[Fic] Of Baking and Apples and Pies (Takki x Tsubasa)
Title: Of Baking and Apples and Pies
Author: kohee
Pairing: Takizawa Hideaki x Imai Tsubasa
Summary: One-shot: Tsubasa loves baking. And he thinks it would be a great idea to rope Takki into his apple-pie project.
Genre: Romance/Fluff
Rating: PG
Author's Note: I actually started this like a long time ago when I was baking an apple pie with my boyfriend (ironically - he was (still is) the baker, not me) - and only gotten around to finishing this (albeit crappily) because I have been writing too. much. het. Damn you, Pi and Maki. Anyway. Pointless, plotless fluff.
It was a quiet afternoon, one of the few times when he had the day off, to do what he pleased. It was a pleasant afternoon for a ball game at the park, or an early evening movie, or some light shopping (he needed a new shirt, he thought, and maybe a new pair of sunglasses) or perhaps, drinks with friends. But instead of doing all those relaxing activities, Takki found himself reclining on his bed, a thick script in one hand and a pencil in the other, making markings and reciting lines like the boring workaholic he is.
He sighed, dropping the script and flexing his fingers, leaning back on his pillows. At least he had the solitude, he thought, just a second before that solitude was evaporated by someone flinging opened his bedroom door with a lot of enthusiasm.
“Hide-kun!”
Takki yelped in surprise as something very heavy landed on his bed, near his legs. Before he even had the time to recover from the sudden shock or to look at the huge basket sitting on his clean sheets, he found himself looking into the grinning face of his partner. Tsubasa’s gaze flitted to the dog-eared and marked script on Takki’s bed and grimaced.
“You get a day off once every six months and you spent it reciting lines? Honestly, Hide-kun, you need to get a life,” he admonished, shaking a finger playfully at Takki’s face.
Takki, on his part, groaned. “Can’t you at least knock before invading? I swear, the day I gave you the keys to my house, I must be drunk. And for someone who hates cats, you certainly act like one,” he grumbled. This wasn’t the first time Tsubasa barged into his house, invited or otherwise, ever since he was given the key, and stepping like a ghostly cat each time, without sound or movement. That was, until he decided that it would be really funny to scream or pounce or do both at once, thus scaring his poor partner half to death.
Tsubasa simply made a face at Takki and gestured towards the basket at the foot of the bed. “Help me sort those out!”
“What is that?” Takki lifted himself up reluctantly and stared down at the basket - filled to the brim with shiny red apples. “Hey!” He snapped, grabbing the basket and setting it down on the floor. “No food on my bed! And there was dirt under the basket…Imai-san!”
“Obsessive-compulsive, aren’t we?” Tsubasa made a clicking noise with his tongue and sat down on the floor beside the basket, taking a shiny red apple and tossing it from hand to hand. “Anyway,” he continued, ignoring his partner’s disgruntled expression as he dusted vigorously at his bed-cover, “...I thought it'll be great if we make...apple pie!”
“Apple pie?” Takki mumbled, smoothing down the edges of his covers, casting a critical eye over it for any flecks of dirt. “I don't even like apple pie...that much. Besides...” he picked up his script and shook it at Tsubasa's face. “...I have work to do.”
With one quick and fluid motion, Tsubasa grabbed the script out of Takki's hand and held it above his head. Takki decided that he would look idiotic standing on his tiptoes and trying to get his script back so he settled for glaring at Tsubasa. “Stop flaunting your stupid height advantage at me. You're not that tall.”
“And you're short.” Tsubasa returned cheerfully, climbing on a stool and chucking Takki's script at the very top of his wardrobe. “Also, you're going to help me bake an apple pie.”
“You mean I'm going to have to clean up the mess after you're done with your pie.” Takki muttered under his breath, massaging his temples with his fingertips, already feeling a headache coming on, envisioning his sparkling, clean, chrome and marble kitchen in the aftermath of Tsubasa-hurricane.
Tsubasa's face fell a notch as he gazed at Takki with wide eyes, and Takki groaned. “Don't give me that look, you know I can't stand it. Fine, fine, I'll help you, I'll do whatever you want.”
His partner's face cleared immediately and he smiled cheekily, thrusting the basket at Takki, skipping off towards the kitchen and yelling over his shoulder. “Great! You can help me sort the apples!”
Takki wondered why, after all these years, he still fell for Tsubasa's 'sad-face' trick. Certainly, time hadn't taught him anything at all, or maybe he was just a complete sucker than it comes to Tsubasa.
-
It wasn't long before Takki found himself peeling apples while Tsubasa fussed over a perfect crust mixture for his precious pie.
“The apples have to be cored and cut into quarters, and then you should slice each quarter into portions of three. I'd prefer them to be equal...”
“Are you kidding me?” Takki glanced at his partner in utter disbelief. “And you call me obsessive-compulsive?”
“As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Tsubasa said haughtily. “...I'd prefer them to be equal but if you can't do it, that's fine.”
“Yeah, well, I can't.” Takki reaffirmed, hacking at a peeled apple with his knife.
“You could at least try.”
“Tsubasa...this isn't my idea.” Takki waved his knife menacingly.
“As if you could ever think of such a great idea.” Tsubasa scoffed, adding a teaspoon of sugar into his crust mixture.
Takki blinked, surveying the flour prints, spilled sugar and biscuit crumbs on Tsubasa's side of the kitchen (his side, of course, was immaculately clean; he wiped down the counter every 5 minutes). “Excuse me, great idea?”
“Well, yeah.” Tsubasa looked up. “It's been a while since we both spent some time together, just like this, without you rushing off to an interview or a rehearsal or answering phone calls every two seconds. It's nice, just the two of us.” His tone was off-handed and casual, but there was a slightly poignant note to it that did not escape Takki, and it instantly made him felt more than just a little contrite.
Staring down at the apples on his chopping board, Takki picked up a quarter, scrutinized it, and carefully gauged the approximation of the apple widths, and set his knife down to divide them into three equal pieces.
Tsubasa crushed another sweet biscuit into his mixing bowl and smiled.
-
“Taa-daa!” Tsubasa proudly removed a perfect apple-pie from Takki's oven, piping hot with the most delicious looking golden crust. Setting it down on the dining table, he looked at his pie happily.
The younger man handed him a knife. “Do the honors, have the first slice.”
He shook his head, instead handing Takki a spoon. “We don't need to cut it up into slices. Dig in!” Without further ado, he dug his spoon into his pie, scooping up a generous mixture of crust and warm, piping apples. Savoring the bite, he smiled contentedly. “Another cooking success for Tsubasa!”
Takki nibbled at a bit of pie, eyes on Tsubasa, who was helping himself to another spoonful of pie, looking so happy,almost childishly so, all because of some simple together-time and an apple pie. He was reminded of how he sometimes takes Tsubasa for granted (he remembered how unenthusiastic he was about Tsubasa's baking plan), and how he doesn't really deserve Tsubasa sometimes, and it made him feel all guilty and horrible.
Putting down his spoon, he grabbed Tsubasa's free hand in his. Tsubasa looked up from stuffing his face, with a quizzical expression. Lifting Tsubasa's hand to his lips, Takki pressed a gentle kiss against his knuckles. “Thank you for today,” he said sincerely.
Tsubasa blinked, swiveling around to look at Takki's very messy kitchen. He dropped his spoon, using his hand to feel Takki's forehead. “Are you running a temperature?”
“No,” Takki grinned, and added. “I love you.”
Tsubasa looked at the remains of his pie. “Wow. I should bake more often.”
Takki rolled his eyes, and pulled Tsubasa to him, landing his lips on Tsubasa's, tasting crust crumbs, sour-sweet apples and the unique taste that is Tsubasa and only Tsubasa.
Yep - Tsubasa thought, as he slipped his hand under Takki's shirt and deepened the kiss - I should definitely bake more often.
Next time, he'd prepare cream and ice-cream for his pies.
- end -
Comments are ♥ :)
Author: kohee
Pairing: Takizawa Hideaki x Imai Tsubasa
Summary: One-shot: Tsubasa loves baking. And he thinks it would be a great idea to rope Takki into his apple-pie project.
Genre: Romance/Fluff
Rating: PG
Author's Note: I actually started this like a long time ago when I was baking an apple pie with my boyfriend (ironically - he was (still is) the baker, not me) - and only gotten around to finishing this (albeit crappily) because I have been writing too. much. het. Damn you, Pi and Maki. Anyway. Pointless, plotless fluff.
It was a quiet afternoon, one of the few times when he had the day off, to do what he pleased. It was a pleasant afternoon for a ball game at the park, or an early evening movie, or some light shopping (he needed a new shirt, he thought, and maybe a new pair of sunglasses) or perhaps, drinks with friends. But instead of doing all those relaxing activities, Takki found himself reclining on his bed, a thick script in one hand and a pencil in the other, making markings and reciting lines like the boring workaholic he is.
He sighed, dropping the script and flexing his fingers, leaning back on his pillows. At least he had the solitude, he thought, just a second before that solitude was evaporated by someone flinging opened his bedroom door with a lot of enthusiasm.
“Hide-kun!”
Takki yelped in surprise as something very heavy landed on his bed, near his legs. Before he even had the time to recover from the sudden shock or to look at the huge basket sitting on his clean sheets, he found himself looking into the grinning face of his partner. Tsubasa’s gaze flitted to the dog-eared and marked script on Takki’s bed and grimaced.
“You get a day off once every six months and you spent it reciting lines? Honestly, Hide-kun, you need to get a life,” he admonished, shaking a finger playfully at Takki’s face.
Takki, on his part, groaned. “Can’t you at least knock before invading? I swear, the day I gave you the keys to my house, I must be drunk. And for someone who hates cats, you certainly act like one,” he grumbled. This wasn’t the first time Tsubasa barged into his house, invited or otherwise, ever since he was given the key, and stepping like a ghostly cat each time, without sound or movement. That was, until he decided that it would be really funny to scream or pounce or do both at once, thus scaring his poor partner half to death.
Tsubasa simply made a face at Takki and gestured towards the basket at the foot of the bed. “Help me sort those out!”
“What is that?” Takki lifted himself up reluctantly and stared down at the basket - filled to the brim with shiny red apples. “Hey!” He snapped, grabbing the basket and setting it down on the floor. “No food on my bed! And there was dirt under the basket…Imai-san!”
“Obsessive-compulsive, aren’t we?” Tsubasa made a clicking noise with his tongue and sat down on the floor beside the basket, taking a shiny red apple and tossing it from hand to hand. “Anyway,” he continued, ignoring his partner’s disgruntled expression as he dusted vigorously at his bed-cover, “...I thought it'll be great if we make...apple pie!”
“Apple pie?” Takki mumbled, smoothing down the edges of his covers, casting a critical eye over it for any flecks of dirt. “I don't even like apple pie...that much. Besides...” he picked up his script and shook it at Tsubasa's face. “...I have work to do.”
With one quick and fluid motion, Tsubasa grabbed the script out of Takki's hand and held it above his head. Takki decided that he would look idiotic standing on his tiptoes and trying to get his script back so he settled for glaring at Tsubasa. “Stop flaunting your stupid height advantage at me. You're not that tall.”
“And you're short.” Tsubasa returned cheerfully, climbing on a stool and chucking Takki's script at the very top of his wardrobe. “Also, you're going to help me bake an apple pie.”
“You mean I'm going to have to clean up the mess after you're done with your pie.” Takki muttered under his breath, massaging his temples with his fingertips, already feeling a headache coming on, envisioning his sparkling, clean, chrome and marble kitchen in the aftermath of Tsubasa-hurricane.
Tsubasa's face fell a notch as he gazed at Takki with wide eyes, and Takki groaned. “Don't give me that look, you know I can't stand it. Fine, fine, I'll help you, I'll do whatever you want.”
His partner's face cleared immediately and he smiled cheekily, thrusting the basket at Takki, skipping off towards the kitchen and yelling over his shoulder. “Great! You can help me sort the apples!”
Takki wondered why, after all these years, he still fell for Tsubasa's 'sad-face' trick. Certainly, time hadn't taught him anything at all, or maybe he was just a complete sucker than it comes to Tsubasa.
-
It wasn't long before Takki found himself peeling apples while Tsubasa fussed over a perfect crust mixture for his precious pie.
“The apples have to be cored and cut into quarters, and then you should slice each quarter into portions of three. I'd prefer them to be equal...”
“Are you kidding me?” Takki glanced at his partner in utter disbelief. “And you call me obsessive-compulsive?”
“As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Tsubasa said haughtily. “...I'd prefer them to be equal but if you can't do it, that's fine.”
“Yeah, well, I can't.” Takki reaffirmed, hacking at a peeled apple with his knife.
“You could at least try.”
“Tsubasa...this isn't my idea.” Takki waved his knife menacingly.
“As if you could ever think of such a great idea.” Tsubasa scoffed, adding a teaspoon of sugar into his crust mixture.
Takki blinked, surveying the flour prints, spilled sugar and biscuit crumbs on Tsubasa's side of the kitchen (his side, of course, was immaculately clean; he wiped down the counter every 5 minutes). “Excuse me, great idea?”
“Well, yeah.” Tsubasa looked up. “It's been a while since we both spent some time together, just like this, without you rushing off to an interview or a rehearsal or answering phone calls every two seconds. It's nice, just the two of us.” His tone was off-handed and casual, but there was a slightly poignant note to it that did not escape Takki, and it instantly made him felt more than just a little contrite.
Staring down at the apples on his chopping board, Takki picked up a quarter, scrutinized it, and carefully gauged the approximation of the apple widths, and set his knife down to divide them into three equal pieces.
Tsubasa crushed another sweet biscuit into his mixing bowl and smiled.
-
“Taa-daa!” Tsubasa proudly removed a perfect apple-pie from Takki's oven, piping hot with the most delicious looking golden crust. Setting it down on the dining table, he looked at his pie happily.
The younger man handed him a knife. “Do the honors, have the first slice.”
He shook his head, instead handing Takki a spoon. “We don't need to cut it up into slices. Dig in!” Without further ado, he dug his spoon into his pie, scooping up a generous mixture of crust and warm, piping apples. Savoring the bite, he smiled contentedly. “Another cooking success for Tsubasa!”
Takki nibbled at a bit of pie, eyes on Tsubasa, who was helping himself to another spoonful of pie, looking so happy,almost childishly so, all because of some simple together-time and an apple pie. He was reminded of how he sometimes takes Tsubasa for granted (he remembered how unenthusiastic he was about Tsubasa's baking plan), and how he doesn't really deserve Tsubasa sometimes, and it made him feel all guilty and horrible.
Putting down his spoon, he grabbed Tsubasa's free hand in his. Tsubasa looked up from stuffing his face, with a quizzical expression. Lifting Tsubasa's hand to his lips, Takki pressed a gentle kiss against his knuckles. “Thank you for today,” he said sincerely.
Tsubasa blinked, swiveling around to look at Takki's very messy kitchen. He dropped his spoon, using his hand to feel Takki's forehead. “Are you running a temperature?”
“No,” Takki grinned, and added. “I love you.”
Tsubasa looked at the remains of his pie. “Wow. I should bake more often.”
Takki rolled his eyes, and pulled Tsubasa to him, landing his lips on Tsubasa's, tasting crust crumbs, sour-sweet apples and the unique taste that is Tsubasa and only Tsubasa.
Yep - Tsubasa thought, as he slipped his hand under Takki's shirt and deepened the kiss - I should definitely bake more often.
Next time, he'd prepare cream and ice-cream for his pies.
- end -
Comments are ♥ :)