Cooking with Combustibles: Chapter 1 - Mise En Place
Or, “To Get a Fusion, You Need More Than Just One Egg”
Or, “Love Means Never Having to Say It Out Loud”
Hee hee hee…
“I…didn’t know you were so good at this sort of thing.”
The music was something electronic, with a solid bass. Mumen usually didn’t like this genre, and he definitely didn’t usually like anything this loud, but it was easy to get past it, with the way Sonic was dancing. The sway and bucking of his hips was mesmerizing, his long, black-clad body gorgeously twirling. His entire being seemed to flow between the notes of music, and when he made eye contact with him, Mumen practically swooned.
“There are a lot of things about me you don’t know,” the ninja said, crouching and crawling up to Mumen’s lap.
“If it means I keep getting surprises like this one, I’m okay with that,” he said, gasping as he was suddenly pulled to his feet. “Nonono, I am not good at this.”
That made Sonic smirk. “You don’t have to do anything. Just listen to the music.”
Mumen’s feet felt heavy and awkward, but he couldn’t say no to him, so he tried hard to relax as Sonic took his hands and pulled him in close. He definitely wasn’t prepared when he leapt up, wrapping his legs around Mumen’s waist and letting go, dropping back. Mumen had to quickly adjust, gripping his hips to keep him from falling on his head. “A little warning next time, huh?” he panted.
“It’s a good thing you’re such a natural,” Sonic insisted from his place upside down, flexing his abs to come back up to him chest-to-chest. He draped his arms around the hero’s shoulders.
“It’s a good thing you weigh like fifty pounds!” Mumen laughed and rested his forehead against Sonic’s, who was chuckling too.
It all felt so good that Mumen didn’t notice the music skip until it turned off entirely, and there was a strange blue glow that was getting very bright in the apartment.
The entire house was quiet to an uncharacteristic degree, since Zenko was on a school field trip for two days. Badd and Garou had done every sordid thing they could think of in the first several hours of solitude, and it was only when they had eaten, showered and done it again (and again), the two finally passed out on Badd’s bed.
“C’mere,” Badd had said when they got under the covers, turning on his side and pulling Garou back into him.
“Why the fuck am I the little spoon here? ‘m bigger than you,” he said, sleepily. He was the one who had insisted on the last two rounds, finishing by saying that the only reason they were stopping was because of Badd. Truth be told, though, he was exhausted in the most satisfying way.
Badd squeezed him hard, kissing his shoulder. “’Cause I’m badder than you.”
He felt Garou stomach twitch with a little laugh. “Fine,” he acquiesced.
And that’s how they had stayed for the most part, Badd curled up against Garou’s back, the Human Monster holding one of his wrists in his long fingers loosely. It was all simpler in sleep. When there was no one to listen to their big talk, their bodies took over establishing how much they belonged together.
Then, there was that light, ruining a perfectly good lazy afternoon nap.
“Oi, Genos, look at me, okay?”
Those metal legs were up on his shoulders, giving him perfect leverage to hit Genos’s deepest point. Saitama could tell that he was doing his best to hold off his climax, waiting for him, and it was insanely hot. Genos’s hands grabbed the futon cover in their steel grip, and the pleasure surging through him was still making him close his eyes.
Saitama couldn’t help smiling. He rolled his hips, inspiring Genos to moan.
He reached down and touched his cheek gently. When Genos turned his head towards him, he could see the glow of gold in those black orbs. “You first. I want to see you, Genos.” It came out husky, and it must have been just the right thing to say, because the cyborg’s body immediately responded, taking him over the edge.
“Saitama!” he cried.
The hero grabbed his thighs, conscientiously trying to avoid denting them as he came to completion. Once he felt relaxed again, he reached down and gently pulled Genos up to his chest, wrapping his arms around him, fingers fluffing the blond hair. “You’re so perfect, Genos,” he whispered.
There was a small beeping that Saitama recognized as Genos’s sensors, and he looked up. He could hear Genos start to say something, but he was too distracted by the wave of turquoise energy that came through the wall to hear him.
The ring of blue shorted out a few transformers and caused electrical outages that would last a few hours. That was the extent of the effect for most people in the ten block radius from where it was deployed.
However, what no one else realized was that where there had been six super-human individuals, there were now three.
At the exact same second, Runner, Barou and Gentama opened their eyes for the first time.
Took me forever to finish because I’m never home any more… The drawing is mine but the strawberry baby belongs to Stickydoona! My first contribution to the one punch man fandom and its this precious fusion child. I love this strawberry <3 credits to the creator: http://stickydoona.tumblr.com/
OKAY SO YOU WANT TO GET DRUNK RIGHT? OF COURSE YOU DO. YOU’RE OF AGE AND READY TO TAKE A LOAD OFF. THIS DRINK IS FOR ANYONE WHO KNOWS THE WOES OF THE WORK WEEK.
TECHNICALLY THIS DRINK IS SPIKED STRAWBERRY PUNCH, BUT IT WAS MADE WITH MIKE’S AND AMSTERDAM VODKA.
SO SOUND THE WAR HORN IT’S TIME TO FORAGE.
HERE’S WHAT YOU NEED TO RAID AND/OR PURCHASE
THIS MAKES TWO DRINKS BECAUSE YOU’RE OUT TO PILLAGE AND YOUR SECOND IN COMMAND NEEDS A DRINK AS WELL
SIX-EIGHT WHOLE STRAWBERRIES.
A WHOLE LEMON.
TWO CANS OF MIKE’S HARD LEMONADE.
THE TOOLS YOU’LL NEED ARE
HERE’S WHAT THE FUCK YOU DO.
TAKE YOUR LEMON AND BODY SLAM IT TO MAKE IT JUICIER. WHILE IT THINKS ABOUT THE MISTAKES IT’S MADE MOVE ON TO THE STRAWBERRIES.
SHAKE YOUR FIST AT THE STRAWBERRIES, PRETENDING IT’S YOUR BOSS AND SCREAM TO THEM WHAT YOU REALLY FEEL ABOUT YOUR JOB.
THEN CUT TOPS OF STRAWBERRIES OFF LIKE YOU’RE REMOVING YOUR BOSS’S HEAD, AND SLICE THEM IN HALF. PUT IN BOTTOM OF EMPTY SHAKER. GRIND YOUR BOSS INTO A FINE PULP WITH THE PESTLE.
TAKE THE LEMON YOU DEFEATED IN COMBAT AND CUT IT IN HALF, SLICE OFF TWO SLICES TO GARNISH YOUR DRINKS WITH LATER. FANCY AS FUCK.
PRETEND YOU’RE WRINGING THE THROAT OF THE LAST CUSTOMER WHO COMPLAINED TO YOU AND SQUEEZE ALL THE JUICE OUT OF THE LEMON. DON’T WORRY ABOUT SEEDS. THEY’RE TOO AFRAID OF YOU TO FALL INTO THE DRINK ANYWAYS.
ADD ICE BECAUSE YOU NEED TO SYMBOLICALLY REPRESENT THE LAYER OF ICE THAT HAS FORMED OVER YOUR HEART SINCE STARTING CUSTOMER SERVICE.
JUST POUR IT.
SHAKE YOUR CONCOCTION VIGOROUSLY. AS IF YOU’RE RATTLING THE HEADS OF YOUR CORPORATE BOSSES TRYING TO MAKE THEM UNDERSTAND WHY THEIR NEW POLICY SUCKS.
PRACTICE YOUR DELEGATION SKILLS AND MAKE THE GLASSES RIM THEMSELVES WHILE YOU’RE SHAKING. LOWER FUCKING MANAGEMENT EXPERIENCE MOTHERFUCKERS.
POUR YOUR CONCOCTION INTO YOUR GLASSES, CAREFUL NOT TO RUIN THEIR RIM. THE GLASSES WORKED HARD. APPRECIATE YOUR SUBORDINATES.
TOP WITH MIKE’S HARD LEMONADE. ADD THE LEMONS TO THE TOP OF THE DRINK AND PUT A STRAW THROUGH THE MIDDLE. WHY? BECAUSE IT’S THE FUCKING POLICY. I DON’T KNOW. I JUST WORK HERE. FUCK.