Your Vanilla Scent (Junhao)

Myungho

"Let's get messy," it turned out, was not a sexual phrase, even though Myungho had maybe, kind of, sort of been hoping it was. But what Jun had them do—after sticking the plate of finished pancakes in the oven to keep them warm—was mess up the living room.

They tugged and tossed the couch pillows until they were in disarray. They set the coffee table on its side up against the wall. It was all silly and ridiculous, but every time Vee's voice threatened to ring out in Myungho's head and tell him so, Jun was speaking up right in front of him instead, encouraging Myungho to flip a book onto the floor or kick a corner of the rug up.

The best part was when they traipsed into Jun's room and tugged all the bedding from his neatly made bed (which had Myungho wondering: had Jun made it so neat for Myungho?) and piled it onto the floor, making a sort of nest out of the blankets and pillows.

When the oven beeped at them, Jun went through all the toppings options with Myungho, letting him put on as much whipped cream and syrup as he wanted, stacking them into a sizable tower on a plate for them both. Myungho loved that they were sharing a plate; something about that felt cozy and intimate to him.

They climbed back into their nest, and before Myungho knew it, he'd eaten almost all the pancakes ("So good! I can't believe we made these!").

He looked up to see Jun eyeing him with brows raised high.

Oops.

Myungho had forgotten how much was normal for a human to eat. It had been so long since he'd needed human food that he usually just ate whatever tasted good and was directly in front of him. He'd learned a lot about what was normal for humans from everything he read or watched, but books didn't usually specify amounts, and while on TV, humans always had food in front of them, they rarely seemed to actually be eating it.

Myungho wiped a stray crumb from the corner of his mouth. "That wasn't a regular number of pancakes to consume, was it?" he asked sheepishly.

Jun pulled down the blanket that had been partially covering Myungho, looking over his admittedly petite form. "Where does it all go?" he asked, a note of wonder in his voice.

Myungho patted the soft swell of his belly and handed Jun the one remaining pancake. "Just...poof. Magically gone, I guess."

"Magically...," Jun mused, cutting into his pancake.

Myungho licked his lips—had he gotten all the crumbs?—noticing that when he did so, Jun's eyes gained that heated look he'd seen in them the other night. Because Jun wanted Myungho. Wasn't that great? Jun wanted to kiss him and touch him, and maybe if Myungho was good, he would even work that big cock inside of him.

Myungho squirmed in place on the blankets, thinking his dirty thoughts while he watched Jun bite into his pancake. Myungho wanted more lessons—really, really wanted more lessons—but he wasn't quite sure how to get things started. He knew humans could, and often did, flirt with varying degrees of subtlety, but Myungho's brain didn't really work that way. Double entendres and coded messages weren't quite his things.

So he went with saying exactly what he was thinking. "I want to try mouth stuff with you."

Jun sort of choked on the bite of pancake he'd taken, and Myungho started pounding him on the back helpfully—although it didn't seem as helpful as they made it look on TV. Maybe Myungho was doing it wrong?

Either way, eventually Jun got control of himself and set his plate aside, clearing his throat. "You want my mouth on you, sweetheart?"

Oh, that "sweetheart" was so nice. Just as nice as "kitten," really. It was kind of...boyfriendly, wasn't it? That Jun gave him sweet little nicknames? He didn't look like the sort of person who did that with a lot of people. So maybe Myungho was special, in that way?