[Fic] xxxHolic - Three drabbles and fanart
Three random drabbles and fanart
Titles: Kitchen | Something Else | Elevator
Author/Artist: mushroom18
A/N: Much love and sparkles to yokokitsu for the quick beta. ♥
Kitchen
Surprisingly, the two do not have sex in the kitchen, no matter what Yuuko suggests. The kitchen is too sacred for them--Watanuki believes that cooking is Serious Business, so the mere thought of wiping nasty stains from the kitchen counter is utter blasphemy. Doumeki agrees; he prefers eating food and Watanuki separately, so he can concentrate. Yes.
Also, contrary to popular belief, they do not smear chocolate/strawberry/pineapple syrup on each other's bodies. It's sticky and gross, Watanuki says, and Doumeki does not complain because he’s pretty pleased with how things are going.
The closest they've gotten to Sex in the Kitchen is on the table at the center of the room. Watanuki smelled like he had just launched himself into a pool of raspberry vodka. He was wearing a checkered apron, untied sneakers and nothing else. Doumeki bit on every piece of skin revealed to him, hungry. He had no pants.
The next day, Doumeki helps Watanuki prepare dinner.
Why don’t you put those on the table, suggests Doumeki.
Watanuki almost drops the plate. What table?
Doumeki points, but Watanuki does. Not. See. Anything.
The metaphorical table remains untouched. Watanuki walks ‘round it while he's cooking; he bends his hips sideways to avoid contact between skin and wood, making every movement seem like an awkward dance. Sometimes he stares at the nonexistent table and blushes-it reminds him of unified moans and stupid, annoying, pants-less Doumeki. Not that there’s a table to begin with. Or something.
One day Doumeki tries to move the table, but Watanuki stops him. The kitchen looks bare, Watanuki stutters, and his lover smirks in reply.
Something Else
Doumeki scares you. He has stared death in the face, has bled on your arms, on damp soil--on your futon-but he’s still with you, and it’s damn confusing because you’re pretty sure you both hate each other. There is an annoyance in the way he opens and closes his mouth in silence, over and over again, and he could just say it, you know? He could shout but he doesn’t-you know he’s annoyed at you for doing things. Predictably. And he annoys you, too, but that’s not the point. The point is, you hate him with so much energy, so much passion, that it feels like something else. Tomorrow Doumeki will bleed for you, again, and what about the other days, months, years? Is he willing to die for you? You don’t know. All you know is that tomorrow, before anything else, you need to tell him to live for you. Doumeki thinks he’s doing you a favour, but there are other things you want from him. You want to see him breathing, and why should you care again? You hate him because he scares you. Doumeki scares you.
Elevator
Watanuki is surprisingly silent. Doumeki expected him to go Dammit, why am I stuck in a smelly elevator with this asshole and not with cute Himawari-chan and start flailing and ripping his hair off, but he is silent. Trembling, even. Doumeki notices these things.
"What's wrong?" Doumeki asks immediately.
"Don'tlookupdon'tlookupohpleasedon'tlookup."
"What?" Doumeki slowly lifts his gaze, but Watanuki whacks his head and hisses, "I said, don't look up."
"What is it?"
"There's...There's something up there, idiot."
Doumeki stares at him. Watanuki's head is bowed, and his toes point inward. His face is ashen; his lips slightly purple.
Doumeki holds Watanuki close.
They do not move.
And...fanart.
Me: *stares* ...This is the gayest Watanuki. Ever.
Brother: *annoyed* But they're gay, anyway!
Me: ...what
Titles: Kitchen | Something Else | Elevator
Author/Artist: mushroom18
A/N: Much love and sparkles to yokokitsu for the quick beta. ♥
Kitchen
Surprisingly, the two do not have sex in the kitchen, no matter what Yuuko suggests. The kitchen is too sacred for them--Watanuki believes that cooking is Serious Business, so the mere thought of wiping nasty stains from the kitchen counter is utter blasphemy. Doumeki agrees; he prefers eating food and Watanuki separately, so he can concentrate. Yes.
Also, contrary to popular belief, they do not smear chocolate/strawberry/pineapple syrup on each other's bodies. It's sticky and gross, Watanuki says, and Doumeki does not complain because he’s pretty pleased with how things are going.
The closest they've gotten to Sex in the Kitchen is on the table at the center of the room. Watanuki smelled like he had just launched himself into a pool of raspberry vodka. He was wearing a checkered apron, untied sneakers and nothing else. Doumeki bit on every piece of skin revealed to him, hungry. He had no pants.
The next day, Doumeki helps Watanuki prepare dinner.
Why don’t you put those on the table, suggests Doumeki.
Watanuki almost drops the plate. What table?
Doumeki points, but Watanuki does. Not. See. Anything.
The metaphorical table remains untouched. Watanuki walks ‘round it while he's cooking; he bends his hips sideways to avoid contact between skin and wood, making every movement seem like an awkward dance. Sometimes he stares at the nonexistent table and blushes-it reminds him of unified moans and stupid, annoying, pants-less Doumeki. Not that there’s a table to begin with. Or something.
One day Doumeki tries to move the table, but Watanuki stops him. The kitchen looks bare, Watanuki stutters, and his lover smirks in reply.
Something Else
Doumeki scares you. He has stared death in the face, has bled on your arms, on damp soil--on your futon-but he’s still with you, and it’s damn confusing because you’re pretty sure you both hate each other. There is an annoyance in the way he opens and closes his mouth in silence, over and over again, and he could just say it, you know? He could shout but he doesn’t-you know he’s annoyed at you for doing things. Predictably. And he annoys you, too, but that’s not the point. The point is, you hate him with so much energy, so much passion, that it feels like something else. Tomorrow Doumeki will bleed for you, again, and what about the other days, months, years? Is he willing to die for you? You don’t know. All you know is that tomorrow, before anything else, you need to tell him to live for you. Doumeki thinks he’s doing you a favour, but there are other things you want from him. You want to see him breathing, and why should you care again? You hate him because he scares you. Doumeki scares you.
Elevator
Watanuki is surprisingly silent. Doumeki expected him to go Dammit, why am I stuck in a smelly elevator with this asshole and not with cute Himawari-chan and start flailing and ripping his hair off, but he is silent. Trembling, even. Doumeki notices these things.
"What's wrong?" Doumeki asks immediately.
"Don'tlookupdon'tlookupohpleasedon'tlookup."
"What?" Doumeki slowly lifts his gaze, but Watanuki whacks his head and hisses, "I said, don't look up."
"What is it?"
"There's...There's something up there, idiot."
Doumeki stares at him. Watanuki's head is bowed, and his toes point inward. His face is ashen; his lips slightly purple.
Doumeki holds Watanuki close.
They do not move.
And...fanart.
Me: *stares* ...This is the gayest Watanuki. Ever.
Brother: *annoyed* But they're gay, anyway!
Me: ...what