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Vanilla	By : kimbk Category: +M through R > Punch-Out!! Views: 5443 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Punch-Out!! is the property of Nintendo and Next Level Games. I do not make any profit from this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Vanilla
- 1
Pairing: Glass Joe x Von Kaiser. So fluffy that it's ridiculous for both of them, which probably makes sense because it's about them baking together in the middle of the goddamn night. x.x Mild dom/sub thing going on, sweet cravings, playful teasing and a bathing scene are just some of the random things that happen here. Also cake. Heavy smut, and while the sex isn't exactly all sweet and soft, it's nothing brutal.
Dear God this one is a monster. It's about 9000 words and have been worked on painstakingly. I said it was about cravings, but I mean Christ. Glass Joe and Von Kaiser are established lovers and have been for some months, and when I was writing this I planned them as slightly younger than in the Wii game by around two-three years. But age doesn't matter much, it works just as well with Von Kaiser as 42 years old and Glass Joe as 38. If you have things to do... you might want to get them done first before reading this. I guess it did turn out to be somewhat of a PWP, but I hope it's good. This fic is also on y!gallery and it got done earlier but I reckoned I should post it here too.
Warning here for potential terrible French/German. x.x Apart from that, enjoy.
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There is nothing quite so embarrassing as coming down with a sudden sugar craving, and being caught by your pajama-clad lover in the kitchen at nine thirty in the evening. Von Kaiser learns this quite rapidly in one unexpected moment, standing there with a bag of flour in his arms, an apron tied around his waist and staring at a confused Frenchman in the kitchen doorway. Glass Joe had only come down because he'd wanted a glass of wine, and also to tell him that he would be having a bath and going to bed soon; of course Von Kaiser does not discover this fact until much later, so this point is pretty much moot. They stare at each other, with the German considerably mortified and the younger man looking mildly perplexed - and of course the older man is utterly aghast, this is possibly the worst time imaginable to let on the extent of his sugar cravings to Glass Joe. Oh, it's not even that his sweet tooth is particularly notable, he notes to himself (repressing an urge to roll his eyes), it's only the biggest sweet tooth in the entirety of Berlin.
But Glass Joe doesn't laugh or even shuffle away in an embarrassed manner like he'd expected him to. (At least they won't have to inch around each other next day, nervous at the possibility of mentioning the incident ever again.) Instead he tilts his head to the side and asks him what the German's planning to make, and how charming of him it is to engage in some midnight baking, and would he mind awfully if he helped out? Everyone likes baking, after all. He's so utterly stunned by this unexpected turn of events that he can only nod and put down the bag of flour to get out the spare apron before he quite realises what he's doing.
So what's he making, Glass Joe asks again as he straightens his shirt and walks right into the kitchen, taking out a few bowls and reaching for the cupboard to take out the eggs. Von Kaiser (now a bit more composed) tells him that he plans on making a Prinzregententorte - six layers of thin sponge cake sandwiched with chocolate buttercream, with a generous coating of dark chocolate ganache on top, just like the ones he always buys whenever he goes back to Germany for a visit. It will take at least until midnight to complete the main part of the cake and maybe a couple more hours for the chocolate glaze if he can wait that long, as efficient at baking he is. Glass Joe comments on this, noting that they will need to make three plain sponges and cut them into thinner halves just to get started, and isn't it a surprisingly complicated project for just a sweet craving? Smiling as he lays out the ingredients, he carries on and says that Von Kaiser must be doing this for the art of it, and that's what he loves about the older man.
You are a right fool, he says, heat rising to his cheeks in embarrassment and trying very hard to hide it. Glass Joe simply smiles and takes up the other apron, tying it around his waist. The German knew it was going to take hours before he could finish the cake, have a slice and join his lover in bed even before the Frenchman came downstairs; and while he's grateful for the help, he can see that this is certainly going to be an eventful night.
He is right.
-----
Baking a cake with Glass Joe is not as awkward an affair as first thought. After that initial moment, they soon fall into pace, working together in comfortable silence. They agree that they'll make a sponge each, put both in the oven at the same time and take a break while they rise. Those two sponges will then go in the fridge before they work on the last sponge. By the time the third one is baked, the other two should be relatively cool and good to work with. Very logical. Von Kaiser can't find much fault with it, mainly because the Prinzregententorte is not much more than a stack of simple sponge cakes, and also because it's quite late as it is. His craving is growing stronger by the minute, however, which gives him enough motivation to carry on.
As he whisks the sponge cake mixture, though, he can't help but steal glances at his lover. The younger man is curiously focused, observing the cake mixture run off the wooden spoon with a scrutinizing intensity - Von Kaiser has seen Glass Joe baking before, but he's never really seen it up close like this. It's him, rather than Von Kaiser, who takes baking as a true art form, and nothing less to be expected of a perfect Parisian. He also notices (with some jealousy) that the other's sponge mixture is lighter and has more air incorporated into it - and yet Von Kaiser's the one who followed instructions to the very tenth of a gram. Sure, both mixtures will rise well in the oven, but the Frenchman certainly has a flair for baking. He's a little envious, but not too surprised.
They pour the mixtures into same-sized tins and open up the pre-heated oven. Glass Joe peers into it, checking the thermostat, before he gives the okay - and the German puts in the two tins, sitting in the oven at the exact same shelf and exact same distance from the heating elements. Now the younger man couldn't have done that, he thinks smugly, before closing the oven and setting the timer to half an hour. It's now ten past ten, and time for a break.
"Are you sure we can finish this before midnight, Monsieur?" Glass Joe asks as the older man puts his mixing bowl and equipment in the sink, wiping down the counter and the scales in preparation for the next bout of cooking.
"I promised no such thing," is the cool reply from the older man; but the Frenchman doesn't mind this. It's logical after all: the two sponge cakes in the oven have to rise for half an hour, and they'll be taking a break for that amount of time before working on the third cake. That one needs to be made and baked as well before they even start thinking about cutting them into half and working on the chocolate buttercream. It will be well past midnight before they're done, which does make Glass Joe wonder if Von Kaiser's sweet cravings aren't going to just disappear by then. But it's no more than just a passing thought - he's known the older man long enough to know that he's focused and tenacious enough to hold on until he's satisfied. That doesn't necessarily translate into patience, per se (he thinks with a smile), but Von Kaiser is certainly persistent. He looks down at his mixing bowl, deciding that it too needs to be cleaned; it doesn't take more than a couple of seconds before he gets an idea that lights up his face with mischievous delight.
Von Kaiser is looking at the clock and watching the seconds tick past when he notices that the younger man hasn't put his bowl in the sink yet. Frowning, he turns around to remind Glass Joe - and immediately wishes that he hadn't. He is greeted to the sight of the younger man eagerly licking off the cake mixture from his index finger, gazing ahead of him almost dreamily, sucking and running his tongue over exposed skin. While the older man is standing there dumbstruck, he even runs his finger around the bowl and does it again. A part of Von Kaiser thinks that this is extremely immature behaviour, and yet he can't stop watching.
"Mmm," Glass Joe murmurs as he laps at the batter from his finger, looking very much like a cat with cream; the older man inhales sharply as he watches the Frenchman close his lips lightly around the appendage and indulgently licks off the remaining mixture. "ahh..."
There isn't much cake batter left over in the bowl. Von Kaiser inwardly breathes a sigh of relief at this, but when Glass Joe carelessly pushes the bowl aside and starts on the wooden spoon - which is absolutely coated in the stuff - he finds himself increasingly more dry-mouthed and staring helplessly at his lover.
"Joseph," he calls, his voice unsure and trembling despite himself. Glass Joe doesn't look back, too busy cleaning the mixture from the spoon in long - God, utterly agonizing - licks. It only then occurs to Von Kaiser that the younger man is doing this entirely on purpose, but it's too late for that realisation now. He's making soft moaning sounds as he runs his tongue over the back of the spoon, presumably from the sweetness of the mixture; and perhaps Von Kaiser has a more obscene mind than he'd previously thought because they are intensely erotic moans and he's refusing to stop-
"Am I distracting you, mon petit?" Glass Joe inquires, putting down the wooden spoon; his tone is carefully neutral, but Von Kaiser notices the mischievous look in his eyes. He shakes his head quickly and looks away, trying in vain to hide his blush.
"Nein," he replies stiffly, "I'm fine, Joseph."
"No, you're not," his younger lover says in response, his voice ever so gentle.
Von Kaiser resists the urge to curse out loud. "Don't be so childish, Joseph-" he starts, but is interrupted as the younger man walks over and lays his head on his shoulder. This is sufficiently close for him to start faltering. "-it... whatever it might be, it can wait for later. Lieber, this really isn't a good time for an interruption-"
"I don't mind," Glass Joe murmurs, his breath lightly tickling his neck, and the older man is rendered speechless. Suddenly the other's French accent sounds lusher and more sensual than before, despite there being no chance in tone whatsoever. He tenses and inhales sharply as Glass Joe's hand brushes lightly over his arousal (already straining against his trousers), and mentally kicks himself for showing a weakness. "we have time. I should finish what I've started."
Something inside the older man screams that this is completely and utterly wrong, and no, they most certainly don't have time - but then he glances at the oven timer, which is registering as twenty-five minutes left until the baking is done. If they play it right, they can manage well within that frame of time. Besides, he's hard, they haven't done this in a while, and Glass Joe knows it. Unexpected, most definitely - but the Frenchman is so close, his eyes are beautiful and dark, and they have time. No point in pretending any further. "Very well," he responds quietly, letting himself relax in the other's touch but careful not to give away too much of his eagerness.
Glass Joe holds him in an embrace, laying his head against the older man's chest for a few seconds and nuzzling softly, before he unties the other's apron and pulls it off him. He undoes a few buttons on Von Kaiser's shirt and kneels down, hands pressing lightly against the prominent bulge on the other's trousers and hearing the German inhale sharply in response. The younger man chuckles softly at this, reaching up to undo the last couple of buttons on the older man's shirt and pushing it aside to reveal his bare torso. Returning his attention to the other's arousal, Glass Joe leans forward to kiss it lightly before he unbuttons the German's trousers and pulls down the zip.
"Warten," Von Kaiser tries to interject, but already he feels too lightheaded with pleasure to put any real force behind what he said; it comes out in a breathless whisper and nothing more. The Frenchman ignores him and carries on, admiring and caressing the bulge in the other's boxers. His touch is very gentle, almost cautious, and the older man can't very well say that he doesn't appreciate such careful handling (even though he prefers the occasional roughness now and then). But all of those thoughts fly straight out of the window when the younger man leans over and starts to kiss his arousal through the fabric, running his lips over the length and mouthing it gently. This is new, Von Kaiser thinks as he holds back a moan; it's not what he expected, and it feels good, but he's not about to give the younger man the satisfaction of a response just yet. Glass Joe barely continues on for a minute, though, before hooking his fingers on the elastic band around his boxers and pulling it down, exposing his erection. The Frenchman lets out a pleased 'mmm' as he frees the length and strokes it with both hands, almost as if worshipping it. Not sure what to do or where to look (he gathers that staring down Glass Joe while they're in this compromising position isn't going to ease his mind), Von Kaiser glances again at the oven timer. Twenty-two minutes left.
The younger man is still caressing him. He likes to make oral sex particularly tantalizing, teasing and stroking until Von Kaiser has to resort to begging or impatiently push his head downwards. Luckily for the older man, there isn't quite time to make it the usual utterly agonizing affair. But still, having Glass Joe's (quite dextrous) fingers rubbing against the head of his member feels amazing. Von Kaiser's hands clench tightly on the counters around him for support; the younger man has leaned forwards to give the tip of his member a tentative first lick, and while he succeeds in holding back his moan, he's feeling weak at his knees already. Glass Joe quite happily licks at his precum; he smiles up at his lover for a brief moment and exhales slowly, seemingly nervous about what he's going to do. Without further hesitation, though, he takes half the shaft into his mouth in one go; Von Kaiser leans his head back at the sensation, eyes clenching shut and a soft moan escaping his lips.
He's certainly become more skilled. The German thinks back to the time when they first slept together, when he had taught Glass Joe everything he knew about making love; the other had been inexperienced and he'd found that slightly uncomfortable because of the very real possibility that he could end up hurting him badly. But the younger man is much better now - back then he could barely take half of the German's length in his mouth and deep throating was absolutely out of the question. (Watching him struggle and trying to take as much in as possible, though, was rather charming.) Now-
"Ahh," he breathes out, his voice trembling despite himself as Glass Joe sucks rather hungrily at his member, wrapping his hand around the base to compensate for what he can't quite manage yet. The Frenchman places one hand on the other's pelvis and moves the other one up, caressing his toned abdomen with much enthusiasm. Von Kaiser can't stop himself from letting out another moan, and is inwardly mortified at how unmanly he sounds, but it does feel incredible. Glass Joe still isn't very good at deep throating, but quite frankly it's not as if their sexual life hinges on whether he can or can't do it. The younger man is particularly good with his tongue and the German is perfectly content with that. He strokes the other's hair gently, running the soft thin strands between his shaking fingers and hoping that he's getting his appreciative message through. He's extremely sensitive to any sort of stimulation with the tongue, but there's no way he'd admit that to Glass Joe's face, even though they've been together for months now. Von Kaiser can't help but let out yet another moan as the other swirls his tongue gently around the head, sending a hot rush of pleasure up his spine; his fingers tighten around Glass Joe's hair, but he doesn't react, too used to the German's often painfully-tight grip. Part of him wants nothing more than to grab the Frenchman and start thrusting into his mouth, but the older man's far too well mannered for that even though he is so close to his release.
At least, he thinks so until Glass Joe suddenly thrusts his head downwards, forcing his entire member into his mouth and taking him completely by surprise. Von Kaiser lets out a startled cry and swears roughly in German at the sensation; he barely manages to keep control, but he's already as good as pushed over the edge. The younger man resumes sucking, but he lets his gaze meet Von Kaiser's, showing his lover how lustful his eyes are - and that's the final straw. Without so much as a warning, the older man grabs the other's head and climaxes, forcing the Frenchman to swallow his cum and letting out a deep groan.
But when the euphoria subsides after a few seconds, Von Kaiser realises what he's done. He stays frozen in that position for what seems like hours, overwhelmed with guilt and absolutely mortified.
"I... Tut mir Leid," he says, ashamed at how out of breath he sounds - but he should apologize, he should have warned Glass Joe. "I didn't expect..."
Glass Joe doesn't look up nor reply. In fact he has ceased movement almost entirely; his hands are still resting on the older man's hips, his eyes closed in what seems like apt concentration. Eventually he pulls back, immediately licking the entire shaft clean while making soft pleased noises, before looking up to Von Kaiser's face.
"C'est bien," he answers. Von Kaiser looks down at himself; Glass Joe has done a good job of cleaning him off despite the lack of ample warning. He awkwardly averts the other's gaze and hitches his boxers and trousers upwards, buttoning himself back up.
"D... danke schon," he says stiffly, aware that he's not doing a good job of hiding his utter embarrassment. "I appreciate it, Joseph."
"It was worth it, Monsieur," he murmurs, standing up and giving him a smile. "c'est delicieux."
Von Kaiser is so flustered upon hearing this that he isn't sure whether he wants to punch the younger man in the face or pull him into a longing embrace. He settles for nodding and turning away with a small cough instead, blushing much harder than expected and slightly humiliated for it.
But there's no denying that what Glass Joe did to him felt incredible, and he certainly can't pretend that he feels a slight sense of pride. Perhaps he is more of a masochist than he thought.
-----
They spend the rest of the time in silence. Von Kaiser keeps silent because he's still embarrassed by what happened, and also because he is still quite aroused by the thought. He's not fully hard, but that isn't saying much, because he can feel it twitch lightly whenever he thinks about what happened, over and over again. Glass Joe stays with him, equally silent, until the timer shows that they've got five minutes left; then he takes off his apron and excuses himself upstairs to do something, leaving the older man alone with his thoughts. Von Kaiser decides that he might as well do the washing up to pass the time and keep himself occupied.
Of course things don't quite work that way, especially when he's still having cravings in the middle of the night. As he washes up he admits to himself with some displeasure that what happened in the past few minutes hasn't helped his desires at all, it's gotten worse if anything because now he's aroused in addition to an already-established sweet craving. He decides that if it seems like anything else will happen, he could send Glass Joe upstairs ahead of him; the younger man's done enough for him already as it is. He'll also forgo glazing the cake all over, just so that he can hurry to bed and hopefully forget all of this lunacy by morning.
He is drying the last couple of dishes when the oven timer rings; Von Kaiser turns the timer off and takes out the cakes, one by one, putting them on the side to cool. As he does this the younger man emerges from upstairs and makes his way down the staircase, giving his lover a coy smile before observing the quality of the cakes. Sure enough, they've both risen splendidly.
"Where were you?" Von Kaiser asks, hoping to ease some tension.
"I was in my room, Monsieur," comes the smooth and not-at-all telling response. "shall I make the third one or would you prefer that I do something else?"
The German's not one to lose at mind games like these, but now is hardly the time. He wordlessly reaches for a bowl that he's just washed and pushes it towards Glass Joe, who takes it with another soft smile and proceeds to measure out the ingredients with an elegant flourish. Von Kaiser assumes that he's in charge of making the buttercream, and briefly contemplates sitting back down, but why remain idle when there are still things to do? There is still over half an hour to go, but he can at least get out some ingredients and take the cakes out from their tins.
This lets Von Kaiser be mercifully distracted for a few minutes. They again work in silence; Glass Joe spills some vanilla essence on himself, but he wipes it off immediately without comment, and it's otherwise uneventful. He still can't quite stop himself catching glimpses at the Frenchman, now whisking the mixture and staring at it as if mesmerized; Glass Joe certainly takes baking seriously. It probably should look rather strange; Glass Joe, doing some midnight baking while wearing his black pajamas and slippers, and all this with a surprisingly serious expression on his face. The German doesn't know whether to find it endearing or surreal.
But what does it matter? Von Kaiser rather fancies that Glass Joe has put their unusual 'encounter' out of mind by now, and as long as they're occupied, everything should go fine. He's tempted to ask for a taste of the sponge mixture, but keeps quiet - it's too similar to what the younger man did, and after all this work, surely his sweet cravings deserve something a little better than uncooked cake mixture. Besides, while he's having this train of thought, Glass Joe is pouring the mixture into the third cake tin anyway. He opens the oven door, winces slightly at the heat rushing out and buffeting against his body, pushes the tin inside and sets the timer to half an hour again.
"C'est fini," Glass Joe says happily, wiping his hands on a dishcloth. "I assume you'll work on the filling, Monsieur?"
"Ja. You can go up to bed if you want, Joseph."
The younger man looks at him as if he is mad. "Non, non! J'aimerais rester avec toi. I would like to finish this as well," he pauses, seemingly trying to recall something from memory; then it clicks and he looks at Von Kaiser again. "do we have any raspberry jam? They bring out the flavour of chocolate particularly nicely."
A very quick search determines that they do, indeed, have raspberry jam in their cupboard. Satisfied with this, Glass Joe turns back to the counter and puts the whisk away, along with the bag of flour and other things that won't be needed anymore. The older man helps out by returning the now-dry dishes back to their respective cupboards and emptying out the dish rack, and he's just washing his hands when he hears a familiar moan from Glass Joe by the counter.
He's doing it again, Von Kaiser realises with some despair, and tries very hard not to turn around. Of course, him being who he is, his curiosity takes over within seconds and makes him turn around to look at Glass Joe yet again. It's not quite as bad this time, at least the younger man isn't being so obviously lewd about the whole thing - he simply savors the leftover mixture from the bowl with a simple exclamation of approval, and when he licks the wooden spoon clean it's not really done in a seductive manner. Slightly tired and relieved that Glass Joe isn't making this a turn-on, he makes the mistake of letting his guard down and going over to the younger man.
"Are you quite finished?" Von Kaiser asks (not unkindly), Glass Joe nodding and putting the now-clean spoon back in the bowl. "gut. I'll take that then, danke."
As he reaches over the other's shoulder, the younger man leans back playfully and nuzzles his neck. Startled, the German pulls him closer in an attempt to stop him falling, turning it into an odd embrace of sorts; it only strikes him then that Glass Joe smells heavily of vanilla. He's puzzled for a few seconds; such a heavy scent couldn't have come from baking alone, that's absurd. Only then does he remember that the younger man spilt some vanilla essence on his hands a while back. But surely, those few seconds he spent wiping away the essence couldn't have spread it over his neck and shoulders-
But then, Von Kaiser hadn't been watching. He'd spared only a glance back then, because Glass Joe hadn't made any fuss over it; he could have easily touched himself beforehand and covered himself with the scent, as he wasn't even wearing an apron. Besides, searching for a reason is rapidly being forced out of Von Kaiser's list of priorities. He has always found the fragrance of vanilla intensely arousing as well as pleasant and comforting (the same goes for cinnamon) when mixed in with perfume or cologne. Combined with Glass Joe's otherwise-mellow musky scent, it's driving him almost insane with lust. He tightens his grip on the younger man, aware that he's pressing an erection onto the other's backside. What happens next confirms everything.
"That feels wonderful," Glass Joe whispers in his ear, turning around slightly to do so - and showing the German the small tube of lubricant in his hand.
That's all it takes. He grabs the Frenchman by the shoulders and all but throws him against the counter, making him gasp and whimper in surprise. The whimper only heightens the primal urge inside the older man, and he straight away reaches out and tugs violently at the front of Glass Joe's shirt, tearing the garment from his body. Quite literally, too - there are buttons flying everywhere and the shirt actually has a large rip down it, but he really couldn't care less right now. In his frenzy he ends up doing the same thing to the other's trousers, impatiently tugging them off and tearing it when he can't get it off fast enough. Glass Joe loses his balance and stumbles, quite suddenly finding himself wearing nothing but boxers, before Von Kaiser kneels down and pulls them down with his teeth. Not content with their position, he pushes the younger man to the floor, giving him no more than half a second to react before pinning his arms down and running his tongue down the other's chest. Glass Joe cries out as the other licks the tips of his nipples, teasing them softly, before countering the gentle action with a surprisingly hard pinch and provoking another (louder) cry from him. The older man knows that Glass Joe is particularly sensitive there, and while he's less inclined to spend much time exploiting that weakness, he still pays a fair deal of attention to them, pinching and stroking them into hardness. He planned this, Von Kaiser thinks to himself. And he deserves to be taught a lesson.
Glass Joe moans and writhes pleasantly beneath him, his cries going up a pitch higher in response to the caresses. The German finds this rather amusing, and grasps the other's already-hard member roughly in one hand, trying to incite a similar sort of response. The younger man clenches his eyes shut and lets out a particularly high-pitched whimper, which satisfies the other's primal curiosity. How unmanly, he thinks to himself, aware that he's being a hypocrite considering the way he himself moaned not an hour ago in Glass Joe's hands. But he knows that he's never needed to doubt the younger man's masculinity. Glass Joe most certainly isn't built like an average man for that matter; as weak in the ring he is, he is still a boxer with years of training and experience behind him, and because of that he's certainly a lot more well-muscled and strongly built than most people. Von Kaiser's had many partners before but never one quite as attractive as Glass Joe, which is a given considering the amount of years he spent silently admiring the other's strength, courage and tenacity (amongst other more physical virtues) whilst working beside him. He pushes those thoughts away as more important things are at hand; he fumbles with his own shirt and throws it in the corner. His trousers are soon unbuttoned and subjected to the same treatment. Glass Joe pants heavily below him, seemingly turned on even more at the sight, and Von Kaiser grinds his hips lightly against the other's just to tease him a little more. It works like a charm.
There's no sense in prolonging the agony any longer; he skips the foreplay from then on and frees himself from his boxers. He's almost painfully hard, his erection throbbing and the tip leaking a considerable amount of precum - he doesn't recall ever being so desperate before. The German grabs the tube of lubricant from the floor; pouring some lube onto one hand, he rubs his erection with it, making it as quick as possible. He then uses one slick finger to lube up the other's entrance, brushing against the younger man's prostate in the process and being rewarded with a shudder and a sweet moan. The German doesn't care for carrying that on further tonight, but nevertheless he's pleased with how obedient Glass Joe is. Once the older man moves into position, Glass Joe spreads his legs obligingly and looks at him, his eyes clouded with lust and desperation and ever-so-innocent love, waiting to be entered. He presses the tip of his erection lightly to the other's entrance, searching the other's face for any hints of pain or doubt; for this part at least his manners are priority. The younger man nods, and he pushes inside without pausing, burying himself within fully. Glass Joe reacts with a small gasp, and a slightly pained expression crosses his face for a brief moment - but that's all. They certainly have progressed a lot over time - during the first few times they made love, the younger man would whimper and squirm in pain for a few minutes before relaxing. He moves over Glass Joe, supports himself with his hands and begins thrusting, going slowly the first couple of times to avoid hurting his lover - but when the Frenchman lets out a quiet moan and wraps his legs around the other's hips, he rapidly quickens his pace.
"Tu es mon homme," the younger man moans out. "je t'aime, je t'adore..."
Von Kaiser cuts him off abruptly with an appreciative kiss. "You will never be a poet," he says with some humour, and thrusts particularly hard into the younger man, coaxing out a cry of half pain and half delight. "komm für mich," he growls in the other's ear before nipping hard at the soft flesh. Glass Joe shivers - he adores it when Von Kaiser whispers or breathes in his ear - and turns his head away. The older man feels himself growing harder and throbbing more intensely in response; he trails his tongue down to the Frenchman's neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, before tearing his mouth away from the other's soft skin and diverting his attention to his nipples instead. But the Frenchman manages to get him back by simply pulling him back up for another kiss - Glass Joe is almost devastatingly good at kissing when he's into it, and this is one of those times. He moves his hands up to the other's face, making sure that Von Kaiser closes his eyes; he immediately presses his lips onto the older man's, coaxing them apart skillfully. The German relaxes almost subconsciously as he feels the other's tongue brushing against his lower lip ever so lightly, knowing that he's requesting permission and loving the younger man ever more for his unwavering courtesy. They lock lips for a little longer, and then Glass Joe slips his tongue inside to just barely touch his own, withdrawing rather playfully when Von Kaiser tries to initiate more contact. He's a little surprised, but not for long; Glass Joe shifts beneath him and pulls him closer. Kissing the younger man is almost like a version of lovemaking on its own. Eventually they pull away, and Von Kaiser thrusts harder as a reward, pulling out almost completely and pushing back in.
It's nothing like what they've done before. Sure, they've had sex before, many times in the past months. There were points when it did get slightly rough, like during their first time together, which nonetheless still worked out to be satisfying and never too much for either of them to handle. But it's different now; Von Kaiser doesn't care for gentleness or pacing this time, slamming into the other's body in unbridled lust. The thought that he might be hurting the younger man crosses his mind now and then but that's just about the only thing stopping him from being any more rough, and that doesn't offer very much restraint - just enough to keep it as lovemaking and not abuse. Glass Joe's similarly enthusiastic, crying out with each thrust and occasionally moaning out in French, eagerly pumping his own arousal with one hand and clinging tightly to his lover with the other arm. It's not often that Von Kaiser so utterly loses self-control; he's even going as far as to bruise his younger lover mercilessly, nipping here and there, leaving love-bites and gripping hard enough to mark the skin. But he just can't stop, Glass Joe is so tight and the friction is delightful and the smell of vanilla is intoxicating, he can almost taste it when he runs his tongue over the other's collarbone or nibbles on the delicate skin of his neck and it's so sweet, delicious and so utterly erotic that he can't hold it-
"Ich liebe dich," he whispers, almost insane with need. "I love you, Lieber Gott, Joseph, I love you-"
Glass Joe moans out something but he's past listening at that point. The older man closes his eyes tightly and focuses on ravishing his lover as much as possible; he's never lost control of himself so completely before and even now there's a voice inside his head saying that what he's doing is absolutely vulgar, taking Glass Joe on a kitchen floor out of all the places possible within the house, and that if he was a true German and a gentleman he would have relocated them both to a room with a more suitable atmosphere. But this internal voice means hardly anything to him now and perhaps he enjoys this more precisely because it's so utterly lewd and shameless. The younger man's fingernails dig into his back lightly, over the scars that he gained in the military, and he lets out a sharp hiss at the sensation - but leaves at that with no protests. Glass Joe pulls him closer, lips fervently searching out Von Kaiser's and pressing him close in a lustful kiss. His muscles clench tight around Von Kaiser's length and the older man nearly comes right there and then, only narrowly managing to distract them both by nipping at the Frenchman's shoulder with a savage growl. Glass Joe yelps at this - serves him right for not being good, the older man thinks to himself, and can't help but grin to himself inwardly.
At some point the younger man bucks hard against Von Kaiser, crying out his lover's name - his first name - as he approaches his peak. He's panting hard, tears of pleasure in his eyes, letting out another cry (this time without words) as he finally climaxes, his cum spilling all over his stomach. His whole body becomes taut at the same time, tensing and shuddering against the German's length, giving him that one much-needed shove towards his own climax. He manages to hold on for another ten seconds before he comes as well, roughly pressing his lips to the other's to stifle his moan. The younger man whimpers into the kiss as he feels the hot cum filling him up, and as soon as Von Kaiser pulls back he shields his face with the back of his hand in a vain attempt to hide his flushed expression.
"Nein," the older man manages to whisper, gently pushing the other's hand out of the way. "look at me."
Von Kaiser is still riding his high, but his head is certainly clear enough for him to look down and think that Glass Joe makes quite an attractive picture lying there on the floor. His body is tensed and flushed with sex, chest rising up and down rapidly as he gasps for breath, his eyes closed in bliss - the German finds even the unshed tears glistening on his eyelashes attractive, although he finds that thought somewhat disturbing almost immediately afterwards. Glass Joe is only just beginning to come around; he opens his eyes and stares up at his lover, revealing that they're unfocused and hazy with arousal, and in that long moment stays absolutely still while regaining his bearings. Once his gaze becomes clearer, the younger man looks at Von Kaiser for a few seconds before downcasting his eyes shyly. Never mind, the German thinks to himself as he slumps down and lets his orgasm fade away to nothing - this is still the best sex he's had in a while.
He usually stays inside Glass Joe for a few minutes after making love, engaging in particularly intimate post-coital embraces. Now isn't the time for that, regrettably - a kitchen floor is hardly the place to cuddle on, and he's probably done enough not-quite-appropriate things tonight as it is. He pulls out gently, noting the soft, disappointed whine from the younger man as he does so; his still-hot essence trickles out as he does so and drips onto the floor, provoking another soft whimper from Glass Joe. Von Kaiser grabs a couple of tissues from the counter and sets about cleaning them as best as possible, especially between the other's legs where his own cum has leaked out. Glass Joe lets out a small mewl at this, closing his legs and tensing his muscles to keep as much of the liquid inside him as possible, and Von Kaiser has to kiss him on the forehead to get him to relax again. After that's done he puts the tissues in the bin and lays back down, licking away the cum on the Frenchman's stomach, noting the tart and vaguely sweet taste - and just like that, he realises that he has satisfied his cravings without even needing to taste (or even finish making, for that matter) the cake. His near-bestial lust has dissipated and his carnal desires satisfied for the night; all he feels now, really, is a simple yearning to hold his lover in his arms, kiss him all over, and sleep. But right now, neither of them have quite the presence of mind to get up or even settle for cuddling, and as a result they just lie on the floor staring at nothing in particular.
They lie there for another minute, a little lightheaded from the rather spontaneous bout of lovemaking, before the oven timer rings.
Glass Joe immediately stands up in response, a dazed and dreamy smile on his lips, (almost mindlessly) pulling an apron over his naked body. He walks straight over to the oven and opens it from the side, letting the rush of hot air out before putting on an oven mitt and pulling out the final sponge. He turns the oven off, closes it, and puts the cake on the counter to cool. Once that's done he gathers up the bowls and equipment lying around and puts them in the sink, wetting a dishcloth and wiping down the counter as well. All of this is done leisurely, almost lethargically, with the Frenchman saying absolutely nothing. Von Kaiser, during all of this, picks up his clothes from the floor and goes upstairs into the bathroom, throwing said clothes into the laundry basket and running a bath. They both could use one. The sponge cakes are all done and prepared, but he's not up to completing the whole cake now; they've probably got enough energy left in them for this bath and not much else. He'll do it in the morning. Glass Joe probably isn't up to it either, what with having been on the receiving end of some rather rough sex, although the German tells himself that the younger man brought it onto himself by seducing him. Bemused, he drapes a dressing-gown around himself and goes back downstairs again.
When he enters the kitchen, he finds that the Frenchman is still there, wearing only the apron and examining what's left of his pajamas. His shirt's torn beyond repair and his trousers don't look at all better - he's gathered up all the buttons to save already. Von Kaiser thinks that this behaviour is reminiscent of a particularly economical hausfrau, as strange as that description is, before realizing the unintentional (but not at all unpleasant) implications of that thought and clearing it from his mind. Glass Joe looks up as he approaches.
"I can't wear these anymore," he says matter-of-factly. There's no accusing tone in his voice.
"Leave it," the older man replies, just as calmly. "we can replace them."
This seems to be good enough of an answer. Glass Joe puts the buttons aside on the table, and folds up the remains of the pajamas to throw away later. Von Kaiser, having watched this silently, helps him out of the apron and turns off the kitchen light. The younger man smiles at this, seemingly uncaring that he is completely naked and quite disheveled; he looks so innocent that Von Kaiser is briefly thrown off guard. When Glass Joe lays his head on his chest and puts his arms around his waist, though, protective instincts within him override any awkwardness he feels and the older man returns the embrace, kissing the other's forehead and breathing in his scent, a mix of male musk and sweat and a vague hint of cologne - and still lingering in that primal scent is the presence of vanilla. Von Kaiser picks him up and carries him upstairs and puts him in the bath straight away. The bath is still running but wonderfully warm and refreshing, judging from the way the younger man shivers and relaxes in his arms; they've shared enough baths and showers together to know the temperature that suits both equally well. (The Frenchman likes his bath nicely warm with some lavender oil and bubbles, but the older man prefers it quite hot with a cold shower right afterwards to cool him down.) Having done so, and having turned off the taps, only then does the German actually take his dressing-gown off and slip into the bath as well.
Glass Joe curls up in his arms as he leans against the walls of the bathtub and lets out a content, exhausted sigh. Von Kaiser hugs him close in response, one hand lazily resting on the back of his neck and tracing the contours of the other's muscles with the other hand. He gets a barely audible 'mmm' in response along with what sounds like a purr - Glass Joe has grown to share mannerisms with his cat over all those years, the older man thinks with some amusement. Glass Joe shudders pleasantly as the German's hand travels to the small of his back, stroking very lightly before moving downwards; he blushes as he feels his backside being squeezed gently before the other's hand comes to rest. Von Kaiser allows himself a smile upon seeing this, noting how the Frenchman loves being touched and loving the younger man ever more for it - this feeling is only heightened when Glass Joe snuggles closer and plants little butterfly kisses on his chest and shoulders.
Von Kaiser wonders what he must look like now, in a bathtub with a very affectionate Glass Joe lying in his arms, both lost in the daze of post-coital bliss. Certainly not his usual stoic self, for sure. Perhaps the entire picture looks just as romantic to an outsider as he and Glass Joe perceive the entire situation to be. Perhaps it looks too out of character for them both, but he knows for sure that he's allowing himself to be soft, and that's really just the end of it. He draws the younger man to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before reaching for the bottle of shampoo; Glass Joe nods and turns his back to him, allowing the German to wash his hair. They barely speak to each other during shared baths or showers like those - instead, they allow touch and the occasional pleased sounds to convey their emotions. It's a slightly awkward process, with Von Kaiser still not being used to this sort of intimacy; but while he's more accustomed to being straightforward, he's been repeatedly assured that he does a good job of being gentle. The Frenchman has a very nice body, he thinks to himself as he pours water over the other's hair and rinses it free of shampoo, watching trails of soapy water trickle down the other's torso. He also looks different with his hair wet, in a good way - Glass Joe normally sports a curl that partially hides the side of his face, but now it's slicked back and the outline of his face is clearly visible, allowing Von Kaiser to appreciate the younger man's looks properly.
It's his turn next. He turns his back on Glass Joe, tensing as he usually does when he exposes his bare back to his lover; he's covered in scars. They're faded and far less numerous compared to the ones still running down his legs and thighs, some of which are still very visible and have traces of stitch-marks around them, but nevertheless he's still not too comfortable showing them fully. But he only really feels that way with Glass Joe; he's simply more concerned with what the latter thinks of him and this has made him self-conscious. Von Kaiser carries on with his train of thought as the younger man massages shampoo into his hair and rinses it clean; he stiffens and flinches slightly when the younger man rests his hands on his back, fingers pressing lightly onto some of the raised scars. Of course they don't hurt anymore, all the pain disappeared over a decade and a half ago, but they are still fairly sensitive - and Glass Joe tends to exploit this tendency to give surprisingly sensual and intimate massages. Knowing this, Von Kaiser relaxes somewhat uneasily, letting the younger man caress him. He's slightly ashamed that he (unwittingly) flinched at his lover's touch, and also reluctant to admit to himself that he loves those moments when the Frenchman takes charge.
It's shameless. Utterly, utterly shameless.
"I... want to apologize," the older man breaks the silence, Glass Joe pausing what he's doing to look at him. Von Kaiser doesn't turn around, knowing that the younger man is listening. "tonight's events were... unrefined of me."
Glass Joe doesn't answer. A few seconds pass by in silence and Von Kaiser is just beginning to feel anxious when he feels Glass Joe shifting around to sit closer to him, laying his head on the back of his shoulder and wrapping both arms around his torso. He kisses the back of the older man's neck and nuzzles into him and Von Kaiser senses that he is forgiven. He doesn't turn around, but reaches for the other's hand and grasps it gently, the pressure reassuring them both.
"I did lead you on," the younger man murmurs; Von Kaiser nods, but doesn't press the issue any further. They stay like that for a while.
-----
It's nearly one o'clock in the morning when they finally step out of the bath. Von Kaiser immediately insists on wrapping the younger man in a towel before sending him out first and draining the bathtub, but the younger man won't take to the idea of leaving before he's seen the older man dried off. Once that little lover's quarrel is over and done with they leave the bathroom, and Von Kaiser notices with some pleasure that the entire house still smells of freshly baked cake.
They don't bother to get dressed. Once dried off fully, they put away the towels and slip into bed naked; Glass Joe snuggles into the pillows and wraps one arm around the older man before closing his eyes. He's spent and satisfied, feeling washed out and empty as a blown egg, clean and ever so content.
"Mon chéri?"
Von Kaiser looks over from his own side of the bed. Usually the Frenchman uses the ever-formal 'Monsieur' to call or refer to him; such close terms of endearment are rare, except perhaps for the use of 'mon petit' when he's teasing him. "Oui, Joseph? J'écoute."
Glass Joe smiles brightly as he registers the immense affection concealed in the other's response. The older man only talks to him in French when he's in a particularly loving mood. "Vous êtes un amante exceptionnel," he says, and with that compliment presses a kiss on the other's chest. His one free hand toys with the German's hair playfully, and although Von Kaiser usually frowns upon this kind of (childish, he'd put it) behaviour, tonight he doesn't mind. He responds to the praise with a light nuzzle - Glass Joe squirms lightly as his mustache tickles his skin - before glancing at the clock and being thankful that it's the weekend. They wouldn't get away with such late sleeping times otherwise.
"Endors-toi," Von Kaiser replies quietly, putting the blankets over them both. "bonne nuit."
"Bonne nuit. Je t'aime," Glass Joe murmurs drowsily, and then just like that he is asleep. The older man watches him, a hint of a smile on his lips.
In the morning he will get up early before Glass Joe. He will give his sleeping lover a kiss and tuck the covers around him before going downstairs. There, he'll make the chocolate buttercream and slice up the three sponge cakes to make the Prinzregententorte - and because it'll be morning, he'll find time to glaze the cake all over as well. When Glass Joe awakes, he will come downstairs to find a beautifully completed cake, a spotless kitchen, and the German finally fulfilling his original cravings with a slice of said cake at the table and looking through a newspaper with a cup of coffee next to him. But all this is still hours away, and those hours will be spent with the two men in peaceful slumber, and all those events are barely more than a small fragment of thought in the older man's mind.
He strokes the other's head gently, smoothing down his hair and reveling in the softness. Petting is one act of affection that Glass Joe prefers above kissing or even making love, at times - it makes him feel safe and comforted, from what Von Kaiser has been told. Sometimes after an exhausting day they both give each other massages, and Von Kaiser spends some time holding the younger man and petting him like one would do with a cat, and the latter finds this extremely soothing. Von Kaiser runs his hand over the Frenchman's back and shoulders, and moves to grasp the other's hand gently. As he does this he feels that maybe there is something missing, what he could slip on the other's left hand to seal their relationship for good, and just for a moment he feels something ache in his heart. Von Kaiser manages to dismiss the thought, telling himself that they're both too mature to jump ahead with such a commitment, when it hasn't even been a year since they got together. They've been friends for over a decade and they know each other far better than anyone else ever will, but he rationalizes that friendship and that strange little thing called love are too different. Either way, he'll think about it later.
Still, there is one thing he's sure of: they should do more baking together. Von Kaiser pulls his sleeping lover closer to him and closes his eyes; perhaps next time they'll get far enough to savor the finished product before they move on to each other, he thinks wryly, before letting sleep finally overtake him.
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