Angelcakes

“The problem with you, Herr Feathers, is you take everything so seriously,” said Klavier Gavin between slurps of phở. He sat back, satisfied with his meal, and grinned at the waitress, who tittered. Klavier moved as if he sought to bring an element of glamour and class to the restaurant. Machi liked the place well enough on its own, even if it could be considered a hole in the wall. He liked the goldfish tank, and LCD screens that blared what appeared to a combination of karaoke, traditional Vietnamese dancing, and dadaist performance art. It was usually deserted in the hours after school before lunch time, which made it an ideal spot to meet a friend to chat. Plus, the food was cheap and delicious.

Klavier offered the shy waitress a smile. The girl reddened right down to her collar.

“There is parsley in your teeth,” Machi muttered.

He was still chatting up the waitress. “Why yes, of course I’d sign an autograph. To Hong Hanh…”

“…Or maybe could be cilantro. They are not using parsley so much…”

“With love, Klavier Gavin.”

“…Tell me why it is necessary to read what you’re writing out loud…”

The girl was gone. Klavier turned his easy smile onto Machi. There was still something green in his teeth, but Machi gave up on telling him. Eventually, he’d check himself in some mirror or window or other shiny surface and figure it out. “Where were we, Herr Feathers?”

“You have to tell me. How do I lose my virginity?”

“How should I know the answer to that?” Klavier was mildly surprised.

“How are you losing yours?”

“I don’t really remember,” Klavier confessed. “I think it involved boxed wine, Prince records, and a really horrible experience with those sensation-numbing condoms…”

Machi poked at the remains of his sticky rice. “Then tell me how to seduce Wocky.”

“You two haven’t done it yet? I’m surprised, how long have you been together?”

“One year, four months.”

“Hmm. He’s not secretly straight, is he?”

Machi considered this for a moment, squishing his rice with his fork. He thought of how Wocky liked to grab him by the chin and kiss him unexpectedly. He thought of the times he felt Wocky’s erection trapped against his thigh, trapped beneath fabric. “No way.”

“Are you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know!” Machi practically shouted. “I here, I hot for him, why he does he not want me?”

Everyone in the tiny restaurant seemed to pause and wait for Klavier’s response. Even the goldfish.

“Have you tried asking him?”

“No,” Machi admitted, voice lowering sheepishly. “That is too awkward. I know he love me, how could I introduce that sort of question?”

“I’m not here to tell you how to live your life. But, it’s usually better to know your partner before the ball gag comes out, ja?”

“What?”

Klavier laughed quietly, reaching across the table to pat Machi on the head. In thanks for the autograph, Hong Hanh brought them two iced teas with condensed milk. Klavier thanked her and took care of the bill before Machi had a chance to protest.

They were walking out o the elevator into the Prosecutor’s Office before Klavier actually got to the meat of the matter.

“Do you know what the sexiest thing is, Herr Feathers?”

“Whole wheat flour?”

“Confidence,” Klavier purred. “If you want to seduce your boy, you need confidence.”

“Confidence,” Machi echoed, taking out a small black notebook from his back pocket and jotting that down.

“If you want your man to want you, you need to show him you’re worth wanting,” said Klavier, swaying his hips and running a hand down his perfectly tanned chest. “Put on a show.”

Machi could do nothing but stare in shocked bewilderment. “Is this behaving like an adult?”

“You must be confident, ja, and think sexy thoughts. You must think you are the sexiest thing on the planet, and then, your partner will feel the same.”

Klavier was so entranced by his own sexy thoughts that he walked backward into Detective Ema Skye. As a consequence of this, he was mercilessly pelted with snackoos.

“You are not sexy, you glimmerous fop! If you came onto anyone normal in bed with that act, they’d be traumatized! In fact, I’m this close to suing your swinging butt for sexual harassment!”

Klavier looked aghast. “I know more about the art of loving than you, fräulein!” Apparently, he was far more concerned about the insult to his prowess than any impending lawsuits.

“Whatever. You haven’t gotten laid in years.”

“How did you—”

“I performed a scientific investigation on the condom in your wallet. It’s ancient.” Ema grabbed Machi by the arm, leaving a sputtering Klavier behind as they ducked back into the elevator. “The only effective way to do anything,” Ema informed him, “is to do a scientific investigation and form a plan off your findings.”

“Are you suggesting doing experiment on my boyfriend?” Machi glowered.

“In this case, more general research might be best,” said Ema agreeably. “But my computer’s the most powerful in the entire police department! We’ll definitely get you something helpful.”

Nearly an hour later, Machi was seriously considering asking for the twentieth time how a perfectly ordered list of aphrodisiacs and flirting techniques, ordered in number of reported effectiveness and popularity of method, would really help him get Wocky into bed. Watching Ema was like watching a painter – one of those crazy ones that threw cans of paint at canvas and was proclaimed a genius. Machi was pretty sure it took a genius to type furiously while somehow still managing to shovel snackoos into her mouth at an alarming rate. It was fascinating to the point of being hypnotic.

Machi and Ema were startled from their reveries by someone loudly cracking a whip in the air.

“Detective Skye! What is this foolishness? You haven’t given me your report on the Bradley case!”

Ema stared at the portrait of a tiny woman enraged: Prosecutor von Karma stood with whip posed. A snackoo fell out of Ema’s mouth.

“It’s right here.” Ema grabbed a folder from a pile of a million ones completely identical to it, and handed it to Franziska. The blue-haired prosecutor looked over the folder and gave a curt, satisfied nod.

“What is he doing here? Does he have something to do with the case?”

“No, I had some free time so I was helping him with something.”

“Oh?” Her rage apparently quelled, Franziska peered at the contents of Ema’s screen. “What is this foolishly foolish business?”

“He needs help seducing his boyfriend, so I’m compiling this list—”

Franziska gave Machi an appraising glance, then began to scroll through the list. “No, no, no. This is all wrong.”

Machi sighed to himself. “I am seeing some kind of bad dream…”

“Sushi? Is this some kind of joke?”

“…In which women examine my situation…”

“What are your thoughts on snackoos as a sexual food?” Ema chirped to Franziska.

“Food is a foolish kink! It makes one’s breath smell.”

“Hey now, a girl can fantasize,” Ema huffed.

“…And then come to completely ignore my wishes in favor of their perverse discussion and fantasies…”

Franziska turned to Machi. She wasn’t much taller than the young Borginian man, but she had ten times the presence, and Machi found himself honestly a little intimidated. “Listen, this list is no good. When securing a partner, what you really need to do is dominate.”

She cracked her whip in the air for effect. Annoyed, Ema went to putter about with some files, munching the whole way.

“Dominate?”

“You let him know who’s in charge. Whip him a little, and he’s all yours. He’ll do whatever you want.”

“That sounds somewhat like threatening him.” Machi tried to imagine standing over Wocky with a whip. Maybe a nice little uniform could be involved, and he’d make Wocky call him ‘sir.’ The reaction in his pants was a disturbing one, but before they could get to that point they’d have to have sex first, right?

Franziska raised a pale blue brow at daydreaming Machi. “Threatening someone is the clearest way to get your point across.”

Ema gave out a loud sigh, muttering, “He was my project!” She then went back to angrily munching.

Franziska snapped her wrist in a movement somewhere between ballet and executioner, and whipped the bag of snackoos right out of Ema’s hand. The detective stood aghast.

“That,” said Franziska, “Is punishment for not staying on-task.” She offered her gloved hand to Machi. Machi didn’t take it, as he was rather terrified.

“I know just the shop to get you started,” Franziska smiled. “You’ll have your man in no time.”

With the precision of a missile, Ema’s bag of snackoos was launched at Franziska’s head, open end first. As the prosecutor was showered with crunchy snacks, Machi made a hasty retreat. He was pretty sure the apocalypse was coming, and he didn’t want anything to do with it.

As Machi trotted down the street to catch a bus to the Wright Anything Agency, his phone chimed. He smiled at the text from his boyfriend:

Hey bb, thinking of u. What u want 4 dinnah 2nite? Momma sez okonomiyaki. U cool wit dat? ^.^

A spring in his step, Machi climbed onto the bus and slid into a seat. He texted Wocky back:

Okonomiyaki is very fine. I love you. <3

Wocky replied: Iluvu2 ^.^ ^.^

Grinning, Machi couldn’t resist calling his boyfriend. The sound of Wocky’s voice made Machi’s heart pound.

“Heya, angelface,” Wocky whispered into the phone. “Y’mind, uh, I’m not s’posed to have the phone on, I’m mindin’ the front.”

“Then why you text me?”

“Ain’t nothing going on! So of course I be textin’ mah crew.”

“…Tangelina left me, man!” A voice could be heard wailing in the background. Machi recognized it as Phoenix’s friend Larry, from yesterday. “The only thing that can soothe my heart is that beautiful girl who told me how to eat cornets yesterday! Please, where is that angel?”

“Hey, you talkin’ ‘bout my baby?” Wocky suddenly became interested in actually doing his job. Well, sort of. Machi was pretty sure he heard his boyfriend drop the phone and vault over the counter. He could easily imagine the wannabe gangsta grabbing the gangly loser by the collar. “You ain’t no good, son, you ain’t no good in my shop! You get right out! Ain’t nobody ‘lowed to look at my angel with horny thoughts but me, ya hear?!”

Machi laughed behind his hand as he overheard what was probably a very mild scuffle. Wocky said a single, affected, “Shoot,” before picking up his phone again.

“Is it true what you say, Wocky? You think horny thoughts when you see me?” Machi felt a pleasant rush of heat suffuse him, pooling between his legs. He forced his gaze out the window in hopes the situation would get a little less embarrassing.

“An’ when I hear you, an’ when I think of you, an’ when I kiss you. It’s like damn, baby, how you do dat? You must get so tired out runnin’ laps in my head!”

Machi didn’t speak English as his first language, but he was pretty sure that Wocky had his colloquialism wrong. “If it’s true, then why have we not--”

“Momma’s coming,” Wocky cut him off, and hung up the phone.

It was just as well. He’d reached his destination.


Unlike his rival, Apollo Justice could not be roused from his desk, even on the promise of coffee, ice cream, or anything else Machi attempted to tempt him with. Heaving a sigh, Machi slouched in the chair on the opposite side of his desk. The last place he ever wanted to be was in this chair in a defense attorney’s office, even the one of his adoptive brother’s. Apollo scribbled his notes furiously, occasionally glancing at a lighter and a bookmark with an angel on it with a very serious expression. When it became very clear that Apollo wasn’t going to ask him what he wanted, Machi asked, “May I ask a sort of personal question?”

“Do you need help with your citizenship exam? I know mom told Trucy to help you, but I could understand if…”

“No, no. Is more a personal issue. I need to know. How do you seduce your boyfriend?”

Apollo looked thoughtful, tapping his cheek with his pencil. “I’m not really sure, it just sorta happens. But I guess you should bite your lip a lot. And call him sir.”

“I could not at all call Wocky sir. Even if he wore a tie.” Machi found himself daydream it again. Maybe if Wocky was one of those classy mobsters, in a suit, packing heat. He filed that as another game to try if he ever managed to get Wocky in the bedroom.

“No, probably not.” Apollo seemed vaguely disturbed by the mental image and frowned at the notes he was jotting. “Well, there’s another alternative.”

“You could talk to him. You know, ask him what his likes and dislikes are.”

“Klavier said the same.”

Apollo snorted. “You asked him too?”

“I conducting a survey,” said Machi with a shrug.

“I’m surprised he was able to come to such a sensible conclusion.”

“Maybe I not wanting a sensible conclusion. I want sex!”

“Don’t you think you should be a little more responsible?”

Machi crossed his arms. “No.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Apollo looked up from his work for a moment to offer Machi a fond little smile. “Just be careful, okay?”

“Okay. Good luck with the case.” Machi stood.

“Thanks,” said Apollo, deflating a little over his stack of paper and evidence. “I’m gonna need it.”

“Business as usual?” Machi couldn’t help but tease.

“Business as usual,” Apollo sighed.

Machi glanced at his phone. There was some time before he had to catch the bus over to the Kitaki Bakery, so he swung by the kitchen for a Coke. If there was thing that made him feel closer to being an American citizen, it was his newly minted love of corn syrup and caffeine. Lamiroir kept the fridge and pantry stocked with all sorts of junk food, though Phoenix wasn’t allowed any. A single glance in the direction of a ho-ho earned him a poke in the belly from Trucy and a long-suffering sigh from Apollo, usually accompanied by some sort of speech about how he ‘really needed to consider his health.’

Machi was glad that no one felt the need to comment on his eating habits. Except for Wocky, who occasionally said, “Damn, where’d ya put it all?” and Mrs. Kitaki, who always preened at how much Machi enjoyed her food. Machi could remember a time when his appetite wasn’t this crazy, but as he blossomed it seemed his desire to consume encompassed all sorts of things. Books, music, movies, food, Wocky… He couldn’t get enough of his freedom. He wanted more and more.

He smiled, leaning against the counter. The house peaceful while Phoenix was out working on a case. Lamiroir and Trucy were probably over at the Wonder Bar working on their show.

He finished his Coke and rinsed out the can. He turned to toss the can in the bin, and was startled by a loud popping noise when he pushed the pedal of the recycling bin.

A colorful mess of balloons and plastic bits flung themselves at Machi’s face and fell to the floor. Even as the balloons drifted slowly to the floor, Machi recovered from his shock and yelled, “Trucy!”

Trucy popped up from behind the counter. “It worked! The safe sex recycling bin is a success!”

“The… what?”

The balloons were inflated condoms. What he mistakenly thought were bits of confetti were actually condom and lubricant packages. Machi felt himself blush to the very tips of his fingers. He thought he might wrap those reddened hands around his adoptive sister’s pretty little neck.

Machi took a deep breath. He had never won an argument with Trucy once, because she was oblivious to tempers. The angrier someone got, the more cheerful, bubbly and oblivious she became. “What is the meaning of this? Trucy! Why on earth would you stick these things in a recycling bin? This is because you know I would drink a Coke?”

“Just a happy coincidence!” Trucy assured him, but Machi didn’t believe her. “You were the best person to test my newest trick on. Safe sex is important!”

Machi twitched. “Trucy…”

“You’re gonna have sex with Wocky, aren’t you? You’ll need this stuff!”

“You overhear me…”

“It’s hard to keep secrets from your family, Machi. Anyway, why didn’t you ask me how to seduce Wocky? I could have tons of advice!”

Could she, now? Machi sighed. “Okay, Trucy. How should I seduce Wocky?”

“Do a magic trick! Like with the safe sex recycling bin!”

“I… lack your talent.” Talent. That was what it was. Not insanity.

“Still, you should be spontaneous! Do something that will bring a smile to his face! Dress up in a cape and top hat!”

Costumes. Add that to the list with confidence, food, bondage and roleplaying. Why did everyone he talk to have such weird tastes?

“I thank you, Trucy, but I think it is best maybe if I should do this free of advice. Just to go with my instinct, you know?”

“Sure, Machi! Say, how does the Constitution start?”

“It starts with ‘We the people…’”

“Good job!”

Machi nodded and set his can in the recycling bin where it belonged. He picked up one of the condoms littering the floor and stuck it in his pocket, then headed for the door.

“Machi?” Trucy called over.

“Hm?”

“Good luck!”


Machi considered himself a man on a mission. After dinner, instead of lazing around on the couch watching TV, he grabbed Wocky by the collar and whispered in his ear, “We need to talk. Your bedroom. Now.”

Wocky’s eyes widened. “Sure thang, angelcakes.”

Wocky’s room was the sort of organized chaos that would normally drive Machi up a wall. Samurai swords decorated the walls alongside Jammin’ Ninja posters. Wocky sat down, pushing aside his floppy Blue Badger pillow to make room for Machi on the bed. Machi looked down on him for a moment, and wondered if not bringing a whip with him was a mistake. It might be easier to talk to his boyfriend if he scared him. Instead, Wocky was just giving that lazy, oblivious grin that Machi loved.

Machi sat down. “I have question.”

“Yeah? Something wrong, baby?”

“Why have we not had sex?”

A blush covered Wocky’s face. It started at his cheeks, spread over his nose and then crept down his neck. “Babe,” Wocky said softly.

Machi shifted his weight, leaned against his boyfriend, head on his shoulder. “I love you. I want to be with you. I want my first time to be you. We get so close, and then it never happens. I feel like a bad suspension film.”

Wocky took his hand and threaded their fingers together. “Y’know I love you, angel puff. I just don’t want to push ta something y’ain’t ready for.”

“I ready! So ready! All I can think about is doing it with, don’t you feel that way about me?”

Wocky pressed a kiss to his temple, nearly in his hair. “’Course I do. But, see, thing is. You’re sixteen. I’m twenty-one. Y’got lotsa growing up ta do, and…”

Machi pulled away, tapped Wocky’s face with his knuckles. “Cut the bullshit, Mr. Jammin’ Ninja. If one of us is the adult, we both know is me.”

Wocky chuckles. “Yeah, okay, ya got me there.”

Machi laid a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth. “Then what is the problem, really? We should be able to talk about this.”

“Well, I’ve thought a lot about us, trust me. But, well, this is kinda embarrassing…”

“No secrets between us, Wocky.” Except Machi’s smoking habit, but that was a conversation for another day.

“I haven’t been with nobody but Alita, so I ain’t got much experience, but I think my Little Kitaki is, uh, y’know, weird.”

“Nothing about you is weird!” Machi insisted. “Except the way you eat muffins. I am sure your cock is not so weird.”

“Damn,” Wocky muttered.

“Hm?”

“Nothin.’”

Realization dawned, and Machi grinned. “Really? It didn’t get you the least bit bothered for me to say the word cock?”

“N-naw.” The blush was back, and Wocky was backing away. Machi crawled over him, pushed him back, straddled him. His hand dove between Wocky’s legs.

“So, you saying it not effecting you at all when I talk about your cock? Not even a little? Not even when I talk about how much I thinking of it, how I jerk off to the memory of your stiff cock? You not getting hard because you thinking of how much I love your cock, how I touching it, how I want it?”

They were questions he really didn’t need to ask. He knew the answer. Rubbing himself gratuitously against Wocky’s thigh while he stroked Wocky through his pants, Machi purred. “You do want me, don’t you?”

“Th-that weren’t never the problem,” Wocky gasped. “I don’t wanna do nothin’ ta hurt my baby, and w-well, Alita, she said that it was real big, seemed to be the only thing she liked ‘cept my money. But you’re a guy, an’ I could hurt you ‘cause it’s too big.”

Machi laughed like little bells. “If you think you are putting it in me our first time, you are completely mistaken. I have test tomorrow, no way am I going with the sore butt.” He unzipped Wocky’s pants. “Really, Wocky, we can be creative. Or did Alita never ever give you blowjob?”

“I don’t wanna talk ‘bout her right now,” Wocky squeaked as Machi pulled his cock from his pants and dove downward.

“Forgive me. No more talk now.” Machi took a perverse pleasure in the way Wocky twitched, somewhere between pleasure and embarrassment. He took a moment to admire Wocky’s unclothed cock, running fingers up the underside. It was larger than he expected, slightly curved. He decided he liked it. He leaned down to brush his lips over the tip, just the slightest movement, when an oddly pervasive thought emerged.

Machi tried to ignore it, lowering his mouth slowly over that mushroom-head shape. But it wouldn’t go away, and he soon had to pull away, covering his mouth.

Trying to hide the fact he was giggling.

“Wh-what’s the dilly-yo?” Wocky stammered. “That ain’t cool, baby, not cool at all! Whatchoo laughin’ for?”

“Sorry,” said Machi, still hopelessly laughing. “I just – I just having this thought – this is the first time I have been this near a cock, and, it struck me as very funny! I have a hard time believing I doing this!”

“Uncool, totally uncool!” Wocky griped. Stopped Machi rolling around on the bed by holding onto his shoulder. “Finish whatcha start, why don’t ya?”

Machi went quiet. Blue eyes blazed up at Wocky’s brown. “What did you say?”

“…Finish whatcha start? Y’don’t hafta, boo, I didn’t mean--”

“Do that again.”

Typically, Wocky could easily be accused of not catching onto things quickly. He was called a late bloomer for a reason. However, at that second, something clicked. Perhaps it was the moment he blossomed, or perhaps he just made a particularly shrewd observance of his boyfriend’s desires.

He shook Machi by the shoulder, a slightly forceful gesture. “Finish whatcha start,” he said roughly.

Machi nodded, almost imperceptibly. Telling him to go on.

“Well?” He squeezed Machi’s shoulder, getting into it a little bit.

Machi licked his lips. Wocky ran his fingers through his soft blond hair, and gripped it lightly, angling him downward. Machi moaned a little.

“Now do it, sweetness. I know you can.”

As Machi eagerly took him into his mouth again, sucking wetly, he couldn’t help but think that it was entirely possible he was just as weird as his friends.

Machi wasn’t great at giving head. It was his first time, and it was to be expected. He was figuring things out. Wocky kept that grip in his hair mostly for show. Now and again Machi would stop, looking up at him with eyes like the sky in July, and he would urge him down again. Machi seemed to like that a lot.

Wocky’s transformation was impressive. His high-strung voice slid into lower registers, and he tended to say little else but, “Thass right baby,” occasionally instructing Machi to use more tongue, back off, suck more, more spit, less teeth.

His jaw was aching by the end of it, but Machi found the effect his efforts had on his boyfriend to be more than worth it. As he finally seemed to get a hand (or a mouth, so to speak) on it, Wocky’s grown-up murmurings were accompanied by the slight movement of his hips and flexing of fingers in his hair.

“M’gonna come,” Wocky warned him through his teeth. Machi wasn’t totally sure what to do. He didn’t really want to get it on his face like people in porno, but he didn’t want to choke, either. He settled for pulling back partially, still working Wocky’s erection with his fingers while he sucked the tip. The sucking noise seemed loud in the quiet room, lewd in comparison to the delicate gasps Wocky was making.

It was over quickly, much less climactic than Machi expected. Suddenly there was this squirt of hot, salty stuff, and he swallowed it out of surprise as much as anything else. Still, he found he was oddly satisfied at the sight he gazed up at. Wocky laid back, looking for the entire world like a cat that caught a canary. He played with Machi’s hair.

“Y’like that, huh?”

Machi wiped his mouth and nodded. Wocky yawned. Adorable. Machi crawled up to cuddle up against his boyfriend. He was more than a little surprised when Wocky pushed him onto his back, trapping him between his arms. “Now s’your turn,” Wocky whispered in his ear huskily. He opened Machi’s legs easily, stroking between them, coaxing Machi’s erection. Nipped his neck. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout it,” said Wocky in his ear. “Why it took a whole year for us t’get here. Y’were waitin’ on me, weren’t ya? Y’were hopin’ I’d make th’first move. You wanted me… to take over. An’ here I was thinkin’, my willful, stubborn, perfectionist angelcakes, he’d approach me the second he wanted to. And if he hadn’t yet, it meant he weren’t ready.”

Wocky palmed the outline of Machi’s hardness almost mockingly. “If this is what my boo wants, then this is how he’s gonna get it. You like me like this, huh?”

He looked so pleased, dark eyes almost slits, dangerous and foxlike and yet so completely his that Machi could do nothing but throw his arms around him. When Wocky’s hand grasped and stroked his bare cock, Machi gasped into his shoulder, losing himself in the motions completely.

“Thass right, thass how you should look beneath me,” Wocky purred near his ear, marking the skin of his neck with his teeth. “I can’t wait t’make proper love t’ya. Get all up in that ass.”

Despite himself, Machi snorted. Wocky looked slightly embarrassed, then laughed as well. They fell to chuckling for several moments, then Wocky grabbed Machi by the chin, kissed him, and started anew.

Amazing how the context of someone else’s body, someone else’s hand could make everything feel so different. So good, so strange. Machi’s hips bucked, he moaned, and before he could utter any sort of courteous warning, he came, closing his eyes and watching fireworks explode.

They lay together in a heap, content and exhausted. After a moment, they cleaned each other up with tissue, and settled into each other’s arms. They fit like puzzle pieces, snug and perfectly matched.

10:26PM on a Friday night. Machi and Wocky snored gently in one another’s arms, half-clothed and rosy.

Machi had a dream about trying to teach a fox piano. The fox gave him a pink balloon and licked him on the nose, and he knew everything was going to be just fine.


THE END, yo.