"Then I succeeded," J teases, pleased with himself already. "Presents are supposed to be surprises." For that matter, he hasn't even told S what he's made. Given that he's never made it before, he's not entirely convinced it'll come out as well as he likes or even that the smell emanating from the oven is how it should smell — appealing, but not particularly sweet. Of course, he didn't want to go overboard with the sugar, since most desserts aren't meant to be very sweet and S doesn't have quite as much of a sweet tooth as he does, so that's probably why, but he's still nervous.

The timer is ticking away. He leans close for another quick kiss before drawing away, stepping over to turn the timer off before it can make any sound. He has no interest in listening to that. "Alright, here we go," he says, shooing S out of his way as he reaches for the oven mitts. He's come a long way since the early days here, he thinks, distantly proud of how much he can do now without being afraid of the stove. Opening the oven, he wrinkles up his nose at the wave of heat that comes out, then reaches in to pull the pan out and set it on top of the stove. The cake sheet looks right, a mochi cake in a lovely brown with hints of red from the dark red bean in the filling, walnuts and chestnuts crushed and drizzled on top. If nothing else, he's pleased with how pretty it is. "Ah, it looks good though? I have to slice it and let it cool first."