Hey, OP! I hope you like this! I'll try to get the second part, the part where Ignis actually gets to eat it, out asap! And I hope you don't mind brief mentions of OT4. It won't get smutty, because Ignis is pissed, but... yeah.
--
Strawberries and Cream
Ignis sighed and wiped his hand across his forehead, staring down at the delicate dessert in front of him. It had taken the better part of the afternoon to make, but it was perfect. Every plump strawberry slice was perfectly sliced, red liquid turning white cream pink. The lusciously thick strawberry juice trickled from the top of the cake down the sides, and Ignis reached down to the plate and slid his leather-covered finger across. He collected it, enjoying the slippery feeling against his his gloves, before slipping it between his lips.
He couldn’t stop himself from moaning—just the perfect amount of sugar.
Ignis closed his eyes and savored in the taste before adjusting himself and looking once more down at the cake.
The cream was the perfect whipped consistency. He had taken his time with it, delicate and gentle like a lover opening themselves for the first time. When he had allowed his whisk to slip down, to beat against the side of the glass bowl, it reminded of his own first time. Soft hands, soft touches.
It definitely contrasted heavily with the travesty that was their hotel room. That fluffy white was exactly opposite of the way Noctis and Gladio had left their muddy shoes strewn across the entranceway and how Prompto had trekked in dirt. He hadn’t even bothered to take off his shoes until he was in the bathroom.
Ignis looked at the second layer of cake and how it soaked in the juice, turning to a beautiful dusty shade of pink. He had been tender with it, taking his time to place it atop the other cake, making sure to spread the strawberries and cream between the layers.
Someone in the conjoining hotel room let out a scream and then a disjointed string of expletives, but it did not break Ignis’s concentration. Not once.
Ignis turned the plate, inspecting all sides to make sure that every inch was coated and perfect, each drop of juice and spoonful of cream used with the delicate precision of a master. He was an artist, and the cake was his canvas.
His tongue would be its critic, and it was already watering in anticipation.
The strawberries he managed to find were easily some of the best money could buy outside of Insomnia—no, Duscae strawberries were Eos famous, far better quality than even Insomnia-farmed strawberries. It was in their tart yet sweet flavor, the way they grew to the size of a fist and yet just /dripped/ when he cut into it.
He added in just the lightest touch of orange zest and vanilla to the strawberries before tossing in freshly-milled white sugar. Ignis let it sit in the small fridge, having to smack away Prompto’s wandering hands when the blond tried to go for them.
Noctis had been just as bad, if not worse. Ignis had caught him with a spoon and his heavy whipped cream.
He hoped that the Prince knew the only reason he still had his left hand was because Ignis was able to throw his dagger with perfect accuracy to smack into the spoon instead of a finger or two. He loved Noctis dearly, but…
No matter, Ignis thought as he dropped the bowl into the sink, noting with a touch of anger that the bowls from the midday meal he had made for the other men sat in the soapy water— untouched.
He shook his head and looked back down at his perfectly made cake.
“Hey, Iggy! What’s for dinner?” Gladio yelled from the other room, and Ignis tched.
“Did you set up the table for our supper?” Ignis responded.
Another set of expletives and something crashed. Probably Prompto.
“Uh, no?” That was Noctis.
“Please do so.”
“Fine, fine,” Prompto yelled. “Just gimme a sec!”
Ignis sighed and looked at his cake lovingly, caressing the edge of the plate before reaching into the grocery bag of food, pulling out three Cup Noodles.
He made quick work of boiling the water, thankful for the magic he had learned to control so easily heated the metal. He opened the three containers and filled them with water, turning to look at what had become their kitchen table over the last several days.
Plates, a half-eaten bag of potato chips, open bottles of half-drunk cola and energy drinks, an assortment of electronic chargers. One of Gladio’s romance novels sat dog-eared in the corner.
Ignis slapped down the three cup noodles where there was space and cleared his side of the table. He turned to return to the small kitchen when the boys trudged in.
“Hey, Iggy, no dinner?” Noctis asked.
“Your supper is on the table, Ignis replied tartly, looking for the plastic forks.
“Cup Noodle?”
“Hey, don’t diss the Cup Noodles, Prom. What’d you add to them tonight?”
Ignis ruffled through the grocery bag before finding the box of cutlery. He turned and tossed them onto the table, hearing them hit the table with the thump of finality. “Nothing.”
Ignis crossed his hands and looked at his three lover, daring them to say anything.
“Uh,” Prompto said after a minute, smiling eagerly as he eyed Ignis’s cake. “it’s okay, Iggy. You were busy making that cake, right? It looks good! I can’t wait to try it. Your cakes are like /the/ best.”
Noctis scratched the back of his head. “Well, I definitely can get behind some cake—”
Ignis sent them a /look/ which made Noctis’s words die on his lips.
Ignis turned and grabbed the cake plate and a sturdy metal fork and knife and made his way to the table. He sat down in his decluttered area and placed the plate and utensils down, looking each of them in the eye.
Gladio gulped.
Good.
Ignis stared at Gladio, then down to the chair on his left. He then looked at Noctis, who took the seat on his right. Prompto took the seat across from him.
“I… I don’t think we’re going to be getting any cake tonight,” Prompto whispered in terror as he dragged his seat backward, the sound of metal on tile making throwing the room into distorted noise.
“I believe you are quite right, Prompto,” Ignis icily replied as he sat himself into his own chair and pulled off each glove, slapping them against the table top. "This is /my/ supper."
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timeasmymeasure
Fill: Strawberries and Cream 1/2? Re: Gen or Ignis/Any, Revenge Cake
Date: 2017-03-09 03:19 pm (UTC)--
Strawberries and Cream
Ignis sighed and wiped his hand across his forehead, staring down at the delicate dessert in front of him. It had taken the better part of the afternoon to make, but it was perfect. Every plump strawberry slice was perfectly sliced, red liquid turning white cream pink. The lusciously thick strawberry juice trickled from the top of the cake down the sides, and Ignis reached down to the plate and slid his leather-covered finger across. He collected it, enjoying the slippery feeling against his his gloves, before slipping it between his lips.
He couldn’t stop himself from moaning—just the perfect amount of sugar.
Ignis closed his eyes and savored in the taste before adjusting himself and looking once more down at the cake.
The cream was the perfect whipped consistency. He had taken his time with it, delicate and gentle like a lover opening themselves for the first time. When he had allowed his whisk to slip down, to beat against the side of the glass bowl, it reminded of his own first time. Soft hands, soft touches.
It definitely contrasted heavily with the travesty that was their hotel room. That fluffy white was exactly opposite of the way Noctis and Gladio had left their muddy shoes strewn across the entranceway and how Prompto had trekked in dirt. He hadn’t even bothered to take off his shoes until he was in the bathroom.
Ignis looked at the second layer of cake and how it soaked in the juice, turning to a beautiful dusty shade of pink. He had been tender with it, taking his time to place it atop the other cake, making sure to spread the strawberries and cream between the layers.
Someone in the conjoining hotel room let out a scream and then a disjointed string of expletives, but it did not break Ignis’s concentration. Not once.
Ignis turned the plate, inspecting all sides to make sure that every inch was coated and perfect, each drop of juice and spoonful of cream used with the delicate precision of a master. He was an artist, and the cake was his canvas.
His tongue would be its critic, and it was already watering in anticipation.
The strawberries he managed to find were easily some of the best money could buy outside of Insomnia—no, Duscae strawberries were Eos famous, far better quality than even Insomnia-farmed strawberries. It was in their tart yet sweet flavor, the way they grew to the size of a fist and yet just /dripped/ when he cut into it.
He added in just the lightest touch of orange zest and vanilla to the strawberries before tossing in freshly-milled white sugar. Ignis let it sit in the small fridge, having to smack away Prompto’s wandering hands when the blond tried to go for them.
Noctis had been just as bad, if not worse. Ignis had caught him with a spoon and his heavy whipped cream.
He hoped that the Prince knew the only reason he still had his left hand was because Ignis was able to throw his dagger with perfect accuracy to smack into the spoon instead of a finger or two. He loved Noctis dearly, but…
No matter, Ignis thought as he dropped the bowl into the sink, noting with a touch of anger that the bowls from the midday meal he had made for the other men sat in the soapy water— untouched.
He shook his head and looked back down at his perfectly made cake.
“Hey, Iggy! What’s for dinner?” Gladio yelled from the other room, and Ignis tched.
“Did you set up the table for our supper?” Ignis responded.
Another set of expletives and something crashed. Probably Prompto.
“Uh, no?” That was Noctis.
“Please do so.”
“Fine, fine,” Prompto yelled. “Just gimme a sec!”
Ignis sighed and looked at his cake lovingly, caressing the edge of the plate before reaching into the grocery bag of food, pulling out three Cup Noodles.
He made quick work of boiling the water, thankful for the magic he had learned to control so easily heated the metal. He opened the three containers and filled them with water, turning to look at what had become their kitchen table over the last several days.
Plates, a half-eaten bag of potato chips, open bottles of half-drunk cola and energy drinks, an assortment of electronic chargers. One of Gladio’s romance novels sat dog-eared in the corner.
Ignis slapped down the three cup noodles where there was space and cleared his side of the table. He turned to return to the small kitchen when the boys trudged in.
“Hey, Iggy, no dinner?” Noctis asked.
“Your supper is on the table, Ignis replied tartly, looking for the plastic forks.
“Cup Noodle?”
“Hey, don’t diss the Cup Noodles, Prom. What’d you add to them tonight?”
Ignis ruffled through the grocery bag before finding the box of cutlery. He turned and tossed them onto the table, hearing them hit the table with the thump of finality. “Nothing.”
Ignis crossed his hands and looked at his three lover, daring them to say anything.
“Uh,” Prompto said after a minute, smiling eagerly as he eyed Ignis’s cake. “it’s okay, Iggy. You were busy making that cake, right? It looks good! I can’t wait to try it. Your cakes are like /the/ best.”
Noctis scratched the back of his head. “Well, I definitely can get behind some cake—”
Ignis sent them a /look/ which made Noctis’s words die on his lips.
Ignis turned and grabbed the cake plate and a sturdy metal fork and knife and made his way to the table. He sat down in his decluttered area and placed the plate and utensils down, looking each of them in the eye.
Gladio gulped.
Good.
Ignis stared at Gladio, then down to the chair on his left. He then looked at Noctis, who took the seat on his right. Prompto took the seat across from him.
“I… I don’t think we’re going to be getting any cake tonight,” Prompto whispered in terror as he dragged his seat backward, the sound of metal on tile making throwing the room into distorted noise.
“I believe you are quite right, Prompto,” Ignis icily replied as he sat himself into his own chair and pulled off each glove, slapping them against the table top. "This is /my/ supper."