A/N: Hey, guys. I have decided to write a fic with a hint of spice and Lemon. I had a moment the other day where I just imagined what a snippet of a scene might be like in their early marriage years if they got married after the manga (which, OF COURSE THEY DID) and this is what happened! Although they may seem slightly OOC, I think if you really thought about their relationship and their lives and how they've been together forever and are now married...well. Hopefully, it won't be too weird for you all. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters! They all belong to CLAMP.
Smiles were exchanged yet she kept her eye on his back as he read the recipe over again while the oven was preheating. When she thought he wasn't looking, she slowly lifted the mixing spoon to her mouth and held it there, waiting with bated breath to see if he would turn around. After a few seconds had passed, she decided it was safe to risk it and scraped the entire spoon clean of cookie dough, but then—
"Sakura, what are you doing?" his voice demanded sternly behind her.
She froze and, still facing away from him, turned her neck around to look him in the eye, mustering up her most innocent expression. His gaze, however, was always sharp and never allowed anything to pass by unnoticed. It was both a gift and curse.
"I saw that," he commented. She dropped the spoon and let out a tiny sheepish giggle; she knew he wasn't going to buy it but she hoped to disarm his disapproval.
"It was just a little taste, you know—to make sure we got the recipe alright."
"That was more than a little taste," he frowned. "You know eating cookie dough does bad things for you."
"I'm just eating a little bit," she implored, pouting slightly. "Then I'll stop."
"That's what you said last time, too," he reminded her, triggering flashbacks of her sprawled over the couch, clutching her stomach, and wondering when her life was going to end. She had gone overkill with the dough that time though.
"It wasn't that bad," she maintained stubbornly.
"Really?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Because if I recall correctly, you were repeating the words, 'Syaoran, I'm dying,' over and over again and you even half-composed a will in which I get to keep most of your belongings—including all of your stuffed animals. You also said you would have passed the plushie toy to me but you didn't think that was the way it worked with him and I wouldn't want to take him anyway—or vice versa."
"Yet you still haven't promised to take care of them," she accused. "Well, not Kero-chan. I agree we should probably leave him out of the deal."
He rolled his eyes.
"Okay. I, Li Syaoran, promise Li Sakura—formerly known as Kinomoto Sakura—to forever guard her stuffed animals long after her death until I join her. Anyways," he waved the proclamation aside and grabbed the mixing bowl away from her. "Sakura, you've had your fill of cookie dough for tonight."
Her pout deepened as she made a half-hearted attempt to reach out for it. "But it just tastes so good."
His eyes softened the moment her lower lip puckered up and she knew he couldn't stay mad for too long. Reaching for the bag of chocolate chips, she grabbed a handful and held it out to him.
"Truce?"
He remained unmoving, glaring up at the ceiling in his usual stubborn nature, but she knew his resolve would not hold for much longer. She smiled; first, a small one, then a wide grin split her face as she tried not to laugh. She thought she saw the beginnings of a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips but still, he kept his expression stony.
"Guess not, then," she said, retracting her hand and dropping the chocolate chips back onto the table. Then she grabbed the bowl back and lowered her hand to the dough.
"Sakura, if you put your fingers back into the bowl—" he said warningly.
"Then what?" she challenged.
"I'll—"
"—punish me?" she raised her eyebrows at him flirtatiously. Scooping up a mouthful of cookie dough, she swallowed it whole, slowly licking each of her fingers off individually. She laughed internally watching him struggle with himself not to lose his calm. He was completely stiff and seemed to be wrestling with the urge to yell at her or even attack her. Attacking her was not out of the question, she knew, because he knew she was not weak. But, then again, Syaoran always, always, always treated her delicately and with respect.
"Syaoran, you ought to let yourself live a little. After all, we're still young," she winked as she dipped her finger once again into the bowl and stepped closer to him.
"W-what are you doing?" he questioned, backing away, but she came closer with her finger held out until he felt the wall behind him. She grinned and continued on until she was right in front of him.
"Let's live a little," she whispered in his ear, now trapping him with her arms against the wall, the dough-covered finger threateningly close to his nose.
"S-Sakura..." he mumbled under his breath. "Don't...I'm warning you."
Her eyes were malevolent as she thought of how despite his many years of martial arts training,—and those years were very apparent at the moment as she could feel his firm, sculpted chest against hers—he always seemed to crumble beneath her. But even as the thought passed through her mind, he suddenly grabbed her wrist before she could stop him and in one frenzied moment of scuffling and crying out, before either of them knew what or how it had happened, the cookie dough was smeared all over her cheeks.
She blinked. He blinked. They both blinked again, momentarily stunned.
"S-Syaoran?" she touched her cheek with her finger and immediately felt the proof of his betrayal. His look of surprise lingered beyond hers but the longer she stared, the more he seemed to be suppressing a smirk. She was going to make him pay for that one.
Before she could do anything else, however, he suddenly cupped both hands around her face and covered his whole tongue all over her cheek.
"Ahh!" she screamed. "What are you doing?"
With a finishing sweep, he withdrew back and licked his lips clean of cookie dough.
"Living a little," he answered. He was now exhibiting a full fledged smirk.
She continued to stare into his amber pools for a moment in paralyzed shock at what had just happened. Syaoran had a stubborn and rigid nature, yes, and she never wanted that to change about him. It was a huge reason she fell in love with him in the first place. But every once in a while, their differences seemed to cross over so very nicely. Those were the magical moments that showed them that who they are inherently could mesh together so perfectly.
Slowly, she finally began to recover from her shock: her expression relaxed and another smile curled at the corner of her lips.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye, stepping closer and pushing him back against the wall. She was distinctly aware of his intoxicating scent and consequently, rubbed her nose against his chin while her fingers traced circles on his chest.
"It really was, though," he said, feigning misery, looking into her eyes with mock concern. His hand was traveling up her back and she felt it bring her head closer to his mouth. The thin strap of her dress was falling off her left shoulder but she knew neither of them minded. "I think you ought to help me lick the cookie dough off properly. I don't really want the taste on my tongue anymore."
"You expect me to help you," she breathed, her eyes fluttering up at him, "after you completely betrayed me just now?"
"Fully," he said before he closed the gap between them. Sakura's mouth opened immediately, now a long-familiar reaction to the firm yet soft lips she knew so well—the only lips she hoped she would ever know—as his tongue slipped in with hers and her hands sunk into his messy chestnut hair. His hands were rubbing her shoulders and when she gently bit his lower lip, Syaoran suddenly shifted her around so that he was pinning her against the wall instead.
"There are so many things that taste better than cookie dough, you know," he said before descending once again upon her lips. She felt his mouth move over her jawline and down to her neck where he lingered, his tongue following a trail he now knew by heart, tracing with pressure along memorized lines.
"I know exactly what you mean," she murmured in his ear, hoping her warm breath would get a rise out of him as she nibbled playfully at his earlobe for good measure. She heard the faintest groan escape his mouth and grinned to herself. Sliding her hand down his back, she held him even closer. His hand ran down her hips and hooked her knee up, and as their lips found each other again, she pushed herself up, both knees around his waist, her back against the wall for support.
Their tongues danced to a rhythm familiar to them both and, after another break for air, Syaoran continued his trek down her neck towards her chest, slowing down tantalizingly at the border where fabric met skin. Unable to stop herself, she had to let out a sigh as she clung tightly onto his shoulders to avoid shaking too much.
"Syaoran—" she moaned, and uttered one last commanding word: "Bedroom."
He didn't need telling twice. Without further ado, he wholeheartedly obeyed her wish and lifted her off from the wall as she adjusted her balance, and carried her away from the kitchen, where the cookie dough that they had squabbled over laid forgotten for the rest of the evening.