The Frog is Pure Genius has a second chapter. HOOOH MOTHER CRACKER.
It's baaad~ because it's been written over a very hyper-active night, and I may remove it and do it again. Y'never know.
BUT FOR NOOOW I present the second chapter, 'FRUITCAKE'.
The Frog is Pure Genius - Fruitcake
Rating: Another PG, but it will get to R/NC17, I promise. :D
Warning: MPreg, Yaoi, incest, FLUFF, unfortunate abuse of a Harry Potter scene, and weird food combinations.
Il Forte had had some weird cravings recently. Fruitcake was one of them. Szayel was more than happy to get the items his most favourite person asked, but when it was 4:30am, and you hadn’t slept all night because said-favourite person had been vomiting again - morning sickness isn’t necessarily in the morning, Szayel found - there was a slight strain on him. Where would he get the food at this time of night?
He was panicking mildly, pacing the bedroom. Il Forte was resting on the couch, watching reality TV, an obsession he had developed. He exited, and found one of the more stupid creations on the television, Il Forte happily lounging, snuggled under a blanket, watching it.
“These people are interesting, Szayel… Maybe you’d like to experiment on some of them!” The tediousness of it all caused the pink-haired man to reply with a very snarky:
“I’d like that very much.” Followed by a growl and run of his fingers through his hair.
“Ohhh, Szayel, SZAYEL!” Il Forte shouted excitedly.
“Yes my dear?” He replied in a very cool tone.
“Fruitcake!”
“Er, yes, about that…” He sat down next to Il Forte and smiled sweetly. “It’s four thirty in the morning, I don’t think anywhere’s going to be open, or at least not a place selling fruitcake.”
Not what Il Forte wanted to hear. He threw the biggest hissy-fit-tantrum Szayel had yet seen. He relented at around 5:08am. He headed out onto the streets, wrapped up warm, carrying lots of money, having left a now tear-stained beauty back in the house to rot his brain some more.
6:39am. He finally returned home triumphant. A whole bag of fruitcakes in tow, he proudly opened the door to his home, expecting to see Il Forte awake, and hungry.
That unfortunately was not the case. He was asleep on the couch, and had written a note. Szayel looked around in fear.
He yelled before getting shouted at by a half-asleep pregnant guy. He apologised profusely, before placing the note in the drawer. He placed the fruitcakes all on different plates and served them to Il Forte.
“Screw the note, I got fruitcake, you’re eating fruitcake. I spent ages out there looking for them, and I will not now go out and find pasta, cheese sauce, and Smarties, NO.”
Mean, yes. But Szayel was tired and collapsed very easily into the armchair, close to Il Forte. Instead of tears, which is what most men would see in their partner’s eyes, he saw pure love, and glee.
“THEYLOOKSODELICIOUS!” Il Forte declared, tucking in happily. “I would still like curly fries, but we have some frozen ones we,” meaning Szayel, “could cook!” He grinned, with fruitcake on his nose. Szayel chuckled into the hand that was rubbing his temples simultaneously, and reached forward, licking the cake off his lover’s nose.
“May I have some curly fries too please? I have been good today, I’ve given you fruitcake.” He smiled at Il Forte, hoping it would work.
“…”
“Hm?” Szayel kept smiling.
“N-… fine… BUT I GET MORE I’M MAKING A HUMAN RIGHT NOW!” He pointed to his stomach with a fork full of fruitcake, getting crumbs everywhere.
“Good thing I love you so much, most men would be pulling their hair out by now.”
His only response, and the only one he’ll ever need; a very happy, content, almost cheesy smile. And that one thing could be the one thing that he loved more than anything else. He watched him eat more cake, before getting up to do the curly fries.
“I can leave you here without vomiting, dying, bleeding, or anything else, right?”
“Get some Jelly Tots too!”
“I can trust you, right?”
“OH and butter. Oooh all of those together sound delicious!”
Szayel groaned happily, kissing Il Forte’s forehead and walking off.
“AND CHEEEESE! DO NOT FORGET THE CHEESE OR I’LL HURT YOU WITH, uhm… THINGS.” Szayel kept walking into the kitchen, trying to not burst into laughter. Forte continued;
“LIKE, I’LL MAKE THE BABY TURN AGAINST YOU. Make him dislike pink or something.” A chuckle was released as he started cooking the fries. “YEAAAH, MAKE HIM NOT LIKE PINK OR SCIENCE. THAT WILL REALLY GET YOU THEN. ALL FOR NOT GETTING THE CHE-’’
Szayel had rushed back in, and placed a medium-sized piece of cheese in Il Forte’s mouth.
“Taste good?” He chuckled, letting Il Forte finish his mouthful.
“Very.” The other man’s face light up once more. “Cheeeese. Can we name the baby that?”
“No, sorry.”
“Fromage frais?”
“Nnh, again, inclined to decline.”
“Cedric.”
“You’ve watched too much Harry Potter haven’t you?”
“OR OR HERMIONE!”
“Yep.”
“Cheese makes me happy.”
“And high, it appears.”
“High on liiife.”
“Is that good for the baby?”
“… Ask again later.”
“Ookay then, curlies are almost done. Sure you aren’t going to jiggle the thing out of you?”
“No.”
“Okay then!” The moment he turned his back and sped for the kitchen, Il Forte jiggled a little. Szayel arranged the tray with assorted Jelly Tots, curly fries, many of them, cheese, and a good cube of butter.
Il Forte was in heaven. But, before he started eating, he raised his hand, and pressed the TV remote.
“Harry Potter again my dear?” Szayel said calmly, while placing the tray on the coffee table in front of Il Forte.
“I realise I never really got to thank you for tipping me off about those dragons.”
“Of course.” Szayel mumbled, sitting back in his chair with his own plate of curly fries.
Il Forte was eating slowly but happily, eyes stuck to the television. Szayel shuffled over to the couch, snuggling with Il Forte as best as he could without squishing him. The man didn’t really notice; he was too entranced by the screen.
“You know the Prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor? It’s not a bad place for a bath. Just take your egg… and mull things over in the hot water.”
There was a sudden, loud declaration of:
“DAMN. How I love homo-erotic sub-text in movies!”
And with that, Il Forte put that scene on repeat.
BUT FOR NOOOW I present the second chapter, 'FRUITCAKE'.
The Frog is Pure Genius - Fruitcake
Rating: Another PG, but it will get to R/NC17, I promise. :D
Warning: MPreg, Yaoi, incest, FLUFF, unfortunate abuse of a Harry Potter scene, and weird food combinations.
Il Forte had had some weird cravings recently. Fruitcake was one of them. Szayel was more than happy to get the items his most favourite person asked, but when it was 4:30am, and you hadn’t slept all night because said-favourite person had been vomiting again - morning sickness isn’t necessarily in the morning, Szayel found - there was a slight strain on him. Where would he get the food at this time of night?
He was panicking mildly, pacing the bedroom. Il Forte was resting on the couch, watching reality TV, an obsession he had developed. He exited, and found one of the more stupid creations on the television, Il Forte happily lounging, snuggled under a blanket, watching it.
“These people are interesting, Szayel… Maybe you’d like to experiment on some of them!” The tediousness of it all caused the pink-haired man to reply with a very snarky:
“I’d like that very much.” Followed by a growl and run of his fingers through his hair.
“Ohhh, Szayel, SZAYEL!” Il Forte shouted excitedly.
“Yes my dear?” He replied in a very cool tone.
“Fruitcake!”
“Er, yes, about that…” He sat down next to Il Forte and smiled sweetly. “It’s four thirty in the morning, I don’t think anywhere’s going to be open, or at least not a place selling fruitcake.”
Not what Il Forte wanted to hear. He threw the biggest hissy-fit-tantrum Szayel had yet seen. He relented at around 5:08am. He headed out onto the streets, wrapped up warm, carrying lots of money, having left a now tear-stained beauty back in the house to rot his brain some more.
6:39am. He finally returned home triumphant. A whole bag of fruitcakes in tow, he proudly opened the door to his home, expecting to see Il Forte awake, and hungry.
That unfortunately was not the case. He was asleep on the couch, and had written a note. Szayel looked around in fear.
He yelled before getting shouted at by a half-asleep pregnant guy. He apologised profusely, before placing the note in the drawer. He placed the fruitcakes all on different plates and served them to Il Forte.
“Screw the note, I got fruitcake, you’re eating fruitcake. I spent ages out there looking for them, and I will not now go out and find pasta, cheese sauce, and Smarties, NO.”
Mean, yes. But Szayel was tired and collapsed very easily into the armchair, close to Il Forte. Instead of tears, which is what most men would see in their partner’s eyes, he saw pure love, and glee.
“THEYLOOKSODELICIOUS!” Il Forte declared, tucking in happily. “I would still like curly fries, but we have some frozen ones we,” meaning Szayel, “could cook!” He grinned, with fruitcake on his nose. Szayel chuckled into the hand that was rubbing his temples simultaneously, and reached forward, licking the cake off his lover’s nose.
“May I have some curly fries too please? I have been good today, I’ve given you fruitcake.” He smiled at Il Forte, hoping it would work.
“…”
“Hm?” Szayel kept smiling.
“N-… fine… BUT I GET MORE I’M MAKING A HUMAN RIGHT NOW!” He pointed to his stomach with a fork full of fruitcake, getting crumbs everywhere.
“Good thing I love you so much, most men would be pulling their hair out by now.”
His only response, and the only one he’ll ever need; a very happy, content, almost cheesy smile. And that one thing could be the one thing that he loved more than anything else. He watched him eat more cake, before getting up to do the curly fries.
“I can leave you here without vomiting, dying, bleeding, or anything else, right?”
“Get some Jelly Tots too!”
“I can trust you, right?”
“OH and butter. Oooh all of those together sound delicious!”
Szayel groaned happily, kissing Il Forte’s forehead and walking off.
“AND CHEEEESE! DO NOT FORGET THE CHEESE OR I’LL HURT YOU WITH, uhm… THINGS.” Szayel kept walking into the kitchen, trying to not burst into laughter. Forte continued;
“LIKE, I’LL MAKE THE BABY TURN AGAINST YOU. Make him dislike pink or something.” A chuckle was released as he started cooking the fries. “YEAAAH, MAKE HIM NOT LIKE PINK OR SCIENCE. THAT WILL REALLY GET YOU THEN. ALL FOR NOT GETTING THE CHE-’’
Szayel had rushed back in, and placed a medium-sized piece of cheese in Il Forte’s mouth.
“Taste good?” He chuckled, letting Il Forte finish his mouthful.
“Very.” The other man’s face light up once more. “Cheeeese. Can we name the baby that?”
“No, sorry.”
“Fromage frais?”
“Nnh, again, inclined to decline.”
“Cedric.”
“You’ve watched too much Harry Potter haven’t you?”
“OR OR HERMIONE!”
“Yep.”
“Cheese makes me happy.”
“And high, it appears.”
“High on liiife.”
“Is that good for the baby?”
“… Ask again later.”
“Ookay then, curlies are almost done. Sure you aren’t going to jiggle the thing out of you?”
“No.”
“Okay then!” The moment he turned his back and sped for the kitchen, Il Forte jiggled a little. Szayel arranged the tray with assorted Jelly Tots, curly fries, many of them, cheese, and a good cube of butter.
Il Forte was in heaven. But, before he started eating, he raised his hand, and pressed the TV remote.
“Harry Potter again my dear?” Szayel said calmly, while placing the tray on the coffee table in front of Il Forte.
“I realise I never really got to thank you for tipping me off about those dragons.”
“Of course.” Szayel mumbled, sitting back in his chair with his own plate of curly fries.
Il Forte was eating slowly but happily, eyes stuck to the television. Szayel shuffled over to the couch, snuggling with Il Forte as best as he could without squishing him. The man didn’t really notice; he was too entranced by the screen.
“You know the Prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor? It’s not a bad place for a bath. Just take your egg… and mull things over in the hot water.”
There was a sudden, loud declaration of:
“DAMN. How I love homo-erotic sub-text in movies!”
And with that, Il Forte put that scene on repeat.