Summary: Mukuro stood, naked as the day he was born, misting his pineapples in their backyard on a scorching summer afternoon. 6927
Dedication: For rox-chan. ILU. *V*
Prompt: Mist on a hot/humid day
Notes: AUGHHHH, it turned out VERY weird. Sorry. HAHA. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm not very good at writing Mukuro's character. D8
As he prepared himself a small snack, Tsuna absently peered through the kitchen window at his Mukuro's naked back, squinting slightly through the bright afternoon sunshine to get a clearer view of what exactly the odd eyed man was doing.
He shook his head and sighed in a way that was not so much weary as it was resigned, and folded his sandwich neatly in half. Mukuro would want some too, he figured. He tucked the separate halves into small sandwich bags and glanced up again at the still figure in his – no, their backyard.
From the looks of it, Mukuro had decided to water the pineapples. In the middle of the afternoon. And completely naked, to boot. Oh, dear lord.
Water even wasn't the right word for it. The odd-eyed Guardian was using a water mister, something to be used on countertop plants or something of the sort. Mukuro was using that dinky little thing to water his mini pineapple farm. To put it simply, it was a gigantic waste of water –especially in this heat- and Mukuro really didn't seem to care.
Tsuna sighed again, fingering the sandwich bags in his hands. Not for the first time, he wondered why exactly he was living with his Mist Guardian. He was forced to, more than persuaded, but he supposed it really could be worse. He would admit that there certainly were frequent times when he just wanted to drop everything and get the hell out, but sadly, he was growing accustomed to Mukuro's eccentric ways. He snuck another peek at the odd-eyed man, who was still very casually watering- no, misting his pineapples.
It was always so random, and spontaneous to boot - an off-the-cuff impulse or sudden fancy. Just last month, the odd-eyed man returned home with an armful of very mutilated sunflowers that looked like they'd been crudely ripped off the roadside.
"They reminded me of you," He had said.
Tsuna must have looked distinctly horrified to a certain degree, and Mukuro, in some twisted form of amendment, plucked a particularly ugly one from the bunch and tucked it behind the mousy-haired boy's ears before bending down and stealing a kiss. Tsuna was left perfectly distracted and Mukuro had hastily made his escape. Damn him.
He also won't mention the time when the sunflower gardener who lived a block up the street rammed on the door the following day and had demanded compensation for the stolen flowers. He'd thrown a noisy hissy fit, and Mukuro wasn't home to bear the pain. Tsuna readily regretted opening the door that day.
"Your husband," The nameless gardener huffed in parting. "Please teach him some manners." Tsuna blanched at the word "husband", but didn't bother correcting him, for fear of sparking another tirade.
Oh, and of course he remembered the time – just a week ago, actually- when his Guardian returned home dragging dozen uprooted pineapple bushes and a silly, maniacal grin on his face, his mismatched eyes alight with childish mischief. Hence the mini pineapple farm in their backyard was born. Tsuna did not know where the pineapples came from and honestly, he didn't really want to know. But he really hoped they weren't from the pineapple farmer who lived three blocks down.
Tsuna sighed, scooping up the sandwiches in one hand and cups in the other. He's done weirder and worse. Why not let him stretch the water bill a bit? He kicked the door open before walking out and setting the snacks on the table.
The petite mafioso settled for yelling a quick "Please, for the love of God, put some clothes on!" at his Guardian's naked back before picking out a nice shady spot on the patio to enjoy his half of the sandwich.
He didn't bother to comment on the water bill, because Mukuro wouldn't care, anyway.