FIC: Keigo x Ikkaku
Title: The True Test of Manliness
Pairing: Keigo x Ikkaku (sort of)
Rating: G
Done for: raikune
“Ne, Ikkaku, open this for me.”
Keigo looked up from his bento, eyes drawn to the glass jar in Yumichika’s hand. Rather nondescript and utterly ordinary, it nonetheless glowed green in the sun, diced pickles floating within.
Across from Yumichika and next to Keigo, Ikkaku sighed and held out his hand for the jar.
The world shifted around Keigo in that moment, became one of those surreal droplets of time where your destiny hung in the balance. If you chose one way, you were doomed to a life of misery and invisibly, regretting always the decision you did not make. On the other hand, the path led to riches and greatness, forever hailed as a hero and living out your dreams, no matter how unrealistic they might be. It was one of those singular moments the gods placed before you, tapping their foot, waiting for your decision, giving you this chance to take destiny in your hands and shape your own future, so you had better not waste it.
“I’ll do it!” Keigo blurted, time moving at hyper speed as he reached out and snagged the jar.
Yumichika blinked in surprise, and Ikkaku grumbled something, but neither protested. Keigo squared his shoulders and gripped the jar tightly, wedging his fingers around the lid till he felt he had the right grip. He jutted his jaw out, gritted his teeth and -
“Ghhh!”
He strained till his fingers turned white and his wrist cried out in protest and being twisted at such an odd angle. Keigo slumped back, glaring at the offending jar, fingers stinging. The three of them sat there in the anticlimactic silence.
“Give it,” Ikkaku growled, his hand sliding into Keigo’s field of vision.
People often accused Keigo of being stupid, but one could never accuse Keigo of not having simply the best reflexes in his class. He did a sort butt hop out of reach of Ikkaku, glaring at the bald-headed “student”. Ikkaku glared back, red-rimmed eyes narrow and mouth set in an annoyed sneer.
That sneer struck something in Keigo, plucked the strings of his heart. How pathetic was he, really, that he couldn’t even get a pickle jar open? When you thought about, the pickle jar was the single most important test of one’s manliness! And Keigo knew Ikkaku valued manliness above all else, seeing as how he was the manliest man there was! (Which made Keigo wonder why Ikkaku took more interest in the feminine Yumichika than himself - that rather hurt).
He gripped the cap with renewed energy, gripping with all his might, muscles straining, his wrist popping in protest. He ground his teeth and sucked in a lungful of air, bending to the task a third time, hugging the jar in the crook of his arm for added support. He grunted and strained, palm slipping on the cool metal of the slid as sweat built.
Finally he sagged, panting, fingers feeling sore and still crooked in their death grip over the lid.
“Tch.” Before Keigo could protest, Ikkaku snapped the pickle jar and popped it open without battling an eyelash, thrusting the jaw at Yumichika.
The raven-haired beauty-lover took the bottle with a little smile, dipping a finger in and bringing out a pickle, munching on it before holding it out in offering to the other two. Keigo sullenly refused to take one - he didn’t deserve it. He had failed again! What did Ikkaku think of him now, knowing that he couldn’t even open a pickle jar on his own? How weak was he? How… how… how unmanly was he?
Somewhere, Keigo was sure he heard the gods laughing at him.
Yumichika licked his fingers and pulled another jar out - a jar of peanut butter. “Ikkaku,” he purred, the man in question growling around his pickle and holding out his hand in exasperation.
Maybe the gods weren’t laughing after all.
Pairing: Keigo x Ikkaku (sort of)
Rating: G
Done for: raikune
“Ne, Ikkaku, open this for me.”
Keigo looked up from his bento, eyes drawn to the glass jar in Yumichika’s hand. Rather nondescript and utterly ordinary, it nonetheless glowed green in the sun, diced pickles floating within.
Across from Yumichika and next to Keigo, Ikkaku sighed and held out his hand for the jar.
The world shifted around Keigo in that moment, became one of those surreal droplets of time where your destiny hung in the balance. If you chose one way, you were doomed to a life of misery and invisibly, regretting always the decision you did not make. On the other hand, the path led to riches and greatness, forever hailed as a hero and living out your dreams, no matter how unrealistic they might be. It was one of those singular moments the gods placed before you, tapping their foot, waiting for your decision, giving you this chance to take destiny in your hands and shape your own future, so you had better not waste it.
“I’ll do it!” Keigo blurted, time moving at hyper speed as he reached out and snagged the jar.
Yumichika blinked in surprise, and Ikkaku grumbled something, but neither protested. Keigo squared his shoulders and gripped the jar tightly, wedging his fingers around the lid till he felt he had the right grip. He jutted his jaw out, gritted his teeth and -
“Ghhh!”
He strained till his fingers turned white and his wrist cried out in protest and being twisted at such an odd angle. Keigo slumped back, glaring at the offending jar, fingers stinging. The three of them sat there in the anticlimactic silence.
“Give it,” Ikkaku growled, his hand sliding into Keigo’s field of vision.
People often accused Keigo of being stupid, but one could never accuse Keigo of not having simply the best reflexes in his class. He did a sort butt hop out of reach of Ikkaku, glaring at the bald-headed “student”. Ikkaku glared back, red-rimmed eyes narrow and mouth set in an annoyed sneer.
That sneer struck something in Keigo, plucked the strings of his heart. How pathetic was he, really, that he couldn’t even get a pickle jar open? When you thought about, the pickle jar was the single most important test of one’s manliness! And Keigo knew Ikkaku valued manliness above all else, seeing as how he was the manliest man there was! (Which made Keigo wonder why Ikkaku took more interest in the feminine Yumichika than himself - that rather hurt).
He gripped the cap with renewed energy, gripping with all his might, muscles straining, his wrist popping in protest. He ground his teeth and sucked in a lungful of air, bending to the task a third time, hugging the jar in the crook of his arm for added support. He grunted and strained, palm slipping on the cool metal of the slid as sweat built.
Finally he sagged, panting, fingers feeling sore and still crooked in their death grip over the lid.
“Tch.” Before Keigo could protest, Ikkaku snapped the pickle jar and popped it open without battling an eyelash, thrusting the jaw at Yumichika.
The raven-haired beauty-lover took the bottle with a little smile, dipping a finger in and bringing out a pickle, munching on it before holding it out in offering to the other two. Keigo sullenly refused to take one - he didn’t deserve it. He had failed again! What did Ikkaku think of him now, knowing that he couldn’t even open a pickle jar on his own? How weak was he? How… how… how unmanly was he?
Somewhere, Keigo was sure he heard the gods laughing at him.
Yumichika licked his fingers and pulled another jar out - a jar of peanut butter. “Ikkaku,” he purred, the man in question growling around his pickle and holding out his hand in exasperation.
Maybe the gods weren’t laughing after all.