Rating: R.
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: None.
Notes: Part ten of the "Impatience" arc... where it starts to become a little more adult. (Also, again with the omake!) Enjoy! (Find previous parts at a href"http/www.txq.nu/jumpyboys"Jumpy Boys/a)
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Hikaru stretched his arms above his head and tied on his apron. "Apron on, Akira. You can't learn to cook if you're busy washing egg off your pants."
Glaring at Hikaru for a moment, Akira tied on his own apron and stood next to Hikaru, waiting for the other man to teach him how to cook, a move that was in response to Akira setting the toaster oven on fire in an attempt to make toast. "Okay, Hikaru. I'm ready."
"You're learning to make scrambled eggs and toast, first. They're easy." Hikaru gestured to all of the items in front of him: a large pan, a spatula, a bowl, a whisk, several eggs, milk, salt, butter, bread, and the toaster. It seemed a daunting task to Akira already.
"Okay, first thing's first... crack the eggs into the bowl. Here, watch." Hikaru tapped an egg against the counter firmly and opened it into the bowl. "See? It's easy. You try it."
Akira grabbed one of the eggs, and held it in one hand, then hit it against the counter. It clinked, but did not crack. He hit it harder and it cracked ineffectually. "It didn't... finish?"
Hikaru laughed. "Turn it a bit and do it again." Akira followed the instructions and successfully opened the egg into the bowl. "Okay, now add in some milk. Pour it slowly until it takes up about 4 moku of territory."
Akira appreciated instructions he could understand, and did just so.
"Grab the whisk and mix the eggs and milk until it's all one color." While Akira did that, Hikaru smiled at him and appreciated the way the apron, open in back, emphasized certain parts of his anatomy.
Turning the bowl a bit to show Hikaru, Akira asked, "Like this?"
Hikaru nodded and pointed to the frying pan. "Put that on the stove and turn the heat to medium. Put in about as much butter as you would put on a piece of toast." He looked at the small dollop that Akira added to the pan. "Okay, maybe the amount that I put on my toast... about twice that." Akira did so and looked to Hikaru for instructions again.
"Add a shake of salt to the eggs and mix it again quickly and pour it in the pan." Akira raised an eyebrow. "If you add the salt too soon it can denature the eggs."
Akira laughed. "You have been watching the Cooking Channel, haven't you?"
Hikaru raised an eyebrow. "Was it that obvious?"
"I, uh, overheard you talking to Isumi last night."
"Oh?" Hikaru froze for a moment. "Pick up the spatula and start stirring the eggs in the pan."
Akira did so. "I'm really glad you like the apron."
"How much did you hear of what I was saying to Isumi?"
"Not a lot, really." Akira watched the scrambled eggs begin to take form. "But it was all very sweet. I'm glad to know what you think of me."
"I love you."
Akira stopped stirring and looked up at him. "I think I just might love you, too. At the very least, I think I could handle spending the rest of my life with you."
Hikaru cleared his throat. "Keep at the eggs." He leaned against the counter. "I know you're not just saying that, but what prompted it?"
"Because this morning when I destroyed the toaster oven, you didn't freak out. You hugged me and kissed my forehead and told me that today we'd start my cooking lessons. You were more worried about me than the toaster oven. When I broke the switch on Ogata's toaster he practically kicked me out of his house... and we hadn't even played go yet!"
"Maybe I should make the toast, then. You obviously have no talent for it." Hikaru laughed and stood behind Akira, one hand resting on his hip and the other guiding Akira's spatula hand, folding the eggs over and over. "There. Done." He released Akira's hand. "Turn off the burner and set the eggs aside. The residual heat will finish the cooking."
Akira leaned back against Hikaru when that was finished. "And the toast?"
Hikaru leaned forward and kissed Akira's neck, inhaling deeply and letting it out as a soft sigh. "I don't care about toast right now. I'm too busy wanting to kiss you."
Turning so that his back was to the stove, Akira looked at Hikaru closely. "The eggs will get cold."
"Let them. They're practice eggs. We've already eaten."
Akira's eyes fluttered shut as Hikaru advanced on him, pressing soft lips to his own and pulling him close. He murmured against Hikaru's lips, "Help me clean up later?"
Hikaru nodded. "Definitely."
"Then let's go into another room. No distractions." Akira reached up and tucked a tuft of Hikaru's hair behind his ear.
Hikaru shivered and kissed Akira deeply. "Come on." He practically dragged Akira into the living room and sat him down on the couch before straddling his lap and laying more kisses on Akira's lips.
Akira grasped at Hikaru's shirt and pulled the other boy a bit further down on top of him. "You and that stupid apron." He untied Hikaru's apron and pulled it off of him, doing the same to him own, throwing them both on the floor as he made a mental note to pick them up later.
Lust evident in his eyes and elsewhere, Hikaru continued to kiss Akira's lips, sometimes moving to nibble at the other man's ear lobe or bite gently at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, or catch his bottom lip on Akira's Adam's apple as he traced his way up Akira's arched neck. Akira, for his part, did a lot of clutching and soft moaning and arching of his neck and panting into Hikaru's ear, something that seemed to drive the other man to distraction.
Hikaru deepened his kisses with Akira, letting his tongue flicker just into Akira's mouth. Akira parted his lips and allowed Hikaru entrance, tangling his own tongue with Hikaru's as Hikaru's deft fingers unbuttoned his shirt and traced along his ribs. He pulled away to look at Akira. "You're a skinny little thing. I need to make dessert for you more often."
Akira rolled his eyes. "I don't care how skinny you think I am. You are not obligated to make me into the next Kurata."
Hikaru slid off Akira's lap and onto the floor, positioning himself between Akira's knees and pressing kisses to Akira's bare stomach. "No, nothing like that. Just so I don't think I'm going to break you."
"Ah!" Akira gasped as Hikaru licked his navel, and spread his legs a big further. "You won't break me. I'm that strong, at least."
Lips finally still, Hikaru's fingers worked the button of Akira's pants, pulling the zipper down as well. "I love you," Hikaru murmured to Akira, looking him in the eyes, before turning his face down to kiss the evidence of Akira's arousal through his boxers. He looked up again. "Are you okay with this?"
His bottom lip trembling slightly, his hands clutching at his knees, Akira nodded and turned his head away. "Yeah... just a little nervous."
Hikaru kissed Akira's stomach again and then started a trail of kisses leading downward, pausing at the top of Akira's boxers to hook a finger there and pull out and down as he continued with his kisses. Akira's breathing was rapidly speeding up, and his knuckles were turning white from the force with which he was clutching at his knees. "Ah, Hi- Hikaru."
Running his tongue lightly along the underside of Akira's cock, Hikaru raised one hand to release Akira's grip and to entwine his own hand with Akira's. Akira gasped loudly, and it was much different from the gasp that his book had elicited the previous day.
Hikaru took great care to make Akira comfortable. He used his lips and tongue to great effect, lingering anywhere that made Akira whimper. He had to concentrate to keep himself from smiling too much and thereby being unable to keep up this constant stream of kisses and glancing licks.
Akira moved his hands to Hikaru's shoulders. They caught at the ends of his hair and Akira's thumbs stroked along his jaw even as he opened his mouth and took Akira inside, feeling the heated throb of him along his tongue.
With a keening wail, Akira's knees drew up toward his chest a bit and his hands moved to Hikaru's hair, fisting where the black hair turned to blonde. "Oh god! Oh god, oh! Hikaru..." He was panting and moaning and arching his back and neck with his head turning one way and the other as he fought to gain control over his actions again.
Enjoying the feel of Akira inside of his mouth, Hikaru tasted him and teased him and drove himself crazy in the process. Akira was beautiful like this: passionate and trusting and wanton with beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he clutched at Hikaru's hair and bit his bottom lip to keep from being too loud.
It took very little time at all for Akira's eyes to shut tight and his knees to tremble as he cried out in abandon and released his seed into Hikaru's mouth. It certainly took no more time than cooking scrambled eggs.
Hikaru pulled away slightly as he felt Akira tense, and was glad of it as his mouth filled with salty come. He swallowed it quickly, but not before a little trickle made its way out of the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away with his finger and reached across the floor to wipe it on his apron. He came back and, taking a deep breath, allowed his head to rest against one of Akira's knees.
Akira, himself, was shaky and unsure. "Hikaru?"
Looking up, Hikaru grabbed Akira's knee (the one he wasn't laying his head on) and squeezed it gently. "Yes?"
"That changes everything, doesn't it?"
"Not really," Hikaru mumbled. He pursed his lips a few times, working out the ache that had formed in them. "It just changes what we do in our spare time."
Akira laughed in exhaustion. "That was a blow job, wasn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Where did you learn?" There was a hint of something in Akira's voice that, to Hikaru, hinted at jealousy.
Hikaru laughed and turned his head to kiss Akira's knee before pulling up the other man's boxers. "In my dreams... the really good ones."
Akira caught Hikaru's gaze, his eyes softening somewhat. "So, there's never been anyone else?"
Picking himself up, Hikaru brought himself to the full height he could be at on his knees, looking directly at Akira. "You're the only one I've ever had feelings like this for, ever. I wasn't going to go and spoil them." He quirked his head to one side. "And you?"
Akira laughed. "My life has always been about go. I can't say there was never time for anything else... just that I never made time for it."
"Until now," Hikaru added.
Akira reached out to trace his fingers along Hikaru's lips. "Until you."
Hikaru stood up suddenly and retrieved the aprons from the floor. "Hey, how about we do some laundry? I think we've got enough for a few loads, now."
"Hikaru?"
Turning to Akira, Hikaru clutched the aprons in his hands. "Speed go, then?"
Akira blushed. "I can... maybe do something about that?"
"No. I... I don't think you're ready yet." Hikaru let the hands fall to his sides, each clutching one apron.
Akira's blush deepened. "Let me just go get, um, cleaned up?"
Later that day, Ashiwara called him. He had several things to talk about. First, what did he know about that pretty girl from the go party? Second, what kind of chances did he think that Ogata-sensei had of holding on to the Tengen title again? Third, what was he thinking missing a shidougo session when a very busy Ashiwara was next on the call list?
Akira recalled the events of the day, blushing again, and decided that being yelled at by Ashiwara, who wasn't even mean to dogs who bit him, was definitely more than a fair trade-off for the day.
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Owari.
SPECIAL BONUS OMAKE:
-----Cold Shower----- a drabble
Hikaru's eyes were wide as he stood in the shower. He had given Akira head. He could still taste the other man in his mouth, picture his expressions, hear his moans, feel his hands tangled in his hair, sense the man crossing the line from passive to passive-aggressive... And, god, but he wanted it again. He wanted to splay Akira across their side-by-side futons and kiss up his bare thighs and spend his night there, in the echoes of Akira's breathy moans and the fumblings of his own eager fingers. But this was not the time. Hikaru turned the hot water off and felt his teeth begin to chatter a moment later as the cold water sent its icy chill down his body. Hikaru turned off the water and grabbed for the last towel in the bathroom, a thankfully-large pink handtowel. This was all the more reason for them to do laundry.