Spice it Up

First story for Yullen Week (lolololol oh that pairing name), and I'm glad I am participating! :D I dedicate all of these stories to my loving spouse, Divva, because she oddly believes in me all the time. Love you! :3

Seasonal theme, and I'm thinking…Alternate Universe. :D Thanks for plot convenience!

Disclaimed.

"I hate spicy foods," Kanda muttered in a tone that sounded oddly enough like he was ready to start complaining. "Don't put any of that shit in my bowl."

"Have you even tried spicy foods to whine, Kanda?" Allen asked, running his fingers through his hair. "I mean, really, your chosen diet is rather limited. Besides, it's cold outside. It'll heat us up."

"Shut the hell up." The Japanese man crossed his arms, leaning forward on the dining room table. "Just, don't put any of that—whoa, what the hell? Aren't you listening to me?"

"Not really." A plastic cylinder of red pepper was upsided into the soup pot, and Allen hummed to an well-known Christmas beat as he ran a finger over the text in the cookbook beside him. "Oh, it says that I'm supposed to add cayenne pepper. That's good for getting your blood flowing, you should know."

Kanda narrowed his eyes. "Is it spicy?" he asked suspiciously.

"A tad. But, you'll barely even taste it!" The British teenager searched the cabinets of his kitchen with a smile, and pulled out a small container of red powder.

"It looks really spicy." Kanda was not impressed. "I won't eat it."

"Then you can simply starve, because I don't know what this soba you speak of is."

"It's better than this shit, that's for sure." The twenty-year-old man barely held back a wince as the container was dumped into the pot. "If this crap is spicy, I'm killing you. Just so you know."

"Well, you keep saying that, but you never go through with it. Poor boy, it's such a shame that God bestowed you with a brain that you barely know how to use." Allen clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disdain. "Now, sit still and keep that hole of yours shut."

"I'd like to shut your hole."

Allen paused. "That sounded like a really disturbing come-on," he commented, snickering. "Don't say it again."

"Don't tell me what to say and what not to say." Kanda pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing. "Why is there water at the edge of my eyes?" he asked irritably.

"Oh, that's probably the air." The seventeen-year-old grinned. "You're just ultrasensitive to the cayenne, don't worry."

He meant it, but the older man just kept complaining. Lord, is there anything in his life that won't make him whine?

"You just added a fucking red pepper to the pot!" Kanda snapped, pointing at said pot accusingly.

"Oh, calm down. It's for flavor."

"You're trying to kill me, little punk."

And this is why Allen remembers why no one his age really dates older men. Because they complain about everything, and the sex is barely enough to make him ignore that. Yet, even if it's barely, it's still enough.

Plus, he was ridiculously hot, and that was the only positive adjective in his dictionary when it came to Kanda.

"Mm hmm," Allen hummed in agreement, smiling at his never-stopping-the-bitching lover. "I'm always trying to kill you, silly man. Now, be quiet, we're almost done." He turned the heat up to maximum, and the gas flame erupted around the pot.

"What the fuck. I give up." Kanda waved a hand in dismissal. "I bet this will rape my tongue, you little bastard."

"Such verbal abuse," the white-haired boy said, tutting in disdain. "I swear, have you no faith in me?"

"I don't."

"Then that's a personal problem."

"I could've sworn we broke up or something."

Allen sighed. "Well, yes, I constantly try to get rid of you, but like a sad, pitiful puppy, you keep ending back up on my doorstep." He smirked, his gray eyes heavily lidded. "You're just lucky Cross isn't here, or your dogged arse would be back out on the cold, frozen mat, and I doubt you'd be very welcome."

"Hey. Shut up." The Japanese man stretched his arms back. "If you'd ditch the old man, we wouldn't be having this problem, brat."

"What? Holding hands behind the couch when he's here? Kissing at small intervals of time when he isn't looking? Fucking in your car's backseat and in the bathroom?" Allen huffed. "I always thought we were rather adventurous in our affair."

"Oh my God you do not shut up. Ever. What the fuck?"

"It's done!" Allen smiled gleefully as he turned the heat down to low, and he reached into his cupboard for a bowl. "I swear, you're gonna love it."

"If I die, you're first on the 'Asses to be Haunted' list."

"Lavi?"

"He's number two, but whatever." Kanda rapped his fingers against the flat surface of the table impatiently. "C'mon, just give me a damn bowl."

"Bipolar arse," the British teenager stated with a grin, dipping a spoon into the pot. The twenty-year-old narrowed his eyes at the way the spoon almost seemed to deteriorate within the unhealthily red soup. "Stop looking so bloody suspicious, prick. Just eat."

"Urgh." The bowl was slid in front of him, and Kanda was not very placated at the way the soup still seemed to boil, even away from the heat. A large bubble popped almost angrily, and Allen placed a spoon in his hand. "You can do it," he encouraged with a smile. "It's just a bowl of soup."

"I'm going to die."

"Well, if you do die from a bowl of soup," Allen commented idly. "Then that'll show me how much of a man you really were. I always assumed that you'd die from something more…ah…hardcore."

"Like a porno?" Whoa, what the hell has this kid been watching?

"Sure, why not. Now, quit being such a pansy and eat the bloody soup."

"Che'yeah, bloody is right." Kanda dipped the spoon into the red liquid slowly, his eyes watering from the overload of this 'cayenne pepper'. It was so poisoned, the little brat.

He brought it to his lips slowly, trying to ignore the pure redness of it.

The soup went down his throat.

He paused.

Allen looked interested. "So, how is it?" he asked.

His reply was only a strangled sob, and Kanda tore out of his chair, gripping his throat.

"Hot?" the teenager asked, grinning.

"I-I-I'll fucking kill you—" Kanda's voice ran out as he frantically searched for liquid, and any type.

His younger lover rolled his eyes and leaned over his bowl of soup, taking a sip straight from the source of his pain. "Hmm…" he hummed in thought. "Maybe I seasoned it a little too much."

Kanda, who at this point had his head dunked underneath the kitchen sink's faucet, glared at him from between wet bangs. "Oh, fuck you," he rasped, coughing lowly in his throat. "This is the last time."

"Aww," Allen sighed. "I really wanted to make a nice soup for you for the Christmas spirit."

"Yeah, well, you failed. Come on, we're going out." The Japanese man ripped a paper towel from the roll and tried to wipe his face with dignity.

"Going out where? It's freezing!"

"Quit complaining and put on your fucking jacket. The old man's due back any minute and I ain't choking on any more of that shit you call soup for the life of me." Kanda glared for emphasis.

Allen made a 'tsk' sound in disdain. "Such harsh words," he murmured, walking towards the doorway for the coat rack. "I hope we're going somewhere warm."

"And if we aren't, well," Kanda shrugged on his own jacket. "Then just know that my car has a heater. We'll just ride."

"That sounds oddly romantic and entirely unlike you."

"Well, so does your face." He huffed. "Now, let's go."

END

D'aww the homo.

Whoa, that's the closest thing to gay sex I've gotten to in, like, five months! The mere mention of it! I think I need to up my game, yeah. :D