Foodsex / High Aphro (in the food. ALL OF IT.) / Locked to brothercumface
It perhaps said something that Ishida wasn't at all surprised at this particular turn of events. It hadn't escaped Ishida's notice that Minatsuki, despite how tough she could act (and, for that matter, be), was perhaps a touch frail and underfed. Whether that was the fault of whatever world she had come from or the fault of the hotel, he didn't know, and either way, the point was moot. He intended to rectify it-- by telling her she should eat better for her own sake. The hummingbird had, of course, taken that about as well as expected. Finally, after many curses, thrown items, and barbed insults about how he must like chubby girls, she relented... in typical Minatsuki fashion. She had demanded that if he wanted her to eat better to take care of herself, he would have to cook her meals for her his damn self, because she couldn't be bothered to. He had, of course, with arched eyebrow, acquiesced. Whether the interplay between them said more about her or more about him-- well, doubtless they'd disagree on that, too.
So here they were, in the kitchen together, as he slipped on an apron. He sewed, and she knew it; he wasn't ashamed of that, and he wasn't anymore ashamed of knowing how to cook, though he was ready for her to insult his masculinity for doing it anyway. He'd always been able to take what she threw at him, and this would be no different.
"What would you like to eat?" he asked as he started sorting through the ingredients available.
So here they were, in the kitchen together, as he slipped on an apron. He sewed, and she knew it; he wasn't ashamed of that, and he wasn't anymore ashamed of knowing how to cook, though he was ready for her to insult his masculinity for doing it anyway. He'd always been able to take what she threw at him, and this would be no different.
"What would you like to eat?" he asked as he started sorting through the ingredients available.