Disclaimer: I don't own anything and no money was made from this.
Theme: 01. Ice
Rating: PG for mild suggestive contents
The boy was like an ice cream, Silver recalled. While his features were well-formed, his demeanor was rather cold at first. Once he starts melting, his smooth and silky texture spreads all over and his allure is just irresistible.
During their voyage on the Legacy, there were times when the cyborg was assigned a special task by Mr. Arrow, which was to make ice cream for their felinoid captain. As much as she ran a tight ship, she still had a natural liking for confectioneries just like any other ordinal women in general. However, her dignity and self-control as a topflight spacer and the Captain of a prestigious spaceship held her back from asking for something as trivial as an ice cream for her innocent stress reliever. So, her considerate First Mate sometimes arranged it when she seemed to be in need of it.
Morph intently watched the milky mixture inside the bowl held by Silver's good arm, being stirred with his other cybernetic–now turned into a whisk–arm. Right next to the pink blob, the cook's two-month protégé was wiping off some water droplets remained on the washed dishes, while taking a glance at Silver every few minutes or so. Silver chuckled lightheartedly, saying,
"Don' worry lad, I'll keep plenty fer ye."
"I didn't mean–"
Jim instantly protested, only to be interrupted by Morph's dissatisfied chirping sound.
"An' fer ye too, Morphy."
Elated, Morph was almost jumping into the creamy liquid as soon as the bowl was put down on the kitchen counter, but prevented by the cabin boy's swift hands. Then he hesitated whether to resume his protest, but thought better of it and casually shelved the last dish he had taken charge of towel drying.
"Which flavor will it be this time?"
Jim asked, leaning his lithe body towards the cyborg's organic side until they made a slight contact. Silver stiffened just a little–which went unnoticed by his pup, fortunately–before he brushed the boy's earlobe with his good thumb in jest.
"Wow, what the–"
Amused by Jim's sudden start, Silver watched his cabin boy recognize the sweet aroma gradually engulfing him.
The hazy blues of Jim's round eyes tentatively reflected his mentor, and soon tinted with mild irritation.
"Oh great, now I smell like one!"
His attempt to wipe off the vanilla essence applied to the backside of his ear was in vain; actually, rubbing there promoted the diffusion of aroma. Sensing the sweetness, Morph chirped happily and started to suck on the source of the temptation.
Reflexively, a raw sound of his vulnerability escaped from Jim's perfectly proportioned lips, and at that very moment Mr. Arrow just dropped in at the galley to check on the assignment. The cook could swear he witnessed a slight, a barely noticeable blush appearing on the officer's cheek.