[fanfic] Banter and Hiding
Title: Banter and Hiding
Fandom: EXO x FMA crossover
Characters/pairing: Luhan, Lay
Genre: gen, drabble
Rating: G
A/N: Because I'm rewatching old school FMA and feels okay. I hope this will become an extensive AU, but knowing my sporadic, probably not.
---------------------------------
If Lay had once been surprised by angry, dirty policemen barging in the doors to his modest pub looking like they were chasing Satan himself, he had certainly gotten past that at this point. He barely glances up from the counter as the leading officer kicks down a table angrily before storming up to the owner.
“Where is he?!” He demands, his breath foul and unwelcome in Lay’s personal sphere. The barkeep doesn’t bother responding verbally, but only nods to the - completely open - backdoor beside the counter. The officer doesn’t even thank him, but rushes out with his companions hot on his tail.
Lay sighs and moves to close the door. The policemen are already out of sight, but he doesn’t care for the draft, and god forbid that some stray cat might walk into his pub. The customers are scarce enough as it is.
“I don’t appreciate you using my place to sneak away, you know,” he remarks and glares at the fair man crouching underneath the counter. “I can give you a bed, but if you keep running through here, they’ll get suspicious.”
“Nah, they’re too dumb,” the man grins back at him and weasels out as he brushes off his clothes (much to Lay’s dismay - he should’ve done that outside). Thank god there are no patrons in at the moment. “If they’re catching on, I’ll switch tactics, I promise.”
“I’d prefer it if you got a real job instead,” Lay frowns and lifts the table the officer had knocked down earlier. “I’m serious, Luhan.”
The response is preceded by a scoff. “I had a real job. Not my fault that the government outlawed what I was good at.”
“Well, they did - “ Lay grabs his dish cloth from the sink and smacks Luhan with it. “Now adapt.”
“I don’t conform to shit,” Luhan says proudly, but the effect is downplayed when he frowns at the offending rag. “What’s for dinner?”
Lay sighs and resists the urge to roll his eyes. He is so tempted to refuse Luhan any food and tell him it’s for the paying customers, but he isn’t fooling anyone, and even though Luhan is a bit of a charity case, it’s better than letting the food go to waste. Not that he could, even if he wanted to, refuse Luhan anything at all.
The damn leech knows him too well.
“Stew,” he says and nods towards the sizable pot by the fire. “With vegetables.”
“Vegetables?” Luhan echoes and raises an eyebrow. “But Lay, it’s only Thursday.”
“It’s a bribe to keep you in today,” the barkeep admits and he is oddly pleased when Luhan chuckles at him.
Maybe he should demand that Luhan starts giving something back soon. Maybe he needs to stop being so nice to him and force the blond to let go of his stubbornness. Maybe that is what would give Luhan the push he sorely needed.
But somehow, he just can’t.
In a really paradoxical way, Lay really hates Luhan sometimes.
A scratching sound alerts him from his muses and he looks up from the stew to where Luhan is sitting at a table, using a small piece of chalk to draw on the worn surface. Lay grabs a fermented piece of potato and chunks it at the other.
“Hey!” He puts on his best I’m-angry-now-voice and hopes Luhan takes the hint. “I’ve told you! No alchemy in my bar!”
Luhan only smirks back at him and wipes the chalk stains away with his sleeve. It doesn’t go away completely, but leaves white trails and specks of dust at the otherwise dark wooden panels. Lay throws him the washing rag and Luhan, wisely, doesn’t complain but rubs at the spots dutifully.
He knows he owes Lay a lot, and is eternally grateful for the younger’s forbearance regarding his shenanigans. Luhan doesn’t like to voice it out loud, but he doesn’t know where he’d be without Lay. Probably in jail - maybe dead. Despite his confidence, he doesn’t like jeopardizing Lay’s business, though it’s not like this part of the town is ever subject to random controls, anyway. And even if the pub was inspected, very few would be able to trace the chalk remains to alchemy circles. Gambling would probably be blamed.
But then again, Lay’s animosity towards Luhan’s attempts probably stems from principles rather than fear. Luhan likes that about him.
“Anyways, will you go and pick up Kris from the bay?” Lay asks when the table is deemed clean. “I told him he could join us today, he’s been very busy lately.”
“Of course he is, it’s high season,” Luhan retorts, but gets up and stalks towards the door anyway. He’s not a great fan of the giant, but Lay likes him and he’s good company. Of course, it helps that Kris is more liable than Lay to join him in a game of cards when the night gets longer, and he sucks so badly that Luhan always end up significantly richer than at the start of the evening.
Nonetheless, he likes to act obstinate with Lay and throws the rag after him in mock exasperation. Lay, however, dodges it and watches miserably as it falls into the flames beneath the pot.
“You’re buying me a new one,” he frowns, but Luhan just shrugs at him.
“It was getting dirty and probably needed to be exchanged anyway,” he defends himself, but makes a mental note to get Lay a new cloth. Maybe something straight from the seamstress, this time.
“Whatever.”
Just as Luhan is about to escape the premises, Lay calls after him to stay out of trouble, for once, which Luhan half-heartedly assures him that he will.
However, it doesn’t even take a minute before Lay hears a loud bang and a shattering sound, followed by angry shouts and startled screams. He knows, by now, that Luhan has once more opted to transfigure the bay walls instead of simply walking around them. And he was probably caught. Again.
“Just for once, Luhan, please!”
- ggg idek what this is
- but I like the idea?
- Layhan being forever married I guess
Fandom: EXO x FMA crossover
Characters/pairing: Luhan, Lay
Genre: gen, drabble
Rating: G
A/N: Because I'm rewatching old school FMA and feels okay. I hope this will become an extensive AU, but knowing my sporadic, probably not.
---------------------------------
If Lay had once been surprised by angry, dirty policemen barging in the doors to his modest pub looking like they were chasing Satan himself, he had certainly gotten past that at this point. He barely glances up from the counter as the leading officer kicks down a table angrily before storming up to the owner.
“Where is he?!” He demands, his breath foul and unwelcome in Lay’s personal sphere. The barkeep doesn’t bother responding verbally, but only nods to the - completely open - backdoor beside the counter. The officer doesn’t even thank him, but rushes out with his companions hot on his tail.
Lay sighs and moves to close the door. The policemen are already out of sight, but he doesn’t care for the draft, and god forbid that some stray cat might walk into his pub. The customers are scarce enough as it is.
“I don’t appreciate you using my place to sneak away, you know,” he remarks and glares at the fair man crouching underneath the counter. “I can give you a bed, but if you keep running through here, they’ll get suspicious.”
“Nah, they’re too dumb,” the man grins back at him and weasels out as he brushes off his clothes (much to Lay’s dismay - he should’ve done that outside). Thank god there are no patrons in at the moment. “If they’re catching on, I’ll switch tactics, I promise.”
“I’d prefer it if you got a real job instead,” Lay frowns and lifts the table the officer had knocked down earlier. “I’m serious, Luhan.”
The response is preceded by a scoff. “I had a real job. Not my fault that the government outlawed what I was good at.”
“Well, they did - “ Lay grabs his dish cloth from the sink and smacks Luhan with it. “Now adapt.”
“I don’t conform to shit,” Luhan says proudly, but the effect is downplayed when he frowns at the offending rag. “What’s for dinner?”
Lay sighs and resists the urge to roll his eyes. He is so tempted to refuse Luhan any food and tell him it’s for the paying customers, but he isn’t fooling anyone, and even though Luhan is a bit of a charity case, it’s better than letting the food go to waste. Not that he could, even if he wanted to, refuse Luhan anything at all.
The damn leech knows him too well.
“Stew,” he says and nods towards the sizable pot by the fire. “With vegetables.”
“Vegetables?” Luhan echoes and raises an eyebrow. “But Lay, it’s only Thursday.”
“It’s a bribe to keep you in today,” the barkeep admits and he is oddly pleased when Luhan chuckles at him.
Maybe he should demand that Luhan starts giving something back soon. Maybe he needs to stop being so nice to him and force the blond to let go of his stubbornness. Maybe that is what would give Luhan the push he sorely needed.
But somehow, he just can’t.
In a really paradoxical way, Lay really hates Luhan sometimes.
A scratching sound alerts him from his muses and he looks up from the stew to where Luhan is sitting at a table, using a small piece of chalk to draw on the worn surface. Lay grabs a fermented piece of potato and chunks it at the other.
“Hey!” He puts on his best I’m-angry-now-voice and hopes Luhan takes the hint. “I’ve told you! No alchemy in my bar!”
Luhan only smirks back at him and wipes the chalk stains away with his sleeve. It doesn’t go away completely, but leaves white trails and specks of dust at the otherwise dark wooden panels. Lay throws him the washing rag and Luhan, wisely, doesn’t complain but rubs at the spots dutifully.
He knows he owes Lay a lot, and is eternally grateful for the younger’s forbearance regarding his shenanigans. Luhan doesn’t like to voice it out loud, but he doesn’t know where he’d be without Lay. Probably in jail - maybe dead. Despite his confidence, he doesn’t like jeopardizing Lay’s business, though it’s not like this part of the town is ever subject to random controls, anyway. And even if the pub was inspected, very few would be able to trace the chalk remains to alchemy circles. Gambling would probably be blamed.
But then again, Lay’s animosity towards Luhan’s attempts probably stems from principles rather than fear. Luhan likes that about him.
“Anyways, will you go and pick up Kris from the bay?” Lay asks when the table is deemed clean. “I told him he could join us today, he’s been very busy lately.”
“Of course he is, it’s high season,” Luhan retorts, but gets up and stalks towards the door anyway. He’s not a great fan of the giant, but Lay likes him and he’s good company. Of course, it helps that Kris is more liable than Lay to join him in a game of cards when the night gets longer, and he sucks so badly that Luhan always end up significantly richer than at the start of the evening.
Nonetheless, he likes to act obstinate with Lay and throws the rag after him in mock exasperation. Lay, however, dodges it and watches miserably as it falls into the flames beneath the pot.
“You’re buying me a new one,” he frowns, but Luhan just shrugs at him.
“It was getting dirty and probably needed to be exchanged anyway,” he defends himself, but makes a mental note to get Lay a new cloth. Maybe something straight from the seamstress, this time.
“Whatever.”
Just as Luhan is about to escape the premises, Lay calls after him to stay out of trouble, for once, which Luhan half-heartedly assures him that he will.
However, it doesn’t even take a minute before Lay hears a loud bang and a shattering sound, followed by angry shouts and startled screams. He knows, by now, that Luhan has once more opted to transfigure the bay walls instead of simply walking around them. And he was probably caught. Again.
“Just for once, Luhan, please!”
- ggg idek what this is
- but I like the idea?
- Layhan being forever married I guess