Laundry Day
By Kay
Disclaimer: ... well, I try to own Ax-chan by buying him off K.A. Applegate every so often, but other than that... ^_^;; I don't own anything. Sadness! I have to live off of orange juice! ... gladness!
Author's Notes: ... I almost never write Jake/Marco slash. Well, I never write anything that's not Ax slash, actually. ^_^;; So this is new for me! Ayi! A fluffy, cute fic that takes place in the future, while they're... um... college age? I don't know yet, kuso! Anyway... snow must be in it. Alright. Snow. ::eyes glaze over:: Snoooow...
Btw-- this is OOC. This is an Alternative Universe. Which is why I'm getting away with this! Ahahaa.
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Simple is sweet, you tell me
How I breathe on your neck and smile
I don't care how much you adore my attentions
Just let me love you, I'll stay for a while
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was one of the most difficult missions Jake had ever set out on.
He stared down impassively at the mass of tangled blue covers piled on his bed, wondering again, just what on earth it would take to move that mountain from it's place. It wasn't possible that anyone could live through that, being buried alive under the mounds of navy cotton blankets and sheets, without an airspace to breathe from. It would take a lot for a human to be able to survive without oxygen.
A faint snore was heard through the covers. Apparently all hope wasn't lost after all.
"Marco... it's almost noon..."
The only answer the tall, seriously impatient young man recieved was that of an even louder, muffled snore. Not a very encouraging response, actually. The young man's dark eyes narrowed briefly, flashing with what could either have been mischievious intent or exasperation.
"Marco," he sing songed almost wickedly. "You're going to miss the Saturday morning cartoons."
More of a reaction this time-- the lump of covers shifted, and a tiny mumble of discontent was heard. Jake smiled slightly at it, before leaning down over the bed to give the mound a quick, gentle shake, his hands enjoying the feel of the sun-heated fabric soft against his skin. The windows of the bedroom had let in sunbeams, allowing the warmth of it's gliding rays of melted gold to sink into the room, and already the temperature was rising with the summer's call.
"Marco..." he whispered one more time. "Time to get up, man."
After a brief second, the supposedly dying bundle finally shifted to the left, and moaned slightly. Jake nudged it again, patiently knowing it would just be a matter of time, before--
"Mmph... leave me alone, you freak of nature..." Tounced, messy locks of dark chocolate popped up over the blankets, followed by a drowsy, sleep-filled face that was immediatly familiar.
"It's not my fault you stay up so late," Jake retorted, grinning slightly at the amusing image his lover made first thing Saturday morning. Blinking away the cob-webs from his mind, the dark brown eyed boy was already becoming alert, his expression clearing away the tiredness shinging through.
"Ugh, you are a freak of nature. People shouldn't be up this early... illegal, I tell you..." Marco mumbled, rubbing his face absently. "Sheesh..."
"But you look so cute when you're waking up," Jake protested teasingly, reaching out to yank a lock of his lover's hair.
"Ack! Don't do that!"
"What happens if I keep doing it, huh?" Reaching out again, feeling his t-shirt stretch at the neck as he had to go farther to capture Marco's retreating head, which was quickly being covered up by a large pillow, he managed to score another yank.
"Don't do that!"
"Why not?" Jake asked, fighting a losing battle not to smirk at the whining tone muffled under the blue pillowcase. A single dark eyes peeked out from under it.
"Because there's so many better things to do than play with my hair, you idiot."
Jake paused, leaning back and nodding seriously. Finally, he was getting the results he needed to complete his mission for the day. In the play and vision of their morning, he'd almost forgotten, but... well, yeah. Certain things were necessary, he had needs like the rest of the world, and Marco was the only one who could fulfill them right then.
So... "You're right," he agreed. "There's much better stuff to do than play with your hair."
Marco's pillow quickly disappeared as it hit somewhere on the side of the bed, and in a second, the burnette was leaning on his elbow in satisfaction. gazing up with a grin. "Uh-huh? Like what?" His eyes sparkled mischieviously.
Jake made a quick bend again, leaning down to tug more gently at the young man's hair, and paused, lips against the shell-formed ear. His breathe tickled, gently blowing against Marco's delicate skin there, teasing him.
"Well..."
"Well what?" Marco closed his eyes, grinning, and waited for a kiss.
"Well, I need your help. You're the only one who can fix my problem..."
"Name it, it's yours. I have a large talent for fixing problems, I hear. In fact, I'm the best 'mechanic' in the town, if I do say so m'self. Though I might require a fee, y'know..." He lazily glanced up as Jake straightened hurridly, in an obvious rush to get the talking over with, and his "problem" solved.
"Good. Then you're just the guy I was looking for." Jake smiled slowly, letting it melt into his handsome features like wax, and leaving the same trail of warmth somewhere deep within Marco's mind. That smile... only meant for him.
"It's laundry day, and I don't know how to use the machines at the laundromat. Can you get dressed and come down with me?"
With that calmly said, Jake walked out of the bedroom.
Marco stared. Groaned, burying his slender features into the recovered pillow, and decided that his boyfriend and live-in lover would have to die.
'I hate laundry day...' ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Why can't we just buy a washer and dryer, Jake?" Marco asked for the thousandth time, staring in boredom at the laundromat's rattling washing machine. The old fossil of an appliance gave an extra shake and rattle, as if insulted.
Normally, Marco wouldn't be on such a venture. However, the olive-skinned boy was the only one of the two of them to know exactly how to use a washing machine. Years of living with his father, while Jake had a mother to do his own clothes, had taught him that. Which was the only reason he was there.
And maybe because he liked being with Jake all moments on the weekends, too.
Folding another cotton shirt, Jake shrugged. "All our money's going to college, remember?"
Marco glanced over with a "duh" look, and rolled his eyes. Draping himself over the vibrating washing machine in order to get closer to his boyfriend, who had taken the washer on the opposite row, he made sure Jake's attention was caught. Then, he said bluntly, "Jake. I love you. But you're an idiot."
"Oh brother, here it comes..." muttered the tall young man, doing his best to ignore the upcoming speech.
"This is exactly my point, Jake. Why do we have to pay for college? I mean, we did kinda save the entire planet, you know. The least someone could do is reward us. But did we get any money? Noooo. We did not. Not even a penny. Did you see any money?" Marco peered around him, shaking his dark hair, and generally mocking. "Wow. I don't see any."
"Uh-huh..." his boyfriend encouraged, examining the shirt lable tags, before shoving them in the machine's gaping mouth.
Marco continued, ignoring it. "All I'm saying is, by now I expected to have a cool car and a mansion. It doesn't even have to be Bill Gates sized. All I'm asking for is a little something. I could deal with a washer and dryer, for instance. So we didn't have to do this every few weeks." (When saying "this", he waved a hand around at the near empty laundromat, and the dull rows of machines that looked more like beige ovens, then dryers and such.)
Jake paused and glanced up with a raised eyebrow, dark eyes slightly annoyed. "You know, it'd be a lot easier to keep our clothes clean if you'd stop stealing my shirts."
"What? I don't steal your shirts, Jake."
"Marco... you steal my shirts. You're wearing one now."
The dark haired youth paused, blinking innocently, and looked down at his chest. His fingers gently ran across the dark green fabric, and small dark brown buttons, before his face flushed in realization.
"Oh... I am." The red rose in his face again, and Marco averted his eyes with a sheepish grin. "Sorry. But it is a cool shirt. On the basis that it looks better on me than it does on you, anyway, this one time doesn't count. I do not steal your shirts."
"Sure, Marco. Anything you say."
His boyfriend stuck out his tongue at him.
Jake just grinned and shook his head.
~~~~~~~~~~
The last load of clothes finally announced their cleansing over with a ding.
"Finally," Marco yelled, ignoring the stares from the other two young women in the laundromat. Jake only gave him a fond look before rolling his eyes and opening the dryer hatch to retrieve the last clothing items.
"We're gettin' out of here," Marco commanded, leaning over from his spot resting over the washing machines in boredom to pick up one of the clothing bags they brought. "And then we're going to do something fun today."
"Alright," his boyfriend agreed calmly, picking up the rest of their hamper bags. "What do you want to do?"
Pretending to consider, Marco tilts his head, narrowing his dark honey eyes in concentration. "Well..." He chewed thoughtfully on his lip, while throwing the bag over his shoulder.
Of course, while he was considering this matter heavily, Jake took the opportunity to come over and lean down to kiss his boyfriend gently. The slimmer boy's eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the sensation, even in a place as strange as the laundromat. The warmth was still the same-- the feeling of steady, firm love that he couldn't get enough of.
When he parted for air, Jake paused to give another quick impish kiss, then grinned down at his lover-- who currently was gazing up at him in amused happiness.
"How about we just go back to bed and watch TV? Laundry's hard work, I'm tired, and we deserve the break."
Marco nodded silently, grinning to himself. Jake watched his short form race for the door out to the car, and laughed to himself.
'I love laundry day...'
And, he reflected ruefully, Marco did look better in that shirt.
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... I have *no* idea what I was on when I wrote this. Eeee, laundry. XD It's so... cute and couply. Stupid Jake/Marco ideas. Why is it I obsess over Ax-chan, but still write lots of Jake/Marco? GODDAMN IT.
... eee, thanks for reading! *hugs*
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