A/n: Saturday is upon us and Watanuki is still suffering. I make it seem like the world is an unfair place…oh wait.
"I'm not going to say this again," Watanuki said, gritting his teeth, voice still a bit gravelly from having woken up mere seconds ago. "So listen carefully." He took a deep breath and his voice was strangely level when he spoke again. "Stop possessing me" but with each syllable the volume steadily rose, "and stop PUTTING ME IN DRESSES!!"
Doumeki blankly stared at Watanuki, as he relaxed on the floor.
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? THIS SHOULD BE ILLEGAL!!" Watanuki took a moment to think about what he had just said. "ACTUALLY THIS IS ILLEGAL! And I don't even want to ask where you keep getting these-these things from," Watanuki exclaimed and pointed down to the new version of lolita kink adorning him.
Amidst the rampant screaming and misplaced anger, Doumeki had come across an important realization.
From the way he sat with his hands behind him, bracing him up, he could…kind of see up Watanuki's skirt. And if he reclined his head back a bit more, he definitely be able to see up Watanuki's skirt.
Hmm. Interesting.
"I thought you said you weren't playing pranks on me, you lia-" Watanuki halted his speech when he recognized that Doumeki's line of sight was nowhere near his face.
And also…why was it so drafty in here?
He didn't know how he could have missed it, but he determined, because he was mad his anger must have been clouding his perceptions. Watanuki shifted uncomfortably, pressed his knees together and nervously passed his hands over the skirt portion of the dress in an attempt to pull it down more. When that didn't abate his embarrassment, Watanuki plopped down on his futon and straddled the sheets, since he could sit no other way in only a dress (yes, no underwear) without plenty of revealing on his part.
After about five seconds, when Doumeki determined that he could no longer see up Watanuki's skirt from this new position, he reverted back to staring him in the face, like nothing had happened.
Watanuki didn't even want to ask why his underwear was missing; he didn't even want to ask why Doumeki was staring up his skirt. He just didn't want to know, at least that way he could pretend things were normal between them, even if this situation screamed 'runthefuckaway'
This new position wasn't as revealing as the other, Doumeki concluded, but he couldn't complain, especially with Watanuki looking like some kind of innocent sweetness that boys fantasized about on a regular basis. The dress had hitched up past his knees and considering Watanuki had such long legs, it was impossible to find a lolita dress that covered all that.
The snap of a camera suddenly sounded through the room and Watanuki still splayed out on his futon, eyes now wide, found himself staring into the lens of an old box camera. It was set up on stilts and there was a black wire hanging from the back and trailing over to where Doumeki sat, the archer holding onto the end where a switch presided.
"Doumeki?" Watanuki asked, eyes glued to the camera and unsure of what to do. His answer was five more flashes fast enough to be considered as one.
"By the way, I possessed this camera too." Doumeki added as an afterthought.
