Not That Kind of Pounding

Lio wrapped his hair around his ears, keeping it in place in preparation for what he would be working on. It’d been a week since Dan had taught him how to make proper dango, and now he wanted to try his hand at mochi. Now, he stood before the man again with a wide grin on his face.

Dan had already cooked the rice and dumped a portion of it into the usu that Lio stood by. “Take this,” Dan said gruffly, passing off a kine to Lio.

Mallet in hand, Lio held the handle tightly, only to be corrected.

“Hold here.” Dan repositioned Lio’s hands to the middle of the handle. “Take a sturdy stance and hope you have enough strength to pound the rice.”

Lio smirked and chuckled. “I’m rather good at pounding things.”

Dan’s expression never wavered. “We’ll work together to pound the rice. When it’s a good consistency, I’ll work it by hand while you pound it. Understand? It’s a simple one-two system.”

“Got it.” Lio nodded and took a sturdy stance, legs just far enough apart to anchor him.

Dan did the first pound, waited for Lio to follow his non-verbal instruction, and then pounded again after Lio. Just as he said, it was a simple one-two system. Dan-Lio-Dan-Lio. A harmonic rhythm. Dan said nothing as he began moving the mochi dough with his mallet each time he pounded, something Lio picked up on fairly quickly.

Lio was already sweating. This was not the type of workout he was used to, and he now firmly understood how Dan looked so damn good. Pounding mochi was no job. There was a certain amount of upper body strength needed to work the mochi that Lio didn’t realise he needed. He felt every hit. One-two-one-two. His arms were already growing fatigued.

When Dan didn’t take his turn hitting, Lio paused, watching him as he knelt to unstick the dough. “Again, it’s a simple one-two system. You hit, I knead.”

Lio nodded again. “Hit-knead. Got it.”

Dan looked up at him. “Don’t hit me with the mallet.”

A shiver ran up Lio’s spine at the man’s words, but he couldn’t tell if it was fear or some kind of turn-on. Either way, Lio took it as a threat.

“When I say hit, you hit.” There was a silence as Dan worked the mochi dough back into one solid mass and then—“Hit.”

Lio brought the mallet down, just as he had been doing previously and when he brought it back up, Dan kneaded the dough. “Hit.” Another pound. A knead. “Hit.” Again and again until they were harmonious in their movements. Lio did his best to keep his mind from comparing his current activity to sex, but it was difficult. Knead. Pound. Knead. Pound. It was the rhythm that got him. Before long, Dan raised his hand, holding it up to signal Lio to stop.

“Is it done?” Lio asked, tail quivering behind him.

“It is.”

His words pleased Lio. “What’s next?”

“Take a break. We have more mochi to pound.”

Lio was shocked. His arms were already tired. He wasn’t sure how much of this workout he could handle, but if he wanted to make mochi, he was going to have to get through it. Every skill needed to start somewhere, even if that meant Lio’s arms would feel like limp noodles for a while.

Dan did the work of removing the freshly pounded mochi dough from the usu only to replace it with more unpounded rice. Lio wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, grateful his lack of clothing made it easier to cool off. Dan picked up his mallet once again and then—one-two-one-two. The same rhythm as before as they worked the rice into what began to look like dough.

By now, even Dan was sweating, which wasn’t a bad look for him. This time, however, Lio was the one kneeling and hoping Dan didn’t take his forearm off. Dan was a professional, so he was completely fine, but the thought was there, just as the thought was there when he was pounding.

Pound—knead—pound—knead. With each turn, Lio grew more confident. Knead—pound—knead. Dan stopped when the dough reached consistency. Lio was sweating and tired, arms shaking and ready to give out like overcooked noodles.

“Would you like to try it?”

Lio nodded. He shakily stood from his position, back twinging slightly as he did—he’d have Juno work that out later. “I would love to try it.”

Dan gave a simple nod and pulled the fresh dough from the mortar. Lio watched as he dropped the first batch onto the counter, sprinkling it with potato starch to work it a bit more. Eventually, they had dozens of perfectly sized mochi balls ready for eating. Lio happily obliged when Dan offered. It was a nice reward for all his hard work.

“Take a rest while I prepare you some mochi to take home.”

Lio took all opportunity to sit and rest. Despite being tired, Dan kept his attention, and Lio observed how he mixed the colouring and added the filling. Lio would have to purchase a mochi-making set in the very near future.

“Lio,” Dan said, and Lio sprang from his seat. “These are for you,” he slid a container of fresh mochi over to him, “as well as this.”

“Huh?” Lio was confused but awkwardly took the mochi mallet offered to him.

“For your hard work. I hope to see you again so that we may continue your mochi lesson.”

Lio smiled as he took the kine. “You know I’ll be back. You have to teach me how to mix the colours in and add the fillings.”

Dan nodded once. “And I will when you return.”

Without another utter of a word, Lio picked up his container of mochi, ensured he had a good grip on his new mallet and headed out of the sweets workshop. He was more than tired—he was exhausted, but he still had to make it home. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far.