Author Notes: This was written for a request at the ficondemand communityon Livejournal.
The requirements were:
Fandom: Any, I can't think of a particular one.
Pairing: Any.
Theme: Bad food. Maybe the expiry date has passed, or someone is a horrible cook. Or it's alive and evil. It's up to you.
And, put somewhere at least one of the following:
"What? That's moving?"
"No! Don't bite that!"
"I thought it/he/she wasn't breathing."
This story features SHOUNEN-AI, otherwise known as guyxguy relationships. You don't like, than you can leave. Pairings are RenjixIchigo.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, it all belongs to the genius, Kubo Tite.
A Cake for Ichigo
Kurosaki Ichigo woke to the distinct smell of burning tin foil and the sounds of an accident already occurring. It was too early for this type of ruckus, especially after his nearly all-night hollow run. He was ready to kick the ass of whoever was disturbing the peace of the house, whether it was Karin, Yuzu, or his father. Well, technically, he would just yell some sort of complaint at his two sisters, but his father was a different matter. Ichigo made his anger apparent as he bounded down the stairs making sure each of his steps echoed through the house.
"Who the hell is cooking at seven o' clock in the morning?" he growled, gliding through the entrance of the kitchen.
What he saw nearly made his jaw drop in a mixture of astonishment and anger. In the middle of the kitchen stood Abarai Renji, donned in a chef's hat and apron on top of his normal shinigami kimono. A pan was between his gloved hands, and a substance that Ichigo guessed was batter was flowing down its edges and landing in a pool on the floor.
"Why are you in my house, Renji? Also, what in the name of Soul Society are you doing?" questioned Ichigo, though he already had a sense of what his answer would be.
"Baking a cake, what else does it look like I'm doing?" he shot back, challenging Ichigo's coarse tone.
"Cake? That thing is a cake? It looks more like a pan of burned mud." he blanched, "You still haven't answered my question of why you're in my house!"
"I'm here to visit Rukia, but it seemed as she wasn't up yet, so I decided to entertain myself with some of your stupid human pastimes."
"So, who's going to clean up this mess, eh? When I say mess, I mean the cake too."
"Haha. You think you're so funny, Kurosaki," Renji snorted, shooting Ichigo a nonchalant gaze, "…and about who's going to clean it up, you of course. Oh, and you're going to eat it too."
"What? Are you trying to murder me?" yelled Ichigo, his face twitching at Renji's ghastly creation.
"Perhaps I am."
"Oh, that makes me feel so much better."
Renji eased the pan over to the kitchen table, setting it upon a placemat. An accomplished look was set upon his face, blatantly unaware of how his cake was the epitome of a cooking disaster. Ichigo thought silently about how that American chef Emeril Lagasse would react if he saw this--probably would collapse to the ground in a series of seizures.
Ichigo forced himself into one of the chairs, his stomach already doing somersaults within his abdomen. He watched the discolored mound of dough wobble suspiciously before poking it with a fork.
"What? That's moving?" he wondered, noticing the deep glare Renji sent him as he joined him at the table.
Renji dragged a knife along the cake, not noticing the oil that seemed to puss out as he made the cut. Taking a plate he had brought, Renji quickly dumped a plethora of cake upon the white china. Gazing, he waited for Ichigo to taste his creation.
"To hell, I'm not eating that crap," sputtered Ichigo, flinging his fork halfway across the kitchen.
"Unlike you, Ichigo, I have balls." Renji shook his head as he laughed softly, reaching for his own fork.
Sending the three metal prongs into the gooey cake, he lifted it up to his mouth, making sure to open his slowly and sensually. Renji knew how to drive hormones wild with the simplest things, and Ichigo was the perfect victim for his moves. Other than the scarlet blush that was starting to form on his face, Ichigo would have found himself with a hard on if Renji were eating something more enjoyable.
Common sense finally dawned on Ichigo as he realized the danger Renji could possibly be putting himself in by eating this dangerous attempt at a cake. Why he cared so much for this smart-assed shinigami was unbeknownst to him.
No! Don't bite that!"
The warning came too late, for the cake had already passed through Renji's mouth and down his throat. Ichigo swallowed nervously as he stared at Renji for any sort of abnormal reaction. Everything seemed fine until he noticed Renji's eyes rolling back slowly into his head. Ichigo bolted out of his seat in an effort to catch Renji's body, which was currently sliding out of the chair.
Ichigo glanced anxiously over the now comatose Renji, too flustered to actually think in an intelligent manner. After suppressing his nerves, he moved a finger to lie over Renji's pulse, hoping to find he was still alive.
He felt nothing.
Ichigo's heartbeat quickened as he realized that Renji could actually be dead--well… dead again. He checked his pulse once more, only to realize there was actually a beat--a slight one, but one nonetheless. Ichigo then realized with a deep blush what was now required of him.
Crap… mouth-to-mouth with Renji… not good. Oh well, save him now so Rukia won't kill you. You can always throw up later.
Ichigo tried to ignore the sexual signals his hormones were sending to his brain as his lips inched closer to Renji's own. He closed in upon Renji's lips, using his fingers gently to massage his mouth open so that air could reach his throat. With that much accomplished, Ichigo prepared to release his first breath when a strong pair of arms enclosed around his back, sending himself closer against Renji's chest. Harsh, yet somewhat gentle lips slammed against his own, gaining dominance upon his body. Ichigo tried intently to pull his mouth from its current position, but was soon stopped as a hand against the back of his head prevented any type of escape. Ichigo relaxed as he realized that escape was futile--not to mention, he was beginning to enjoy this. He pushed his lips with equal force against Renji's, allowing his tongue to force its way between Renji's lips and deep into his mouth. The two fought one another for dominance, tongues slipping past each other. Ichigo ran his hands through Renji's red mane, feeling the soft texture of the strands slide like silk through his fingers. He could feel Renji's hard on pressed against his stomach, it was apparent that Renji wanted to take this further. Ichigo decided to end this and save other explorations for a later time, seeing as his family could return home at any moment.
"Renji…we have to stop this, right now. My family…" he whispered through the kiss.
Renji nodded, releasing Ichigo from his grip. The two of them lay against one another, both of them silent and unaware of how they were going to actually explain this later on.
"I thought you weren't breathing."
"Heh. I've learned a lot of things at Soul Society. Faking death is one of my favorites."
Brown eyes widened as the realization that he had just made out with Renji sunk in. Ichigo quickly bolted onto his feet, his balance not yet centered as he took a shaky step back.
"I… I... you just kissed me…" he rambled on in a confused tone.
Renji smiled cheekily before pulling himself off the ground.
"If you didn't enjoy it, then I must have been blind. Now, I must get back to my duties."
"I thought you were visiting Rukia?"
Renji merely laughed as he walked towards the door of the house.
"You goddamn trickster! I can't believe I let you touch me!"
The lock clicked as the door was opened, leaving Ichigo fuming as Renji left the house without a word.
"Well, your cake tasted like horse crap!"