[Log] Aizen, Gin

[lcpdragonslayer]

Title: Happy Birthday, Apple Pie! (Part 2)
Characters: Sousuke Aizen (lcpdragonslayer), Gin Ichimaru (formative)
Timeline: May 29, 2007
Rating: PG-13~R
Summary: Gin tries to do something special for Aizen's birthday.

The CEO watched idly as the paper went into the fax machine and came back out again, waiting until he got a confirmation of receipt in the form of a text message before heading back upstairs to the kitchen. Gin was fiddling with a wine bottle, and it looked rather dangerous.

“I’ll do that,” he said, and he placed his blackberry down onto the counter before stepping over to Gin, taking the corkscrew and the bottle from the publicist, his hands brushing over Gin’s casually. He took off all of the wrapping off the top of the bottle and twisted the corkscrew in to the cork, using the lever to pop the bottle open within a few seconds.

“Maybe next time we should buy wine with screwcap lids,” Aizen suggested as he got out a couple of glasses to pour the wine in.

“And, yes, those shirts in the cupboard are for you. I never had the opportunity to pass them to you when I bought them, so I left them there for you to wear at your leisure.”

“Like we’d touch one of those.” Gin mumbled, flexing his hand and added ‘regular corkscrew’ to the list of items that this kitchen needed. Slouching on one of the stools, he pushed the plates around, arranging them on an invisible straight line.

“Think yer done with work for today?” The publicist propped his elbow on the counter and planted his chin in the palm of his hand.

“Ain’t gonna model for ya if we get interrupted every two minutes. Spoils the mood,” he added, reaching for one of the glasses.

Nothing was wrong with screwcap bottle wines. The wine was not being aged, and there was barely any difference in the taste. It was much safer than Gin struggling with a corkscrew.

“I don’t know, Gin. I might get a call in the next few minutes, or I might not get one until I get in to work tomorrow. It all depends on how soon peoples’ incompetencies catch up with them.”

He took up a seat on the stool next to Gin’s, taking a sip of wine before he properly eyed up his meal. Picking up the cutlery, he tried a cube of potato.

“Looks like you bought half the supermarket to prepare this,” Aizen said. If Gin was going to cook more often, maybe the CEO would consider stocking up his kitchen with actual, fresh food.

“I must say I’m impressed,” he added, taking another sip of the wine. “It doesn’t taste all too bad, and I don’t feel sick yet.”

“Wow, yer confidence in my cookin’ skills makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, dahlin’.” Gin took a large gulp of wine and attacked his lobster, slicing it into small pieces. Something was missing, though. Something vital…

Slipping off of his stool, the publicist fetched the mayonnaise and returned to Aizen’s side. He put a large blob of it onto his plate and licked off the spoon. His gazes strayed towards the shiny blackberry on the counter. People’s incompetence…

It’s his birthday, it’s his birthday, birthday…

The blond speared a lump of lobster tail, dragged it through the white blob and lifted it to his mouth. “What did yer cute secretary give ya? A sweet lil cake made with lotsa luv or a nice... somethin’ rubbin’?” he asked, keeping his tone conversational.

Aizen’s gaze followed Gin’s to the blackberry sitting idly on the table, and after a few seconds, he reached over for his phone and slipped it into his pocket. Replacing his blackberry and importing all his contacts was not something he particularly enjoyed doing.

“It was nowhere as exciting as the gift you got me for Christmas,” Aizen remarked, casting a gaze over his shoulder to the lime green beanbag next to the table. How Gin managed to fathom getting something like that was beyond the CEO - Gin’s attempt at giftwrapping it - and why would he feel the need to giftwrap a beanbag in the first place - had also been most… intriguing. He could not exactly remember why he decided to keep that abhorrent, out-of-place lump in his living room, but he could not bear to throw it out now. Gin would probably kick up a fuss if he did anyway.

“It was rather cute actually,” he said as he ate another piece of lobster. “She gave me a mug with a little stuffed animal inside. I left it in the office though - I have enough cups here anyway.”

With temptation removed Gin was able to focus on his meal again and happily shoved a pile of potato salad onto his fork, adding a dash of mayonnaise to it. The Christmas gift. Ah, yes, the Christmas gift. He was really fond of that beanbag, all big and squishy and unresisting - good for the back, too.

“A mug with… a stuffed animal inside?” The publicist repeated slowly, blinking a couple of times, fork frozen in midair. Was that the best the young ones could come up with these days? A piece of pottery and a toy? It was so unbelievably trite. Unless…

“Is that some secret secretary code I don’t know for somethin’ I don’t get?”

The blond realised that he was probably reading too much into an innocent and harmless little present but it couldn’t hurt to ask. Why he was so interested in that silly brunette girl? No reason. He was just making conversation. Showing interest in Aizen’s… work day.

Suuuure. Keep telling yourself that, Gin."

Hm? Secret secretary code? Well if it is, I am unaware of it... I thought it was rather... interesting, at any rate. The little stuffed animal could be friends with Mr. Bear."

Aizen chewed on a wedge of potato thoughtfully. Secret secretary code... Well, she seemed to be rather fond of... many things that would be considered 'cute' by some standard. The CEO had always kept his birthday rather low-key even if most of the office knew when it was, spending it like any other day. He had even forgotten it on some years.

It was... almost refreshing, really, to have Gin come by and do something like this for him. In a life so busy with work, having to be somewhere else five, ten, twenty minutes ago, talking on the phone while sending an e-mail out, receiving a fax and looking through paperwork, he barely had the time to stop and breathe. And when they did try that, taking that weekend off in Rome on Gin's birthday, it proved to be an almost fatal mistake that would be best not experienced again.

But, given the chance to do it all over again, he certainly would. The consequences were disastrous, but the time he spent with Gin in Rome sightseeing, talking, idly ambling down the streets - it was as if they had been granted the opportunity to step out of life for a moment and relish in a little fantasy world; a world of similarities and differences, a world he would have liked to spend a little more time in with Gin.

Perhaps it was something they could consider doing this year. Not leaving the phone off, of course, but... going somewhere again for anything other than a business trip would be nice.

"So, you took the day off just to do this, I presume? Would it not have been easier to make a dinner reservation or buy some takeaways?"

“Oh, yes.” Gin ferried the last piece of lobster into his mouth and grinned cheerfully at Aizen. Of course, he could have made a reservation at a fancy restaurant or ordered some takeaways but that was something they did all the time. Every. Single. Day.

“It would’ve been so much easier ‘n much safer for yer kitchen.” The blond paused to pile the last bits of potato salad onto his fork, making his knife screech across the plate, “I don’t like to go fer easy outside of work. Easy’s borin’ ‘n we don’t like borin’ stuff.”

Laughing softly, the publicist slid off his stool and carried his plate to the sink. Time to get the main dish started. He set a pot with water on the stove, remembering to turn on the heat this time, and retrieved the remains of the lobster’s hubby from the refrigerator before he returned to the counter.

“Missed me at work?” he asked lightly, leaning his hip against the edge and picked up his wine. It was a dumb question really. Aizen had probably managed to get more work done without Gin pestering him with mindless emails, random calls and surprise visits all the time.

Now that he thought about it, the blond wondered whether the CEO’s always leaving the office late was related to that…

“A little,” Aizen replied, chewing on a piece of lobster absentmindedly. To be honest, it was because Gin was not around all day that he could actually get home this early. Increasingly he found himself spending the later hours of the evening in the office finishing up his work because of his and Gin’s three-hour lunchtime adventures around Manhattan and the periodical appearance of Gin in his office demanding his immediate attention. He had never really brought it up, because it was never really a problem, and looking after Gin’s needs was a welcome break he took from hours of paperwork or talking over the phone sorting out a problem that should not have arose in the first place.

He finished the rest of the food on his plate and ferried it over to the sink, wiping the edges of his lips with his thumb as he turned the tap on, watching the stream of water flow over the dishes and cutlery.

“Well, it is certainly interesting to note that you find easy boring and distasteful. I could do with a little more ‘easy’ when it comes to work…” More common sense and a little less idiocy would be nice, as well. Problems always surfaced particularly from below the management level, some of which could have been avoided by a click of a mouse or a post-it note.

He pushed the tap down, turning the water stream off before wandering back to the counter to retrieve his glass of wine. The dishes could wait.

The CEO stood behind Gin and his free arm snaked around Gin’s waist, loosely securing his publicist against his body. Aizen rested his chin over Gin’s shoulder and observed the water heating and bubbling up in the pot, taking a sip of wine.

“And what are we boiling today, Gin? What was originally the lobster’s spouse-to-be, I presume?”

“Yeah.” Gin sighed contentedly as he relaxed against Aizen, relishing the warmth coming off the other man’s body. “Fish-hubby was really fond of the wifey but not fond enough to lift a fin to save her when the poor thing got skewered. Silly fishy just kept bubblin’ in the sink.

“I would’ve saved ya.” The blond grinned impishly and nuzzled Sousuke’s cheek. “Would’ve jumped out heroically and slapped yer assailant to death with my amazin’ ‘n awesome tail fin.”

That came out wrong. If the publicist was the fish then his CEO would have to be the lobster which meant that…

“Eh, didn’t mean to make it sound like yer my wifey or anythin’ cuz ya obviously ain’t a lobster so ya can’t…”

Now would be a good time to shut up.

“Err, never mind.”

Aizen started laughing, his grip over Gin tightening a little as he turned to plant a brief kiss on Gin's lips. They tasted of mayonnaise and wine. They should probably not be doing this while cooking, but Gin had barely started anyway.

"If I were in trouble, I would want you to save me with your amazing and awesome tail fin."

He turned away to finish what was left in his glass, letting the liquid sit on his palette for a little while before swallowing.

He placed the empty glass onto the counter, topping it up slowly.

“Heh. Who wouldn’t?”

It was said that lobsters chose a mate and stayed with them for life. The idea of crustaceans wandering around on the bottom of the sea, holding claws was rather cute and romantic. Gin knew, however, that it was completely untrue. Female lobsters picked the most alpha of alpha males and those weren’t exactly picky when it came to finding a mating partner.

Alpha male…

The publicist turned around to look at the other man and tilted his head to the side, hands resting lightly on the black fabric covering Aizen’s chest. When he was with the CEO, the blond probably ranged somewhere below omega, which wasn’t a particularly disturbing thought. If he cut it off right there… Snorting a quiet laugh, he leaned forward and rested his head on Sousuke’s shoulder.

“Gonna keep me in a pretty bowl with plants ‘n a treasure chest ‘n carry me ‘round with ya all day, then?” he purred softly, his lips brushing against Aizen’s throat lightly.

He cast a small look at the head resting on his shoulder, a small smile creeping over his face before he sighed contentedly and took a sip of the cool wine.

"I don't know, Gin. I would probably leave you up here, but I suspect you would not like the life of a fish, bubbling away in a small little bowl with nothing to do but sit there..."

...look pretty, be admired every so often and wait for death.

"I prefer you as a person," Aizen added, taking another sip of wine before lowering it onto the counter, turning around so he was facing Gin. He wrapped his arms loosely around Gin's hips and pulled his publicist in close.

"A fish in a bowl is of not much use. You, however, can evidently cook me dinner, entertain me in many ways more than a fish ever could..."

...and you are much more interesting and fascinating to watch.

“Yeah, fish-Gin couldn’t make surprise dinners for ya.” Gin chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around Aizen’s neck, lifting his head to look at the birthday child.

“Couldn’t email ya in the middle of the day or spam yer voicemail; couldn’t kiss ya.” He tilted his head to the side to brush his lips against the other man’s.

“Couldn’t suck yer pretty cock or spread my legs fer ya anymore, either.”

The blond smirked and leaned in for another kiss. Sliding a hand into Aizen’s hair, he dipped his tongue into his lover’s mouth and purred softly.

Well, this conversation had certainly taken a turn for the… more interesting, perhaps. Aizen curled his tongue under Gin’s, pressing his lips against Gin’s, sucking lightly. One of the hands resting on his publicist’s waist slipped up, under Gin’s green shirt, fingers running over the unseen bare, warm skin.

“That’s true,” Aizen murmured as their lips parted momentarily. “What would I ever do without you, I wonder.”

Holding his publicist flush against him, he indulged the blond with another kiss, almost teasing him with glinting brown irises.

“Getting aroused from cooking husbands?” Aizen teased. They should really focus on the fish on the stove - Gin had done so well not to burn the place down, and doing so now because the CEO was distracting him would be a shame.

Pulling back Gin licked his lips and pulled them into a broad smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew that Aizen liked teasing Gin and that he didn’t mean anything by it. The publicist just couldn’t bring himself to find this particular joke funny. All it did was feed the small bunch of insecurities…

Not wanting to spoil the evening, the blond somehow managed to squeeze a soft laugh out that didn’t sound completely fake. “Where would ya pick up those, sweetheart?” he drawled, hiding his eyes again, “While yer dazzlin’ their wifeys with yer charmin’ personality?”

It seemed as if he’d managed to make a not funny joke even less funny. Awesome! Maybe he should get his mouth sewn up and be done with it…

Squirming out of Sousuke’s embrace, the blond returned his attention to their dinner. Slipping a bundle of spaghetti into the pot, he checked on the fish and reached for the pan to… What was he going to do again?

Right. White wine sauce or something.

Gin waited for the oil to heat up and dropped the pieces of chopped up onions and garlic into it, flinching a little when tiny droplets of sizzling oil hit his hands and bare arms and his shirt, forming dark spots on it. He cursed softly at his lack of an apron.

“S’not the dinner I had in mind, ya know.” Reaching for a kitchen towel, he wiped off the oil on his skin. “It was supposed to be more… spectacular and less chaotic.” He grinned sheepishly at the other man and reached for the bottle of wine, pouring a generous amount into the pan and stirred it around, watching it blend with the cream.

“Mebbe next time.”

The publicist reduced the heat under the pan, watching the boiling turn into a simmer and carefully added the fish. Noodles would take another couple of minutes he estimated. Perfect. “Be a dahlin’ and stir it around for me, please? Not too much, though.” Pushing the spatula into his CEO’s hand, he gave him a quick peck on the cheek and sauntered away to get changed. Again.

Aizen was mildly disappointed when Gin slipped out of his grasp, turning to watch the blond work in the kitchen. Too many cooks spoil the broth, was the saying, and Aizen was happy to be a spectator and sip on his wine.

“It’s fine, Gin. It is rather spectacular that you are doing this, as it is, and it does smell pleasant.” When was the last time his kitchen was used for anything more than toast and pancakes? When was the last time the CEO had time to idle in his kitchen, like this, and make a meal from scratch?

When Gin gave him the spatula, he placed his wine glass onto the counter and walked up to the stove, eyeing what he was gently stirring. The simple task was interrupted by a vibration in his pocket, and he had to swap the hand stirring the mixture with to fish his blackberry out.

“Hello? Oh - yes, I faxed the invoice over to your accounts department…”

Aizen’s mindless stirring paused.

“What do you mean?”

There was a little colour in Aizen’s voice as he started stirring again.

“No, I am not in the office right now. And no, I cannot book a flight to Dubai tomorrow.” The CEO really wondered how all these companies managed to stay afloat when no one seemed to have any common sense or get anything done right.

“That is unfortunate, but you will have to speak with my secretary tomorrow to arrange it.”

Gin took off his soiled shirt on his way to the bedroom and dropped in on a chair. He didn’t take his time pondering on what to wear now because he wanted to get back to the kitchen as quickly as possible. Pasta could be tricky sometimes and the sauce could go from liquid to clumpy in no time. It wasn’t that he thought Aizen couldn’t handle keeping an eye on their dinner. It was just that, well, he didn’t trust anyone - not even Aizen - with his creations.

Reaching into the cupboard, the publicist pulled one of the new shirts off the hanger, noticing absent-mindedly that they were all different shades of red, and tucked it in properly on his way back to the kitchen. When he saw the other man talking on the phone, he picked up the pace.

Arrange it? What?

The blond peered over the CEO’s shoulder, reached around him to dip the tip of his finger into the pan and stuck it into is mouth. Perfect - for an improvisation. Sliding his fingers down the back of his lover’s hand, he tugged the spatula out Sousuke’s grasp and moved him away from the cooker with a light bump of his hip.

Five minutes later, their modest but good-looking main course was waiting to be eaten. Leaning back against the counter, Gin took a sip of wine from Aizen’s glass and waited for him to get off the phone.

Gin took over the kitchen, and Aizen leaned back against the counter as the fast-paced, loud voice nearly screamed at him from the phone. The CEO examined and fiddled with his nails while the problems kept piling up, waiting until the ranting was done before he spoke.

“I know, but at any rate there is nothing you can do about it until tomorrow morning. Taking time differences into consideration, it is two in the morning over there.”

Another string of ‘but’s and ‘what if’s and ‘maybe’s followed, and Aizen wondered if the caller would notice if he hung up. It was probably adding fuel to the fire if Aizen pointed out that following his advice in the first place would have circumvented this incident.

“I can postpone a dinner to fly down this weekend if you so wish.

“Alright. I will see you then. Goodbye.”

The CEO sighed and slipped the phone back into his pocket. At least the problem was solved now and he should not be getting any more calls tonight.

“Would you like to go to Dubai for the weekend, Gin?”

Gin was truly impressed by Aizen’s patience. He couldn’t hear what was being said but the faint squawking the phone was emanating, was enough to make him want to drown it in the toilet. Smiling lightly, he filled up the glass and pushed it towards the other man who could definitely need it and hopped onto his stool.

The publicist busied himself with arranging the plates and cutlery, pushing them around and enjoying the soft scraping and clinking sounds they made. Sousuke’s soft sigh put an end to this inanity and drew the blond’s attention to him.

“Sure. Gotta check on yer oil fields?” he drawled and grinned. Gin really enjoyed travelling. Seeing new things, learning new customs, scents and tastes catered to his need for sensual stimulation. The fact that he would be travelling with Aizen doubled the fun.

“Got one condition, though.” Leaning closer, he placed a hand on Aizen’s shoulder and regarded him with a slightly odd look. The smile had vanished and been replaced by a very serious expression which seemed completely out of place on his face.

“No belly dancers.”

Aizen mirrored Gin’s straight face, looking equally serious. It would be inappropriate to laugh at the odd request and the blond would probably smack him or make a face and throw a fit.

“If you so wish.”

He took a sip of his refilled glass of wine.

“Oil fields? And since when did you know about my secret investment?” Aizen said, seemingly amused. If he was only going there to look at oil fields, he would probably be more excited about the trip. But alas, it was just one of the MNCs Aizen had bought over to manage music releases overseas and subcontract some work.

A branch of the MNC run by someone who lacked common sense, apparently.

Dubai was interesting - the place had undergone major renovation and modernisation even in the past fifteen years alone, and now it looked like any other bustling, busy, modern city. The CEO only ever went to countries for business trips and rarely got the chance to explore, but with Gin around, that would probably change.

“I won’t be able to switch my phone off, though, but there will be extended periods where I won’t be expecting any calls.”

“Since I slept with yer secret-investments-manager, of course.” Smiling prettily Gin shrugged languidly and brushed a few strands of hair out of his face before he reached for his fork to prod the pasta on his plate.

The phone…

“That’s fine,” he chirped, twirling his fork around in the pile of noodles. “Wouldn’t wanna put ya through a repeat performance of the post-Rome disaster. ‘S a business trip after all.”

See? Gin could pass as a reasonable human being if he wanted to - in theory.

“I’m gonna make friendly with the locals while yer busy doin’ whatever ya need to do there.” And then he could drag Sousuke through town to show him what he’d discovered. Stuffing a forkful of pasta into his mouth the blond munched on it happily, wondering how big Dubai was and how many adventures they could cram into a weekend.

“Do I need speshul clothes? I ain’t gonna have to wear a turban, do I?”

Another string of silly questions poured from Gin’s lips, interrupted only when he had to shove more food into his mouth.

Aizen settled down in his seat, eyeing up the plate of food as Gin continued rambling. Picking up a clean, shiny, silver fork, he poked at a few strands of pasta. It struck him as a little odd that Gin would not protest about the phone, but after the episode in Rome, it was not too difficult to imagine why.

“You can wear anything you like, Gin.” It would probably offend the locals more if he tried to dress uplike them. Blond hair and pale skin made it obvious that Gin was not a local, anyway. The CEO would not mind Gin doing anything he wanted there so long as there were minimal complaints and the publicist would be happy to come home when the weekend was over.

“This is nice,” Aizen commented, chewing on a bit of the pasta. “You should do this more often.”

Gin had always thought that those floating white robes looked pretty nice and he was sure that wearing those was to be preferred over wearing a suit - well-tailored or not - in a desert country. If he tried wearing one of those, however, he’d probably make an ass of himself and get thrown into jail for who-knows-what and rotting away in an Arab prison was definitely not on his list of fun things to do on vacation.

“Glad ya like,” the publicist replied after a short delay. He knew he was a good cook. He didn’t need anyone’s appraisal to confirm it. Then why did his cheeks turn a light shade of red? Puzzling over the funny and out of place feeling of pride swelling inside of him, he reached for his own glass of wine and took a sip.

“Haven’t had much opportunity to practise since you ‘n I, y’know? ‘Splains the why this lil exercise almost turned into a disaster.” Propping his elbow on the counter, the blond rested his chin in the palm of his hand and speared a piece of fish.

“Hey, I should do this more often,” he repeated after Sousuke, making it sound as if he’d just thought about it and grinned. “S’as close to ‘barefoot ‘n pregnant’ or ‘housebroken’ as I can get, eh?”

“Oh? And why would you want to be ‘barefoot and pregnant’ or ‘housebroken’?” Aizen asked, cocking an eyebrow. He scooped up more pasta and fish, putting the pile into his mouth and chewing quietly. He waved the fork around casually, talking away.

“Who will I have in the office to pop by every 15 minutes to check on me, or snatch the phone from my hand and yell at the person on the other end? Will I be condemned to half-hour lunches for the rest of my working life?”

There was a glint in Aizen’s eyes; one that kept the conversation lighthearted.

“And what will we do about Sasha and your DS, hm?”

Fork still stuck between his lips, Gin blinked.

It had happened again, hadn’t it? A glitch in his brain to mouth communication…

His tendency to say stupid things and then realising how weird it was - “It’s all yer fault!” he blurted out, pointing his fork at Aizen accusingly. “Ya make me say funny stuff ‘n the ya laugh” - which wasn’t really a bad thing since the publicist liked the sound of Sousuke laughing - “to make me look like an idiot!”

Shoulders slumping, the blonde shoved the last piece of fish into his mouth and sulked. “Sasha wouldn’t mind. She can run the department on her own jus’ fine. Actually, she’s the reason why I have time to play with the D… S.” He paused. “Which ya still haven’t returned by the way...”

Aizen chuckled to himself. He never intended to make Gin say 'funny stuff' nor did he say things that had to lead to Gin replying with 'funny stuff' - the blond seemed capable of managing to do so all by himself as it were.

"I think you are capable of looking like an idiot on your own, Gin, sad as that sounds..." the CEO mused, wiping the edges of his lips with the napkin. It would not be a good idea to be eating if Gin was going to hit him or stab him with the fork.

"And I do not have your DS. If I did, the only places I could keep it would be in the office, car or home - all of which you have frequent access to. You will have to ask Sasha where she has been hiding it." Though, Aizen had a good idea of the kinds of places Sasha would put something like that...

"You will probably have to convince her that you have... discipline, and are capable of doing proper work and still own the toy."

A sudden weak spell must have hit the publicist. Why else would he have let his fork fall on the plate with a loud clatter and turned pale as a sheet?

‘I think you’ - the blond - ‘are capable of’ - reached out - ‘looking like an idiot’ - curled his fingers around - ‘on your own’ - his half-full glass - ‘sad as that sounds’ - and emptied its contents over the other man’s head.

“Huh. Looks like yer right. I really am an undisciplined idiot.” Gin’s lips stretched into a very satisfied smirk while his gaze followed the small rivulets of wine slithering down the side of Aizen’s face and neck until they vanished under the collar of Aizen’s shirt. Spidery fingers reached out to tug the fabric obstructing the view aside. “Clumsy, too, it seems,” he added as he leaned in to slide his tongue across his CEO’s throat.

Ah, well. The CEO supposed he should have saw this coming - but Gin was as unpredictable as ever. Even with wine dripping from the tips of his hair, Aizen's smile did not falter. He tilted his head to the side a little, reaching up to unbutton his shirt as Gin started licking him.

"I suppose that is one way to get me to take my shirt off," Aizen mused, taking the buttons off one by one. He was going to have a shower later, anyway, but perhaps that would have to be brought forward.

The last button came undone, and Aizen shrugged the black shirt off his shoulders, letting it pool to the floor. They had probably dirtied more clothes today than what was considered normal in one day.

Reaching over, Aizen pulled his publicist off the chair, holding the blond close.

"Food fetish?"

“Mmh.”

Currently, it was probably more an Aizen fetish than a food fetish but it didn’t really make a difference which one of those two fixations was at work here. Gin placed one hand on Sousuke’s thigh to keep himself from toppling them to the ground as he continued to lap up the small droplets of wine sliding down the older man’s throat, his free hand slowly undoing the buttons of his own shirt.

Some time ago, Gin had come to the conclusion that Aizen was an exceptionally marvellous and brilliant man - yeah, yeah, just like everybody and their mom, but Gin’s opinion was based on reasons of a completely different nature. He didn’t care about the power, the money and success.

What made Sousuke Aizen so special to the publicist was that not only had the older man never threatened or tried to remove the blond when he was in touchy-feely-clingy mode, but he also encouraged that kind of behaviour.

“Shoulda served milk shakes,” the blond purred softly as he nipped at Aizen’s jaw.

"You think so?" Aizen replied, his voice in a deep, low murmur. This was turning out to be the most interesting and pleasant birthday yet. There was nothing except for that innocent smile. "I would not have minded, so long as it is not... vanilla."

Reaching out, Aizen covered Gin's hands with his own and curled his fingers around them, peeling them off the shirt. Those fingers continued to undo the rest of the buttons, but even when they were all undone, Aizen left the shirt hanging.

His cool hands slipped around Gin's sides, flowing down the pale, lean body until they rested on his publicist's hips.

The CEO kept his head tilted for Gin, brown irises straying down to Gin's pants, and his smile widened.

"This has been a most intriguing birthday."

“Not vanilla?” Gin trailed a line of licks and kisses down Aizen’s neck while his hand on the other man’s thigh slid further up. “Would strawberry be more to yer likin’?” he asked, sinking his teeth lightly into the soft spot between shoulder and neck, brushing his thumb over Sousuke’s fly teasingly.

“How ‘bout m-mocha, then-nh?” The moment he felt his CEO’s hands on his skin, the blond knew his playtime was over. He briefly wondered what it was that Aizen usually did on his birthdays if he thought that a messed up kitchen and a more improvised than well-executed dinner was ‘intriguing’. Maybe he wasn’t referring to that, though.

“Y’know what’d make it more intriguin’, dahlin’?” Hooking his fingers into his lover’s waistband, Gin pulled him off his seat and flush against his body, wincing when his back hit the rather solid edge of the counter. “Y’could shut up ‘n fuck me.” He smiled impishly as he tilted his head and let his tongue skip over Sousuke’s lips before he brought their mouths together, his hands fumbling with Aizen’s belt.

No, not vanilla. Vanilla was... well, vanilla. Plain, boring, indifferent.

"Strawberry, hm?" Sousuke was not too big of a fan of strawberry. Perhaps chocolate, or coffee, or rum. or gin. Did milkshakes come in gin?

"Mocha would be much better," he added, brown eyes glinting with amusement. The CEO managed to alter Gin's composed speech, just by touching him.

He peeled himself off his seat and his hands moved from Gin's hips to the counter to the sides of his publicist, trapping the silver fox between the counter and his body, indulging in the kiss.

"I could," Aizen said when their lips parted briefly, his breaths slightly more laboured than usual. "But we have not finished eating, and a kitchen countertop would hardly be comfortable for you."

All aside - of course Sousuke had the wellbeing of his publicist in mind.

"Unless, of course..." He nipped at Gin's bottom lip as the blond managed to get the belt buckle off, leaving the two ends of the belt hanging.

"You like it that way?"

“N-no… yes… maybe. Never tried it like that…” Gin took a shaky breath and let his gaze drift across the smooth surface of the counter. Chances were he would like it. He liked pretty much anything Aizen did to - with him.

“Could find out sometime.” Twinkling blue eyes looked at the dark-haired man. “But, right now, I was thinkin’ bedroom actually. Soft ‘n nice bed,” he purred and squirmed around, trying to slip out of the position he’d manoeuvred himself into.

“Forget the pasta. Leaves more room for chocolate cake.”

"Bedroom?" Aizen reiterated, pressing in closer against Gin as the blond presumably tried to wiggle his way out of his position.

"It would be a shame to 'forget about the pasta', as it were. You had put so much effort into making this nice dinner for me..."

...even if what you are wanting to do seems even more delectable.

"But if that is what you want, then I suppose we should make our way downstairs."