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[attr="class","bisc"]“Six croissants, two slices of vegan cheesecake, and three lemon cookies—” Biscotti murmured the customer’s order back to them as he piles up a Kingsley Confections box. The baked goods are still warm, the heat courtesy of the Dachsbun sleeping beneath the display case.

With an awkward grin, he sends the client out the door. He lifts his hand to wave but it’s at an empty space. He’s too late. Scotti’s raised hand stays there for a moment as the teenager tries to overcome his awkwardness.

Before he can figure out a good place to put his hand, the door opens again. His fingers are spread wide, waiting for a high-five that will never come. His cheeks flare red as he stuffs it into his pants pocket. But the uniform slacks are too small for that.

“Hey man!” Biscotti’s voice is friendly—a bit like an excited but nervous labrador. “Welcome to Congsley Kingfections.” He blinks twice and shakes his head. “Kingsley—-you saw the sign.” The dog peeks up sleepily from her bed. Her breath escapes in a resigned huff. C’mon, man. Can I get some support here.

“Can I help you?”

absalom steel

☉

[attr="class","header"]WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU MAKES YOU STRONGER

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As wrapped up in his thoughts as he was, he hadn’t really noticed Biscotti until the older male greeted him. A slight widening of his eyes was the only sign of his surprise as he turned to face the older male. Before he could recover his composure enough to return the greeting, the older male was speaking once more.
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“Right,” he trailed off, his brows furrowing in confusion.
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A few seconds of awkwardness passed before he seemed to realize that should probably give a better response than that. “I mean, yes, I did,” he said, smiling a bit awkwardly. He really needed to stop getting so wrapped up in his own thoughts because it clearly caused him to be spacey.
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To his relief, the older male asked him what he needed. “My older sister placed an order for a dozen cupcakes, so I’m here to pick up the older. If they’re not done, I’m fine with waiting; it would give me a chance to look for something for myself.”[break] Biscotti Kingsley

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[attr="class","bisc"]The brunette was used to awkward pauses. But, usually, he was the one causing him. At the short response, Biscotti shrugged. Looks like he needs a minute. Curtness and brushings off didn’t really bug him. He wasn’t important enough to demand attention. So, ignoring him washed off his back like water with a Ducklett. Or, uh, was it oil? After lingering for a second more, the baker turned his attention to his work area.

A bit of powdered sugar dusted into a trash bin. The twine was wrapped into a shape that vaguely resembled his Dachsbun’s head before winding fully into a little pile. Then, the kid spoke again. “Oh?” Biscotti’s smile was the same as earlier. It was all easygoing, doofus dog. “Well, that’s what they pay me for.” There was a small pause as he muttered something beneath his breath. “Not that it’s all that much.” Then again, his sister didn’t charge him anything—no rent, no gas, no electricity.

At the talk of cupcakes, Biscotti nodded. They only had one order like that back there. “Sure, bud! I’ll just need your name—” There was a pause. “And how much time you want me to waste.”

absalom steel

☉