Sunshine Scones
Title: Sunshine Scones
Pairing: Jongdae//Tao
Rating: PG
Warnings: slight supernatural elements?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, written just for fun.
Summary: Magical TaoChen, for who babygunsho wanted wizards but got...delicious baked things instead.
He’d promised, after all, that they’d have scones for breakfast. So that’s what he made, even though that meant waking up an hour earlier, two before the sun would raise its head, to scavenge for cream at the market.
He left Tao’s motionless form on the bed, sleeping under the wings of the blanket. He tucked the corners of the down in around his chin and couldn’t resist a brush of his lips against the soft pulse at Tao’s temple, breath trapped in his throat to ensure the other wouldn’t rouse. A single rose petal dropped from the corner of Tao’s eye onto the bedlinens as Jongdae backed out the door. It bloomed there on the sleep worn linen for a moment, deep red and plush as the velvet of the midnight sky they fell asleep under. Jongdae latched the door with careful fingers, the flower of his kiss threading a melody of protection around the cabin that would bind firm until his return.
The path down the mountain was slick with fallen leaves blackened in the midnight rain. Jongdae twined the tails of his scarf at the points of his collarbones and shoved the twisted bundle into opening of his shirt. The laces at the yoke had loosened during sleep and he tightened those as well, opening his mouth in a gasping yawn to let in the dew soaked freshness of new day.
Daybreak was his favorite hour, the way the sky smelled like butter when the first fingers of yellow streaked the expanse, new and rich. His favorite spot to watch the sun wake up was fitted between two jutting peaks of granite at the top of the ridge, the toothless jaws of an old ruin stripped down to its bones by the rain and the years. Today, though, Jongdae wanted to watch the first rays of morning bathe the contours of his favorite face. The sweetest luxury was greeting the dawn to the tune of Tao soft hums, the warmth of Tao’s back soaking into his chest with every shared heartbeat, every whispered breath.
Morning could be the loneliest time of all, but not when Joongdae had someone to invade his kitchen with sleepy yawns and wayward fingers sneaking crumbles of the half formed dough in his mixing bowl. With that in mind, Jongdae picked up his speed and made it down to the village just as the awnings were unfurling over the stalls lining the cobbled road.
He bought cream from an old woman wrapped in a smoky cloak, dropping a few coins into the crock at her feet. She raised the hood pulled over her hair to thank him with a toothless smile. The fibers of the wool, still rich with lanolin to keep off the dew, already gleamed in the halflight of the brightening sky.
Jongdae skirted the square to find the shortcut up the face of the mountain. He whistled a greeting to the birds overhead as he trotted up the steep path that led to the kitchen. Panting for breath, he wiped the loam from his feet as he entered and swung the cauldron of spring water over the low flame banked on the hearth.
Flour bloomed in a cloud above the wooden mixing bowl as he sifted it in. Then salt tinged a rosy pink with minerals, and dark sugar, both coarse between his fingers. Jongdae scattered in a handful of currants, green amber and dark wine stars glowing against the pale dough. Both he and Tao preferred blueberries, but it would still be weeks before the tiny green berries on the bushes up the slopes ripened into sweetness.
Just as he was placing the wedges of dough in the bottom of the dutch oven a pair of arms sluggish with sleep and still warm from the covers encircled his waist.
“Good morning,” Jongdae whispered. His poker nudged the pot’s iron legs further into the fire to warm themselves among the red embers.
Tao mumbled a sleepy hello against the curve of Jongdae’s neck, toying with the undone laces still hanging at the front of his shirt. “Tea?” was all Jongdae could make out, and his laugh blew petals from Tao’s messy hair as he turned to kiss his cheek, the cherry white petals drifting out through the open window to dust the waking sky the faintest, finest pink.
“Yes, tea,” Jongdae nodded, reaching up to run his fingers through Tao’s thick, inky hair. His touch didn’t straighten the collick in back, but the tousled strands softened into waves, dripping more spring blush onto the tanned leather of Jongdae’s leggings.
Jongdae brushed the petals from his thighs, the blossoms warm against his fingers and melting at the touch. Tao withdrew his arms with a reluctant hum to fetch the trenchers from the cupboard. He lined them on the rough hewn table pushed against the open window, not across from each other but side by side, the rims kissing in the shadows cast by the swinging shutters.
Tao leaned over the sill to fasten the shutters against the front of the cabin as Jongdae poured a scalding waterfall into the teapot warming on the block. The kiss of jasmine freshened the air as soon as he plunged the steeper into the earthen pot. The spout balanced against his palm continued to spill the sweet fragrance across the room as he carried it to the table.
“I’m hungry,” Tao whispered, his words the smooth plash of dew falling from magnolia buds into the leaf of Jongdae’s ear.
“It’s almost ready.” Jongdae swung a leg over to straddle the bench and slipped his arms snug around Tao’s middle.
Tao settled into Jongdae’s embrace, his sigh of contentment tinging the air with the faint scent of dark caramel and fresh cream. Jongdae hugged him closer and smiled against his shoulder at the thought of hot scones releasing tendrils of spicy steam when Tao dunked them in a bath of clean yellow cream. He pressed his ear into the curve of Tao’s shoulder to better hear the lilting melody he was humming.
“Good morning,” Tao answered, linking their fingers together in the fading shadows as they waited for the sunrise.
Pairing: Jongdae//Tao
Rating: PG
Warnings: slight supernatural elements?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, written just for fun.
Summary: Magical TaoChen, for who babygunsho wanted wizards but got...delicious baked things instead.
He’d promised, after all, that they’d have scones for breakfast. So that’s what he made, even though that meant waking up an hour earlier, two before the sun would raise its head, to scavenge for cream at the market.
He left Tao’s motionless form on the bed, sleeping under the wings of the blanket. He tucked the corners of the down in around his chin and couldn’t resist a brush of his lips against the soft pulse at Tao’s temple, breath trapped in his throat to ensure the other wouldn’t rouse. A single rose petal dropped from the corner of Tao’s eye onto the bedlinens as Jongdae backed out the door. It bloomed there on the sleep worn linen for a moment, deep red and plush as the velvet of the midnight sky they fell asleep under. Jongdae latched the door with careful fingers, the flower of his kiss threading a melody of protection around the cabin that would bind firm until his return.
The path down the mountain was slick with fallen leaves blackened in the midnight rain. Jongdae twined the tails of his scarf at the points of his collarbones and shoved the twisted bundle into opening of his shirt. The laces at the yoke had loosened during sleep and he tightened those as well, opening his mouth in a gasping yawn to let in the dew soaked freshness of new day.
Daybreak was his favorite hour, the way the sky smelled like butter when the first fingers of yellow streaked the expanse, new and rich. His favorite spot to watch the sun wake up was fitted between two jutting peaks of granite at the top of the ridge, the toothless jaws of an old ruin stripped down to its bones by the rain and the years. Today, though, Jongdae wanted to watch the first rays of morning bathe the contours of his favorite face. The sweetest luxury was greeting the dawn to the tune of Tao soft hums, the warmth of Tao’s back soaking into his chest with every shared heartbeat, every whispered breath.
Morning could be the loneliest time of all, but not when Joongdae had someone to invade his kitchen with sleepy yawns and wayward fingers sneaking crumbles of the half formed dough in his mixing bowl. With that in mind, Jongdae picked up his speed and made it down to the village just as the awnings were unfurling over the stalls lining the cobbled road.
He bought cream from an old woman wrapped in a smoky cloak, dropping a few coins into the crock at her feet. She raised the hood pulled over her hair to thank him with a toothless smile. The fibers of the wool, still rich with lanolin to keep off the dew, already gleamed in the halflight of the brightening sky.
Jongdae skirted the square to find the shortcut up the face of the mountain. He whistled a greeting to the birds overhead as he trotted up the steep path that led to the kitchen. Panting for breath, he wiped the loam from his feet as he entered and swung the cauldron of spring water over the low flame banked on the hearth.
Flour bloomed in a cloud above the wooden mixing bowl as he sifted it in. Then salt tinged a rosy pink with minerals, and dark sugar, both coarse between his fingers. Jongdae scattered in a handful of currants, green amber and dark wine stars glowing against the pale dough. Both he and Tao preferred blueberries, but it would still be weeks before the tiny green berries on the bushes up the slopes ripened into sweetness.
Just as he was placing the wedges of dough in the bottom of the dutch oven a pair of arms sluggish with sleep and still warm from the covers encircled his waist.
“Good morning,” Jongdae whispered. His poker nudged the pot’s iron legs further into the fire to warm themselves among the red embers.
Tao mumbled a sleepy hello against the curve of Jongdae’s neck, toying with the undone laces still hanging at the front of his shirt. “Tea?” was all Jongdae could make out, and his laugh blew petals from Tao’s messy hair as he turned to kiss his cheek, the cherry white petals drifting out through the open window to dust the waking sky the faintest, finest pink.
“Yes, tea,” Jongdae nodded, reaching up to run his fingers through Tao’s thick, inky hair. His touch didn’t straighten the collick in back, but the tousled strands softened into waves, dripping more spring blush onto the tanned leather of Jongdae’s leggings.
Jongdae brushed the petals from his thighs, the blossoms warm against his fingers and melting at the touch. Tao withdrew his arms with a reluctant hum to fetch the trenchers from the cupboard. He lined them on the rough hewn table pushed against the open window, not across from each other but side by side, the rims kissing in the shadows cast by the swinging shutters.
Tao leaned over the sill to fasten the shutters against the front of the cabin as Jongdae poured a scalding waterfall into the teapot warming on the block. The kiss of jasmine freshened the air as soon as he plunged the steeper into the earthen pot. The spout balanced against his palm continued to spill the sweet fragrance across the room as he carried it to the table.
“I’m hungry,” Tao whispered, his words the smooth plash of dew falling from magnolia buds into the leaf of Jongdae’s ear.
“It’s almost ready.” Jongdae swung a leg over to straddle the bench and slipped his arms snug around Tao’s middle.
Tao settled into Jongdae’s embrace, his sigh of contentment tinging the air with the faint scent of dark caramel and fresh cream. Jongdae hugged him closer and smiled against his shoulder at the thought of hot scones releasing tendrils of spicy steam when Tao dunked them in a bath of clean yellow cream. He pressed his ear into the curve of Tao’s shoulder to better hear the lilting melody he was humming.
“Good morning,” Tao answered, linking their fingers together in the fading shadows as they waited for the sunrise.