little bit of love

cupcake? [oliver kirkland]

In the early hours of the morning, sleep evaded you. And as much as you knew you should have been sleeping beside of your boyfriend, you stood in the kitchen, waiting for the oven to go off. A sweet scent wafted in the air-your favorite. It excited you to know that you'd have a delicious treat in a matter of minutes (and, of course, after letting it cool).

But you weren't the only one awake. Oliver woke with a start, feeling around the bed for your body. A comfort of his-touching you. If he could feel you, you knew that he was there for you. Or maybe, it was some internalized fear deep inside of him. If he couldn't feel you, were you even real? But that story is for another time; another place. Not here, not now, and not in the crevices of Oliver's worried mind.

He heard the timer for the oven, and a grimace made its way to his face. Did he fall asleep with something in the oven?

No.

It must have been you.

Oliver pulled himself out of bed, shuffling quietly down the hallway.

You shut off the timer, grabbing an oven mitt. Taking out the pan of cupcakes, you smiled. They weren't over-baked, like last time. The last time you had baked cupcakes, Oliver nearly had a panic attack from, you know, all the smoke. Okay-maybe it wasn't over-baked last time. It might have been burnt.

His yawn pulled you from your own mind as you sat the pan down on the stovetop.

"[Y/N]? What in heaven's name are you doing?" he asked. "It's three in the morning."

"It's when I bake best," you said, leaning against the counter. You would need to let the cupcakes cool for a little while before icing them-you didn't want a goopy mess. "Want to help me decorate?"

Oliver parted his lips, about to protest, but he nodded and gave you a bit of a smile.

"Is it better than last time, poppet?" he asked, his voice soft and sweet. You knew he was making fun of you, but you couldn't help but smile.

You stuck your tongue out at him. "Much better. I'm hoping. I mean, I learned from the best, after all," you said, smiling.

Oliver walked over to you, hesitantly placing his hands on your hips. He looked exhausted.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"You can go back to bed. I'll be there eventually."

"Yes, but, you're going without sleep. I felt you tossing and turning," he said. "I'll stay up with you."

Your smile only grew, arms wrapping around his neck.

Silence followed, but it was soon interrupted by the man in front of you.

"What flavor did you make them?"