(no subject)
“It’s all in the wrist action,” Hank advised helpfully, the lewd hand movement unnecessary given that his face gave away the innuendo easily enough.
Danica’s expression remained stony and she hefted the mixing bowl onto her hip to aid the stirring process.
“Don’t poke the bear, pal.” Ray licked a thumb and forefinger and turned the page of the Tabula Rasa Times, leaning forward in his chair as he pored over its contents. “Not if you’re intending to use all of your limbs in the foreseeable future.”
“You should listen to him,” Danica said, readjusting her grip on the wooden spoon and flexing her fingers. Who the fuck knew that baking could be so painful? “He’s not as dumb as he looks this time.”
“Thank-,” Ray glanced up from his paper, disappointed in himself for being surprised. He considered saying more, but if Danica was anything like her brother, then it’d be like talking to a brick wall anyway.
“I’m right though.” Hank was already tying an apron around his waist again and hooping the loop around his neck. A naked woman appeared on the front of it. An incredibly blessed woman, he noticed. “Ray will know what I mean. Mixing ingredients uses the same basic elements of a successful handjob.”
“Why would I know-”
“One, rhythm. Two, speed. Three… Anybody?”
Hank opened the floor for suggestions.
“How is that like a handjob?” Ray asked, still lost, focussing on the bowl in Danica’s hands and imagining Asher’s- He gave his head a violent shake, eyes screwed shut. “Why are you allowed to interact with members of the public, Moody?”
“Spontaneity,” Hank finished, filling in the blank for them. “A little spontaneity goes a long way. Baking,” he gestured at Danica, reiterating his argument, “same as giving someone a handjob,” he gestured then at Ray, confident as always that his logic was watertight.
Danica lowered the bowl back to the kitchen table and reached for an egg.
Hank stepped back to let the steam escape from the oven before reaching in and pulling out a cake, perfectly risen and golden brown. He placed it on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at the other two with a touch of arrogance. “Naaaailed it.”
“Wow.” Danica cracked the egg on the side of the bowl, catching Ray’s eye for a brief second. A cake that perfect could only mean one thing. “You must be great at giving handjobs.”
Ray snorted silently with laughter, licking a thumb to turn another page. “Lew’s a lucky boy.”
[ooc: All of my pups at once! Danica and Hank are practising baking for class. Tag one, tag all, just make it clear who you want in the tag. Come join in if you want! ST/LT are <3]
Danica’s expression remained stony and she hefted the mixing bowl onto her hip to aid the stirring process.
“Don’t poke the bear, pal.” Ray licked a thumb and forefinger and turned the page of the Tabula Rasa Times, leaning forward in his chair as he pored over its contents. “Not if you’re intending to use all of your limbs in the foreseeable future.”
“You should listen to him,” Danica said, readjusting her grip on the wooden spoon and flexing her fingers. Who the fuck knew that baking could be so painful? “He’s not as dumb as he looks this time.”
“Thank-,” Ray glanced up from his paper, disappointed in himself for being surprised. He considered saying more, but if Danica was anything like her brother, then it’d be like talking to a brick wall anyway.
“I’m right though.” Hank was already tying an apron around his waist again and hooping the loop around his neck. A naked woman appeared on the front of it. An incredibly blessed woman, he noticed. “Ray will know what I mean. Mixing ingredients uses the same basic elements of a successful handjob.”
“Why would I know-”
“One, rhythm. Two, speed. Three… Anybody?”
Hank opened the floor for suggestions.
“How is that like a handjob?” Ray asked, still lost, focussing on the bowl in Danica’s hands and imagining Asher’s- He gave his head a violent shake, eyes screwed shut. “Why are you allowed to interact with members of the public, Moody?”
“Spontaneity,” Hank finished, filling in the blank for them. “A little spontaneity goes a long way. Baking,” he gestured at Danica, reiterating his argument, “same as giving someone a handjob,” he gestured then at Ray, confident as always that his logic was watertight.
Danica lowered the bowl back to the kitchen table and reached for an egg.
Hank stepped back to let the steam escape from the oven before reaching in and pulling out a cake, perfectly risen and golden brown. He placed it on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at the other two with a touch of arrogance. “Naaaailed it.”
“Wow.” Danica cracked the egg on the side of the bowl, catching Ray’s eye for a brief second. A cake that perfect could only mean one thing. “You must be great at giving handjobs.”
Ray snorted silently with laughter, licking a thumb to turn another page. “Lew’s a lucky boy.”
[ooc: All of my pups at once! Danica and Hank are practising baking for class. Tag one, tag all, just make it clear who you want in the tag. Come join in if you want! ST/LT are <3]