Disclaimer: 'course I don't own it. You should know that by now. D and company belong to Akino Matsuri and all associated publishers, etc.

A/N: This unfortunate brainchild is the result of too much studying for plants. I hate plants. Plants need to die. So how did I memorize them? By a damn plot bunny. Bastard. P


"I don't understand why you must resort to such tacky means for erotic stimulation," D commented, eyeing the blond detective with an expression that was a cross between exasperated, disgusted, and darkly amused. There was more than a hint of smirk curving those dark lips as the kami not-so delicately plucked the pornographic magazine from his human lover's sofa. Leon sputtered, apparently still trying to convince the Chinese man, who was now sitting languidly on the couch with a painted fingernail at his mouth in a manner that should not have been so fucking arousing, that the magazine was old and had been found in a cleaning rampage. Except that D knew he'd rather die than clean, and the kami had already scoured the apartment for such material when their relationship had formalized.

"If I am truly leaving you so unsatisfied that you must resort to visual depictions to alleviate your stress, I would hope you could find something more inspiring than tasteless pictures of badly proportioned, naked human females." The Count gave a sigh, observing Leon with a piercing mismatched gaze. The detective found himself both chastised and oddly compelled as the slender Asian man stretched languorously, walking up to him with an expression that promised some sort of Freaky Ass Retribution. It was only a porn mag! And, hell, it wasn't even his! For once. 'course, that didn't explain how it'd gotten there, but…

"Plants, perhaps." Leon blinked, looking down at his Fucking Crazy lover.

"Plants?" he repeated incredulously. Plants were many things, but a fucking turn-on wasn't among them. But that only seemed to make that damn smirk on those divine lips deepen, as D sensuously wrapped his lithe arms about his lover's frame from behind, sliding those damnable nails over the exposed skin of Leon's throat, making the man shiver.

"Oh, but of course," the kami breathed softly, smirking, "Did you know that many plants have modified leaves, called tendrils, used to grasp and cling to their support?" His mouth was at the American's ear, hands roaming slowly down the man's back, enjoying the stiffening and shivers he was eliciting.

"Or roots and shoots, growing from perpetually embryonic meristematic tissue to the source of desire and need?" That lyrical voice was a deep purr, as D slid his hand forward, beneath Leon's shirt and teasingly traced a slow path from sternum to waistband. The groan he received in return deepened his smirk.

"They're responsive to light," D nibbled an ear, "and heat," he teased the throat, "and flow…" the hand at Leon's waistband dipped further, and the American decided that maybe plants were kind of sexy, when talked about like that.

"And in many cases, grow best untended." Expression devilish and leaving no mistake that this was indeed retribution, the kami withdrew from the embrace. With perfect composure, D disappeared out the door, leaving Leon in desperate need of a cold shower and unable to explain.

Fuck.


Hopefully that brought a smile to someone else's face. It did mine.

Cheers.

Autumn Ruby