Ayame/Hatori slash. Very OOC. Fluff, lemon, lemon, lemon! Quite an Acid!fic. Read at your own risk. I think if this actually happened in Furuba, the universe would have actually folded onto its self. Read safe – swallow any food or liquid that may be in your mouth at this time, and put down any pointy objects.
Rated M for later chapters, and for the maiming of Fruits Basket's fandom.
Disclaimer – I do not own Fruits Basket, although I wish I did. Oh, the things I'd do with those characters… shudde
Unexpected Kink
"Uggh, disgusting. Disgusting dirty dishes! It was Rit-chan's turn tonight. That whiney bastard is so irresponsible…He dresses like a girl, maybe I should just do him a favourite and cut it off."
It was late evening at the main house, and for the second day in a row, Hatori was entrusted with the job of cleaning up the after dinner mess. He loathed it more than anything else in the world, but it wasn't too bad when he remembered to bring a pair of his trusty latex gloves.
The man froze. Oh, surely it was the fumes from the industrial strength dish soap that causead him to hallucinate such awful music, As his scrubbing on the dish in his hand slowed, the sound got louder and more distinct. Yes, that was indeed horrible, old porno music. He clearly heard the "bow-chicka-wow-wow" that floated through the air.
"What the fucking hell…" Hatori thought, as he suddenly realized that yes, his day could get worse. Suddenly his train of thought changed. Maybe he wasn't going crazy… Maybe he was just having a seizure, or a stroke. Now he could smell burning candles. Cinnamon candles, his favourite scent. "No, no stroke… I've finally gone crazy." Hatori went back to scrubbing the germ laden dishes.
"It's alright, Tori. I can smell the candles, too. And hear the music," a silky voice hissed from the doorway. Hatori turned around to face the snake; Ayame Sohma. He stood, leaning against the doorway with the stereo remote in his left hand. Ayame smirked as he turned the volume of the music up a little bit louder. He then casually tossed the remote over his shoulder, and Hatori barely heard it thunk on the carpet over the sound of the horrible music.
Aaya sure knew how to make Hatori's pants magically tighter in a matter of seconds. Ayame wore a surgical mask, and what looked like brand new leather pants. On his chest and torso he wore nothing but straps, all connected by a metal ring in the center of his upper body. The snake glided forward, toward him. Hatori buried his face in the crook of the other man's neck, and felt Ayame slither his arms around his own waist. He planted both of his hands firmly on Aaya's buttocks, and discovered that these were no ordinary leather pants. These were assless chaps.
- Continued in Chapter 2
A/N. Yeah, this was horrible. I apologize to the world. R&R please?