Author's Notes: Hoo-boy, it's been a long time since I wrote for Bakuretsu Hunters. However, it's also been a long time since I sold the manga I had of it. I had originally gotten it in English, but I decided that I wanted to get it in Japanese, so I sold the books I already had…but then didn't buy them again in Japanese for quite a while. I finally have, and I'm happy to say I now have the complete set (instead of all but the thirteenth). Anyway, I have taken quite a liking to Chiffon and Kahlua. Even though you don't see them too much, I like their characters, and they're cute to boot. My Muse has decided she likes them as a pair, and I really need to get back into writing, so I decided to write a fic for them. It'll be short and pointless fluff, but most of my most recent writings have been pretty heavy stuff, and I need to write something that makes me smile instead of wince.

I have absolutely no idea of what Kahlua's last name is. I've read through the whole manga, and I have yet to find it. Either I'm missing it entirely, or it's not mentioned. So, for sake of consistency, I made one up for him. If he does indeed have one already, oh well.

Bakuretsu Hunters, Chiffon, Kahlua, and the other characters therein belong to Akahori Satoru and Omishi Ray. I'm just borrowing them for a while to amuse myself.

Cake and Liquor
By Annie-chan

Sunlight suddenly broke over the eastern horizon, the pale pink glow that heralded the coming of the sun flaring red and orange and yellow as the daystar burst into view, lighting the world for another morning, another day. Dewdrops glistened on leaves and blades of grass, decorating spiders' webs like tiny incandescent pearls. The songs of birds, which had been hopeful yet subdued until now, swelled and filled the air with a cascade of euphoric notes.

A gentle breeze lifted thin gauzy curtains as it drifted in a widow, propped open just a little bit to let such breezes in.

"Mm…"

Greenish-black eyelashes fluttered in the half-light of the bedroom on the other side of the window. Chiffon Cake, his sleep gradually breaking, stirred slightly. Pulling the covers a little tighter around himself, he snuggled back against his lover, seeking his warmth. Kahlua Liquor lay at his back, his arms wound around the smaller man's waist. Chiffon could feel Kahlua's gentle breathing on the back of his neck, and knew that he was still sleeping. Nevertheless, he heard a low purr come from deep in Kahlua's throat as he pressed back against him.

Chiffon finally opened his dark eyes, blinking a few times as the morning light filtered through the translucent curtains. He had slept soundly the previous night, and was now well rested, perfectly refreshed. Indeed, he wondered how he could sleep any way but soundly in Kahlua's arms, safe and secure. He was an uncommonly skilled and powerful magician, and had no real need to fear danger, but he enjoyed the protected feeling he had whenever he was in Kahlua's embrace.

He absently toyed with a few strands of deep blue hair that fell over his shoulder, mingling with his own dark green hair, thinking back on their relationship. Things were not always thus between them. When they had first met as very young men, Chiffon had thought Kahlua unnecessarily cold and aloof. His first impression of the taller man was that he was too arrogant to warm up to people, completely the opposite of himself. Chiffon very easily trusted people, and couldn't understand how Kahlua could not. Fate placed them in each other's company quite often, however, and Chiffon had tried his best to engage Kahlua in conversation. He had been raised to always give others a second chance, and thought that if he could let Kahlua know a little about him, he would reciprocate and open up a little. He had had little success in getting Kahlua to open up, but what little he learned told him that Kahlua was neither arrogant nor uncaring. He was just quiet and reserved, and held the opinion that if one made friends too easily and too quickly, one was setting oneself up to be disappointed and hurt too often. Many times, a friend turns out to be a different person than you originally see them as, and prolonged acquaintance can reveal incompatible flaws.

Kahlua had surprised Chiffon when he asked if he could touch his face. When asked why, he had explained that he wanted to know what Chiffon looked like, and being blind kept him from doing so with his eyes. Almost as an afterthought, Kahlua had told him that it wasn't often that he asked to touch someone's face, and that only those he trusted received that request. Surprised even more to discover that Kahlua trusted him, he had agreed without hesitation. He had taken off his glasses and closed his eyes.

Kahlua's fingers had been gentle, brushing over his skin slowly, observantly. Chiffon remembered that they had been that peculiar warm-cool temperature that skin sometimes had, and something deep inside of him had quivered nervously at that soft touch. Kahlua seemed almost reverent as he traced over Chiffon's cheekbones, chin, nose, lips, eyelids, and forehead, committing every detail to memory and forming a spatial picture in his mind of this young, fine-boned face.

Chiffon had also noticed Kahlua breathing in quite slowly, as if smelling him. Just as he realized that, however, he also realized that he himself was taking in Kahlua's delicate scent. It was the faint fragrance of soap and shampoo, laced with understated cologne. That thing deep within him quivered again, but he was no closer to figuring out what it was or what it meant.

Kahlua's touches did not stop at his ears, as Chiffon expected. The taller man threaded his fingers through Chiffon's fine green-black hair, combing it back from his face. Chiffon's scalp tingled at the soft massage, and a sigh escaped his lips as the slender fingers trailed down his neck to his shoulders. Kahlua had paused then, and no sooner had he opened his eyes, Kahlua had stood up and was exiting the room. Part of him wanted to call after Kahlua and ask why he was so hastily leaving, but he stayed put and made no sound. Strange thoughts were flitting through his head, and butterflies were flying around in the pit of his stomach. What did these feelings mean?

For the next several days, he had seen little of Kahlua. The taller man seemed to almost be avoiding him, but Chiffon could find no reason to confront him about it, as Kahlua's excuses always seemed legitimate. Chiffon had been disappointed, but there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was wait and hope Kahlua found time to spend with him again.

On the sixth night, Kahlua did indeed come to see him, but in a manner that Chiffon neither expected nor welcomed. Kahlua had come in his bedroom without asking for permission to enter or even knocking. Startled, Chiffon hadn't time to protest or ask for an explanation before he found himself on his back, pressed between his mattress and Kahlua's larger, stronger body. Hungry lips had sealed themselves over his mouth, and a hot, slick tongue had pushed inside as soon as Chiffon's lips had parted in an attempt to cry out.

The sex had been raw and quick. Kahlua had seemed possessed of a passion and lust so powerful that he couldn't control himself as he ravished this fresh young body beneath him. He had been strangely silent throughout it all, his heavy breathing and the thin sheen of sweat on his skin the only indications that his nerves were caught in the throes of sexual excitement.

Chiffon, on the other hand, had not been quiet. He had begged and cried, pleading with Kahlua, first to have mercy and release him, then to continue on and take him over the edge of pure bliss. Pain and pleasure had mingled freely, and his virgin body was singing and screaming all at once with the sensations that slammed through him. The shriek he gave as he peaked was both ecstatic and agonized, his brain confused over whether he loved or hated this. In the end, he felt bruised and torn, and he was sure that he was bleeding. His body ached terribly, but a strange warm sensation was forming in his chest, and his exhausted brain had been unable to comprehend what it was as it teetered on the edge of unconsciousness.

Kahlua had been gone by the time he woke up the next morning.

Chiffon closed his eyes as he remembered the weeks after that. Kahlua had come to his bedroom night after night, again and again. None of their subsequent encounters were quite so frantic or desperate as their first night together. Each time was more pleasurable for him than the last, and he learned how to please Kahlua as he taught the taller man how best to please him. After several days, he began looking forward to their meetings, and that warm feeling in his chest grew more every time they made love.

Little was said between them during these encounters. Kahlua was always gone by the next morning, and he sometimes didn't even stick around until Chiffon was completely asleep. The smaller man's heart squeezed painfully each time he woke up to an empty bed, and one night, several weeks after his first time, he finally said the words that had been burning in his brain for quite a while now. He needed to say them, needed to let Kahlua know just how these nights were affecting him.

"Kahlua, wait," he had said as Kahlua had approached him one night. It was the first time either of them had preceded their activities with speech. Kahlua had paused, taken off guard. Taking a deep breath, Chiffon let the words out quickly, so he wouldn't have any chance to say something else. "I love you, Kahlua," he had said, his voice trembling slightly. "I can't ignore it anymore. I love you."

Kahlua had been as still and silent as death. His face had been expressionless, and the permanently closed eyelids prevented the other man from reading his mood in his eyes. In fact, he had been silent for so long, that Chiffon had come to the verge of bursting into tears of disappointment and devastation. He had been so sure that he had scared this man away just as he realized that it was love that he felt for him. At that moment, he had been exceedingly grateful that Kahlua was blind, as the taller man was unaware of the tortured expression that slowly settled on Chiffon's face.

Just as Chiffon was about to flee from his own bedroom, however, Kahlua had taken hold of him and pressed him down to the bed, settling over him. Their lovemaking that night had been soft and gentle, and Chiffon had felt tears pricking his eyes by the end. Just as the smaller man was about to drift off to sleep, he had felt Kahlua's warm lips at his ear, and three small words were whispered into it: I love you. Chiffon's tears had broken free at that moment, and he had clung to Kahlua, weeping in both relief and joy to know that his love returned his tender feelings.

That had been a while ago now, and their love had only grown since then. The initial passion and ardor had faded somewhat, but it had been replaced with a deep, unwavering affection and understanding. They no longer made love every night, but it was because they didn't feel the need to. They were often content to fall asleep in each other's arms, satisfied with chaste touching and murmured words. They knew how much they loved each other, and sex was only one way they expressed those feelings. By mutual consent, neither tried to change the other's nature. Chiffon was smiley and friendly, while Kahlua was reserved and often a little removed from those around him. Such characteristics were very much a part of them, and to try to change them would indicate that their love was something other than unconditional and pure.

Kahlua began to stir in his sleep, and the arms around Chiffon's waist tightened. The smaller man purred as he felt feather-light kisses on his nape and shoulder.

"Chiffon," Kahlua breathed in his smooth, rich voice. "Chiffon, my love."

"I see you're finally awake," Chiffon teased, an impish grin sliding over his face. "I've been stuck here forever. You wouldn't let me up."

"I am sure you do not mind," Kahlua whispered, nuzzling the back of Chiffon's neck.

"You're right," Chiffon chuckled. "I don't."

Kahlua loosened his hold so his partner could turn around and face him. Chiffon gently took hold of Kahlua's face and drew them together for a kiss. Tenderly caressing Kahlua's lips with his own, he pressed their bodies together again, shivering in the feeling of his lover's nude body brushing against his.

"Beautiful," Chiffon murmured as he pulled back. "Absolutely beautiful."

To his dismay, Kahlua shook his head. "No, Chiffon," he said with a small smile. "It is not me who is beautiful. It is you."

"But…" Chiffon began to protest.

"I know what you are thinking," Kahlua said, "but your beauty goes far deeper than your skin. I do not have to see it to know that it is there."

Chiffon looked into his lover's face, painfully aware that Kahlua was blind. He had a vague notion of light and dark, but no color, no way to appreciate beautiful things like Chiffon could. His heart ached for a way to help his love, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"Do not be sad, Chiffon," Kahlua said, as if guessing his thoughts. "Being blind allows me to look past the false exteriors that too many people and things present to the outside world. I can see right through to your inner self, and I like what I see."

"You don't regret it?" Chiffon asked cautiously.

"No," Kahlua shook his head.

"I see," the smaller man said softly, tucking his head up under Kahlua's chin. "I'm glad, then."

They lay there silently for several more minutes, but they finally sat up and made ready for the day. Lady Kanure and Lords Sacher and Charlotte would begin to wonder if they didn't show up.

I wonder if they know about us as a pair, Chiffon thought absently. Truth be told, he didn't doubt it at all. Sacher was uncannily observant, Kanure would probably have heard it from him, and Charlotte had the unsettling habit of knowing things he wasn't supposed to know.

"Come, Chiffon," Kahlua said when they had both dressed. "It is time we saw to our duties to our lady and lords."

Chiffon nodded and followed his taller lover out of the room. He was beside this man every day, knew his deepest and darkest secrets, and had given up his own secrets at Kahlua's gentle coaxing. He knew Kahlua more than he probably knew himself, and such closeness only strengthened their bond. Many people grow to dislike or even hate those they are around so much of the time, but not so here.

I love you, Kahlua Liquor, he thought, a soft smile on his lips. I'll cherish every moment we're together for as long as I live.

Owari

Author's Notes: Hmm…got a little longer than I expected, but still pointless fluff. I like to write stream-of-thought fics like this every once in a while. In fact, one of the last chapters of "Separate Destinies", my epic Kingdom Hearts fanfic that I just recently finished, was like this, only it was from three different people instead of just one. It felt really good to write something light for a change. A lot of my fanfiction is emotionally charged and dramatic, so this was a nice change of pace. It was also nice to write something than didn't have a particular plot, so I didn't have to worry about if it had a sensible direction or not. Since this took place entirely inside Chiffon's thoughts, I could let it wander freely like the human mind often does. I know my own thought process isn't exactly smooth flowing. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think in a review or an email, onegai shimasu!