I hope you all promise not to laugh at me because of where I got the idea for this. John made me watch a video of Ike and Marth dancing to Caramelldansen, and while Marth was totally enjoying himself, Ike was just all, "Meh." I thought that if Ike ever felt the need to dance, he could ask Pretty Boy for dancing lessons. So yeah...this is pretty much a two-chapter crackfic. IkexPit, if it isn't already obvious...and just for the purpose of Marth having a dance partner, Roy will also be around...especially because I love the MarthxRoy pairing.

I wrote most of this during class or at work when I was on break. If I ever get around to editing it, I'll have a better version posted. Yup.

And...for some reason, Pit always struck me as the neat-freak of the couple. Ha.

Disclaimer: Pit, Ike, Marth all belong to Nintendo. Even if my car is named Pit Icarus. xD

--

"You know…you look really silly with that bandana," the Crimean said, glancing upon his roommate in amusement. At the beginning of every month, the angel decided to turn housewife and completely clean and scrub and polish their shared room until it was spic-n-span. What would a tidying housewife be without a bandana? Of course Ike took the pleasure in making fun of it.

"Hush up," Pit commanded as he sprayed the sliding door to the balcony with glass cleaner, wiping it with all his might until it squeaked with a streak-free shine. Smiling in satisfaction, he set the rag and spray bottle aside and took at the seat at the foot of his bed. His cerulean eyes gazed around the room as he admired his hard work; all the furniture had been polished to perfection, all the glass was so clean, he could barely distinguish it from air. "I'm ready for a break," he said, his voice strained as he stretched his arms straight up, arching his back with a groan.

"Me too," Ike added, folding his arms behind his head as a makeshift pillow. He hadn't moved from lounging on his bed since Pit began his cleaning escapade.

"But you haven't even done anything!" the angel whined…and with good reason. "I'm the one that's been doing all the work!"

"Watching you clean is extremely taxing," the bluenette retorted, trying to stifle a yawn. His gesture of sleepiness turned into a sudden sputter as a dirty sock flew out of nowhere, aimed for his face and hitting him square in the mouth. He spat in disgust and wiped his lips, shooting an angry glare in Pit's general direction. "What the hell was that for?!"

"Just because you live like a slob doesn't mean you can litter my side of the room with your junk," the brunette said crossly, picking up the rest of Ike's random belongings that lay strewn across the floor, most of it being clothing that needed washing. "Everything needs to be off the floor so I can vacuum."

"Jeez, mom, do I need to make my bed, too?" Ike questioned, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He crossed one leg over the other, still lying on his bed.

"That would be nice if you did," Pit replied, ignoring the Crimean's cynical tone completely.

"Pfft," the bluenette scoffed, shifting a bit on his bed. He watched as the angel gathered every clothing article he could into his arm without falling over. An expression of horror befell Ike's face as the ball of dirty laundry slowly approached him. "…Pit?"

As if on cue, the brunette dropped the clothe atop Ike's bed in a heap. He glared at the Crimean like a wife would glower at her husband for being a lazy prick. "Laundry duty is yours. Get to it," he ordered, his voice unwavering, his bright blue eyes hardened and unyielding.

Ike couldn't decide if it was Pit's stern tone or the fact that he was, well, actually being stern that frightened him more. Nevertheless, he was in no position to argue. Muttering a few choice words under his breath, the bluenette began the chore of sorting the pile of laundry on his bed.

Pit smiled, happy to see Ike taking part in caring for their room. While his roommate was busy with his assignment, the angel skipped over to the door, yanking it open enough to pull the vacuum into the room from the hall. For this particular cleaning method, he was sure glad he had wings; that way, he could fly as he swept and prevent his icky footprints from soiling the vacuumed floor.

The Crimean nearly jumped out of his skin as Pit switched on the vacuum. He glanced up from his annoying chore, a confused look on his face. Pit was…flying. "What the…?" Ike wondered aloud, unable to even hear himself. With a grunt, he set back to work on sorting the clothes, making sure that he didn't drop anything on the floor…lest he wanted to face Pit's wrath.

Yikes.

At least the loud roar of the vacuum has stopped.

Hearing the angel let out an enormous sigh as he flopped himself onto his bed, Ike took this as a hint that Operation: Hardcore Cleaning was finally finished. He dropped the last sock atop its designated pile as he swung his legs over the edge of his bed. "Hey, Pit," he said, getting up off his lazy butt for the first time that day, "the laundry's sorted. You can go do it now."

…

Not receiving an immediate response, the Crimean strode over to the angel's bed where he lay sprawled out atop the barely-wrinkled covers. He took a knee at Pit's bedside, poking his shoulder a few times. "Pit? You awake?"

"Laundry is your job today. I told you that already," Pit replied, not moving a muscle. He didn't even bother to open his eyes. "Now go do it."

Ike released a heavy sigh, hunching his shoulders. "Fine," he said, his bottom lip protruding in a pout. He seized a few quarters from Pit's nightstand--operating the laundry facilities cost money, after all--and shoved them into his pocket. Grabbing the smallest pile of clothes from his bed, he left the room and headed down the hall to the laundry lounge, leaving Pit alone to rest from his long day of cleaning.

--

After a few minutes of struggling with the door knob, Ike stumbled into the room, careful not to drop any piece of now-clean clothing. He plopped the laundry onto his bed--which, in his absence, had been made--and looked to Pit's bed, expecting to see the angel asleep.

The only problem? Pit was nowhere to be found.

The room was still in tip-top shape as it had been before he left, which the bluenette thought was definitely a good sign. He noticed that the sliding glass door at the foot of the angel's bed was cracked ajar, and…come to think of it, didn't a radio used to sit on Pit's dresser?

Coming to a simple conclusion regarding his roommate's whereabouts, the Crimean decided to step outside onto the balcony. There, he found exactly what went missing..

Some strange song he had never heard before--it sounded like overly-cute jibberish--came from the speakers of the little boom box.

Pit was…also dancing.

Cocking a brow, Ike leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed. "Pit, what are you doing?"

The angel's grooving ceased, for he was caught off guard by the swordsman's sudden presence behind him. He turned to face Ike, and immediately, his face lit up, complete with the biggest, brightest grin Ike had ever seen to date. "Ike!" Pit exclaimed, closing the distance between himself and his roommate with an excited hop. He grabbed the bluenette's arm and yanked it a bit. "Dance with me!"

"What…?" Ike inquired, tearing his arm away from the winged boy's grasp. "No, I'm not dancing with you."

"Why not?" the brunette asked, tilting his head to the side. His smile faded, but only slightly. "It's fun!"

"Dancing is stupid, and that song is annoying," the Crimean muttered, turning his head away. In all reality…he thought himself to be a terrible dancer, and thus never actually found it appropriate to make a fool of himself. Also…he had never even heard the song in question before, yet here he was passing judgment on it. He instantly regretted saying what he did, though.

Pit's face fell; he looked devastatingly crestfallen. The sad shadows in his cerulean irises made Ike wish he would have shoved his foot into his mouth. "A-all right, then," the angel said, his tone quiet and depressed. He headed over to his little radio and turned it off, picking it up and hugging it close. "I'll just…go somewhere else, then…" The brunette made his way past Ike, refusing to even look at the swordsman as he stepped through the door that was left wide open, slowly and almost silently closing it.

The Crimean merely stood alone out on the balcony, wanting to send a drill through his temples.

"Damn it," he cursed, sliding down the wall to a sit, his right knee bent, his left leg completely straight. He didn't mean to hurt Pit's feelings…not in the slightest. He felt like such an ass, especially because the angel did all the cleaning. What did he do? Lie around on his butt all day. Then he just had to go ruin all the fun just because he had no confidence in his dancing abilities…or rather, lack thereof.

Maybe it was time to seek out some dancing lessons…and Ike knew the perfect person to ask.

--

I'll have the next chapter up once I get around to writing it. Hope this isn't too craptastic so far. ..

Until next time,
Chibi