil answered automatically.
“Well that’s never stopped you before.” Roman squinted. “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“I guess Logan’s lectures are just wearing off on me.” Virgil’s answer seemed more like a dodge than a true explanation. “Besides, why do you even want to bake with me? It’s not like you do anything.”
“Blasphemy!” Roman put a hand to his chest, putting on a dramatically shocked expression. “I have excellent taste testing abilities.”
“Glad to know you’re still a freeloader.” Virgil rolled his eyes. Roman couldn’t argue with that- once a borrower, always a borrower, he supposed.
“Can’t I just have a little bit?” Roman whined.
“Sure.” Virgil’s easy agreement was surprising, until Roman realized his plan. The human reached up, grabbing a glob of frosting stuck to his apron and holding it tauntingly above the borrower’s head.
“I take it back!” Roman threw his arms up to protect his hair, but Virgil just smeared it on his arms instead. “Augh, you’re disgusting.” Roman cringed, trying to shake the sticky red paste off of him. Virgil just laughed.
“There, that should keep you occupied.” Virgil took a detour to the bathroom, setting Roman down near the sink. “By the time you’re finished washing up I might even be done.”
“This is treason!” Roman yelled at the retreating human. At least Virgil had been merciful enough to turn the tap on before leaving. Roman walked over near the faucet and stuck his arms out, being careful to wet his arms and not his shirt all the while muttering a few choice nicknames he had in mind for his human roommate.
When Roman finally deemed his arms ‘clean’ (although they still looked a tinge red, likely a side effect of the food coloring), he pulled out his hook to climb down from the counter. The water made his hands a bit slick so Roman fell faster than intended, catching himself before he got hurt on the landing.
“Making me walk back by myself, unbelievable.” Roman muttered, beginning the long trek back to the kitchen. Today was a strange day; it was the first where Virgil had told Roman to stay away while he was baking, which of course only made Roman want to get closer. Why wouldn’t Virgil let him help? They were best friends, and friends weren’t supposed to keep secrets.
“Stupid frosting tip…” Roman listened in, hearing an irritated Virgil struggling with something as the floor transitioned between the hardwood of the living room and the tiling of the kitchen.
“Am I allowed to be here now, or is my hair still at risk?” Roman called up, strolling closer. Virgil looked down, a yellow bag of frosting in hand. Covering his hands, actually. It seemed a bit of mess as though the process weren’t going well.
Virgil glanced back at his creation and sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Well that sounds promising.” Roman’s eyes widened, quickly taking a few steps back when Virgil reached down for him. “HEY HEY HEY! Wash your hands, storm cloud! I am not taking a second bath.”
“Oh, right.” Virgil sheepishly put down the frosting, going to scrub off his own arms with soap and water. Deciding he didn’t want to wait any longer, Roman pulled out his hook and climbed up to see what Virgil had made himself.
Roman looked down at it. It seemed Virgil had made cupcakes, but here he had sliced it so that the cupcake was only the thin rounded top. It was then decorated red as a background, and a big yellow…something was in the center.
“An R.” Virgil explained, coming up behind him. “It’s supposed to be an R.”
“Oh, an R.” Roman nodded, still not exactly understanding what was happening. “And that’s because…?”
“R for Roman.” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s stupid… it’s supposed to be a birthday cake.”
Roman blinked, having almost forgotten it was his birthday. Of course, Patton had come to visit him, but truly birthdays were not as common for borrowers to celebrate because often…well frankly, there wasn’t much to celebrate.
“You made me a birthday cake?” Roman said softly, looking at the creation with new eyes. The borrower was truly touched. He had never had a birthday cake just for him before.
“I know borrower birthdays aren’t really a thing.” Virgil spoke hurriedly, his nerves betraying him. “But Patton told me when it was and then I wanted to do something and I couldn’t come up with anything and then this happened and-“
“Virgil.” Roman cut him off, his eyes crinkling with joy as he smiled up at the human. “You are absolutely adorable.”
Virgil shifted, a blush appearing on his cheeks. “No m’not.”
“I love it.” Roman grinned. “It’s perfect, thank you.”