Lys
I know I should be working on "Reaching You", but this just popped into my head. Inspired by my baking misadventures.
Feedback loved more than cookies.
=+=+=+=
"A half teaspoon of….what? Vanilla Extract? What the hell is that?"
Muttering to himself Hisoka shuffled around the apartment's kitchen, opening cupboards in search of the illusive ingredient. After several minutes he emerged from the small pantry with a bottle of dark liquid, placing it on the counter and stepping back to survey the seemingly odd variety of items. Frowning slightly he looked again at the recipe clenched in his hand, mentally going over the instructions. Shouldn't be too hard, right? It wasn't like he hadn't done this before…
Well, thinking back, maybe it was the first time. Why would he ever have been possessed to bake something? Especially chocolate chip cookies, of all things.
But that had been before a certain childish sweet-loving idiot had come into his life.
…Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that the idiot had made him get a life.
So here he was, standing hand-on hip in front of various bags, bowls and bottles, trying to figure out just how to go about this… this baking.
Maybe I should have just bought the ready-made dough…
But hadn't he wanted to do something special? Something that would make those violet eyes light up with happiness? That moron was always bugging him about the holiday spirit, after all.
With a sigh Hisoka began to measure and mix, questioning his own sanity softly under his breath.
=+=+=+=
"Hisoka, I'm home!"
The cheerful voice echoed through the quiet apartment as Tsuzuki toed off his shoes, one hand braced on the doorway for support. Frowning slightly he sniffed the air, a warm scent invading his senses. "Hisoka? Hisoka, are you home?"
A slightly muffled reply alerted Tsuzuki to his partner's presence. Following the sound of the voice he wandered into the kitchen, peering into the doorway to see what was going on.
It looked like a whirlwind had hit the room, or a small tornado at least. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink and the counter was dusted white from flower. Stuck to the floor and some of the walls was what looked like bits of dough. In the middle of it all stood Hisoka, an apron all together too large for his thin frame just hanging off him, smeared liberally with the same mess that littered the kitchen. Green eyes were fixed at some point of interest on the floor, and his pale hands held a plate of large, slightly burnt, chocolate chip cookies.
"Tsu…Tsuzuki? I… made these. For you." Silently the boy thrust the plate at the older man, missing the slightly surprised look he received, as he was still not meeting the other's eyes. "I'm sorry; I know I made a mess of the kitchen, and they're probably not any good, and…"
Hisoka trailed off into silence as he felt the plate being removed from his hands, but instead of the sounds of eating that he expected, the green-eyed Shinigami found himself pulled into warm arms, soft lips brushing feather-light over his hair. Then ever so softly,
"Hisoka… thank you."
Somehow those three words managed to convey a deeper meaning between the two. Hisoka looked up to see a pair of smiling violet eyes and felt the corners of his mouth quirk up in response. Suddenly it all seemed very worthwhile…
And when both their eyes slid closed and their lips met, he knew that Tsuzuki understood what his words couldn't say.
...Oh, yeah. And the cookies were good too.
End.