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Dec. 12th, 2009 06:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sinful_lynxTitle: There's Nothing Like Home
Fandom: Bleach
Characters/Pairings: Hints of Byakuya/Kenpachi; Unohana, Kurotsuchi
Rating: PG
Warnings: randomness, OOCness, creeper!Kurotsuchi
Author Note: xD This was birthed from this. Therefore, I must say, the idea wasn't mine, just inspired. There are a few more and they're totally awesome. You can find those here. Anyway, that's it. I'm working, slowly, on everyone's Christmas, never fear.
Summary: Dishes r srs biz.
Kenpachi knows something's wrong. They've only been in this apartment two days and he can't seem to sit in the same room without having an ominous glare on the back of his head. It's not as if he asked for this assignment, or even that he cares a whole lot about what the fucker thinks, but he knows that if he wants this to be a tolerable stay, he has to at least keep the princess happy.
Said flower princess is sitting at the table, like always, sipping his tea, writing in his book, demeanor unnecessarily icy. Zaraki's never been good at reading reading minds. The stiff posture, the cold reception, these are all things that he's used to. He's known the sixth division captain long enough to know that's just how he is. He also knows he doesn't glare without a reason.
He growls when that head turns just enough for eyes of unfeeling slate to peer over his shoulder. "Just say it, would ya?!"
As if he's huffing and sulking, he says nothing and goes back to his book and tea.
Kurotsuchi sits in the corner, pretending to be uninterested, by Kenny knows the bastard's amused. By what, he doesn't frickin' know or really care, just that the bastard pisses him off as much as Kuchiki.
Unohana says not a word and drinks some tea before she heads out to work on her flower arranging. The four of them, forced into such a tiny space while they await further orders, is just becoming fucking unbearable.
Again those eyes seek him out and he gives up. The silent treatment isn't so much as a pain as those accusing looks, looks he just isn't dealing with. "All right, Kuchiki. What the fuck's your problem?" He demands, slamming a hand down on the table and stirring up the tea.
Byakuya closes his eyes and sips more from his cup, completely ignoring him. He's never liked being ignored.
Just as he goes to say something else (fucking Kurotsuchi's peeking around the corner like some damn creeper), the princess opens his mouth. "Must I spell it out for you? You're the one who has failed to do his job. Don't take it out on me."
"What?"
The noble squares his shoulders. "Your chores, Zaraki."
"You're in a pissy mood... 'cause of dishes?"
A flash of irritation. "You drew dishes. It's enough that I must cook. I will not clean up after you as well."
Kurotsuchi giggles behind the wall. Kenpachi has plans to knock him on his ass later. "I'll do 'em later!"
Byakuya ignores their little spy and goes back to his book and tea. "That is fine... I'll move your things to the couch tonight." He closes the book, sets the teacup in the sink and leaves the room. Kenpachi stares after him for a long moment before he turns to the sink. Four bowls, four plates and four cups, something rather simple and quick. He snorts and goes back to lounging in the living room with his can of beer, tapping his foot.
And then... he can think of nothing but those damn dishes and finally, with a grunt and a promise to himself that he ain't anyone's bitch, he goes to wash them.
"Whipped, aren't you?" Kurotsuchi teases.
At dinner-time, they're short one bowl and there's a cut across Kurotsuchi's face. He don't give a fuck. He's got a damn bed to sleep in at least.
Fandom: Bleach
Characters/Pairings: Hints of Byakuya/Kenpachi; Unohana, Kurotsuchi
Rating: PG
Warnings: randomness, OOCness, creeper!Kurotsuchi
Author Note: xD This was birthed from this. Therefore, I must say, the idea wasn't mine, just inspired. There are a few more and they're totally awesome. You can find those here. Anyway, that's it. I'm working, slowly, on everyone's Christmas, never fear.
Summary: Dishes r srs biz.
Kenpachi knows something's wrong. They've only been in this apartment two days and he can't seem to sit in the same room without having an ominous glare on the back of his head. It's not as if he asked for this assignment, or even that he cares a whole lot about what the fucker thinks, but he knows that if he wants this to be a tolerable stay, he has to at least keep the princess happy.
Said flower princess is sitting at the table, like always, sipping his tea, writing in his book, demeanor unnecessarily icy. Zaraki's never been good at reading reading minds. The stiff posture, the cold reception, these are all things that he's used to. He's known the sixth division captain long enough to know that's just how he is. He also knows he doesn't glare without a reason.
He growls when that head turns just enough for eyes of unfeeling slate to peer over his shoulder. "Just say it, would ya?!"
As if he's huffing and sulking, he says nothing and goes back to his book and tea.
Kurotsuchi sits in the corner, pretending to be uninterested, by Kenny knows the bastard's amused. By what, he doesn't frickin' know or really care, just that the bastard pisses him off as much as Kuchiki.
Unohana says not a word and drinks some tea before she heads out to work on her flower arranging. The four of them, forced into such a tiny space while they await further orders, is just becoming fucking unbearable.
Again those eyes seek him out and he gives up. The silent treatment isn't so much as a pain as those accusing looks, looks he just isn't dealing with. "All right, Kuchiki. What the fuck's your problem?" He demands, slamming a hand down on the table and stirring up the tea.
Byakuya closes his eyes and sips more from his cup, completely ignoring him. He's never liked being ignored.
Just as he goes to say something else (fucking Kurotsuchi's peeking around the corner like some damn creeper), the princess opens his mouth. "Must I spell it out for you? You're the one who has failed to do his job. Don't take it out on me."
"What?"
The noble squares his shoulders. "Your chores, Zaraki."
"You're in a pissy mood... 'cause of dishes?"
A flash of irritation. "You drew dishes. It's enough that I must cook. I will not clean up after you as well."
Kurotsuchi giggles behind the wall. Kenpachi has plans to knock him on his ass later. "I'll do 'em later!"
Byakuya ignores their little spy and goes back to his book and tea. "That is fine... I'll move your things to the couch tonight." He closes the book, sets the teacup in the sink and leaves the room. Kenpachi stares after him for a long moment before he turns to the sink. Four bowls, four plates and four cups, something rather simple and quick. He snorts and goes back to lounging in the living room with his can of beer, tapping his foot.
And then... he can think of nothing but those damn dishes and finally, with a grunt and a promise to himself that he ain't anyone's bitch, he goes to wash them.
"Whipped, aren't you?" Kurotsuchi teases.
At dinner-time, they're short one bowl and there's a cut across Kurotsuchi's face. He don't give a fuck. He's got a damn bed to sleep in at least.
