Summary: Donuts. And cinnamon buns. Doumeki likes both. R&R (please).
On the Musings of Doumeki Shizuka
Doumeki sat in the shade under gently sloping branches of the blossoming cherry tree. Leaning back to feel the cool bark against his back, Doumeki mused about his life. Raised as a temple brat, Doumeki has always been polite, slightly aloof, and as cool as a cucumber. He went through life like it was a duty, a privileged duty, but a duty all the same. Truthfully, the world and its accompanying reality had always bored him somewhat.
But then one day, the world, as if it was sorry for being so boring, had shown him his personal eighth Wonder of the World, his very own Watanuki Kimihiro. And suddenly, it was as if Doumeki had been thrown into a different world. Life was interesting now, full of color and excitement. Sometimes a little too much excitement, Doumeki thought, as he remembered how last week's psycho tried to use the demon-bait seer as bait to catch some demon fish that swallowed his father.
A flash of movement and noise brought him out of his musings and Doumeki turned his head to view his Watanuki...no, Kimihiro now, dancing about near the pond at the base of the hill, where he, Kunogi, Yuuko, and the others invited to the party had migrated from their original spot under the cherry blossom tree, leaving Doumeki to his thoughts.
Kimihiro was flailing his arms around, jumping up and down, and generally being very Watanuki Kimihiro-like to the amusement of everyone watching. Doumeki smiled as Mugetsu squirmed out from underneath Kimihiro's collar.
It was funny how ticklish he could be.
Doumeki smirked. Oh, he knew so very well how ticklish Kimihiro could be. Oh so very well.
Kunogi was giggling now, and Yuuko was smirking rays of smugness at Kimihiro. Who was currently flailing around. Which, by itself, wouldn't be surprising, if not for the fact that the flailing was taking place in the pond. Doumeki quirked an eyebrow. He wondered what had happened while he was off in wonderland, thinking things Kimihiro would not approve of, the silly Victorian-minded seer.
Kimihiro raked his long, pale fingers through his messy, and now wet, locks of hair, raking them back off his forehead. Doumeki's eyes were caught on those fingers. He could dream about those fingers all day. Kimihiro had the best hands, with their delicate pianist-like fingers. Those fingers could work magic, making the best, most delicious, mind-blowingly fantastic, hot, steamy, sticky...
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...Cinnamon buns.
Doumeki smirked. If you know what I mean. He chuckled at his own wit.
Suddenly, two blue-as-the-sky sapphires dropped in front of Doumeki's line of sight.
"Hey moron, what are you laughing about?" Kimihiro asked, grabbing Doumeki's hands and dragging him upright and downhill where the rest of the party waited. "And what are you doing, sitting up here all alone. This is your engagement party, too."
"Yes," Doumeki said, and smiled down at their joined hands, and the glittering band of gold sitting on Kimihiro's left ring finger. "Yes it is."
I guess it's true you can't resist a plot bunny. I've had this one bouncing around my skull like a kid on 30 gallons of Ritalin-flavored icecream for ages now. I had'nt planned on writing it, but it just...plopped out. I think my biology class blew a hole in my brain.
The story kinda flops around like a rubber chicken on a trampoline. What can I say? Doumeki has a short attention span.
Oh, and sorry for the (back?)slashes, but it didn't seem like the right effect without the space...
Review!