Chapter Text
As much as he hates to admit it, Pastille is tired.
The winter holidays have always been busier for Atelier Sweets, since plenty of people want to buy candy for their loved ones, especially for sweettoothed children. Since Gumdrop started working, though, the store’s popularity has shot up significantly, and of course Syrup’s new candy experiments have been selling splendidly. Pastille and Syrup had been toying with the idea of hiring more staff for a while now, but now that things have gotten busier Pastille thinks they definitely need to take on at least one extra person. Because even Pastille, Syrup, and Gumdrop’s work combined doesn’t cut it for the holiday rushes they’ve been having lately.
Pastille’s been working more overtime hours this month than he can count. Sometimes he doesn’t even count all of them. Not that Syrup encourages him to work off the clock on purpose—she’s frugal, but not Satan—Pastille just finds it a bit hard to be the one to give himself the biggest paycheck out of everyone. Even if he was doing the most work.
(Realistically, he could stand to ask Syrup for a little bit more help around the shop, but, well—opening up to her is hard!!)
And Gumdrop, unfortunately, is still learning. She’s Pastille’s first golem after all, and he didn’t exactly design her to be a customer service robot, he designed her to be Syrup’s friend. Not that Pastille can discredit all the work that she’s done—she’s definitely been a huge help since he and Syrup decided to have her help around the store, but certain technical things she hasn’t reached yet. Pastille still does inventory by himself for example, and payroll, of course. At the current moment he doesn’t have nearly the time nor the energy to continue her training or make any necessary tweaks to her programming, so in the meantime, the only person who can do certain things is him.
Next year will be easier for sure. Once he hires another customer service representative, and gets Gumdrop up to par on handling inventory and all the closing duties, it should be fine. He just has to tough it out for a few more weeks.
Pastille’s wobbling a little bit on his feet as he bustles around the store. Today’s shift has been especially taxing on him, he’s hardly had a moment to catch a break. Gumdrop was able to relieve him for his lunch, but there was an incident in the store that had required him to interrupt it to handle a dispute—some witch was demanding a refund for some candy she had bought and already eaten, and Gumdrop simply wasn’t intimidating enough for her to take no for an answer. Another thing he’ll have to work on with her.
So Pastille’s been on his feet basically all day. Thankfully his shift is almost over—Pastille finally was able to lock the doors a half an hour ago since the shop officially closed for the evening, and there’s just a few more tasks to do before he can properly go home. Gumdrop has been diligently tidying up the store after the whirlwind of customers they just had all day while Pastille tallies up their sales for the day. He’s normally quite gifted at math but for some reason the numbers keep slipping out of his head like chocolate sauce. Maybe he should turn in early tonight… he’s spent the past few nights up late with Periwinkle because they just can’t say goodbye to each other. There’s just something about Periwinkle that makes his body and his brain relax, and his tense muscles have needed that more than ever this week.
Finally, after counting three separate times because his brain feels like it’s wading through molasses right now, Pastille finishes closing up the register. They made quite a bit today. Syrup will definitely be pleased with the profits.
“Is there anything else you would like me to do, Master Pastille?” Gumdrop asks as Pastille tucks their profits away into the safe.
Pastille takes a quick glance at the store to see that it’s sparkling clean. Bless her. At least he won’t have to break his back sweeping or tidying up the shelves for the millionth time today—it seemed that customers were dirtying every inch of the store by the hour.
“No, Gumdrop, you should be good. Great job today, you were a really big help.” The golem beams at the compliment, and Pastille smiles weakly back at her.
“Okay, I will be in the basement helping Syrup with her candymaking. Would you like to come with me?”
As much as Pastille normally loves sampling Syrup’s tasty experiments, he needs anything but that right now. The smell of sweets is making him woozy. “No, Gumdrop, I’m okay for tonight, but you two have fun. I need to get some rest, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning! Let me know what she decides to cook up next.”
“Alright! Please have a very good night, Master Pastille!” Gumdrop says cheerily as she bounds down the stairs quicker than Pastille can say anything else to her. He’s quite proud of how much free will she’s been developing lately. Of course, Gumdrop’s motivations can mostly be chalked up to her desire to please either Syrup or Pastille, but it’s nice to see her do things on her own now.
Gumdrop’s absence in the wake of the end of his shift also gives Pastille a prime opportunity. Normally, Syrup and Gumdrop would expect him to retire in his room upstairs after a long day of work, which is what he would normally do if he wasn’t down in the basement helping taste test Syrup’s experiments. But…
Pastille feels his face heat up a bit with a mixture of shame and embarrassment for what he’s about to do. He really needs to stop; he’s seen Periwinkle a total of three days this week already and it’s already been making him show up to work late. But he’s oh so tired, and all he can think about right now is being curled up in the arms of a particularly aromatic witch…
It is embarrassing how little self control Pastille has lately. He barely remembers to turn all the lights off before he slips discreetly out the back door and into the night.
Periwinkle’s lights are, of course, on when Pastille comes up to his front porch. He gives a tentative knock—Periwinkle told him that he doesn’t need to make up excuses to come over anymore, but he still gets a little nervous about disturbing him.
Just when Pastille starts to think he should have knocked louder, Periwinkle opens the door and Pastille is immediately greeted with the comforting smell of star jasmine. “Pastille! What a pleasant surprise!”
Before Periwinkle can say anything else, Pastille’s already stepped inside the doorway to pull Periwinkle into a passionate kiss. He breathes in sweet jasmine flowers and cradles a hand around Periwinkle’s delicately soft face, pressing their bodies flush against each other. Periwinkle grips his waist in a way that makes Pastille’s body turn to jelly, and he melts into his embrace.
“Goodness! Eager today, aren’t we,” Periwinkle hums as the door shuts behind them.
“Sorry,” Pastille breathes, his face flushed. He makes no move to pull himself away from his body’s place among the billowing ruffles of Periwinkle’s dress.
“Pastille—darling—oh goodness you are so sweet.” Periwinkle wobbles a bit awkwardly, leaning back against the wall to maintain his balance. “I am beginning to lose my footing with you leaning on me so hard, how about we make our way over to the couch? Then you can be on top of me all you want.”
“O-oh, yes, of course,” Pastille stammers, but now his body feels like jelly against Periwinkle’s and lifting himself back onto his feet feels like it will take strength that he does not have.
“Darling? Is everything alright?”
“Sorry… long day,” Pastille murmurs into his boyfriend’s chest. He’s so weak. Why is he so weak?
“Hmmmhm… Alright then,” Periwinkle hums, and before Pastille can ponder about what that means he is lifted up into Periwinkle’s delicate arms and promptly placed onto the cushions of his boyfriend’s luxurious couch with a very elegant grunt.
Pastille blinks, buried in silk cushions as Periwinkle’s face beams up from above him. “There! Now you don’t need to get up for the rest of the night.”
If only to spite him, Pastille tries to maneuver himself off the couch but nearly faceplants on the floor trying to do so.
Now Periwinkle’s expression has turned to concern. “Pastille, my sweet, are you quite alright? Are you feeling lightheaded?”
“A bit,” Pastille admits. “Today was… hard.”
Periwinkle hums softly in sympathy. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No, I haven’t.” Pastille conveniently leaves out the fact that he didn’t have much time to eat lunch today either.
“Oh, perfect! I was just about to order dinner,” Periwinkle says cheerily.
“Oh, no, I can cook something—” Pastille moves to get off the couch once again before Periwinkle puts a finger to his chest.
“You, my sweet, are staying right here. What do you want from that lovely udon place down the street?”
“Kitsune udon is fine with me,” Pastille sighs. The couch is quite comfy after all.
Periwinkle beams at him and leans down to give Pastille a quick peck on the cheek. “Alright, I’ll be back very soon. Don’t you dare move~!” he warns in a singsong tone, which makes Pastille smile again before the door closes.
It’s impossible to pull away from the couch while he waits. Pastille gets close to dozing off a few times, his body melting into a puddle amongst the comforting warmth of the cushions. Periwinkle’s intoxicating scent is embedded into the fabric, filling his head with thoughts of flowers and soft kisses. He could really lie here forever.
But Periwinkle sails back inside right before Pastille can properly doze off, even quicker than anticipated. He forgot how speedy those folks at the udon place worked.
“I’m back! I dropped by the store on my way home as well,” Periwinkle announces as he toes off his shoes and begins setting takeout bags down on the table by the couch. He presents a green bottle to Pastille with a grin. “If you’d like some soju to unwind. I got your favorite flavor.”
It’s strawberry—Pastille could cry, he loves this witch so much.
Periwinkle sets down a steaming bowl of udon in front of him and pours him a shot of soju in one of his dainty little cups. The noodles are soft and delightfully hot—he washes it down with the cold strawberry drink, the alcohol blooming warmth into his chest as it goes down.
“Good?” Periwinkle asks.
“Mmhmm…” Pastille hums, his face growing warm as he finishes the shot. The soju is dangerously sweet, and Pastille can’t stop himself from pouring himself another one.
Periwinkle eats delicately, as always, taking great care not to spill a single drop of soup or drink on his thin dress. He’s always admired how Periwinkle manages to do everything gracefully, down to the movements of his thin fingers and the curve of his lips.
“Pastille, dear,” Periwinkle says between sips of soju. “I didn’t want to ask, but… are you aware that you forgot to change out of your uniform?”
“I—wuh—” Pastille looks down at what he’s wearing, and lo and behold, he’s got his apron still on and everything. “Oh my gosh.” If his face wasn’t already warm from the alcohol, it’s burning now, and he quickly hides it behind his hands. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”
“It’s alright, my sweet,” Periwinkle reassures him. “Besides—” Pastille can feel his heart rate begin to spike a bit as Periwinkle leans in close, a finger enclosing the pink tie wrapped around his neck. “I think it looks quite cute on you.”
“Oh—um—I see.” Pastille’s hands fall from his face and his eyes meet Periwinkle’s. He’s so close.
Periwinkle tugs on his tie to quickly pull him into a kiss, and Pastille gets another taste of strawberry as the witch gently caresses his face. Pastille kisses him back hungrily, the heat in Periwinkle’s body electric against his. Delicate fingers trail from his neck, then down his shirt, and Pastille shivers.
“Periiiii…”
“Hmm~?”
“You can’t do this to meeeee…” He’s so warm. Pastille’s head feels tilty.
“Oh, Pastille.” Another hand finds a resting place against his middle. “You’re so cute.”
“Mmmh…” The soju makes him feel so floaty. He feels like he’s melted into Periwinkle like goo, and nothing can pull them apart.
Pastille wants to clean up after dinner, but even he knows that’s not going to happen. What does happen is that his uniform finally makes it off his body. And before he knows it, he finds himself in Periwinkle’s bed. Pastille's buzzed, and sleepy, but not too drunk to partake in anything. Periwinkle is gentle with him, as always.
They have… quite a bit of fun until Pastille is struggling to keep his eyes open between witch kisses. Before he knows it, Periwinkle’s turning off the lights and tucking him into bed. Pastille doesn’t remember much before he drifts off into a blissful sleep.