[Fic] [Round 52] Terms of Endearment, G
Author/Artist: mugen_edamame
Characters/Pairings: Wolfram/Gisela
Word Count: 615
Rating: G
Any Warnings: AU-setting
Theme/Prompt being used: Ultimate Pairing Challenge
"Honey, I'm home!"
Wolfram growled from the kitchen, and Gisela laughed as she took off her coat.
"What did I say about calling me stupid endearments?" he shouted over the sound of something frying.
She peeked into the kitchen, the rest of her following not long after. "That I shouldn't do it, and that it's immature. But since I'm the older one here, I'm pretty sure I get to decide what's immature. 'Honey' isn't an insult, Wolf."
The blond turned around to glare at her, bangs whipping around. "You call me that because of my hair colour. Well, how would you like it if I called you sludge?"
Gisela's hand immediately flew to her hair, black but for a very strong tint of green that was a result of a botched dye job. "I know you don't mean that. Or I'll have to feed you sedatives and leave you to watch the paint dry in the living room until you repent."
"I'm not afraid of you!"
Wolfram really wasn't, and Gisela didn't really mean it, but they both knew it wouldn't be hard for her to carry out her threat if she really wanted.
Being a doctor and just half an inch shorter than your husband, who is blindly loyal and would not think twice about putting something in his mouth you tell him to, gets you that kind of ability.
Gisela frowned. "You insulted my hair, Wolf. We are having this not-much-of-an-argument because you think 'honey' is somehow an affront to the flamboyance of your hair-"
"It's not flamboyant!"
She glared him into silence.
"The monthly cost for shampoo and conditioner would attest differently. Now, as I was saying, if I can't flatter your hair, you certainly can't insult mine!"
Wolfram pulled a face and turned back to the pan on the stove, attending to the frying pieces of chicken with very little tender-loving care.
With just about no tender-loving care, really.
Gisela shoved him aside. "If you're preparing dinner while you're in a mood, I'd prefer you not prepare dinner at all, Wolfram. Nothing quite like insincere food to cause severe indigestion; trust me, I'm a doctor."
There was a quiet pause; the only sound was the sizzle in the pan.
Wolfram fidgeted, but Gisela ignored him. The man was short-tempered and spoilt, so she believed it was her duty to not let him always get what he wanted.
It helped that she knew he was weak against women, and he felt horrible every time he thought he had offended her. (Wolfram had admitted to this one night in bed, begrudgingly, more to his pillow than to his wife, but Gisela had just hummed and ruffled his hair and gone back to sleep).
Wolfram fidgeted.
Gisela remained resolutely unmoved.
But she did smile when she felt him shuffle to her back and wrap his arms around her waist.
A good thing to have, similar heights. Wolfram's chin rested most comfortably on Gisela's shoulder, and she could hear him breathing softly.
"S'ry," he whispered, sounding distraught. "You... have very lovely hair." He nuzzled the loose strands from her braid to emphasise his point. "It's not like sludge at all. It's soft and very nice."
She hummed, and Wolfram knew that all was fine.
But still, he had something to prove. It was almost unforgivable to upset Gisela after she had just returned from a hard day's work, when he had had the whole week off racing and training (no saddle burns, oh God yes).
Taking a breath to gather his courage, Wolfram continued.
And he could be surprising too, when he felt the occasion called for it.
"Darling," he whispered, "how was your day?"
***
A/N: I cannot simply stand by and allow no entries for this round. It'd be too sad, so instead you get whatever I can come up with in these two days :) Don't post very often, so if I made a mistake please tell me~
Characters/Pairings: Wolfram/Gisela
Word Count: 615
Rating: G
Any Warnings: AU-setting
Theme/Prompt being used: Ultimate Pairing Challenge
"Honey, I'm home!"
Wolfram growled from the kitchen, and Gisela laughed as she took off her coat.
"What did I say about calling me stupid endearments?" he shouted over the sound of something frying.
She peeked into the kitchen, the rest of her following not long after. "That I shouldn't do it, and that it's immature. But since I'm the older one here, I'm pretty sure I get to decide what's immature. 'Honey' isn't an insult, Wolf."
The blond turned around to glare at her, bangs whipping around. "You call me that because of my hair colour. Well, how would you like it if I called you sludge?"
Gisela's hand immediately flew to her hair, black but for a very strong tint of green that was a result of a botched dye job. "I know you don't mean that. Or I'll have to feed you sedatives and leave you to watch the paint dry in the living room until you repent."
"I'm not afraid of you!"
Wolfram really wasn't, and Gisela didn't really mean it, but they both knew it wouldn't be hard for her to carry out her threat if she really wanted.
Being a doctor and just half an inch shorter than your husband, who is blindly loyal and would not think twice about putting something in his mouth you tell him to, gets you that kind of ability.
Gisela frowned. "You insulted my hair, Wolf. We are having this not-much-of-an-argument because you think 'honey' is somehow an affront to the flamboyance of your hair-"
"It's not flamboyant!"
She glared him into silence.
"The monthly cost for shampoo and conditioner would attest differently. Now, as I was saying, if I can't flatter your hair, you certainly can't insult mine!"
Wolfram pulled a face and turned back to the pan on the stove, attending to the frying pieces of chicken with very little tender-loving care.
With just about no tender-loving care, really.
Gisela shoved him aside. "If you're preparing dinner while you're in a mood, I'd prefer you not prepare dinner at all, Wolfram. Nothing quite like insincere food to cause severe indigestion; trust me, I'm a doctor."
There was a quiet pause; the only sound was the sizzle in the pan.
Wolfram fidgeted, but Gisela ignored him. The man was short-tempered and spoilt, so she believed it was her duty to not let him always get what he wanted.
It helped that she knew he was weak against women, and he felt horrible every time he thought he had offended her. (Wolfram had admitted to this one night in bed, begrudgingly, more to his pillow than to his wife, but Gisela had just hummed and ruffled his hair and gone back to sleep).
Wolfram fidgeted.
Gisela remained resolutely unmoved.
But she did smile when she felt him shuffle to her back and wrap his arms around her waist.
A good thing to have, similar heights. Wolfram's chin rested most comfortably on Gisela's shoulder, and she could hear him breathing softly.
"S'ry," he whispered, sounding distraught. "You... have very lovely hair." He nuzzled the loose strands from her braid to emphasise his point. "It's not like sludge at all. It's soft and very nice."
She hummed, and Wolfram knew that all was fine.
But still, he had something to prove. It was almost unforgivable to upset Gisela after she had just returned from a hard day's work, when he had had the whole week off racing and training (no saddle burns, oh God yes).
Taking a breath to gather his courage, Wolfram continued.
And he could be surprising too, when he felt the occasion called for it.
"Darling," he whispered, "how was your day?"
***
A/N: I cannot simply stand by and allow no entries for this round. It'd be too sad, so instead you get whatever I can come up with in these two days :) Don't post very often, so if I made a mistake please tell me~