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“Fuck!” was the first thing Aizen heard as he awakened from his slumber. Had he not recognised the voice, he would’ve immediately used his magic to eradicate whoever it was that had trespassed into his house. But luckily for them, he could identify their voice even in his sleep. Not that he could have seriously harmed Ichigo, his sweet young love, given how powerful and talented the orange head was. But the commotion caused by the clash between his attack spell and Ichigo's defence spell would’ve been unwelcome and attract snooping eyes who didn’t know how and when to mind their own business.
Now rousing from his sleep, he strode towards the kitchen where he knew his lover was at, judging from the clacking sounds of the various pots and pans.
“Love?” he softly called out, voice slightly raspy and deep from hours of disuse.
“Shit! When did you wake up? I didn’t sense you at all,” Ichigo squeaked and he nearly dropped the spoon he was using to currently stir some weird concoction that was turning an alarming shade of black.
Aizen smirked at his words. When someone as powerful as Ichigo praised his skills in magic (even if it involved something as simple as completely masking your presence), it always stroked his ego at just the right spot. Apparently, Ichigo realised this as well since he directed a halfhearted scowl to him before paying attention to his… creation. Aizen briefly wondered what kind of potion Ichigo was creating since this one seemed a little too different from what most potions usually resembled. However, his darling had often surpassed expectations and he surmised this was one of those cases.
He slowly circled his arms around Ichigo from behind and lazily nibbled on the exposed skin. Ichigo purred at the attention and bared his neck so that he had access to even more skin. He whispered in his ear, knowing fully well how sensitive they were, “And what are you doing, sneaking into my place like a petty thief, hmm?”
Ichigo shivered at the tone and at the way the older man’s warm breath hit his ears before shaking his head and lightly elbowing Aizen’s ribs, “Shoo! I need to concentrate on this porridge and you’re disturbing me. See how it’s turned so black as soon as you stepped inside the kitchen.”
Aizen’s eyebrows rose at that statement. This was supposed to be a porridge?! To be honest, in his entire life, he had never seen anyone cook so terribly that he’d mistaken a dish for a spell.
‘Only you, Ichigo,’ he thought fondly before chuckling and questioning, “Why did you simply not use your magic to create a dish, darling? It would have only taken a second for you to do so and would have been… a lot less taxing and much more fruitful.”
Ichigo slightly turned to face him with a pout, “What’s the point of me telling you why I’m doing this? Can’t you understand that I’m doing this to impress you? I wanna show you how much I love you, ok? Ain’t no way a magically prepared dish would do the job right.”
Aizen blinked at his lover’s words before gracing him with a soft smile that made Ichigo flush greatly. “I appreciate the effort and sentiment, darling but I think it is a better idea for me to prepare this porridge, hmm? I do not think porridges of any kind are… supposed to blacken to this extent,” Aizen murmured the last part to himself but Ichigo heard him (given their proximity).
The younger’s shoulders slightly drooped as tears pooled in his eyes, “I’ve ruined it, haven’t I?”
Aizen immediately grew alarmed at the sad tone and shook his head, “Of course not my beloved. You intended to prove to me how much you love me, and I think you did a wonderful job at that. I am immensely pleased that you have tried to perform an activity you are… not very skilled at yet to please me. I am sure you will improve given enough time but you have immensely lifted my mood and my spirits with only your thoughts and effort,” he turned Ichigo around so that they were now properly facing each other before kissing him lightly on his forehead.
If he slightly sniffed at the other’s orange-scented shampoo (which the younger insisted was perfect given his hair colour) during the kiss, then it was only for him to know. This close to Ichigo's face, he could easily make out the lightly coloured freckles right above his cheeks that were usually invisible to the naked eye and felt the urge to kiss every one of them. That was an activity he would have to save for later, unfortunately, as he could now clearly smell the mixture of burning oats and milk and inwardly sighed. Using a basic wind and water spell combination, he swiftly cleared out the contents of the pot (the porridge was simply beyond salvageable at this point) and cleaned the dishes until they were sparkling clean.
When he finally paid attention to his lover, he noticed the sad and mournful look on his face as the younger gazed at the waste bag the porridge was dumped in with a hurt expression. Inwardly cursing himself for his rather insensitive actions, he called out to his lover who looked at him sadly, before asking him if he wanted to cook some porridge together. Ichigo’s eyes slightly lit up at the proposition before he drooped down and mumbled, “But I wanted to be the one to cook it. Besides, it was supposed to be a surprise anyways. You know how people serve breakfast to their lovers in bed… I wanted to wake you up and do the same.”
Aizen gave him a fond smile. How was it possible for anyone to be this lovely and cute? Ichigo, who was usually bratty and snarky, was behaving like how a cute and shy bride would. It made his heart flutter and smile stretch almost painfully. “You have surprised me nonetheless, darling. I did not wake up and expect to see you in my kitchen, trying your hardest to prepare a wonderful meal for me. And do not fret, I will simply guide you as you cook, all right? You will still be the one cooking the meal,” he reassured his partner whose eyes slowly lit up at the prospect of him preparing breakfast.
Aizen felt as if he could stare at those hazel-chocolate orbs for hours. He wondered if anyone had ever bothered to inform Ichigo that his eyes were a reflection of his moods and emotions. Whenever the orange-head was immensely angry, his eyes would change drastically with his sclera turning black and pupils sharing the same colour whereas his irises would become a pale yellowish-gold, often reminding him of a demon. Whenever his mind was clouded with lust, his brown eyes would turn pitch black, with a ring of bright royal gold surrounding his pupils.
Aizen, however, liked it the most whenever the berry’s eyes would crinkle with a mixture of brown and gold, creating a very light shade of olive green that was almost unnoticeable. He’d learnt very quickly that the berry’s eyes only took that particular hue when his happiness was caused by a feeling of immeasurable love. And to be on the receiving end of Ichigo’s love and be the only person (other than his family) to be able to stare at those eyes, gave him a high that no drug would be able to bring him to. If Ichigo ever dared to direct such a gaze to anyone else other than him, he would kill that person and remove all traces of that person’s memories from Ichigo’s brain after using his magic to thoroughly dispose of that person’s remains.
“All right. So, I wanted to make a cinnamon porridge and I found this recipe…” Ichigo trailed off and began telling him what he knew so far.
Aizen’s smile slightly dropped as he realised what the list of ingredients Ichigo mentioned would taste like. ‘Oh Ichigo,’ he thought, his heart swelling with so much love that he felt it might burst. Suddenly, memories of a beautiful and familiar woman feeding him (when he was a lot younger and malnourished) a sweet-tasting porridge flooded his brain.
He cut Ichigo off mid-speech with an ardent kiss as he pulled the younger so hard and close to him that he was sure the other would sport a bruise matching the shape of his arms much later. But for now, he wanted to badly kiss the other and meld their hearts together as much as he could. He had the irrational sensation of bringing the other as close to him as he could, so near that they could instead be considered a single being. He devoured the other’s mouth as if it were the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten; as if it were an oasis he’d found in a desert. Ichigo mewled in his mouth and reluctantly pushed him away, with a shy smile gracing his lips as he whispered, “Porridge first Sōsuke. You can always have me later.”
“I will hold you on to that,” Aizen whispered before giving him a quick peck and a once over at the ingredients Ichigo had prepared. Everything seemed perfect, the bananas were sliced appropriately and the strawberries correctly hulled and halved. Which meant that Ichigo messed up in assembling the materials in the pot and heating the mixture together.
“Darling, you will first have to mix the oats, sugar, cinnamon, milk and half of the sliced bananas in the saucepan. Do not forget to stir them as you bring them to a boil,” Aizen instructed Ichigo who diligently followed the instructions. As the younger cooked, Aizen realised that Ichigo tended to cook everything in high heat without stirring frequently as he believed the food wouldn’t cook that way. However, this would lead to him burning his dish, thus rendering it inedible. Luckily, he had an experienced and knowledgeable boyfriend by his side this time.
“You’re doing a good job, my love. Now turn down the heat and cook for around five minutes. Don’t forget to stir the mixture,” the bespectacled mage spoke and slowly hugged his partner from behind with one arm and used the other to support Ichigo’s hand that was currently stirring the porridge. His sweet hummed a popular song (after muttering a soft “Flirt” that sounded suspiciously happy) as Aizen lazily rested his chin on the crook of his neck (where he could smell the wonderful combination of his orange soap [he really was obsessed with orange, wasn’t he?] and his natural odour).
Ichigo’s body thrummed with excitement as the porridge slightly cooled and was about to be served. “I’ll fetch the bowls,” Aizen whispered and used his magic to open a drawer and make two decently sized bowls fly in their direction. After dividing the porridge equally amongst them, Ichigo then proceeded to carefully arrange the bowls with the rest of the chopped bananas, strawberries, a pinch of cinnamon, and a little bit of yoghurt with a drizzle of honey and maple syrup. In Aizen’s opinion, the food looked and smelt absolutely delicious.
Ichigo snapped his fingers and suddenly a lit candle appeared in the centre of his porridge. “Happy birthday Sōsuke,” Ichigo bashfully wished him, a beautiful blush adorning his rosy cheeks and ears. Aizen gave him a rueful smile (as he imagined how his bleak life would’ve continued to be had he not decided to buckle up and talk to Ichigo on that fateful day when they literally ran into each other), alarming Ichigo who thought that the man didn’t like his gift.
“Fret not my beloved. I was simply thanking the heavens for gracing me with your presence in my life. I cannot imagine myself without you and your love anymore,” he confessed.
Ichigo gave him a smile with so much love that Aizen wanted to capture the moment forever. “You know I’ll never leave you Sō. Even if you turn out to become the worst criminal this world has ever seen, I’ve already given my heart to you. There’s no going back from that, so you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not,” the berry boy finished with a smug look.
“Indeed. Now let us taste this dish you have put so much effort into, shall we?” Aizen asked before kissing Ichigo’s cheek, causing the other to reward him with a bright smile in return.
“You better close your eyes and make a wish before the candle melts, Sō,” Ichigo told his boyfriend excitedly. Usually, Aizen Sōsuke would’ve firmly denied performing such a childish act but today was a day full of surprises, it seemed. He complied with his sweet’s wishes and made a wish before blowing his candle. Ichigo looked at him curiously but knew better than to ask his boyfriend what his wish was. If Sōsuke had really made a wish then he was sure that it was going to be personal. And he wasn’t the type to intrude on his partner’s space.
After comfortably seating themselves at the dining table, Ichigo expectantly watched Sōsuke take a bite of his porridge. “How is it?” he asked with childish wonder.
“Excellent, darling! For someone who has never entered a kitchen before this, you have done outstandingly well,” Aizen praised his darling who preened at the compliment.
“Really?! I’m so glad you like it! In that case, I’ll make more for you in the future,” Ichigo told him excitedly.
“I would love that,” Aizen murmured before digging into his breakfast. He was starving after all.
“Mhmm, you better finish that quickly. There’s another gift that I’ve prepared for you that I’m sure you’ll love,” Ichigo informed him before giving him a salacious smile.
‘Ahh, there’s my vixen. I was wondering if he’d remain a kitten for the rest of the day,’ Aizen thought and gave him a sexy smirk of his own. It seemed that this birthday would probably be one of the best birthdays he’d celebrated in a while and he couldn’t wait for the rest!