Flour and Eggs

Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride or any of James Patterson's wonderful characters.

Summary: Iggy is cooking. Fang is curious.

"Fang? What's wrong? You've been standing there for a while."

Fang blinked, fighting down the heat that was threatening to seep into his cheeks. Up until that moment, he had been unaware that he had been caught causing him to guiltily clear his throat and move into the room.

"Sorry, Ig. I was just seeing what you were doing."

The blind boy raised his eyebrows in surprise. No one in the flock had ever shown interest in watching him cook before. They tended to prefer enjoying the final result with little care as to where the food actually came from.

"Err... alright," he replied. Nervously, he shifted the bag of flour back an inch before returning it, not wanting to make a fool of himself if he were to misjudge the distance when he reached for it later.

Fang jumped up onto the counter on the opposite side of the stove, carefully stretching his wings out behind him. Once he had made himself comfortable, he turned his head and proceeded to study the other boy intently.

Iggy fidgeted nervously under the scrutiny, his own wings flexing on their own accord, before shaking his head, clearing it of all thoughts, and returning to the task at hand.

The next few minutes passed in relative silence, broken only by Iggy's quiet mumbling as he began carefully measuring out ingredients to mix in the large bowl before him. He had just gotten used to the extra presence when he heard a small rustling and the tell-tale sound of a hand being laid on the stove-top. He turned, opening his mouth to ask Fang what he was doing, but the older boy spoke first.

"What are you making?"

His voice came from the spot right beside Iggy's ear, causing his to jump in surprise. A warm hand encircled his upper arm, keeping him steady.

"Sorry," Fang muttered sheepishly.

"It's fine," Iggy reassured, ignoring the sudden jolt of electricity that flowed through him, and getting his bearings back together. Gently extracting his arm from Fang's grip, he lifted the bowl to give Fang a better view of its contents. "I'm making a cake for Nudge's birthday."

Fang hummed in response but made no move to return to his previous place. Confused, Iggy slowly returned the bowl to the counter and waited. When several more moments had passed without Fang's retreat, he turned his body to face the brunette.

"Do you... want to help?"

He heard the thump of feet hitting the linoleum floor, followed quickly by an indifferent, "why not."

Iggy quirked an eyebrow in amusement, then turned to walk to a cabinet across the kitchen.

"You can mix the eggs into the batter while I get the pan ready," he called over his shoulder.

Fang didn't respond. Instead, Iggy heard the egg carton open, followed by the metallic ding of the bowl being hit and the the cracking of an eggshell.

"You need six of them," Iggy said at the sound of the second breaking shell.

"Got it."

Iggy pulled out a large, deep cake pan and sprayed it with non-stick cooking spray. He was about to turn around and carry the pan to the stove when a loud crash and breathless, "oof" from Fang's direction stopped him.

Whipping around, he rushed forward, a worried, "what happened?" spilling from his lips. He had only made it three steps when his feet slipped out from under him, causing him to tumble forwards.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Iggy braced himself for the impact with the floor that never happened. Instead, he found himself sprawled gracelessly on top of a groaning Fang, face tucked safely into the crook of his neck.

"Ugh," he grunted, attempting to push himself up. Wings completely forgotten in the ridiculousness of the situation, he succeeded in getting to his hands and knees only to have his palms slip on the slimy floor making him flop onto Fang again.

Giving up, he lifted his head enough to hold above Fang's and asked, "What happened?"

Fang let out a low chuckle. "I dropped the eggs and flour when I went to put them away." Lifting his hand, he wiped a stripe of the mixture across Iggy's grimacing face.

"I am never letting you cook again," Iggy declared. He gave the brunette a stern gaze, but the effect was lost on Fang who had spotted a small dot of mix on Iggy's lower lip.

Unconsciously, he lifted his thumb to wipe it away, not noticing the blond's sharp intake of breath.

"Fang?" Iggy's voice came out as a whisper. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but before he could question the brunette further, a warm pair of lips pushed up against his own and a hand curled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Shocked, Iggy could do little more than lay there for the first few heartbeats. Slowly, he could feel his body responding and promptly melted into the kiss, bringing his own hands to cup Fang's face.

A light pressure on his hip from Fang's free hand caused a shiver to run up Iggy's spine, and he gently broke the kiss to take in a much needed gulp of air. Beneath his fingers he could feel Fang smiling and let a shy grin of his own surface.

His grin soon morphed into a full blown smirk.

"You know, this doesn't mean I'm going to let you help me cook again. I stand by my earlier statement."

Fang laughed. "I know," he said, then he pulled Iggy's face back down to his own and kissed him again.