Untitled Ten-chan/Tetsu fic
pie: WRITE
pie: write fluffy gen
Christi: but i am le tired
Christi: XD
pie: or sap
pie: or wafff
Christi: GIVE ME A PROMPT
pie: CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
"Whatcha making?"
Tetsu nearly breaks the wooden spoon in his hand at the interruption. He doesn't have to look up from the mixing bowl to see Ten-chan's coy grin looking down at him from the shelf above; he can see it in his mind all too easily.
"The hell are you doing up there, fox brat? ... cookies."
Ten-chan closes his eyes and smiles in that unnerving way, as if masking whatever keeping them open might betray. The shelf is barely large enough for him to be sprawled out on his front, and his shoulders stick out, threatening to propel his torso right down on top of the counter.
"What kind?"
Tetsu grunts and continues mixing. "Chocolate chip. Answer my question."
Ten-chan opens his eyes, as if the coast is clear, and watches Tetsu closely. "I'm just hanging out. The smell lured me in."
His eye twitches. "How the hell did you get up there without me noticing -- ugh, never mind."
Ten-chan idly plays with the tail of his braid. "What's the occasion?"
"Dragon brat kept demanding cookies." Tetsu mutters.
Again, he doesn't have to be looking directly at the shape shifter to know what sort of expression he's making. This time it's probably a wide grin, showing off lots of teeth, and maybe one eye closed in a wink.
"That's real cute, T-chan. I didn't know you were so domestic."
He has to move quickly to avoid the sticky gob of sugary dough; unfortunately, the space on the shelf is not very accommodating. It misses his face but not his hair, and he rolls his eyes, still smiling.
Tetsu is pleased with himself. For once, the fox was caught off-guard, and that irritating smirk was starting to disappear. However, it didn't last for very long, and the next thing registering in his mind is the blur of yellow as Ten-chan slides smoothly off the shelf and grabs the mixing bowl, squatting on the counter-top. His grin is as wide as ever.
"Two can play this game, T-chan."
Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is a mess afterwards. Having run out of perishables to use as ammunition, Ten-chan calls a truce. Tetsu begrudgingly agrees. They are sprawled out on the tile, leaning up against the stove, completely drenched in food.
"I'll help you make another batch for the kid later." Ten-chan offers.
"Tch, I don't need your help."
"So you'd rather clean this all up yourself?" He picks a chocolate chip off of Tetsu's shoulder.
"Fuck no, you're cleaning this up too!" Tetsu crosses his arms, and they make a squelching noise from the stickiness clinging to them. Ten-chan is still grinning.
"You'd be stuck in here forever if I didn't. Do you feel any better?"
He doesn't answer at first. He knows Ten-chan is a calculating and perceptive individual, and it annoys the shit out of him. He doesn't want to give the fox brat that satisfaction, even though he likely already had it.
"I'd feel better if I had some fried fox to munch on."
Idly, Ten-chan thinks it must be strange that he's gotten used to these kind of underhanded threats. He smiles.
"What, you want to taste me that badly?"
This time, he lets the dough connect with his arm, shielding himself uselessly. "GO TO HELL, YOU PERVERTED FOX!"
Once Tetsu's fuming has subsided a little, Ten-chan glances up; the ceiling fan has cheese whiz sprayed across it. He sits there, messy and disheveled, and makes no move to start cleaning up.
It's not so bad, he thinks. This is the kind of life they could both get used to, and it might be good for T-chan, as a way to recover from leaving Los Angeles. If Ten-chan can distract him from feeling those pangs of regret, what's a mess or two in comparison? Of course it's more complicated than that, but at least when Tetsu is chasing him around Camp and threatening to skewer him, that distant look he gets sometimes isn't as worrying.
So when he kisses Tetsu -- brief, of course, and barely a peck -- and scampers out the door before Tetsu can register what just happened -- he consoles himself with the fact that at least he's getting some exercise.
pie: write fluffy gen
Christi: but i am le tired
Christi: XD
pie: or sap
pie: or wafff
Christi: GIVE ME A PROMPT
pie: CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
"Whatcha making?"
Tetsu nearly breaks the wooden spoon in his hand at the interruption. He doesn't have to look up from the mixing bowl to see Ten-chan's coy grin looking down at him from the shelf above; he can see it in his mind all too easily.
"The hell are you doing up there, fox brat? ... cookies."
Ten-chan closes his eyes and smiles in that unnerving way, as if masking whatever keeping them open might betray. The shelf is barely large enough for him to be sprawled out on his front, and his shoulders stick out, threatening to propel his torso right down on top of the counter.
"What kind?"
Tetsu grunts and continues mixing. "Chocolate chip. Answer my question."
Ten-chan opens his eyes, as if the coast is clear, and watches Tetsu closely. "I'm just hanging out. The smell lured me in."
His eye twitches. "How the hell did you get up there without me noticing -- ugh, never mind."
Ten-chan idly plays with the tail of his braid. "What's the occasion?"
"Dragon brat kept demanding cookies." Tetsu mutters.
Again, he doesn't have to be looking directly at the shape shifter to know what sort of expression he's making. This time it's probably a wide grin, showing off lots of teeth, and maybe one eye closed in a wink.
"That's real cute, T-chan. I didn't know you were so domestic."
He has to move quickly to avoid the sticky gob of sugary dough; unfortunately, the space on the shelf is not very accommodating. It misses his face but not his hair, and he rolls his eyes, still smiling.
Tetsu is pleased with himself. For once, the fox was caught off-guard, and that irritating smirk was starting to disappear. However, it didn't last for very long, and the next thing registering in his mind is the blur of yellow as Ten-chan slides smoothly off the shelf and grabs the mixing bowl, squatting on the counter-top. His grin is as wide as ever.
"Two can play this game, T-chan."
Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is a mess afterwards. Having run out of perishables to use as ammunition, Ten-chan calls a truce. Tetsu begrudgingly agrees. They are sprawled out on the tile, leaning up against the stove, completely drenched in food.
"I'll help you make another batch for the kid later." Ten-chan offers.
"Tch, I don't need your help."
"So you'd rather clean this all up yourself?" He picks a chocolate chip off of Tetsu's shoulder.
"Fuck no, you're cleaning this up too!" Tetsu crosses his arms, and they make a squelching noise from the stickiness clinging to them. Ten-chan is still grinning.
"You'd be stuck in here forever if I didn't. Do you feel any better?"
He doesn't answer at first. He knows Ten-chan is a calculating and perceptive individual, and it annoys the shit out of him. He doesn't want to give the fox brat that satisfaction, even though he likely already had it.
"I'd feel better if I had some fried fox to munch on."
Idly, Ten-chan thinks it must be strange that he's gotten used to these kind of underhanded threats. He smiles.
"What, you want to taste me that badly?"
This time, he lets the dough connect with his arm, shielding himself uselessly. "GO TO HELL, YOU PERVERTED FOX!"
Once Tetsu's fuming has subsided a little, Ten-chan glances up; the ceiling fan has cheese whiz sprayed across it. He sits there, messy and disheveled, and makes no move to start cleaning up.
It's not so bad, he thinks. This is the kind of life they could both get used to, and it might be good for T-chan, as a way to recover from leaving Los Angeles. If Ten-chan can distract him from feeling those pangs of regret, what's a mess or two in comparison? Of course it's more complicated than that, but at least when Tetsu is chasing him around Camp and threatening to skewer him, that distant look he gets sometimes isn't as worrying.
So when he kisses Tetsu -- brief, of course, and barely a peck -- and scampers out the door before Tetsu can register what just happened -- he consoles himself with the fact that at least he's getting some exercise.