{{Drabble}} 100_colours // #13 Lemon // Minorshipping.
Title: Fresh
Claim: YGO!DM [Otogi Ryuuji, Bakura Ryou. Minorshipping.]
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implications of sex plans.
Word Count: 300
Summary: How did they end up together? Who knows. Maybe they bonded over escaping their school fan girls. (Or embracing the attention, ne Otogi?)
Notes: #13 - Lemon
Seven hours for sleep and everything else, but he insisted on emptying the dryer and dressing the mattress from sheet to case before they made use of it. And no amount of drawing pulls or dismissals of wasting precious minutes would deter him. Bakura just leaned hips from his touch and smiled in his unaffected-set-smiling way and put the basket between them in the narrow hall, forcing Otogi into the corner long enough to slip into the bedroom and lock the door. Lest his house guest get ideas of taking advantage of a body stretched out to fit sheet elastic over a far wall corner (he learned fast, that one).
It would all be very discouraging, if the same boy didn't plastered himself to his back five minutes later, clutching his waist with cheery cries of “ready when you are” like he'd finished setting up one of his boards. Too bad he couldn't help but ask, looking over his shoulder while kneeing the television off “Absolutely certain? There's no carpets or dishes or windows begging for attention first?” For the next ten minutes he lounged in a kitchen chair, eying a washing Bakura. Who chatted about needing to finish their school project tomorrow. Like he didn't hear the dice bouncing on the table.
But he must have since he looked back when the noise stopped, just as he stuck the last bowl on the drying rack. That gave him the warning of a bright-eyed smirk before he was pressed into the sink, water seeping into his jeans the likely but not certain culprit of the shivers. It made for a slippery foundation, but when he settled enough to drag his hands up to painted cheeks and black hair, Otogi wondered if that smell was the detergent or the dish soap.
Claim: YGO!DM [Otogi Ryuuji, Bakura Ryou. Minorshipping.]
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implications of sex plans.
Word Count: 300
Summary: How did they end up together? Who knows. Maybe they bonded over escaping their school fan girls. (Or embracing the attention, ne Otogi?)
Notes: #13 - Lemon
Seven hours for sleep and everything else, but he insisted on emptying the dryer and dressing the mattress from sheet to case before they made use of it. And no amount of drawing pulls or dismissals of wasting precious minutes would deter him. Bakura just leaned hips from his touch and smiled in his unaffected-set-smiling way and put the basket between them in the narrow hall, forcing Otogi into the corner long enough to slip into the bedroom and lock the door. Lest his house guest get ideas of taking advantage of a body stretched out to fit sheet elastic over a far wall corner (he learned fast, that one).
It would all be very discouraging, if the same boy didn't plastered himself to his back five minutes later, clutching his waist with cheery cries of “ready when you are” like he'd finished setting up one of his boards. Too bad he couldn't help but ask, looking over his shoulder while kneeing the television off “Absolutely certain? There's no carpets or dishes or windows begging for attention first?” For the next ten minutes he lounged in a kitchen chair, eying a washing Bakura. Who chatted about needing to finish their school project tomorrow. Like he didn't hear the dice bouncing on the table.
But he must have since he looked back when the noise stopped, just as he stuck the last bowl on the drying rack. That gave him the warning of a bright-eyed smirk before he was pressed into the sink, water seeping into his jeans the likely but not certain culprit of the shivers. It made for a slippery foundation, but when he settled enough to drag his hands up to painted cheeks and black hair, Otogi wondered if that smell was the detergent or the dish soap.