FAKE Ficlet: Trash Day
Title: Trash Day
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee/Ryo
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Ryo is supposed to be resting his injured leg, so what is he doing halfway down the stairs?
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 490: Trash at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Dee was halfway up the three flights of stairs to Ryo’s apartment when he came face-to-face with the man himself, limping his way slowly and painfully downwards, one stair at a time, lugging a black trash bag.
“Just what d’ya think you’re doin’, dumbass? You’re supposed to be restin’; the doc said for you to keep off that leg as much as possible!”
Ryo gave his lover a dirty look. “And I’d love to be doing just that, but Bikky forgot to take the trash out this morning and it’s collection day,” Ryo grumbled. “Sometimes I really wish I lived in a building with a trash chute; it would make life a lot easier.”
“Gimme that.” Dee reached for the trash bag. “I’ll dump it for ya. I was comin’ over to see if ya needed help with anything before I head for work anyway. You stay right where you are, I’ll be two minutes, tops, and then I’ll help ya back up the stairs. You’d better not have torn out any stitches.”
It had been Ryo’s back luck that when a suspect had been ordered to drop his weapon immediately and put his hands up, he’d done so instantly, letting the .22 calibre pistol drop to the ground without putting the safety on. The gun had gone off, the bullet ricocheting off the wall of the trash-strewn alley to hit Ryo in the right thigh, resulting in him spending a couple of days in hospital before being allowed home with strict instructions to rest his leg. Which was what he had been doing, getting around the apartment on crutches whenever he had to do anything, until he’d noticed the bag of trash still sitting by the door, where he’d put it the night before so that Bikky would remember to drop it in the dumpster on his way to school.
“I’ll string that brat up by his ears,” Dee muttered, taking the bag from Ryo’s hand. “And where are your crutches?”
“I left them up on the landing,” Ryo admitted. “Stairs, crutches, and a bag of trash was never gonna work; I didn’t have enough hands. I needed one for the bag and the other for the stair-rail.”
Shaking his head, Dee bounded down the stairs. Ryo’s building didn’t even have an elevator; getting him up to his apartment two days ago had been difficult enough, and now because of the house ape’s thoughtlessness he’d got to do it again. He didn’t want to leave Ryo standing on the stairs for long either; it wouldn’t help his injured leg any, and Dee knew from personal experience the strain it would be putting on Ryo’s good leg.
Trash dumped, Dee was back at his partner’s side in record time, one arm around Ryo’s waist while Ryo slung an arm around his shoulders. The climb back up the stairs was laborious, but they made it.
Lowering Ryo to the sofa, Dee made him comfortable. “There ya go.”
“Thanks, Dee.”
“Anytime, babe.”
The End
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee/Ryo
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7.
Summary: Ryo is supposed to be resting his injured leg, so what is he doing halfway down the stairs?
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 490: Trash at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Dee was halfway up the three flights of stairs to Ryo’s apartment when he came face-to-face with the man himself, limping his way slowly and painfully downwards, one stair at a time, lugging a black trash bag.
“Just what d’ya think you’re doin’, dumbass? You’re supposed to be restin’; the doc said for you to keep off that leg as much as possible!”
Ryo gave his lover a dirty look. “And I’d love to be doing just that, but Bikky forgot to take the trash out this morning and it’s collection day,” Ryo grumbled. “Sometimes I really wish I lived in a building with a trash chute; it would make life a lot easier.”
“Gimme that.” Dee reached for the trash bag. “I’ll dump it for ya. I was comin’ over to see if ya needed help with anything before I head for work anyway. You stay right where you are, I’ll be two minutes, tops, and then I’ll help ya back up the stairs. You’d better not have torn out any stitches.”
It had been Ryo’s back luck that when a suspect had been ordered to drop his weapon immediately and put his hands up, he’d done so instantly, letting the .22 calibre pistol drop to the ground without putting the safety on. The gun had gone off, the bullet ricocheting off the wall of the trash-strewn alley to hit Ryo in the right thigh, resulting in him spending a couple of days in hospital before being allowed home with strict instructions to rest his leg. Which was what he had been doing, getting around the apartment on crutches whenever he had to do anything, until he’d noticed the bag of trash still sitting by the door, where he’d put it the night before so that Bikky would remember to drop it in the dumpster on his way to school.
“I’ll string that brat up by his ears,” Dee muttered, taking the bag from Ryo’s hand. “And where are your crutches?”
“I left them up on the landing,” Ryo admitted. “Stairs, crutches, and a bag of trash was never gonna work; I didn’t have enough hands. I needed one for the bag and the other for the stair-rail.”
Shaking his head, Dee bounded down the stairs. Ryo’s building didn’t even have an elevator; getting him up to his apartment two days ago had been difficult enough, and now because of the house ape’s thoughtlessness he’d got to do it again. He didn’t want to leave Ryo standing on the stairs for long either; it wouldn’t help his injured leg any, and Dee knew from personal experience the strain it would be putting on Ryo’s good leg.
Trash dumped, Dee was back at his partner’s side in record time, one arm around Ryo’s waist while Ryo slung an arm around his shoulders. The climb back up the stairs was laborious, but they made it.
Lowering Ryo to the sofa, Dee made him comfortable. “There ya go.”
“Thanks, Dee.”
“Anytime, babe.”
The End