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chineseinkDrabble Request #5
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0sweet_tart0
Fandom: Here is Greenwood
Pairing: Shinobu x Mitsuru
Rating: PG
Line:
“Mitsuru-senpai?”
“Yes?”
“Do blondes really have more fun? Can I borrow your toothpaste?”
Something Borrowed
505 words
“Mitsuru-senpai?”
“Yes?”
“Can I borrow your toothpaste?”
--
Two days later, Mitsuru shut the door behind him and flopped gracelessly onto Shinobu’s bed. “Damn Shun,” he complained, spread-eagled and staring up at the underside of his own bunk. “He won’t return my toothpaste.”
Shinobu watched him from his seat at his desk. “You could always buy more,” he pointed out mildly.
Mitsuru was positive he’d detected that irritatingly familiar quiet amusement in Shinobu’s tone. “It’s the principle of the thing,” he explained, twisting on the bed so he could see Shinobu’s face, albeit sideways. “I can’t have underclassmen going around thinking they can take things from their senpai any time they want.”
“That’s a right reserved for you alone?’
A definite smile now. Mitsuru’s eyes traced the gentle curve of those lips. “Of course,” he replied, flashing his own grin. His hands shifted restlessly over Shinobu’s sheets, rumpling them, and over his pajama top, plucking the fabric from his skin. “Besides,” he added, annoyed, “it was my favorite brand.”
Shinobu leaned his back against the edge of the desk, raising an eyebrow.
Suddenly glad that his roommate hadn’t ignored him in favor of returning to his homework, Mitsuru said, to fill the expectant silence, “It was mint-flavored!” He scowled and finally tucked his hands behind his head. “Underclassmen don’t deserve such luxuries.”
For a moment, their room was silent, and then there was a shift and Mitsuru saw Shinobu turn back toward the desk out of the corner of his eye.
“You can use mine until you get yours back,” he said noncommittally.
Ways to extract his toothpaste from Shun’s surprisingly fierce grip (he had to make sure his teeth were as well taken care of as his hair, the little idiot had protested, and couldn’t afford both his fancy shampoo and nice toothpaste) danced away in Mitsuru’s head. He sat up and grinned. “I have been.”
Shinobu never paused in his diligent essay composition, hand moving surely across paper, but Mitsuru could almost feel the atmosphere of the room change with his roommate’s unseen smile. “I thought you tasted different.”
Rising from the bed, still grinning, Mitsuru padded barefoot to Shinobu. The silver-haired boy didn’t stop writing until Mitsuru brought his head down beside his, breath less than a whisper away from soft skin. Then Shinobu turned his head, at last, and kissed the blonde.
When he pulled back, he just said, “Let me know if Shun takes anything else from you.”
“Nah, no worries.” Mitsuru dismissed the subject and slid his hand under Shinobu’s shirt. “I can take care of it.” He winked. “I’ll just borrow from you.”
--
A week later, Mitsuru was approached by a distressed looking Shun.
“Mitsuru-senpai?”
“Yes?”
“Can I borrow one of your shirts? Please, senpai, it’s for Suka-chan! He needs an oversized shirt to dress—“
Mitsuru tuned out the rest of the babbled explanation. “Just this once,” he cut in, waiting for Shun’s happy exclamation and ensuing dash into room 211 before grinning wickedly to himself.
--
Posted: 02.15.2005
--
Disclaimer: I wish passionately I owned Greenwood, but Nasu Yukie-sensei is a good second choice. ^_^.
Notes: First HiG fic ever. v_v;;
For:
0sweet_tart0Fandom: Here is Greenwood
Pairing: Shinobu x Mitsuru
Rating: PG
Line:
“Mitsuru-senpai?”
“Yes?”
“
Something Borrowed
505 words
“Mitsuru-senpai?”
“Yes?”
“Can I borrow your toothpaste?”
--
Two days later, Mitsuru shut the door behind him and flopped gracelessly onto Shinobu’s bed. “Damn Shun,” he complained, spread-eagled and staring up at the underside of his own bunk. “He won’t return my toothpaste.”
Shinobu watched him from his seat at his desk. “You could always buy more,” he pointed out mildly.
Mitsuru was positive he’d detected that irritatingly familiar quiet amusement in Shinobu’s tone. “It’s the principle of the thing,” he explained, twisting on the bed so he could see Shinobu’s face, albeit sideways. “I can’t have underclassmen going around thinking they can take things from their senpai any time they want.”
“That’s a right reserved for you alone?’
A definite smile now. Mitsuru’s eyes traced the gentle curve of those lips. “Of course,” he replied, flashing his own grin. His hands shifted restlessly over Shinobu’s sheets, rumpling them, and over his pajama top, plucking the fabric from his skin. “Besides,” he added, annoyed, “it was my favorite brand.”
Shinobu leaned his back against the edge of the desk, raising an eyebrow.
Suddenly glad that his roommate hadn’t ignored him in favor of returning to his homework, Mitsuru said, to fill the expectant silence, “It was mint-flavored!” He scowled and finally tucked his hands behind his head. “Underclassmen don’t deserve such luxuries.”
For a moment, their room was silent, and then there was a shift and Mitsuru saw Shinobu turn back toward the desk out of the corner of his eye.
“You can use mine until you get yours back,” he said noncommittally.
Ways to extract his toothpaste from Shun’s surprisingly fierce grip (he had to make sure his teeth were as well taken care of as his hair, the little idiot had protested, and couldn’t afford both his fancy shampoo and nice toothpaste) danced away in Mitsuru’s head. He sat up and grinned. “I have been.”
Shinobu never paused in his diligent essay composition, hand moving surely across paper, but Mitsuru could almost feel the atmosphere of the room change with his roommate’s unseen smile. “I thought you tasted different.”
Rising from the bed, still grinning, Mitsuru padded barefoot to Shinobu. The silver-haired boy didn’t stop writing until Mitsuru brought his head down beside his, breath less than a whisper away from soft skin. Then Shinobu turned his head, at last, and kissed the blonde.
When he pulled back, he just said, “Let me know if Shun takes anything else from you.”
“Nah, no worries.” Mitsuru dismissed the subject and slid his hand under Shinobu’s shirt. “I can take care of it.” He winked. “I’ll just borrow from you.”
--
A week later, Mitsuru was approached by a distressed looking Shun.
“Mitsuru-senpai?”
“Yes?”
“Can I borrow one of your shirts? Please, senpai, it’s for Suka-chan! He needs an oversized shirt to dress—“
Mitsuru tuned out the rest of the babbled explanation. “Just this once,” he cut in, waiting for Shun’s happy exclamation and ensuing dash into room 211 before grinning wickedly to himself.
--
Posted: 02.15.2005
--
Disclaimer: I wish passionately I owned Greenwood, but Nasu Yukie-sensei is a good second choice. ^_^.
Notes: First HiG fic ever. v_v;;
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