Pocky fic for dacia...
Hmm... another dollop of unadulterated, smutty Pocky PWP!!
The connection with Pocky gets more and more tenuous *haha*!
Happy (early) Christmas, love! Hope you enjoy - it's not very worthy, just a bit of Fun!
Story: STIR IT UP
Author: FancyFigures (fancyfigures@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, wish I did, just enjoy writing about ‘em for free etc
Pairings: 2x5x2
Category: PWP, no other excuse
Warnings: Yaoi, lemon
Spoilers: None
Notes: It’s time for a Special Occasion cake…
Feedback: If you liked it, PLEASE let me know!
The ‘Pocky’ arc strikes again!
Happy (early) Christmas, Dacia!!
“So what does it mean, 2x5x2?”
“Huh?” The tall, braided man didn’t move his head - he was concentrating on a bag of mixed fruit peel that he seemed to have opened the wrong way up. He watched the contents pour down his leg - it made an attractive ankle-warmer shape around his feet. He sighed, and reached for another stick of Pocky to chew on while he worked. “What are you bleating on about?”
The other man turned dark, scornful eyes on his companion. He waved a piece of paper in his hand with Santa’s logo at the top; ‘Coming to a Town near YOU!’ “I’m reading this recipe the old guy left us. Like, perhaps, *you* were meant to do.”
Duo snorted. “I can cook perfectly well without Santa’s damned recipe! It’s just a matter of mixing all the stuff in together and shoving it in the oven, isn’t it?” The kitchen seemed rather too hot now, even though he wore nothing but his sweat shorts and an apron at his waist that announced ‘Allow to Rise until Doubled in Size’.
“It’s for one of his favourite clients, Duo. He said to follow the recipe carefully, to make sure she likes it.“
“Likes it, shmikes it,” muttered Duo. “It’s just a cake, for God’s sake.”
“A *Christmas* cake,” corrected Wufei. He sidled along the side of the kitchen counter until he was standing only a few inches away from the other man. He flapped the paper under Duo’s wrinkling nose. “After all the ingredients, it says to add some 2x5x2. What do you think he means?”
“A measurement?” Duo hazarded the guess. His mind was otherwise occupied, picking an ancient, petrified Cheerio out of the handful of mixed peel that he’d scooped up from the floor.
Wufei rolled his eyes, exaggeratedly. “Hell, Duo, what sort of monstrosity are you making here, anyway?” He pulled the mixing bowl over, peering in and shaking his head with mock despair. “Like a cooking temperature, you think? Or the size of your cake tin?”
“Like the size of your *dick*, you *dick*!” snapped Duo, grabbing it back. “It’s all under control, OK? Perhaps you need to offer a little more constructive help!”
Some flour got thrown in temper - half a pack of butter missed Duo’s ear by a fraction of an inch. They grumbled, then settled down again to the task in hand.
*
“Might be the stirring,” said Wufei, slowly. When Duo looked round at him again, he’d slipped a finger into his mouth and was sucking at it, thoughtfully. “The 2x5x2 business. Two stirs clockwise - five anti-clockwise - two clockwise again. It’s good luck to stir a Christmas cake and make a wish.”
“A wish?” asked Duo, a little stupidly. His eyes were apparently fascinated by Wufei’s plump lips; by the fingers slipping in and out. Wufei looked back at his friend, up through hooded eyes. He thought, absentmindedly, how he liked the dusting of flour on Duo’s cheek. Made him look rather cute. He didn’t say it aloud.
“And licking out the bowl…” sighed Wufei. His tongue slid out and moistened his lips.
“Not - until I’ve finished,” said Duo, a little hoarsely.
“No licking out?” It could almost be said that Wufei pouted.
“No licking out!” Duo’s temper was straining badly. So were things under the apron.
“So did you remember the mixed fruit?”
“Of course! Got too many raisins, I think…”
“Currants? Sultanas?” Wufei was checking off the items on the paper in his hand. Duo stared at his friend’s hands. They were strong; they were very sure in everything they did. Everything they touched.
“Cherries?” Wufei lifted his eyes, slowly, raking his gaze up Duo’s barely clothed body. He settled at Duo’s eyes, staring very deliberately.
Duo knew the heat in the kitchen wasn’t from the warming oven. “Yeah - cherries. Guess you know a lot about *them*, eh, Chang?”
“Five ounces,” Wufei replied, quite calmly, though there was a flash in his dark eyes. “It says five ounces of cherries here. I thought that might be the 5 in 2x5x2.“
“Yeah, right,” sneered Duo, though he moved a little closer and peered at the recipe himself. “And maybe here’s the 2. Two ounces nuts, it says -“
“Nuts?”
Duo looked back up into those dancing eyes. “Nuts, yeah. You got a problem with *them*, too?”
“Hardly,” murmured Wufei. His hand brushed gently against Duo’s apron-clad hip. Something definitely twitched underneath the plastic. “But then you’re the cook.”
*
“Cream the butter until pale and fluffy -“ muttered Duo, reading the scribbled words on the paper. Santa’s handwriting didn’t seem to improve either with age or with the issue of sadistic labours like the one he’d given them to do today.
Wufei was still rather too close on the personal space thing. Duo didn’t see that he needed to stand right behind him, just to hand him another spoon. Nor did his hand have to stray quite so far from the counter -
Duo gasped - moaned. The very sure hands of his assistant had slipped under his apron, into his shorts, and grasped at a very erect, very grateful cock.
“Want to see the *creaming*,” hissed Wufei.
Duo gargled; he thrust helplessly into the fist that held him, his shorts dropping away from his hips. His stirring of the mixture became rather erratic; some sultanas burst up out of the bowl and escaped across the counter. Wufei snickered into the back of his neck, and nipped at the sweaty skin there.
“What are you doing -?” gabbled Duo. He winced - he groaned aloud.
Wufei’s voice was rather strained as well. “Just beating in -” he grunted, his hands kneading the tight balls underneath Duo’s desperate cock.
“That’s the instruction for the *eggs* -“ whimpered Duo.
“No, that’s for a *soft dropping consistency*,” gasped Wufei, as Duo climaxed all over his hand and sent a thick, glutinous spray all over the kitchen floor.
They both fell to their knees, gasping.
Another Cheerio raced for cover under the kitchen table.
*
A hand stretched up from the floor to the counter, and gripped on to it. A man’s voice hissed, perhaps with pain, perhaps with impatience. Duo was lying spreadeagled on his back on the kitchen floor, one foot folded up against a cupboard door, and a small pile of abandoned peel crushed under his shoulder. The apron had long gone; the apocryphal rising had taken place very quickly.
Wufei’s voice was muffled - there was the flash of long limbs being rearranged on the floor into a more accessible position. “Got to spread the mixture evenly,” puffed Wufei, his hands gripping Duo’s ankles and pulling them wider apart. He appeared to be just as naked by now; and certain parts of him were just as likely to spring back when pressed with a floured finger.
Though no-one would have dared try.
Duo chuckled, and gazed at the aroused young man on top of him with eager anticipation. “So what damned recipe *are* you following, Chang?”
“Good Housekeeping -“ the dark-haired man grunted. He wriggled himself between the slim hips, and seemed to be rearranging something else, deep in the oven temperature depths of Duo’s groin. “A mine of information and ideas for *entertaining*, it says in the blurb -“
He jerked his body forwards, confidently, lodging himself firmly up against Duo’s balls. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his eyes glazed over swiftly. Duo swore once, softly, and his hands appeared on Wufei’s naked buttocks, clutching the tense body even more tightly between his outstretched legs. “*Fuck*, that’s good,” he gasped.
“Then you must make a dip in the centre -“ Wufei quoted from page 396, and slapped his hips forward again. Duo wailed. He was just that little bit *too* firm to the touch! Wufei’s thrusts became very enthusiastic and he felt the approach - again - of the soft dropping consistency.
Their climaxes came with loud, hiccupping laughs, and the soft chiming of the oven timer. It had reached the required temperature.
So had a couple of other bodies.
*
The cake was in the oven; the bowl was licked clean and in the sink. The apron was a discarded pool of limp plastic, at the furthest corner of the kitchen floor, sharing the miserable fate of a couple of remaining Cheerios, and some spilt cake mixture.
The two men lay entwined on their bed, still stark naked, eating the excess raisins. Wufei had followed a trail of them from Duo’s throat, down to his navel. If Duo hadn’t been so ticklish, it could have been impossibly erotic.
“I know what the 2x5x2 is,” Wufei murmured in Duo’s ear. It was already rather pink from his nipping teeth. His hand slipped under Duo’s buttocks and his wrist flexed. Duo yelped.
“Five *fingers* -“ hissed Wufei. There were some complex movements happening under Duo’s ass that made him arch up with cries that had nothing to do with nutrition or menu planning. “And two *balls* -!”
Duo gasped and turned on his partner in furious revenge, rolling him face down on the long-suffering mattress. “Jeez, Chang, just wait till we get to the part where we have to prick the cake top all over with a fine skewer!”
End