Rating: T
Words: 833
Dojo is thirsty 👀
Atsushi shuffled through the papers he had spread out across the coffee table, looking for the second page of a "missing books" list he was consolidating. He didn't usually bring work home, but the documents were piling up, and he decided he'd rather take care of them in the comfort of his on-base apartment than in a darkening, empty office (taking documents out of the office wasn't strictly allowed, but he didn't really ask the Commander before just taking them with him). Unfortunately, there were a number of factors he hadn't taken into account when making the decision- well, just one factor, really. His wife.
Atsushi's eyes slid sideways for what felt like the thousandth time that evening. Iku was engrossed in a book on the other end of the couch, leaning against the armrest with her legs tucked up on the cushion as she had been for hours. They had both changed into lounge clothes after work, so she was wearing a pair of track shorts and a tank top in accordance with the weather. She was good about staying quiet and out of his way when he had work things to take care of at home, but under the circumstances, Atsushi found himself distracted anyway. His eyes tracked the slope of her calves, then up further along her endless legs, eyeing where the milky skin of her upper thighs disappeared beneath the hem of her shorts-
Dammit. Atsushi snapped his eyes back to the sheaves of paper in front of him. It was approaching summer, and bring as hot out as it was, it would be unfair of him to ask her to change her clothes. The coffee table was the best surface to work on, and he needed to focus, but it wasn't her fault he couldn't keep it down. Atsushi mentally cursed his own lasciviousness, but thoughts of lasciviousness drew his gaze right back to Iku's exposed skin.
Atsushi's attraction to Iku wasn't purely physical- she had hard lines where a non-combatant might have soft curves, and her proportions were modest- but she did have a great body. He knew from personal experience what she was like under those clothes, and it was mesmerizing. Atsushi had never thought of his preference for women in terms of anatomy, but if he wasn't a leg man before, he was now. As he followed the delicate knob of her ankle (Delicate. She would never believe him if he told her that) he admired, once again, that her legs really did go on forever. They were long and lean, cutting a striking line that took ages to reach the end of. As his eyes ended up at her thighs again, he thought about how they felt under his palms, soft skin covering strength and muscle, even as she hid her face shyly. He thought about how they felt wrapped around his waist, or resting on his shoulders on either side of his head as he-
DAMMIT. Atsushi forced himself to refocus on the papers, thoroughly agitated. Where the hell was page two?! Iku was blissfully unaware of his frequent pauses as she turned to the next page of her book. Her position leaning against the armrest left her sliding down a little, so she adjusted her posture to sit upright, the movement attracting Atsushi's gaze again. He stopped himself, exhaling forcefully in frustration. To hell with it.
He put the page he was gripping back onto the table and slid sideways to sit right next to Iku. The cushion she was sitting on jostled a little as he moved, and Iku finally tore her attention away from the book to look at Atsushi in confusion.
"Hey, Iku…" Atsushi rested a light hand on her thigh, leaning in closer. Taken off-guard by his sudden proximity, Iku could only watch as he leaned in, her heart rate suddenly picking up. She made a noise of question in the back of her throat. "What do you say we…"
The piercing noise of a doorbell jarred them both, and they flinched in unison. It took Iku a startled moment to realize who it was at their door. "Oh! That would be the takeout." Atsushi just looked at her, bewildered. "That… That we ordered? Like an hour ago?" He suddenly looked chagrined, for reasons Iku couldn't comprehend. "Er, I'll go get it."
She got up to get the door while Atsushi leaned back against the couch and sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. He had been so distracted, waffling between work and ogling Iku for the entire evening that he hadn't even remembered that she got up to order takeout an hour ago. Watching her come back with their food, grinning, he resolved that he was going to have to deal with his distraction problem tonight, one way or another. As he thought back to her expression right before the doorbell rang, he shoveled some food into his mouth to hide his smile, liking his odds.