Breakfast in Bed

Genres: Humor, Romance

Rating: T

Summary: Toast THIS good, you've gotta eat…slowly. / For Doubleplusgoodduckspeaker – Toastshipping Ryou x piece of toast, Tendershipping Ryou x Bakura. Crack. Now continued by popular demand! Ch 3 – Pastryshipping Ryou x Creampuff

A/N: Just when you least expect it, a third chapter is coming your way, fresh and piping-hot from the oven! Is this a clue about what pairing you'll be seeing in this chapter? Certainly! This third chapter features Pastryshipping (Ryou x Cream puff), created by the wonderful LadyBlackwell. Keep those food pairing ideas rolling! With a rolling pin! ;D

Thanks to everyone who reviewed on chapter two: Doubleplusgoodduckspeaker, seira-g, LadyBlackwell, Ryou VeRua, sunoko, Pheonix09, ShizukaLawliet13, Seren147, BlueSpiritFire1, nekogirl156, Hee-so-kaa, xXYami-KaibutsuXx, TOD ZUYO, Pork Steak the Grande, Hotaru Layla, Statuess, RedSmarties, Wolfbane-Chan, withering blossoms, , Sizacu, .Lover, harinezumiko, Borath, Beansprout-Ninja, and StandUpEvenIfYouStandAlone.

I'm also proud to say that the story has gotten over 1000 hits! Which begs the question…who are all of you people? xD

Thanks to LadyBlackwell for her suggestion of the pairing. I've also incorporated a bit of ShizukaLawliet13, Sizacu, and Beansprout-Ninja's suggestions for some strawberries, too.

Enjoy!


Breakfast in Bed Part III:

The Baking Incident

He remembered the event two days prior that had led to this whole, unnecessary situation. Really, Ryou's anger was entirely unfounded. So what if he'd hidden his favorite food somewhere it would never be found, just so Ryou would stop eating it and pay him a little attention? Was that so much to ask?

Apparently for Ryou, it was. Bakura discovered rather quickly that Ryou had a very fine line between "It's all in good fun, and everything's lighthearted and completely normal" and "WHAT THE HELL, MAN, THIS IS NOT OKAY." That line began and ended with creampuffs.

He'd all but turned his entire house upside-down, searched in every room, in every place he could think of. The creampuffs were nowhere to be found.

As it turned out, an irrationally angry Ryou meant that he gave even less attention to Bakura than before. As in, zero. None at all. Bakura supposed he probably should have seen that coming, which was why he had hidden himself with the creampuffs, in the place Ryou would never think of looking.

He glanced down at the napkin-covered basket at his side. He could smell them—revolting and sickeningly sweet. They smelled like sugar. He lifted one corner of the napkin, staring at one with narrowed eyes.

He'd never had a creampuff before.

Pushing the napkin back into place more harshly than before, Bakura linked his traitorous fingers together so they wouldn't be concerned with doing something like snatching a creampuff. He had to stay strong, and resist the temptation.

He must not give in. He could not give in. Bakura remembered again that this was what got him into this whole mess in the first place.


"Ryou, this is the worst idea you've ever had. I don't know how to bake. Least of all…creampuffs." The way Bakura said the word suggested he placed the pastries on the same culinary level as something like cauliflower or mud. He eyed the ingredients lined up on the counter before them, innocently hiding inside their packages. When they came out, though, Ryou would see the error of his ways. He knew how these things ended, he had seen the movies. The kitchen would be covered in batter from a mixer pulled too-soon from a bowl of half-mixed ingredients, and every surface would be covered with flour from an inevitable food fight. Even though the only two inside the kitchen were himself and Ryou, and Ryou certainly wasn't the one to start those kind of juvenile fights…

"Bakura? Is something wrong?" Ryou asked.

"Yes," he answered. "You said you were going to force me to assist you in baking something."

"But I want to try it! It is my kitchen we're standing in, after all, and baking isn't as much fun when you do it alone! The food never tastes as good."

"Ryou, do you even know how to make these?" Bakura squinted at the cookbook, upside-down before him on the counter. A cheery picture of the light pastries looked right back at him, framed on both pages by the recipe's instructions.

By Bakura's standards, any plan or action worth doing could be explained in three steps or less. Any plan, therefore, with any more than that was far too complicated, useless, and by default, not worth doing. The recipe had at least fifteen, and the page ended in the middle of a sentence. Flipping the page required touching the cookbook, which would be as good as surrender to Ryou.

"Of course I do!" Ryou argued. "You just follow the instructions. We are baking, and that is final."

He could just see the rim of an empty pastry box poking its head out of the trash can. He sighed. "If I help you, are you going to share this time?"

"Of course!" Ryou said. "I'll save one for you."

"You say that now, but you'll have them all in your stomach before you can say 'Bakura, let's bake again!'"

"I don't talk like that." Ryou crossed his arms at Bakura's impersonation. "Make yourself useful and measure some water. I'll preheat the oven." He punched the buttons on the oven as Bakura gave in, half surprised that Ryou would trust him anywhere near the stove after what he'd done to Ryou's microwave a few weeks ago.

A few painful minutes later, Ryou was humming to himself as he stirred the mixture of flour, water, and butter. Bakura stood behind him, absently flicking the flour that was stuck to his fingers into the air. Flick. A little flour landed in Ryou's hair; Bakura couldn't even tell the difference.

"Stir in an egg, would you?" Ryou asked, offering him a white egg and the spoon. He turned to a higher cabinet, hunting through it for something. The harsh sound of clanging metal filled his ears until Ryou pulled out a cookie sheet, moving to set it flat on a counter on the other side of the kitchen. Moodily, Bakura cracked the egg into the pan and prodded it with the spoon.

"Well, it's never going to get mixed that way." Ryou looped his arms around Bakura, grasping both of his hands in his own, one around the spoon and the other around the handle of the pan. With quick, efficient motions, he began to stir the egg into the flour mixture, combining them until no trace of either remained, replaced with something new. Ryou's hands on Bakura's were warm and steady, guiding him as Ryou reached for another egg and cracked it into the pan. Bakura kept his arms limp, forcing Ryou to continue to manipulate them into stirring the dough together.

Bakura leaned back against Ryou. "You're right," he said. He could feel Ryou's chin resting on his right shoulder. "Cooking is fun."

"That's because I'm doing all the work." He couldn't see it, but Bakura could tell that Ryou was smiling. Good—if it made him happy, Bakura would sacrifice a little of his time and dignity into making…creampuffs…with Ryou.

"Ryou?" His hands tightened slightly around Bakura's own. His body angled itself just a little bit closer.

"Hmm?"

"I'm no expert," Bakura said, "but I think you're overstirring."

Flustered, Ryou's arms stilled and Bakura stepped back, a satisfied grin forming on his face. He tallied it up:

Bakura: 1

Creampuffs: 0

If the pastries could prepare a defense, they would have argued that the scoring could hardly count, as they had not yet been baked. Bakura knew such an end was inevitable, but if it was up to him they would never have the satisfaction of seeing an oven. He knew what their power did to Ryou, and they didn't seem to understand that it was a privilege, not a right! Just because the creampuffs could turn Ryou into some kind of sentimental, indolent creature, didn't mean that they should! If possible, the unbaked pastries would have argued back that Bakura himself didn't follow the same line of logic, so his argument was invalid. In response, Bakura would remind himself to stop listening to pastries, as nothing good ever seemed to come from it.

A few eggs later, a thin pastry dough had formed, and the oven beeped. Ryou seemed to know what that meant, and scuttled around the kitchen, preparing a flat baking sheet and tossing blobs of the dough onto it. In this form, they looked completely unappetizing.

Ryou seemed enamored by them, even in this state. He hadn't taken his eyes off of the ingredients since he started cooking, and now he shaped the dough blobs with his fingers into something resembling the shells they would eventually become.

"How long do they have to bake?" Ryou asked, and Bakura glanced down at the cookbook.

"An hour."

"You're lying. They'll burn if they're cooked over thirty." A few steps, a quick glance at the book, and a frosty glare in Bakura's direction confirmed it. "They only need eighteen."

"Am I done now?" The recipient of the frosty glare leaned against the countertop, frowning as he noticed he'd just set his elbow in a patch of flour.

"Oh, I'll let you know when it's over"—Bakura raised his head, that sounded promising—"and we can make the frosting while the shells bake!"

Slightly less promising.

As he reached for something in the refrigerator, Ryou called, "I'll whip the heavy cream!"

Slightly more promising.

"Could you put the dishes in the sink?" he asked.

Less promising.

It didn't help matters that creampuffs were about the least-masculine food Bakura could think of.

"It's a shame you're out of food coloring, otherwise we could turn the frosting pink," he muttered dryly.

"Oh, why didn't you mention that when we were at the store?" Ryou looked visibly distraught. "It's too late now, so we'll have to make do."

Bakura grinned, moving to the refrigerator. "I have a better idea." He tried to be conspicuously absent whenever Ryou wanted to go grocery shopping, but somehow Bakura had been roped into the last trip, but at least it ensured that his favorite foods were in the kitchen. The first of two containers of strawberries—'they were on sale,' he had argued—was already half-empty, but there would be enough berries inside for Bakura to eat his fill and still have enough left to add to the frosting.

He grabbed up the containers, moving to the sink and washing the strawberries as covertly as he could.

"Bakura, you left the refrigerator door open."

Not as covertly as he'd have liked. "What have you got there?" Ryou asked.

Bakura couldn't respond, he had already eaten one of the berries and was thinking about a second, discarding the stem to a corner of the counter he'd already heaped with plastic and packaging trash from their baking endeavors.

"See for yourself." He lifted a berry and pressed it to Ryou's mouth. He bit to where Bakura's fingers held the top, his lips brushing against Bakura's thumb. He tossed away the stem and reached for another, considering how much easier this would have been if he knew where Ryou kept the cutting board. He already knew where he kept the knives, third drawer on the right, next to the spoons.

"I was thinking we could add them to the frosting," he said, taking another.

"That is if you don't eat them first." Ryou let Bakura give him another, his own hands still covered with flour and now, bits of whipped cream. He opened a drawer and searched through it for the cutting board; Bakura noted its location. He took up the job of cutting up the strawberries, making sure at least every third one made its way into the bowl of frosting.

"Now what?" he asked, staring at the oven and the steadily blinking, descending lights.

"Now, we wait." Ryou looked starry-eyed at the rising dough inside while Bakura swiped another strawberry. "We wait for it to bake, then we wait for it to cool, then we wait to assemble it—"

Those creampuffs left no opportunity unseized, it seemed.

Creampuffs: 1

Bakura: 1

That had to change.

"Let's go do something instead of waiting around." Bakura paced the narrow kitchen, trying not to sound as impatient as he felt. "Anything. Let's get out of the house."

"You're not supposed to leave something cooking unattended—"

"Fine. The television, then." He tugged Ryou's arm until he followed Bakura out of the kitchen.

Ten minutes into a movie, with Bakura nicely comfortable and his arm slung over Ryou's shoulders, a ding sounded, and Ryou jumped up and fled the room with an excited, "I'll get it!"

Creampuffs: 2

Bakura: 1

The second he had been alone with the basket of freshly-assembled creampuffs, he had taken them and hidden them, hopeful that Ryou would hardly notice it, or that somehow his own presence would make up for the lack of readily-available sugary pastries.

It didn't, so he found himself escaping to hide with them, hoping to simply wait it out. Ryou could never stay angry at him for long, but then again the situations had never before involved creampuffs.

Bakura had never even had a creampuff before.

He pushed the napkin covering them back into place, linking his traitorous fingers together so they wouldn't be concerned with doing something like snatching a creampuff. He had to stay strong, and resist the temptation.

He must not give in. He could not give in.

It was a surprisingly difficult concept, and as his fingers itched closer to the basket, he found it easier to simply pluck a creampuff and bring it to his mouth for one tiny, experimental bite.

The pastry itself was fluffy and light, the frosting almost too sweet to bear, the mixed-in strawberries giving it the perfect amount of sharpness. It was too much, overwhelming his senses from a single bite. He imagined what eating the whole thing would be like, and realized he didn't have to imagine—the unfinished creampuff was in his hand, waiting to be devoured.

And devour it he did, his bites growing larger, the pastry itself becoming fluffier and more delicious the more he ate. He had never had food as perfect; he could see why Ryou liked them so much. He could see why Ryou wanted to keep them all to himself.

If eating one creampuff was this magical, he wondered what eating five would be like. A quick glance at the basket told him there were at least that many, and he extracted another. He didn't have to imagine it, not when the pastries were here and so was he, his self-control all but abandoned.

He had meant to harness the seductive power of the creampuffs, but had instead been sucked into its thrall, captivated by every texture and flavor it had to offer. He was no match for them, he realized. It was better to just give in to them.

He continued to eat, and at last plunged his hand into the basket to find only crumbs. He leaned back, the slightest twinge of worry growing like a seed in his stomach. What would be the chances that Ryou would be angrier at him now that he'd eaten them all?


He was in the process of attempting to escape out a window when Ryou caught him.

"Where are the creampuffs?" He didn't ask so much as yell, and Bakura had long since stopped keeping score between him and the preferred pastries.

"They're…still here," he said, slipping back inside and closing the window so Ryou wouldn't get any bright ideas about pushing him out. "Just not in a form that—"

"You've eaten them!"

"Well, so would you, but you don't see me complaining about that," he started, but Ryou's eyes narrowed further and he took a step closer.

"All of them?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'll make it up to you." Bakura's mind raced through possible solutions, reminding himself that he needed to practice his window-climbing more, for the future. He knew if he bought anymore creampuffs for Ryou, they'd be in danger of consumption from the both of them, and he wouldn't be able to run fast enough if he ate them all again.


The grocery store had creampuffs listed on sale, so he had picked up two boxes with the intent that one would go to each, but Ryou had taken one look and declared the number sufficient for the day.

He'd had one additional corollary, but Bakura found he didn't mind it as he lifted a pastry from the box and held it out for Ryou to eat. His fingers still threatened to change directions and eat the creampuffs himself, but Ryou's blissful expression nearly made up for it. He supposed that was a mark in favor of both the pastries and himself, and chalked it up to a draw.

"Don't worry," Ryou said with a grin. "You can have every third one."

The End.


A/N:

Aww, they're so cute. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and please shoot me a review with your comments or additional food-pairing suggestions! I found several recipes for creampuffs online which I used for this chapter, so that much should have been accurate.

Also, since there seem to be so many of you reading this, if you like what you're reading, chances are you'll like the rest of my writing. If you're just in it for the Tendershipping, I debuted another story today with that pairing you might enjoy. If you're just in it for the crack, I'm afraid I can't help you until the next chapter.

Thanks for reading!

~Jess