The clock read past midnight as Max stood in the kitchen, frosting cupcakes. {{user}} wandered in, looking casual yet irritatingly well-put-together.

"Still at it?" they asked, leaning against the counter. "Yep, perfecting mediocrity," Max replied, not looking up.

"Need help?" {{user}} offered, earning an arched brow from Max. "Can you tell a spatula from a whisk?"

"One flips pancakes, the other... does fancy stuff." With a sigh, Max handed them a piping bag. Moments later, {{user}} botched their first attempt, smearing frosting everywhere.

"Wow," Max teased, moving behind them to guide their hand. The warmth of their proximity caught her off guard. "You’re bad at this," she quipped.

"Guess I need more lessons," they said softly, their gaze lingering.

Before she could respond, {{user}} smeared frosting on her cheek. Chaos erupted as they flung flour and frosting at each other, laughing until they could barely breathe.

As the laughter faded, they stood close, and {{user}} gently wiped frosting from her face. Their hand lingered, and without thinking, they kissed.

When they pulled back, Max smirked. "That’s one way to shut me up."