Sweet Temptations - 6. Chapter 6 - Shiro

“Babe! Come on, it’s starting!” Shiro settles himself further back into the corner of their deep couch, one leg bent along the back cushions, the other foot resting on the floor. He double taps the cushion between his thighs just as there is a clatter from the kitchen. “Everything OK?”

“Fine!”

Shiro recognises that clipped tone, the one that says ‘something has gone wrong right at the last second and I need to concentrate in order to fix it, so I love you but please shut up’ and says nothing. He takes a swig of his cider – light, local, kind of fruity and sweet in that way the man he loves enjoys – and dials the volume up on the television just as the familiar music swells, heralding gingham, green lawns, a white marquee, and patriotic bunting. It’s the final episode, Coran and Kolivan are telling them as much from the screen, but Shiro’s attention wanders to the doorway where Keith is walking in, dressed is one of Shiro’s enormously oversized hoodies and apparently nothing else from where Shiro is sitting, carrying a plate of very familiar pastry rolls.

“Is that-?”

“Yep.” Keith pops the end of the syllable as he settles himself in his favourite spot between Shiro’s legs, shoulders warm and hard against Shiro’s chest. “Hunk gave me the recipe.”

“Thank you, Hunk.” Shiro grins as he loops an arm around Keith’s tiny waist, using the motion to filch a mackerel and coconut not-sausage roll before splaying his other hand low over Keith’s abdomen, pinning him softly in place. “And thank you Keith.”

“You’re welcome. Are they as good as Hunk’s ones?”

“I’m sure they are, baby. Hush now, you’re gonna miss it.”

Keith snorts in derision.

“We know what happens, Takashi. It’s hardly a surprise.”

It still makes Shiro shiver all the way down to his tail-bone every single time Keith uses his given name.

They hosted a watch party for the first episode, with as many of them as were still in the country, including Kolivan and Coran, packed into their living room, each bringing baked offerings to compliment the alcohol selections Coran had insisted on providing. Watching himself on screen surrounded by such a group of friends had been equally wonderful and hilariously uncomfortable. There had been squeals of voyeuristic delight as he and Keith had laid eyes on each other on screen for the first time.

Each week they have sat together and watched as the show on screen has become less and less about the baking, and more and more about catching the lingering glances between the pair of them. From week five onward, all the side interviews and bits-to-camera which made it off the cutting room floor have had some element of support or speculation about their relationship.

Shiro eats his pastry, and watches himself judging the signature challenge on screen.

“Thace sent us a photo.”

“Oh?”

Keith shows him over his shoulder, half twisting in Shiro’s lap. Ulaz’s husband has quite clearly been usurped, and is sat on the floor with their enormous wolfhound, whilst Ulaz and Lotor have claimed the sofa, both gazing enraptured at their television.

“He says he’s sure that space on the couch used to be his before they adopted Lotor.”

Shiro chuckles, and squeezes Keith tightly in his lap.

“I’m glad he has them to support him. Professional patisserie school is hard.”

“He spent the whole of last week stretching filo pastry out to the size of his bed.” Shiro can feel Keith roll his eyes. “He’s such a perfectionist.”

“Says the man who re-made an entire batch of cinnamon buns because they weren’t quite spiralled enough.”

“Remind me why I love you again?”

Shiro chuckles.

“I have really nice abs?”

“Mmm… Keith rolls over onto his front, and Shiro’s breath catches as he finds himself the focus of that galaxy-eyed gaze. Keith sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and the wet release of shiny flesh has Shiro blushing hard. “You do,” he agrees, “and a really pretty bottom.”

“Keith…”

Keith grins like a cat.

“I love that I can still make you blush.”

Keith remains pillowed on his chest as they watch the show. Somewhere between the technical and the baker-family interviews, Shiro’s phone pings enough times for him to glance at the screen.

“Texts from Lance,” he explains, scrolling down the many messages and the pictures attached. “We’re trending on twitter again.”

Keith snorts.

“I never figured we’d end up with our own palindrome. What’s the hashtag this week?”

“#KeithsCuteBlushes.”

“Ergh.”

“What?” Shiro lifts Keith’s chin with a curled metal and polymer knuckle. “I think you have an incredibly cute blush.”

“You’re biased,” Keith reminds him, as though that matters at this stage. “Did anyone notice that all my ‘family’ interviews are actually from the other bakers?”

Shiro checks his phone. He doesn’t go on social media himself any more, but Lance has actually been a godsend in that regard; keeping them both assailed of the latest updates, and fiercely fighting their corner whenever people begin casting their aspersions too loudly.

“Some, Lance is in your corner though. He still takes his job as your rival very seriously.”

“Just because he couldn’t get #Allurance trending,” Keith scoffs fondly. “Oh look, you’re gonna cut the cake.”

Shiro knows Keith is watching him closely as he watches himself on screen, cutting Keith’s chilli and chocolate cake to reveal the love heart in the centre. The shock on his face is as obvious to him as the heated press of his anatomy pinned between their bodies. When he glances back at Keith, he looks impossibly fond.

“And do you still love me?”

“Keith…” Shiro ducks to kiss him and Keith meets him half way, dragging their bodies together, causing delightful little moans of pleasure. “Yes, baby. I love you.”

“Mmm…” Keith kisses him again, slow and languid and deeply happy. “Tasty Takashi… I love you too.”

“Oh good.”

On screen, the crowd at the picnic goes nuts as they share their first kiss. Shiro’s phone will be on fire with missed notifications, but he doesn’t care, because the boy in his arms is everything he could ever want.

Before the credits roll, the screen goes black with white text.

Since the competition finished…

Nadia and Ryan have teamed up to travel the world and learn about baking from as many different countries as they can. There’s a shot of the pair of them laughing together in a kitchen in southern Turkey, covered in flour and holding enormous handfuls of pistachios.

Ulaz and his husband are assisting Lotor in his dreams of becoming a professional pastry chef… until he earns a Michelin star, he is kept busy feeding the group of blacksmiths who appear to have adopted him. Lotor looks happy and focused his video clip, and he has a mug of coffee held tightly in one hand whilst he offers a tray of tiny tartlets to Thace. Ulaz is shown creaming eggs and sugar together with a wooden spoon in a traditional beige ceramic mixing bowl, and Shiro knows it’s the one his grandmama gave him, because that’s just how Ulaz is.

Ina and James have set up a programme to teach baking to disadvantaged kids. The video clip shows the both of them utterly surrounded by eager faces and hands, all voice raised is excitement of making tasty treats. Kolivan helped with the connections to get them started, and it’s a good thing they’re doing.

Lance is teaching Allura how to use raising agents properly whilst they work on raising a little one of their own. And Lance has his arms wrapped around Allura, cradling her thickening belly as he whispers instructions she almost certainly doesn’t need into her ear. They are adorable. Maybe Lance will get his hashtag trending after all.

Keith and Shiro are getting married next year. It’s the clip of them kissing which plays again, overlain this time with the soft piano music of the segment.

Hunk will be catering all the desserts and breads, but Romelle won the right to make the wedding cake in an arm-wrestling match… It will still be themed for outer space, just like Shiro wanted. And there’s the entremet with the galaxy mirror glaze and the spun sugar planet. Since the episode originally aired, there have been dozens of copy-cat recipes all claiming to have perfected Keith’s dessert. In Shiro’s opinion, none of them even come close.

Keith and Romelle are setting up a bakery together, they have assured Lotor they will always serve coffee. It’s a work in progress, being finalists of the show doesn’t automatically infer success, or the successful application for business loans, but Shiro has high hopes for them.

Hunk is on a mission to bring Samoan flavours to the world… but for now, he’s going to rest. And there is Hunk, seemingly passed out on the grassy lawn, flowers and cake stand clutched to his chest, surrounded by his family.

Keith breathes a soft laugh against his lips

“Still think the best man won?”

“Who knows. But I know I won.” Shiro pulls Keith tight against his front. “And what’s for dessert, baby?”

Keith shoots a narrow-eyed glance at the screen. The credits have completed, but instead of calls for the next season, there is a message in text only.

The production team regret to inform our adoring public that there are no open applications for the next season, as the show is cancelled. Thank you for joining us on this remarkable adventure.

Shiro almost, almost, feels sorry for Sanda, who hitched herself to a format which was not repeatable without the same intentions behind it. Shiro knows there will be plenty of people who blame him, and Keith, for tanking the show. He also knows that not one of them will be getting the time of day from him, or anyone else involved in the last season.

Keith’s creeping fingertips distract him from his thoughts.

“You still want dessert, big guy?”

“What did you have in mind?” Shiro purrs. He’s not blushing now, because all his blood is being used somewhere else.

Keith gives him a soft, lopsided smile, and speaks between kisses.

“Follow me to the bedroom, pretty boy. I’mma rock your world.”

Shiro follows him up and across their little house, helpless to resist. They both spent so much time resisting each other and not touching, and as Keith squeezes his fingers and flashes up the hem of his stolen sweatshirt, Shiro holds on tighter.

He’s never letting go again.