#world's teeniest chocolate croissant | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jasenet · 3 years

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201021 | #resort-hotel-level-1

location: rotherich rise resort / event.

CH: he'd spent hours trying to work out the logistics and that was after hours begging the friend he'd made while dining in the hotel restaurant to introduce him to the chef, which in turn became him pleading his case to the chef to borrow their kitchen. of course, he didn't realize the request isn't too far-fetched for a hotel guest but he hadn't spent much time as an actual guest before. his experience with hotels and resorts was limited. even when he'd joined the pack, he could say he honestly never expected staying in a place like this, let alone for mating season. but when julian's birthday coincides with their time at the resort, he quickly adjusts his plans here and there.

though it's more difficult to bring along hop tart now more than ever, he does have the needle felt bunny he's made to look just like him. her? he still thinks figuring out bunny gender is too difficult. there's slight calluses on his fingers from the effort but the final product and the smile it might bring to julian's face make it all worthwhile. now it's just the cake to finish. purposely homemade. it didn't seem right to do anything else, to buy or order one when it's more personal this way, including the teeniest swipe of freshly whipped cream he steals away before putting the cake away for safe transport.

with the way he's practically bouncing with each step, fingers tapping against the box, a light melody hummed, head bobbing to said melody, it's a wonder he doesn't drop it despite the short trip when julian's on the first floor. knocking on the door, he balances slightly against the door frame, eyes widening as he slips just ever-so-slightly, the loops of the gift bag he brought along sliding down his forearm, a low whine emitted as he watches it unfold before his eyes. at least the cake is still secure. for now.

JN: Clank, shaken, spills. The stainless steel tray falls unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor, dragging with it a glass of half-consumed chocolate milk and a plate of croissants. They move until the kinetic energy within them turns into potential, and he’s left in a daze. The lota closes his eyes and releases a breath. Here, any lota would know. The symptoms of mating season affect him differently to his given rank. As curious as he normally is, he chooses ignorant bliss over the discovery of his true rank. After all, he would never hunt.

So he falls to his knees and sorts out what’s left of his breakfast. The world’s rather forgiving this morning, he supposes. Yet he takes his time up until the door opens and he rushes to his feet, tray in tow. Julian looks at the arriving wolf with wide eyes for a moment, still as a statue and likely as dumb as a tack for staring. “Oh, Chase!” He washes away the surprise while he sets the tray onto the makeshift vanity. Inspecting the box in Chase’s hands there, he stands very still. “You‘ve brought cake in a box, because—“ His brows knit in hopeless question. The very idea of dessert much closer to lunch now is admittedly not a point of commonality.

It’s then that he pats his trousers for his phone. He hasn’t looked at it throughout the morning, ignorant to something as simple as the day they live in. “It’s my birthday.” Julian inspects the scene with new eyes, and he’s instantly joyed. “Did you bring me cake because it’s my birthday?” It’s hard to tell, but he almost croaks as he lurches forward to hug Chase in the style of a game of twister. “I could cry, you’re the best.”

#( unfinished )

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