More requests up!
May. 23rd, 2006 08:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ciirceeMore requests. Several, in fact, because some of the stories requested really had no place to go in my head. My brain just sort of looks at them and goes 'they're done' and leaves me to hang. At least I'm not giving you all 'and they lived happily ever after, the end'.
Requested by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
unpunished, this is the sequel to 'A Drink, A Bath, and Bed' (the first of my 3measures fics). This fic could actually go places, but it'd be huge because of the slow progression they're in.
Couch?
"No way." Watanuki folded his arms.
Doumeki stifled an internal sigh. "It's not blue. It's not beige. It's the right size. It's affordable. They deliver for free. And it's not cursed," he pointed out reasonably.
Watanuki switched his glare from the offending piece of furniture to Doumeki. "I'm not getting a love seat with you."
"It's a couch," Doumeki argued flicking a glance at the sales girl who'd called their couch a love seat.
Watanuki pointed at the girl. "Love seat!"
The sales girl turned a hopeful smile on Doumeki. "Would you two like to see something else?"
Watanuki made an inarticulate sound of rage. "Quit flirting with him," he told her, pointing an accusing finger at Doumeki. "He's…"
"Moving in with you," Doumeki cut him off smoothly.
"Oh," said the shop girl, looking disappointed.
"DOUMEKI!" Watanuki flared up, "YOU DON'T NEED TO TELL PEOPLE THAT!" He wheeled around and stomped off, the little bell over the shop door tinkling merrily as the door wrenched open and then slammed closed behind him.
The girl looked out the store window at the fuming, stomping Watanuki and then back up at Doumeki. "So…he's your boyfriend?"
Only in the sense that I want to strip him naked and pin him to his only comfortable piece of furniture, Doumeki thought calmly. He pointed to the love seat. "Can I just buy the couch?" he asked.
He came home with a receipt which he stuck on the fridge with a magnet. "I got the couch," he told Watanuki.
Watanuki, stirring some sort of white sauce, rolled his eyes at him. "I'm not sitting on that thing," he said.
"Well," Doumeki said, trying to make peace and not stare at the way the fine skin of Watanuki's wrist moved over the sharp bones of his wrist as he stirred. "You don't have to; it's mostly for our guests."
Snorting, Watanuki set down his spoon. "Until you showed up, I didn't have to worry about having guests." He drained the pasta and Doumeki automatically went to set the table. He detoured briefly to the stereo to put on music when the neighbors started up for the night.
Watanuki was staring at him when he came back. "What?" he asked, reaching for the serving bowls.
"Don't act like you live here!" Watanuki said, not letting go of the bowls.
"I do live here," Doumeki said patiently.
"That's a technicality," Watanuki protested, striding to the table. Doumeki watched his back and his too-forceful movements. "It's your first night and that's…you don't know how I do things around here!"
"Okay," Doumeki nodded even though he knew Watanuki couldn't see him. "Why don't you show me? So that I know," he continued. Even as he said it, he could see Watanuki's shoulders relaxing out of their tense set. So he didn't add the rest of what he'd been thinking. You show me your way, I'll show you mine, and we'll find a way to do things together.
It could wait.
This one was requested byarashia and is the sequel to my first-ever Doumeki/Watanuki fic, 'It's as easy as…'. This fic just…to me it ended where it ended. Watanuki knows. Doumeki knows Watanuki knows. Watanuki is pretty sure that Doumeki knows he knows. And they just don't talk about what they know. But I did have one or two things lying around, so…
The small, tidy apartment was full of half-packed boxes and empty garbage bags. It looked like moving day, Doumeki mused. Only, nobody was moving in or out.
"Shizuka-sama?" The zashiki-warashi, still as beautiful and young as a girl some seventy years on from their first meeting, came to kneel respectfully at his feet. "Shizuka-sama," she gathered his hands (wrinkled from age, beginning to twist from arthritis) into hers (smooth and unlined and graceful still). "You can come to my mountain and live," she told him.
"Lucy," he sighed out the name that he and Watanuki had given her (her real name was not for mortals, not ever for mortals…but she'd given it to Watanuki, whispered it to him as a parting gift, so that he could find her in the great vastness of the hereafter). "This is our home. My home."
Her brown eyes filled with worry, Lucy stood. "But…you're sorrow…"
"It's time," he sighed again. "It's time to go through his things. It's been a year." He chuckled at Lucy's frown. "For mortals, especially mortals my age, that's a long time."
"If you say so," she nodded hard, her hair swinging with the motion. "I found more of Kimihiro-sama's papers. Did you…?" she trailed off, holding out a sheaf of papers that was beginning to yellow at the edges.
Doumeki took them saying, "I suppose I should. He kept everything 'just in case'. He swore he had a system and…" he broke off on a sharp intake of breath that had Lucy's hand at his forehead in an instant.
"What is it? What's wrong, Shizuka-sama?" She checked his pulse.
"Nothing." He started to laugh and, when she rocked back, handed her the paper he'd found, folded into a small square, tucked into the middle of the pile.
She read it quickly, smile curving her mouth. "When did you write this?" she asked.
"Recognized the handwriting right off, did you?" Doumeki asked, chuckling. "High school," he answered, waving her off and taking the paper back. "Our homeroom teachers handed out the forms for some reason and then posted them later. He swore up and down that he didn't have a thing to do with 'that list' disappearing," he mimed quotation marks.
"Oh." Lucy looked at him for a moment. Then, "He stole your list."
"Yes. Yes, he did." He touched the paper, tracing the ink faded into near illegibility. "And he kept it."
"What are you going to do with it now?" Lucy asked quietly.
Doumeki stroked his fingers over the lines of Watanuki's name. "When we're done here," he said, "We'll take it to his grave and I'll give it back to him."
And, finally, this untitled fic is not going to have a porny sequel even though they obviously just made it on the kitchen floor. Too bad! My porn-fu is being saved for other things right now. Forladydarkmoon.
"So…" Watanuki pillows his head on a handy colander and looks at him.
Doumeki pulls several pot holders and an oven mitt over himself and looks back. "So?" he repeats warily. Watanuki is beaming at him in a very disconcerting way.
"Slowly, huh?" Watanuki's beam increases dangerously. "How slowly?"
"As slowly as seemed right," he answers, trying to dodge Watanuki's verbal (and invisible) darts.
"Every time you asked me if I wanted to quote 'do something' end quote, it was always for four days later."
"Was it?" he 's proud of the fact that he sounds cool and noncommittal, despite his internal flailings.
"Every time," Watanuki confirms with a smirk. "And four days after that, you ask me out again."
"Hm."
"And," Watanuki continues on gleefully, "whenever you kissed me first, it always lasted exactly five seconds before you'd pull away and look at me."
Doumeki pulled a handful of spoons out from under his back, neatly avoiding Watanuki's eyes as he asks, "You were timing that?"
Watanuki huffs flinging a package of frozen (rapidly defrosting) haddock at the sink. "Not all of them, and not all the time. It was more like…noticing. Like how I noticed that if I kissed you first you didn't try to pull back until I took my tongue out of your mouth."
Aware that he really didn't have much wiggle room, Doumeki made another 'hmm'ing noise. "I have manners," he decides on at last.
That actually draws a laugh out of Watanuki, who shifts and comes up with silver platter. "I bet you actually timed things and set up rules and stuff."
Doumeki squirms, making a set of napkin rings roll across the floor. "Everything has rules. Even if those rules are unconscious and unspoken."
Watanuki sits up, the glow of the lit burner (and one of them should shut that off now, Doumeki thinks distantly) making him gold in the darkness of the apartment. His smile is slow and calculating. "Tell you what," he says, crooking a finger at Doumeki, who sits up to obey the summons immediately. "Let's toss out your rules and play by mine."
He agrees, of course. Watanuki's rules are simpler and faster anyway.
Requested by
unpunished, this is the sequel to 'A Drink, A Bath, and Bed' (the first of my 3measures fics). This fic could actually go places, but it'd be huge because of the slow progression they're in.Couch?
"No way." Watanuki folded his arms.
Doumeki stifled an internal sigh. "It's not blue. It's not beige. It's the right size. It's affordable. They deliver for free. And it's not cursed," he pointed out reasonably.
Watanuki switched his glare from the offending piece of furniture to Doumeki. "I'm not getting a love seat with you."
"It's a couch," Doumeki argued flicking a glance at the sales girl who'd called their couch a love seat.
Watanuki pointed at the girl. "Love seat!"
The sales girl turned a hopeful smile on Doumeki. "Would you two like to see something else?"
Watanuki made an inarticulate sound of rage. "Quit flirting with him," he told her, pointing an accusing finger at Doumeki. "He's…"
"Moving in with you," Doumeki cut him off smoothly.
"Oh," said the shop girl, looking disappointed.
"DOUMEKI!" Watanuki flared up, "YOU DON'T NEED TO TELL PEOPLE THAT!" He wheeled around and stomped off, the little bell over the shop door tinkling merrily as the door wrenched open and then slammed closed behind him.
The girl looked out the store window at the fuming, stomping Watanuki and then back up at Doumeki. "So…he's your boyfriend?"
Only in the sense that I want to strip him naked and pin him to his only comfortable piece of furniture, Doumeki thought calmly. He pointed to the love seat. "Can I just buy the couch?" he asked.
He came home with a receipt which he stuck on the fridge with a magnet. "I got the couch," he told Watanuki.
Watanuki, stirring some sort of white sauce, rolled his eyes at him. "I'm not sitting on that thing," he said.
"Well," Doumeki said, trying to make peace and not stare at the way the fine skin of Watanuki's wrist moved over the sharp bones of his wrist as he stirred. "You don't have to; it's mostly for our guests."
Snorting, Watanuki set down his spoon. "Until you showed up, I didn't have to worry about having guests." He drained the pasta and Doumeki automatically went to set the table. He detoured briefly to the stereo to put on music when the neighbors started up for the night.
Watanuki was staring at him when he came back. "What?" he asked, reaching for the serving bowls.
"Don't act like you live here!" Watanuki said, not letting go of the bowls.
"I do live here," Doumeki said patiently.
"That's a technicality," Watanuki protested, striding to the table. Doumeki watched his back and his too-forceful movements. "It's your first night and that's…you don't know how I do things around here!"
"Okay," Doumeki nodded even though he knew Watanuki couldn't see him. "Why don't you show me? So that I know," he continued. Even as he said it, he could see Watanuki's shoulders relaxing out of their tense set. So he didn't add the rest of what he'd been thinking. You show me your way, I'll show you mine, and we'll find a way to do things together.
It could wait.
This one was requested by
arashia and is the sequel to my first-ever Doumeki/Watanuki fic, 'It's as easy as…'. This fic just…to me it ended where it ended. Watanuki knows. Doumeki knows Watanuki knows. Watanuki is pretty sure that Doumeki knows he knows. And they just don't talk about what they know. But I did have one or two things lying around, so…The small, tidy apartment was full of half-packed boxes and empty garbage bags. It looked like moving day, Doumeki mused. Only, nobody was moving in or out.
"Shizuka-sama?" The zashiki-warashi, still as beautiful and young as a girl some seventy years on from their first meeting, came to kneel respectfully at his feet. "Shizuka-sama," she gathered his hands (wrinkled from age, beginning to twist from arthritis) into hers (smooth and unlined and graceful still). "You can come to my mountain and live," she told him.
"Lucy," he sighed out the name that he and Watanuki had given her (her real name was not for mortals, not ever for mortals…but she'd given it to Watanuki, whispered it to him as a parting gift, so that he could find her in the great vastness of the hereafter). "This is our home. My home."
Her brown eyes filled with worry, Lucy stood. "But…you're sorrow…"
"It's time," he sighed again. "It's time to go through his things. It's been a year." He chuckled at Lucy's frown. "For mortals, especially mortals my age, that's a long time."
"If you say so," she nodded hard, her hair swinging with the motion. "I found more of Kimihiro-sama's papers. Did you…?" she trailed off, holding out a sheaf of papers that was beginning to yellow at the edges.
Doumeki took them saying, "I suppose I should. He kept everything 'just in case'. He swore he had a system and…" he broke off on a sharp intake of breath that had Lucy's hand at his forehead in an instant.
"What is it? What's wrong, Shizuka-sama?" She checked his pulse.
"Nothing." He started to laugh and, when she rocked back, handed her the paper he'd found, folded into a small square, tucked into the middle of the pile.
She read it quickly, smile curving her mouth. "When did you write this?" she asked.
"Recognized the handwriting right off, did you?" Doumeki asked, chuckling. "High school," he answered, waving her off and taking the paper back. "Our homeroom teachers handed out the forms for some reason and then posted them later. He swore up and down that he didn't have a thing to do with 'that list' disappearing," he mimed quotation marks.
"Oh." Lucy looked at him for a moment. Then, "He stole your list."
"Yes. Yes, he did." He touched the paper, tracing the ink faded into near illegibility. "And he kept it."
"What are you going to do with it now?" Lucy asked quietly.
Doumeki stroked his fingers over the lines of Watanuki's name. "When we're done here," he said, "We'll take it to his grave and I'll give it back to him."
And, finally, this untitled fic is not going to have a porny sequel even though they obviously just made it on the kitchen floor. Too bad! My porn-fu is being saved for other things right now. For
ladydarkmoon."So…" Watanuki pillows his head on a handy colander and looks at him.
Doumeki pulls several pot holders and an oven mitt over himself and looks back. "So?" he repeats warily. Watanuki is beaming at him in a very disconcerting way.
"Slowly, huh?" Watanuki's beam increases dangerously. "How slowly?"
"As slowly as seemed right," he answers, trying to dodge Watanuki's verbal (and invisible) darts.
"Every time you asked me if I wanted to quote 'do something' end quote, it was always for four days later."
"Was it?" he 's proud of the fact that he sounds cool and noncommittal, despite his internal flailings.
"Every time," Watanuki confirms with a smirk. "And four days after that, you ask me out again."
"Hm."
"And," Watanuki continues on gleefully, "whenever you kissed me first, it always lasted exactly five seconds before you'd pull away and look at me."
Doumeki pulled a handful of spoons out from under his back, neatly avoiding Watanuki's eyes as he asks, "You were timing that?"
Watanuki huffs flinging a package of frozen (rapidly defrosting) haddock at the sink. "Not all of them, and not all the time. It was more like…noticing. Like how I noticed that if I kissed you first you didn't try to pull back until I took my tongue out of your mouth."
Aware that he really didn't have much wiggle room, Doumeki made another 'hmm'ing noise. "I have manners," he decides on at last.
That actually draws a laugh out of Watanuki, who shifts and comes up with silver platter. "I bet you actually timed things and set up rules and stuff."
Doumeki squirms, making a set of napkin rings roll across the floor. "Everything has rules. Even if those rules are unconscious and unspoken."
Watanuki sits up, the glow of the lit burner (and one of them should shut that off now, Doumeki thinks distantly) making him gold in the darkness of the apartment. His smile is slow and calculating. "Tell you what," he says, crooking a finger at Doumeki, who sits up to obey the summons immediately. "Let's toss out your rules and play by mine."
He agrees, of course. Watanuki's rules are simpler and faster anyway.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-15 11:27 pm (UTC)Love your stuff, though I know it is from years ago. I'm glad you've left most of it up!!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-16 01:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-16 03:12 pm (UTC)Let me know if you have any holic stuff tucked away in places other than your LJ and thanks for responding! Your stuff is my favourite in the fandom thus far. I've been sharing it with the friends who have, like me, just discovered xxxholic.
If you have the time and inclination, recs would be welcome - some fandoms seem to have better fic than others and this one is a bit limp so far in that regard - your own work notwithstanding, obviously.