Fic: Plans
Title: Plans
Pairing: DaiMao
Warnings: If you're not big into the whole real-people-getting-shipped, you shouldn't read this. Also uhhh suggestive themes 8|
For: hibimaosuki Well. Obvs. It might not be all that good, but I couldn't let her have all the fun of writing proper fic.
--
Plans
“Puuuuuuure water from the clear mountain streeeeeeams!” Daisuke sang, kicking the door open. “Hydration is good for you and meeeeee!” Mao was sprawled across the bed more or less where he had left him, though he seemed to have found something to occupy himself with while Daisuke was away. He set the glasses down on the table and jumped on top of him, pressing light kisses into the back of his neck. “What’ve you got there?”
“Something cool!” Mao exclaimed. He rolled over so that Daisuke could take a look. “What’s this?”
“It’s a drawing of a house, kiddo, what’d you think it was?”
He wasn’t quite sure how Mao managed to kick him when he had him completely pinned, but somehow it didn’t surprise him. “Not that, I mean all of this. This entire sketchbook.”
Daisuke sighed and got off. “Just a bunch of designs for things I’d like to see built someday.” He wrapped his hands around the glasses to get them good and cold before bringing them down on Mao’s bare back. Mao yelled and twisted around to try to smack him, but Daisuke caught his arm and they engaged in a short, one-sided wrestling match that ended with Daisuke pulling Mao all the way out from under the covers and settling him firmly in his lap.
“Storytime, kiddo.” He picked up the sketchbook and flipped forward a few pages. “How’s this house look to you?”
“Hmm, pretty cool. There’s… a lot of pillars though. What’s that about? Someone compensating for something?”
“You tell me,” Daisuke said with a grin. “Welcome to the Watanabe-Hamao mansion, current draft. And, for the record, I happen to like pillars.”
“Well, obviously,” Mao scoffed, rocking backwards in a way carefully calculated to make Daisuke shiver. His eyes widened. “Wait, so this is-”
Daisuke grinned and slid an arm tightly around his waist. “When I meet someone I really like, I start planning for the future. Girls think about weddings, right? I think about houses. I’ve been thinking about this one for a long time now.” He tapped the paper with his free hand. “This is the 17th revision of this particular household. You don’t want to know how many pillars there were in the first draft.” Mao laughed and shifted slightly in order to kiss him. Daisuke returned the kiss gently before flipping to the next page. “Care to take a tour?” he whispered. Mao nodded, eyes shining.
“Then welcome to the front hall.”
“Woooow… Is that marble? And… more pillars? Dai-”
“Those are Doric columns, actually. There’s a difference.” He was about to explain exactly what that difference was, but Mao swatted at him and he got the hint. “Hey, so you’re going to cook for me all the time, right?”
“What? I’m not going to be some housewife, you know. Besides, my mom does most of the cooking so I still have a lot to learn. Besides, shouldn’t you be able to cook for yourself by now?”
Daisuke ignored the question. “Do you think your mom would cook for us if we bribed her with this kitchen?” He turned the page and Mao blinked a few times before shrugging.
“Probably. As long as she doesn’t get blinded by all the shiny things you’ve got in there.”
Daisuke giggled nefariously. “All according to plan.” Mao was about to call him out on extreme dorkiness when he flipped to the next page. “How’s this, then?”
“That’s… beautiful. You mean we’re going to sleep together in a big fancy bed like that someday?”
“What? No, no, that’s totally different! That’s the guest room your mom’s gonna stay in when she comes to cook for us. Our bed doesn’t have any canopies or fancy bedposts or anything!” Daisuke looked utterly horrified.
Mao rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just make sure it’s big enough for both of us. It’s bad enough that you always hog the covers without kicking me out of bed on top of that.”
Daisuke turned the page a little hesitantly. “Would… something like this be okay?”
At first Mao couldn’t say anything about it at all. He spun to face Daisuke. “Okay…?” His face split into a wide grin and he hugged Daisuke tightly. “This is more than okay, it’s wonderful!”
Daisuke breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Glad you approve.”
“Mmm. But you know, you couldn’t disappoint me unless you tried. What’s next?”
“Ah, there really isn’t any more… I don’t really have a clear vision for any of the other rooms.” He closed the sketchbook and rested his head on Mao’s shoulder. “That’s where I was hoping you could help,” he mumbled.
“Really? What do I get to do? Will you let me design it all?” Mao was bouncing slightly and tapping his fingers against Daisuke’s leg like he was itching to get a pencil, or possibly a crayon, in his hands right away.
“I’m not just going to let you do whatever you want. We’ll end up living in something that looks like it came out of a sentai show, the way you’ve been acting recently.”
“I’m not going to color-code everything,” Mao protested, but his eyes didn’t quite meet Daisuke’s.
“I don’t believe you!” Daisuke sang. He put one of the water glasses into Mao’s hands. “Drink it all up, kiddo, if you lose your voice, you can’t argue properly with me, and violence is never a good means of communication.”
“I am not going to lose my voice. That happened once and it was not my fault,” Mao hissed, but drank the water obediently. When he finished it, Daisuke set it back on the table and lay down, kicking the tangled sheets back and pulling them up around him. Mao followed his lead, recovering the blanket that had fallen on the floor at some point and throwing it over Daisuke before sliding under the covers and wrapping himself around him.
“So what do I get to design?” he asked, running a finger along Daisuke’s collarbone. “Seems like you’ve done a lot already.”
“There’s still plenty for you to do,” Daisuke protested, shifting his position slightly so that Mao was on top of him. “I don’t know what to do about the dining room, the bathroom, the entertainment room…”
“Hmm? I thought you already did the bedroom.”
“I-” It took him a second, but he grinned and kissed him. “For when only one of us is at home.”
Mao smiled down at Daisuke, looking his most angelic. “Well, we’re both here now… Entertain me?”
And how could Daisuke refuse a request like that?
-
“Note to self: Destroy all copies of the formerly proposed Watanabe-Saikawa household. It was a lovely house but if Mao finds out about it, you won’t walk properly for a week. And not in a good way either.”
--
I'm not really sure what else to say about this, to be honest.
Pairing: DaiMao
Warnings: If you're not big into the whole real-people-getting-shipped, you shouldn't read this. Also uhhh suggestive themes 8|
For: hibimaosuki Well. Obvs. It might not be all that good, but I couldn't let her have all the fun of writing proper fic.
--
Plans
“Puuuuuuure water from the clear mountain streeeeeeams!” Daisuke sang, kicking the door open. “Hydration is good for you and meeeeee!” Mao was sprawled across the bed more or less where he had left him, though he seemed to have found something to occupy himself with while Daisuke was away. He set the glasses down on the table and jumped on top of him, pressing light kisses into the back of his neck. “What’ve you got there?”
“Something cool!” Mao exclaimed. He rolled over so that Daisuke could take a look. “What’s this?”
“It’s a drawing of a house, kiddo, what’d you think it was?”
He wasn’t quite sure how Mao managed to kick him when he had him completely pinned, but somehow it didn’t surprise him. “Not that, I mean all of this. This entire sketchbook.”
Daisuke sighed and got off. “Just a bunch of designs for things I’d like to see built someday.” He wrapped his hands around the glasses to get them good and cold before bringing them down on Mao’s bare back. Mao yelled and twisted around to try to smack him, but Daisuke caught his arm and they engaged in a short, one-sided wrestling match that ended with Daisuke pulling Mao all the way out from under the covers and settling him firmly in his lap.
“Storytime, kiddo.” He picked up the sketchbook and flipped forward a few pages. “How’s this house look to you?”
“Hmm, pretty cool. There’s… a lot of pillars though. What’s that about? Someone compensating for something?”
“You tell me,” Daisuke said with a grin. “Welcome to the Watanabe-Hamao mansion, current draft. And, for the record, I happen to like pillars.”
“Well, obviously,” Mao scoffed, rocking backwards in a way carefully calculated to make Daisuke shiver. His eyes widened. “Wait, so this is-”
Daisuke grinned and slid an arm tightly around his waist. “When I meet someone I really like, I start planning for the future. Girls think about weddings, right? I think about houses. I’ve been thinking about this one for a long time now.” He tapped the paper with his free hand. “This is the 17th revision of this particular household. You don’t want to know how many pillars there were in the first draft.” Mao laughed and shifted slightly in order to kiss him. Daisuke returned the kiss gently before flipping to the next page. “Care to take a tour?” he whispered. Mao nodded, eyes shining.
“Then welcome to the front hall.”
“Woooow… Is that marble? And… more pillars? Dai-”
“Those are Doric columns, actually. There’s a difference.” He was about to explain exactly what that difference was, but Mao swatted at him and he got the hint. “Hey, so you’re going to cook for me all the time, right?”
“What? I’m not going to be some housewife, you know. Besides, my mom does most of the cooking so I still have a lot to learn. Besides, shouldn’t you be able to cook for yourself by now?”
Daisuke ignored the question. “Do you think your mom would cook for us if we bribed her with this kitchen?” He turned the page and Mao blinked a few times before shrugging.
“Probably. As long as she doesn’t get blinded by all the shiny things you’ve got in there.”
Daisuke giggled nefariously. “All according to plan.” Mao was about to call him out on extreme dorkiness when he flipped to the next page. “How’s this, then?”
“That’s… beautiful. You mean we’re going to sleep together in a big fancy bed like that someday?”
“What? No, no, that’s totally different! That’s the guest room your mom’s gonna stay in when she comes to cook for us. Our bed doesn’t have any canopies or fancy bedposts or anything!” Daisuke looked utterly horrified.
Mao rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just make sure it’s big enough for both of us. It’s bad enough that you always hog the covers without kicking me out of bed on top of that.”
Daisuke turned the page a little hesitantly. “Would… something like this be okay?”
At first Mao couldn’t say anything about it at all. He spun to face Daisuke. “Okay…?” His face split into a wide grin and he hugged Daisuke tightly. “This is more than okay, it’s wonderful!”
Daisuke breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Glad you approve.”
“Mmm. But you know, you couldn’t disappoint me unless you tried. What’s next?”
“Ah, there really isn’t any more… I don’t really have a clear vision for any of the other rooms.” He closed the sketchbook and rested his head on Mao’s shoulder. “That’s where I was hoping you could help,” he mumbled.
“Really? What do I get to do? Will you let me design it all?” Mao was bouncing slightly and tapping his fingers against Daisuke’s leg like he was itching to get a pencil, or possibly a crayon, in his hands right away.
“I’m not just going to let you do whatever you want. We’ll end up living in something that looks like it came out of a sentai show, the way you’ve been acting recently.”
“I’m not going to color-code everything,” Mao protested, but his eyes didn’t quite meet Daisuke’s.
“I don’t believe you!” Daisuke sang. He put one of the water glasses into Mao’s hands. “Drink it all up, kiddo, if you lose your voice, you can’t argue properly with me, and violence is never a good means of communication.”
“I am not going to lose my voice. That happened once and it was not my fault,” Mao hissed, but drank the water obediently. When he finished it, Daisuke set it back on the table and lay down, kicking the tangled sheets back and pulling them up around him. Mao followed his lead, recovering the blanket that had fallen on the floor at some point and throwing it over Daisuke before sliding under the covers and wrapping himself around him.
“So what do I get to design?” he asked, running a finger along Daisuke’s collarbone. “Seems like you’ve done a lot already.”
“There’s still plenty for you to do,” Daisuke protested, shifting his position slightly so that Mao was on top of him. “I don’t know what to do about the dining room, the bathroom, the entertainment room…”
“Hmm? I thought you already did the bedroom.”
“I-” It took him a second, but he grinned and kissed him. “For when only one of us is at home.”
Mao smiled down at Daisuke, looking his most angelic. “Well, we’re both here now… Entertain me?”
And how could Daisuke refuse a request like that?
-
“Note to self: Destroy all copies of the formerly proposed Watanabe-Saikawa household. It was a lovely house but if Mao finds out about it, you won’t walk properly for a week. And not in a good way either.”
--
I'm not really sure what else to say about this, to be honest.