Author: Grasshopper (A.K.A. The Undertaker's Muse)
Warnings: Innuendo. Stupidity. Humor. Something. And fluffy, het romance type stuff. (I fail. Srsly.)
Fandom: Fruits Basket
Spoilers: Nothing specific, but set post-curse. (Whee future fic!)
Pairings: Sohma Yuki x Kuragi Machi
Summary: Neither Yuki nor Machi are particularly tidy individuals.
Author's Notes: I love writing this pairing, no matter how difficult it may sometimes be. I just wish I'd been able to flesh this out a bit more, because I adore the idea of it…
Disclaimer: All things Fruits Basket belong to Takaya Natsuki-sensei. Grassy only lays claim to the plot.
(22.) Dirty Laundry
Sunday, in Yuki's opinion, was the absolute worst day of the week. It struck him as very wrong for the one day he and Machi both consistently had free to be tied up in such…unpleasant endeavors.
For each Sunday was set aside as Cleaning Day, an activity neither Yuki nor Machi were particularly fond of. But if the two didn't want to be buried alive under the filth brought about by Yuki's carelessness and Machi's dislike of tidiness, then some measures were a necessary undertaking.
"Every Sunday I look around and wonder how things got so bad in just a week." Yuki's words were muffled by the mask covering his mouth and nose, rubber glove-clad hands perched incredulously upon his hips.
"Mmm," Machi agreed absently, distracted by her futile attempts at retrieving a lone sock from under their bed. She could feel the need to sneeze building up as the dust bunnies whose space she invaded retaliated en masse. One of them should probably clean under there…
Hours later, having gone through each room of their home methodically, tidying enough to be sanitary but not enough to irritate Machi's sensitivities, they collapsed against one another in the laundry room. Lulled by the whirring of the washing machine, the couple enjoyed a moment of quiet peace.
"…we stink," Machi stated flatly, pulling away from her companion slightly.
"True. We're in dire need of a shower." Yuki's smile shone with feigned innocence. "Shall we save time and take one together?"
Face flaming at the suggestion, Machi bared her teeth and growled.
"Eh? You object to the idea?" An aura of gloom surrounded the silver-haired man.
"…I never said that. But must you be so blunt?"
"Well, it's not like we haven't been living together for months now. And…" Yuki played with the slim engagement ring that encircled her left ring finger.
"It's not the act of showering with you I object to," Machi grumbled, a hint of pink still staining her face. "I object to how you suggested it."
Machi caught Yuki's gaze with her own. "You were acting like your brother."
"Or," she continued, ignoring his outraged sputtering, "I suppose, maybe…more like Kakeru?"
"…?!" Yuki stared at his fiancée in silent shock. He opened his mouth to retort, but Machi went on.
"And before you go into how mean I am to you, think about who else argues like that." Despite the band expression that covered her face, Machi was dying of laughter inside. Truly, Yuki didn't realize the amount of truth she spoke…
Glaring at Machi in faux anger, Yuki pulled her up against his sweaty, dirty self. "Before we keep arguing all night about this, let's just go shower. Please."
"Fine." In sharp contrast to her grudging acceptance, Machi smiled at Yuki happily.
And Yuki fell a bit more in love.