fic: Dryer Sheets
Jun. 19th, 2011 09:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisMore off the unposted queue.
Title: Dryer Sheets
Series: Fire Emblem 10
Character/pairing: Ike/Soren
Rating: PG
Word count: 300
Author's note: Modern AU. Inspired by a prompt on a meme for an entirely different fandom. For Ammy, in the old domestic meme because the other thing I was writing her didn't want to work out.
Soren comes in weary from work only to find Ike quite literally covered in laundry. Ike is watching the game, drinking from a bottle of beer. There is a towel sitting on top of his head, and a pile of jeans on his lap. A pair of boxers hands from his shoulder, while one of Soren's shirts is on his chest.
"That's not how you fold laundry, Ike," he says.
"Yeah," Ike says. "It's warm."
"The clothes will wrinkle, which means we'll have to press them all over again. Which means we'll have wasted money—"
"I know. But it's comfortable," Ike says.
There's really no arguing with Ike, not with this logic. Not that he would waste time bickering about laundry anyways. He kicks off his sneakers and steps closer. Ike moves the pile of clothes and pats the seat beside him. Soren sighs, and acquiesces, sitting down beside him. Ike piles the clothes and towels on top of them both until they're blanketed in warmth.
"See, now is that so bad?" Ike asks.
"It's coming out of your paycheck," Soren murmurs.
"I know," Ike says. "It's still worth it."
"Hmm," Soren says. He lays his head on Ike's shoulder and closes his eyes.
It's been a long day.
Title: Dryer Sheets
Series: Fire Emblem 10
Character/pairing: Ike/Soren
Rating: PG
Word count: 300
Author's note: Modern AU. Inspired by a prompt on a meme for an entirely different fandom. For Ammy, in the old domestic meme because the other thing I was writing her didn't want to work out.
Soren comes in weary from work only to find Ike quite literally covered in laundry. Ike is watching the game, drinking from a bottle of beer. There is a towel sitting on top of his head, and a pile of jeans on his lap. A pair of boxers hands from his shoulder, while one of Soren's shirts is on his chest.
"That's not how you fold laundry, Ike," he says.
"Yeah," Ike says. "It's warm."
"The clothes will wrinkle, which means we'll have to press them all over again. Which means we'll have wasted money—"
"I know. But it's comfortable," Ike says.
There's really no arguing with Ike, not with this logic. Not that he would waste time bickering about laundry anyways. He kicks off his sneakers and steps closer. Ike moves the pile of clothes and pats the seat beside him. Soren sighs, and acquiesces, sitting down beside him. Ike piles the clothes and towels on top of them both until they're blanketed in warmth.
"See, now is that so bad?" Ike asks.
"It's coming out of your paycheck," Soren murmurs.
"I know," Ike says. "It's still worth it."
"Hmm," Soren says. He lays his head on Ike's shoulder and closes his eyes.
It's been a long day.
