Fandom: [K]
Characters: Yata Misaki, Fushimi Saruhiko
Genre: Domestic, Romance (?)
Rating: T
Summary: Misaki is going out in a sunny day. Saruhiko doesn't want him to show too much skin, and insists he takes more clothes with him.
Disclaimer: I don't own [K]; such is property of GoRA and GoHands. Cover image belongs to 浅井西/pixiv id=407664.
A/N: I, indeed, am a sucker for some fluffy times... _(:3 _l /_)_
"You're going out?" Even though his eyes were drawn to the book his fingers held, Saruhiko recognized the skater's impatient footsteps from his every day morning ritual, especially when he could pretty much see him from the couch.
The vanguard brought one knee down to adjust his footwear as he threw a deathly glare at his cohabitant. "Some people don't have days off like you."
"No, actually, you do have. And that's every day, remember?" Long eyelashes fluttered down as a smirk tainted his lips, because who would consider patrolling the streets in the name of HOMRA a proper job? Not Saruhiko, that was for sure.
"Tch, shut up."
"And… you're going out like that?"
"So what? It's not cold."
"Yes, it is, Misaki."
"Tch, annoying. It's not."
Ah, spring. The pollen. The heat. The Sun—although it always stayed the same, it was unbearable, too. And as if he hadn't enough with a certain hot-headed vanguard, Saruhiko had to deal with such despicable weather variations and all the complications they eventually led to.
He wasn't one to show off too much, and heated environments weren't something he was particularly fond of, but Misaki, ah, Misaki. He sometimes thought Misaki was too ingenuous to realize how much was too much. Of course, there was always the possibility that such thoughts wouldn't wander around the skater's mind. And, of course, in Saruhiko's eyes, even the slightest glimpse of skin that didn't belong to his forearms or knees wasenough.
Such as the tank top he insisted on wearing without anything else above. The sun-kissed muscles of his shoulders were something he wasn't going to deny it looked good, eventually, only if he was there to appreciate the moment tanned skin turned into gold in person.
"Misaki."
"Would'ya stop calling me that? I know you're talkin' to me, I'm right here."
By the time he finished spitting his words out, the swordsman had grabbed one of Misaki's sweaters that hung on the back of the couch, holding it in front of its owner. "Heh, I'll stop if you take this with you. Just because spring is coming doesn't mean you have to go out like that, Misaki."
"Hell no, it's hot."
"It's cotton. You're going to take your toy—ah, skateboard with you, aren't you? It'd absorb your sweat instead of letting it freeze in your skin."
"… How do you know that?"
He gave a shrug. "Common knowledge."
"Yeah, cool… but no."
"You don't want to catch a cold, do you?" The ginger had wrapped his fingers around the door handle, ready to depart. Ah, if that didn't make him freeze on his spot. "You know what would happen if you do, don't you? And it's no fun staying in bed. All. Day. Right? Mi~sa~ki~? Not that I'm complaining, really. Better than having you running around the house like a dog."
"Tch, dammit. Gimme that. Shit." He immediately turned back and snatched the garment from Saruhiko's hands, and quickly put it on. "Fuckin' sweater and fuckin' cotton… Happy now?"
"Very." A glimpse of a smirk could be seen in the swordsman's visage as the vanguard turned around to unlock the door.
"I'm going now."
"Already?"
"Huh?"
No more words were given as Saruhiko strolled over to the ginger, who had turned his head to face him. Placing two fingers below the skater's chin to tilt his head up, Saruhiko brushed his lips against Misaki's slightly parted ones in a kiss. He allowed a smile to play on his lips before pulling away, relishing the faint blush dusting over the ginger's cheeks. "Come back soon."
"Huh… yeah…"
And people said Fushimi Saruhiko wasn't a considerate individual, in his own way.
Thanks for reading~