.: O N E :.
.: CINNAMON FLAVOR :.
It's Luigi's birthday today, January twenty first and can't help but feel old. He's only twenty one years old though and that's defiantly younger then Mario is, whose age will not be mentioned because if it was, it would be guaranteed that Luigi will be stabbed a hundred times with a spork. Luigi hopes that this day will be over soon, in his mind he's still twenty and as soon as his head hits his pillow, he'll forget this day ever happened. In the kitchen, Mario is baking a cake made out of vanilla icing and cinnamon and Luigi doesn't have the heart to tell him he hates cinnamon.
It's a good thing that Mario didn't set up a party or anything, oh god that's actually a great thing, the last thing he wants is people sitting around him and singing happy birthday off key and reminding him that he's getting older now. Luigi twirls the plastic wax 21 in between his fingers and he would go into the kitchen to give it to Mario, if his legs weren't so against moving at all today. Birthdays make him feel sluggish, even if it isn't his birthday, he just thinks that all birthdays suck.
Mario doesn't seem like he feels that way.
Luigi can hear him from the living room, humming a tune loudly that Luigi's not familiar with, pouring the cake batter into a several cake pans. What? Layered cake? But Luigi doesn't want layered cake, he hates it, especially vanilla and cinnamon, ew. But Mario hardly ever cooks, or bakes, he doesn't even spend time in the kitchen and for him to actually cook something for Luigi is kind of sweet, sweet gestures from Mario being especially rare.
"Luigi, can you come in here?" Mario shouts from the kitchen. Luigi can smell the sickly sweet smell coming from underneath the swinging door, it's too strong he decides. Luigi walks in and Mario looks at him questionably, seeing that Luigi has pinched his nose. Luigi eyes Mario up-and-down, he's wearing an dainty apron that looks like it might belong to Princess Peach. Luigi stifles a laugh and Mario smacks him with the spatula he's holding. "Shut up!" He spats at Luigi venomously.
Luigi walks over to the oven, leaning over and examining the pastry closely, the cream turning into fluff and bubbiling up nicely. Still doesn's look very appealing though and Mario can tell that Luigi thinks that because of the obvious look on his face.
"I'm sure it'll taste great when it comes out." Mario says cheerily, reaching over and pulling Luigi away from the oven. Luigi looks at him doubtfully, Mario tilts his head and pouts, hands still resting on Luigi's shoulders.
"I told you I hated cinnamon." Luigi deadpans.
"You didn't tell me anything!" Mario defends lamely and Luigi raises an eyebrow at him. "I asked you what you wanted at least a thousand times, each time you told me you didn't care." Luigi looks away from him, shrugging his shoulders and Mario sighs in exasperation. "Twenty one isn't that old." Mario says finally.
Another shrug.
"I'm not in the 'party mood'." Luigi says, tone slightly annoyed as he makes air quotes with his hands around the sentence. Mario frowns, happy mood shattered under Luigi's gloomy aura, Mario hears the oven making annoying beeping sounds. The cake is done. Mario opens the oven door slowly, pulling the cake out and Luigi stares at it with disdain. "Do-not-want." Luigi squeaks, backing up as Mario cuts a slice and sets in on the plate, sliding it over to him. Mario glares at him, his patience growing thin. Mario scoops up the brown icing with his finger, licking it off and Luigi stares at him with rising suspicion.
Abruptly, Mario reaches over from the counter and yanks Luigi by his collar, smashing their lips together. Luigi's eyes widen, a huge blush unfolding across his face and Mario stands on his tip-toes, pulling Luigi a little more towards him.
And Luigi may not like cinnamon, but it defiantly tastes better in Mario's mouth.
mouth-to-mouth transfer. yum. :D
