(no subject)
title: This Means War
pairing: Suga/OC
rating: PG
genre: fluff/????
part: 1/1
summary: He wasn't actually hungry, he was just bored and that's pretty much the same thing in Yoongi's mind.
This Means War.
"I'm hungry. I want food." he said, head hanging over the edge of the couch. He wasn't actually hungry, he was just bored and that's pretty much the same thing in Yoongi's mind.
"Want to order takeout, then?" she asked. "I have the numbers for a Chinese place and Pizza Hut. Pick your poison."
"What ever happened to those chocolate chips? Can we bake some cookies?" he asked, awkwardly squirming his body around in an attempt to sit up properly.
"Sure, we can make cookies. But you have to promise not to get the ingredients all over my kitchen. Or me." she said, a stern tone, complete with a raised eyebrow.
"Okay, mom. No messes, I promise." Yoongi replies, already making his way into the kitchen. She sighs and walks over to join him, knowing that he's about to turn her kitchen into a war zone. All the casualties on her side. Still she smiles, amused by his childlike excitement.
Ten minutes into the baking process and they (Yoongi) have already managed to get flour on the cabinets, egg yolk on the floor, and chocolate smeared across Yoongi's shirt and right cheek. "Hey." he says, mischievous smile alerting impending danger. "Why am I the only one dirty?" he asks, turning to her. The soldiers have arrived on the battlefield.
"Um, because I'm not five years old?" she scoffs, trying (and failing) to hide the smile creeping onto her face. She continues to stir the mixture in the bowl, trying to ignore him before catching a hand sneaking into the bag of flour on the counter. "Min Yoongi, I swear if you--"
Too late. The first shot has been fired. The war has begun.
Blinking her eyes open, she looks down at the flour on her shirt, setting the bowl aside without a word. With a suck of her teeth and a look of revenge she chuckles. Yoongi watches her carefully with a smile, waiting to intercept her next move, which he expects to be more flour flung at his face. Instead she swiftly grabs two eggs and tosses them expertly at his chest, grenades exploding onto his shirt.
He glances down at his brand new t-shirt. Civilian casualties. "You're in for it now." he says, grabbing the bag of flour. He tosses liberal handfuls of it into her hair and she steadily aims the eggs at him, hitting her target with perfect accuracy.
Seven minutes later they both surrender. They lay on the filthy kitchen floor, laughing at how ridiculous they look.
"I need a shower." she says with a small giggle, moving to stand up. He reaches out to gently catch her arm.
"What?" she asks.
"I still want cookies."
She grabs the almost empty bag of flour, dumping the rest on his pants with a laugh before helping him up. "Let's finish these cookies and clean up."
"Deal." he says, dipping his fingers into the batter.
a/n: I still don't know what I'm doing. Also, I didn't give OC a name bc I wanted whoever reads this to be able to imagine OC as whomever they want. Sorry for the ending. ;; AND the formatting looks kinda weird but I still like it and I'm too lazy to fix it.