I Swear... It's Just A Cake :: Benji

31 October 1922
Tuesday 8:00pm
Medovik Cake

This was stupid.

Why was she even attempting this?

It wasn’t going to turn out. It would be chewy and disgusting. She’d make a fool out of herself.

“Ugh!”

Matilda had taken over a small work station and range, the elves being accommodating as always. But today wasn’t her normal baking. No muffins or cookies in sight. While on a rather boring library shift, Matilda searched through multiple recipe books for just the right dessert.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. A nice gesture for someone who was far away from home. She argued with herself for days, second guessing her idea. Even going so far as to toss the piece of paper with the recipe.

Then she took it out of the trash and walked with purpose to the kitchens.

Tomorrow was Serik’s birthday. Drago had mentioned it in passing a week ago, planting the seed. Then, as Tilly was known to do, she made the decision to go far beyond what would be considered normal.

Normal would have been a nice card and a small gift. Or getting the elves to make him a cupcake. Insane was spending hours looking for a recipe that takes hours to make and then 12 to 24 hours to cool. Insane was cooking a birthday cake for someone she barely knew. Insane was making this difficult cake for the brother of her… nope, still not sure what to label this circus.

Yep. Insane.

Matilda was forty minutes into the cake when the door opened. Benji walked in, towering over her after sprouting five feet in a year. Probably not five feet but the change was dramatic. “Well hello Benji Rachelle, what brings you to the kitchen today?”

Her bet was snacks. It took a lot of calories to keep him going.

Wearing her favorite green apron, Tilly's workstation was neat, clean and covered in ingredients that were not her typical. It dawned on her that she would have to tell him what she was doing. And why. After their initial meeting on the train their first year, she found it very difficult to lie to her best friend.

Shit… This was going to be embarrassing.

He'd come a long way from the short, chubby first year that army-crawled through the corridors past curfew in search of a snack. Back then he'd been a Cuddrun, a skateboarding troublemaker with a penchant for forgetting his shoes, but never a meal. A loud-mouth who often found more trouble than he needed, he'd become a regular at hiding out in the kitchens after dark, taken in by Toddles and the elf's culinary care.

It was Halloween, but Benji had never been big on the festivities. He wasn't one for dressing up in costumes and pretending to like the people around him. He preferred smaller parties these days, with his close friends where he could let loose, but as none of those seemed to be going on, he'd decided to take himself up to the kitchens.

Toddles would surely have all the treats he'd want.

“Ugh!”

"Ugh yourself, Ging," Benji quipped, a wide grin spreading across his lips as he sauntered through the kitchen door, towering over the girl who was closer in height to the elves these days. How different things looked now from that day they'd met over a lint-ridden tuna sandwich on the train.

“Well hello Benji Rachelle, what brings you to the kitchen today?”

"Food," he answered easily as he wandered past whatever it was she was doing and into the pantry where Toddles was busy organizing.

"No, no! The giant Hufflepuff cannot come in and mess up Toddles's pantry again! Left the chocolate chips open last time and mice found them!"

"Relaaaaaax, Toddles," Benji drawled, snatching up a bag of crisps and giving his favorite house elf a pat on the head as Toddles shoved him right back out. "Sheesh," he muttered, looking to Matilda and giving her a long-suffering eyeroll. Whatever had gotten into Toddles tonight was a cranky one.

"What are you doing? You're not a chef," he said as he sat himself on her counter. He dipped his finger into the batter and snuck a taste before she could stop him. Hmm. Caramel-y. Could use more butter probably.

Watching Benji grab a bag of crisps then eye-roll at Toodles made her snicker under her breath. The house elf was really annoyed by her friend. Which made her laugh even louder.

"What are you doing? You're not a chef." As he jumped up on her workstation and stuck his dirty finger in her batter she growled and pushed him in the shoulder. Picking up a clean wooden spoon, she swatted at Benji with as much force as she could muster against her best friend. Which wasn’t much if she was being honest.

“You shut your mouth right now or I won’t bake for you ever again. You are also one hundred percent banned from critiquing after stealing batter like a kitchen goblin.” She said, pointing the wooden spoon at his face. Narrowing her eyes, she sighed.

Cooking soothed her. Following a specific set of rules, measurements, times and temperatures was relaxing. Then, pulling her hot treats out of the oven and sharing it with her friends was the best feeling. Benji was a typical taste tester of her baked goods, but if he stuck his finger in her batter one more time he’d lose said finger.

“And excuse you, I am an excellent baker. Chef? I’m good, but baker? Absolutely.” A beat passed before she added, more defensively than intended, “People love my cookies, you being one of them.” Which was true. Mostly because she weaponized them emotionally.

A peace offering? Cookies. Bad day? Cookies. Minor inconvenience? Cookies. Existential crisis? Definitely cookies.

Unfortunately, Benji had known her long enough to spot avoidance from a mile away.

“It’s just a cake,” she said quickly. Too quickly.

She winced.

“…Okay, fine. It’s not just a cake.”

Her shoulders slumped dramatically.

“It’s for Serik.”

A pause.

“Drago’s brother.”

Another pause.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Another pause.

“Have I lost my mind?”

A beat.

“…Actually don’t answer that.”

She pointed the whisk at him accusingly.

“And before you start being insufferable, it’s for his birthday and he’s away from home and I thought it would be nice to make him something from home and this has nothing to do with Drago or liking him or not liking him or whatever is going on in that head of yours.”

“You shut your mouth right now or I won’t bake for you ever again. You are also one hundred percent banned from critiquing after stealing batter like a kitchen goblin.”

"Careful Ging. The house elves are sensitive about the 'goblin' insult." He grinned as she swatted him with the spoon, landing sharply against his upper arm. "Ow," he laughed, giving it a slight rub, but it did little to dissuade him. Matilda loved to mother him. There hadn't been a time since they'd met that they'd ever spent time together where she wasn't scolding or trying to redirect him.

It was the foundation of their friendship. Benji was fun, and Matilda was a hard-ass. One who needed to add a little something to her batter. "What's in it anyway? It's missing something." He snapped his fingers as he glanced around the kitchen. "Salt maybe?" Some cakes needed a little to counteract the sweetness. This one wasn't overly sweet, but still.

Probably that butter after all.

“And excuse you, I am an excellent baker. Chef? I’m good, but baker? Absolutely. People love my cookies, you being one of them.”

"Ehhh, you're alright." He shrugged a little as he dipped his finger back into the batter and stole another taste before she could swat him. "They're not the worst cookies I've ever had." He couldn't allow her to get a big head after all. There were enough girls in this school with egos the size of Europe.

He sat, watching her expressions shift wildly from casual sweetness to almost...defeat? How would a cake cause such turmoil? It was a pastry. Sweet, soft, delicious. Like a certain girl he knew. Benji's mind drifted to light brown skin and bouncy curls as the phantom scent of sugar and candy drifted up his nose. The noise of the kitchen fell away, brown eyes instead taking precedence in his musings.

“…Okay, fine. It’s not just a cake.”

He'd have to find her after this. She was probably in the Hospital Wing, barking orders at unruly first years. It was when she was the prettiest, he mused.

“It’s for Serik.”

Bossy, domineering, unyielding in her ways. Owning the Hospital Wing like it was hers in that little candy striper outfit.

“Drago’s brother.”

She could stand to shorten the skirt a bit. He liked her legs, and the more he got to see of them, the better. Maybe he'd tell her when he was done here with Tills.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

That brought him back. "Hmm?" She...knew what he was thinking? Benji's grin widened as he turned his attention back to Matilda, and eyebrow raising slightly. "Doubt it," he quipped, not having heard anything she said before, "If you did, that spoon would probably break over my head."

“Have I lost my mind?”

Probably. Benji opened his mouth to say that she'd never really had it, but she cut him off.

“And before you start being insufferable, it’s for his birthday and he’s away from home and I thought it would be nice to make him something from home and this has nothing to do with Drago or liking him or not liking him or whatever is going on in that head of yours.”

She pointed the whisk at him, batter flying from the utensil and spackling his face. He blinked, trying to understand what the fuck she was talking about, while his lips pulled into his mouth to clean the wayward batter. "What do I care that it's Drago's birthday?" Benji asked, his thumb wiping a bit from his cheek.

"You're the one marrying him, not me. You should add some hair growth potion to it though." He grabbed the whisk and flicked it back at her, sending what was left of the batter flying. "The bald look went out of style in 1915."