(no subject)
Title: Make It Better
Fandom: Prince of Tennis.
Featuring: Kid!Atobe and kid!Jirou.
Genre: Fluffgen.
Words: Not many.
Rating: G.
Warnings: Not really.
Notes: Bad execution of a really cute idea. yousogaisaki actually licked a cookie sheet once. I also wrote this right after I burned my tongue by licking the knife I used to cut brownies. Man, last night sucked.
"Jirou, get up, get up!"
Six-year-old Akutagawa Jirou raised his head, staring up at his friend. One of his eyes was half-closed, the other mostly open, giving him a daft, off-balanced sort of look, and his honey-coloured curls were everywhere.
Without waiting for any real response, Keigo grabbed him by the hand and pulled insistently. He got nowhere; Jirou was bigger than he was at six years old, and Keigo wasn't the strongest of boys. Still, he persevered.
"Jirou, Rhonda-san's making cookies! Can't you smell them? I demand that you get up, Jirou. Cookies are better warm." Folding his arms, Keigo made a show of tapping his foot impatiently, arrhythmically.
"Cookies?" Jirou demurred, rolling left, then right. "What kind?"
Keigo paused to lift his head and sniff the air. "Chocolate chip, maybe." He crinkled his nose, then, frowning down at Jirou. "I just keep smelling your stupid sheep. Why don't you wash it?"
Jirou hugged his stuffed animal to his chest, his brow furrowing as he rolled out of the bed altogether. It was quite deliberate - the quickest way to get out of bed - but it still hurt. "Ow.... I don't like Sheepy washed. He smells good."
"Ew. Anyway, let's go!" The younger boy latched onto his friend's arm and began dragging him toward the stairs, sheep and all, blankets still tangled about his legs. Jirou seemed content to be treated like a troublesomely large ragdoll, although he kicked the blankets away before they reached the stairs.
The stairs were taken, for Keigo's part, two at a time, in the rushing, heady way that would have meant a certain and painful tumble if he'd tried to stop before the bottom. His yawning playmate stumbled a little more sedately to the kitchen. By the time he arrived (several seconds after Keigo), the smell of freshly-baked cookies had perked him up.
"Do we -" Keigo slapped a hand over Jirou's mouth and shushed him. Jirou scowled behind his hand, but was obediently silent, watching along with Keigo as Rhonda set the cookie tray out to cool. She then abandoned her oven mitts and left through the other kitchen door to the dining room.
Keigo turned to beam at Jirou. "Now's our chance! Come on!" Jirou turned ragdoll again as Keigo hauled him in to view the cookies.
They were large, perfectly round, and golden brown. The mere sight of them drew noises of boyish delight from Keigo, who was standing on his tiptoes to see them better. "Cookies!" he announced, as if something else might have been expected, and promptly stretched his tongue out to lick the cookie tray.
A wail - more appropriately, a shriek - quickly followed, and Jirou found himself smothering his friend with Sheepy in an attempt to silence him. "Shh, Keigo! Rhonda-san will find us!"
Glossy blue eyes stared back at Jirou, already threatening to spill over with tears. He shut up, though, and Jirou eased the stuffed sheep away from his face.
"Why'd you lick the cookie tray, stupid?" he asked. Keigo whimpered, and Jirou sighed. "Okay, here. Stick your tongue out."
Emitting another pitiful noise, Keigo did as he was told. Promptly, Jirou grabbed both sides of his face, leaned in close, and kissed his friend's tongue.
Keigo shrieked again.
Jirou watched him bolt from the room, looking puzzled, and turned to Sheepy once Keigo was gone. "I just kissed it to make it feel better. S'what Mommy always does."
Fandom: Prince of Tennis.
Featuring: Kid!Atobe and kid!Jirou.
Genre: Fluffgen.
Words: Not many.
Rating: G.
Warnings: Not really.
Notes: Bad execution of a really cute idea. yousogaisaki actually licked a cookie sheet once. I also wrote this right after I burned my tongue by licking the knife I used to cut brownies. Man, last night sucked.
"Jirou, get up, get up!"
Six-year-old Akutagawa Jirou raised his head, staring up at his friend. One of his eyes was half-closed, the other mostly open, giving him a daft, off-balanced sort of look, and his honey-coloured curls were everywhere.
Without waiting for any real response, Keigo grabbed him by the hand and pulled insistently. He got nowhere; Jirou was bigger than he was at six years old, and Keigo wasn't the strongest of boys. Still, he persevered.
"Jirou, Rhonda-san's making cookies! Can't you smell them? I demand that you get up, Jirou. Cookies are better warm." Folding his arms, Keigo made a show of tapping his foot impatiently, arrhythmically.
"Cookies?" Jirou demurred, rolling left, then right. "What kind?"
Keigo paused to lift his head and sniff the air. "Chocolate chip, maybe." He crinkled his nose, then, frowning down at Jirou. "I just keep smelling your stupid sheep. Why don't you wash it?"
Jirou hugged his stuffed animal to his chest, his brow furrowing as he rolled out of the bed altogether. It was quite deliberate - the quickest way to get out of bed - but it still hurt. "Ow.... I don't like Sheepy washed. He smells good."
"Ew. Anyway, let's go!" The younger boy latched onto his friend's arm and began dragging him toward the stairs, sheep and all, blankets still tangled about his legs. Jirou seemed content to be treated like a troublesomely large ragdoll, although he kicked the blankets away before they reached the stairs.
The stairs were taken, for Keigo's part, two at a time, in the rushing, heady way that would have meant a certain and painful tumble if he'd tried to stop before the bottom. His yawning playmate stumbled a little more sedately to the kitchen. By the time he arrived (several seconds after Keigo), the smell of freshly-baked cookies had perked him up.
"Do we -" Keigo slapped a hand over Jirou's mouth and shushed him. Jirou scowled behind his hand, but was obediently silent, watching along with Keigo as Rhonda set the cookie tray out to cool. She then abandoned her oven mitts and left through the other kitchen door to the dining room.
Keigo turned to beam at Jirou. "Now's our chance! Come on!" Jirou turned ragdoll again as Keigo hauled him in to view the cookies.
They were large, perfectly round, and golden brown. The mere sight of them drew noises of boyish delight from Keigo, who was standing on his tiptoes to see them better. "Cookies!" he announced, as if something else might have been expected, and promptly stretched his tongue out to lick the cookie tray.
A wail - more appropriately, a shriek - quickly followed, and Jirou found himself smothering his friend with Sheepy in an attempt to silence him. "Shh, Keigo! Rhonda-san will find us!"
Glossy blue eyes stared back at Jirou, already threatening to spill over with tears. He shut up, though, and Jirou eased the stuffed sheep away from his face.
"Why'd you lick the cookie tray, stupid?" he asked. Keigo whimpered, and Jirou sighed. "Okay, here. Stick your tongue out."
Emitting another pitiful noise, Keigo did as he was told. Promptly, Jirou grabbed both sides of his face, leaned in close, and kissed his friend's tongue.
Keigo shrieked again.
Jirou watched him bolt from the room, looking puzzled, and turned to Sheepy once Keigo was gone. "I just kissed it to make it feel better. S'what Mommy always does."