A/N: Lyrics taken from Jack Johnson's "Banana Pancakes." Which you should listen to. While reading this fic: www . youtube . com / watch?v=OkyrIRyrRdY (remove spaces)

dedicated to: people who still ship this pair. or like fluff. or both.

Well can't you see that it's just raining? There ain't no need to go outside.

"No, no, no, where do you think you're going?" Pirika found herself being pulled backwards as she tried to stand up out of bed.

"And what do you think you're doing?" she asked, hardly able to contain a giggle as her lips were once again assaulted by his.

"Don't leave," he commanded, planting a kiss on her neck. "Stay here with me."

She closed her eyes. Admittedly, it did feel good, she reasoned. "I have work, Ren."

He simply stared at her. "And…?"

"And…well…I have work," she repeated, flopping backwards back onto the bed. "Not all of us are rich heirs, silly."

He continued staring at her.

She pouted, feeling as if she were under examination. "It's not like I want to go."

"Then don't." He shifted towards her until there was nothing left separating their faces except for her nervous breath and resistance. "It's raining. You hate the rain. You hate it when your hair gets wet."

She hesitated and looked away. "Ren, I don't—"

"Hello? Yes, I'm afraid that your employee, Usui Pirika, won't be able to make it today."

Her eyes widened and she lunged for the cell phone he had whipped out. "What are you—"

His fingers flew up against her lips to silence her. "Mhm, that's right. She's…" He smirked at her. "Quite sick today."

She reddened. "I can't believe you!" she groaned as he hung up and tossed the phone to the side. "Whatever."

He turned his gaze back towards her. "Now, where were we?"

Pretend like it's the weekend now. And we could pretend it all the time.

Pirika laid back panting while he lazily reclined against the headboard. "How…do you have so much energy…this early in the morning?" she asked incredulously.

"Training. Lots and lots of training," he replied, amused at her flushed face and labored breathing.

She opened her mouth to respond but couldn't even think straight. "I…wow."

"I tend to get that reaction a lot."

She glared at him. "Excuse me?" she huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Exactly who gives you that reaction a lot?"

His lips met her skin again and her mind went blank, forgetting everything. "It's nothing of concern," he murmured against her neck.

"O…Okay…" she replied lamely.

He leaned back and studied her in amusement. "Why? Are you jealous?"

She clenched her teeth together, half irked that he was right, half annoyed that he had leaned back away from her neck. "And so what if I am?"

He crossed his arms. "I never will understand you."

"Probably because you're not human—"

"And you're out of shape!" he said, teasing her about her shortness in breath earlier.

"What!" she exclaimed. "That is…well…you're fat."

"Excuse me?" He quirked at eyebrow at her, rather enjoying how flustered she was getting.

She fumbled with her hands as she realized that that was the biggest lie anyone had ever told as her eyes roved over his perfectly toned body, his skin stretched taught over pure muscle. "You're the one who gained five pounds last year," she remarked airily.

"All that was weight from….muscle gain."

She scowled and pressed her lips to his cheek. "Why don't you ever let me win?"

"And where is the fun in that?"

We could close the curtains, pretend like there's no world outside


Pirika froze guiltily as her fingers hovered over the keyboard of her phone.

"Stop worrying about everything."

"Ren…!" she grumbled and put the phone away.

"Turn it off," he ordered. "You're supposed to be paying attention to me," he grumbled.

She laughed loudly and rudely but that was what he loved about her (not that he would ever dream of saying that out loud of course…but…still…). "Do you…realize…you sound like…a five year old?" she managed to ask between bursts of giggles.

He rolled his eyes and sulked.

"Aw, does widdle Renny-face want attention?" she cooed pinching his cheek.

"Don't call me that. Ever." He batted his hand away and muttered something about "troublesome women."

Pirika simply laughed again and clapped her hands together joyfully.

"No, but what I do want is for you to make me a sandwich, woman."

His request was met by a very emphatic pillow to the face. "Make it yourself!" she huffed. "I'm not your maid!"

"I suppose, but again, you're very good at…following orders—"

Another pillow projectile was launched his way. "Shut up!" Pirika cried, her face reddening.

He closed his eyes and didn't remember being this…liberated before. It's…weird.

"Actually, I'm hungry too. I'll make us some breakfast." She hopped out of bed and slid his crisp white shirt on, looking more like a dress on her small stature.

"You better hurry back," he demanded.

She playfully poked his nose. "Try not to miss me too much."

"You ask too much of me, woman."

We got everything we need right here. And everything we need is enough.

"Banana pancakes?" Ren stared at the food Pirika had slid in front of him in confusion.

"Yes…Is there a…problem?" she asked slowly.

He snorted and picked up his fork and began eating. "Banana pancakes…" he scoffed.

"It's the only thing I know how to cook!" she snapped, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Now who's acting like the five year old?" he shot back, smirking. "Of course, I know it's the only thing you can cook."

"You…do?" She blinked in surprise and unfolded her arms slowly.

He shook his head. "You're so slow."

"And you're fat! You already demolished two pancakes! Jeez, I've never seen anyone eat that fast and this is the sister of the most gluttonous person alive talking here!"

He stuffed the remainder of the third pancake in his mouth and chewed and swallowed. "I need a lot of food for my workout. Because, you know, some people actually exercise—"

A playful smack to the arm.

"And did you really have to bring up your brother? And this morning was going by so well too…" He shoved the dirty dishes to the side and eyed her untouched food.

She frowned, tapping her forefinger to her lips, and tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. She jumped in surprise and slapped Ren's creeping hand away. "Seriously? You just had three pancakes!" She shielded the plate with her body, determined to protect the lone pancake survivor from Ren's ravaging assault.

He frowned and stuck out his finger.

She stared at it quizzically.

He moved his hand towards her and her eyes widened as she realized what he was about to do.

"Don't—!" It was only a matter of milliseconds before she dissolved into a fit of laughter. "Stop…" She gasped for breath as he prodded her in the side. "Tickling me!"

"You're very sensitive, do you know that?"

She flushed at his innuendo and slapped his wrist. "You are…"

He pretended to be engrossed deep in thought as he listed off possibilities. "Ruggedly handsome? Charmingly acerbic? Extremely witty?"

She shot him a look, her face completely devoid of emotion. "Oh shut it."

It's just so easy when the whole world fits inside of your arms. Don't really need to pay attention to the alarm.


"Hmm?" she asked, only half-attentive, as she idly traced circles up the path of his arm.

"Do you realize you haven't checked your phone even once for the past four hours?"

She opened her mouth and instinctively reached for it before his arm darted out and snatched the device away from her. "Hey!"

"And you're actually…God forbid, enjoying yourself!" he exclaimed dryly, lazily flipping the phone over and over in his hand. "See what happens when you follow my orders?"

"Yes, I'm docked a day's pay and my co-workers think I'm truant," she replied deadpan.

He kissed her temple and she sighed and resigned herself into his arms, resting her head against the hollow of his collarbone and neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist. "You really should listen to me more often."

"Hmph. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"So I like playing dictator. Sue me. But then again, you should know that by now."

Pirika smiled and slipped out of the cage of his arms, burying herself under the sheets. "Do I ever."

"You know I hate it when you mess up the bed sheets."

She sighed. "What do you care, you don't even make your own bed! That's why you have servants," she said, her head covered by the sheets as she rolled around on the mattress underneath her cotton fortress, stretching out lazy muscles and deadened limbs.

A long pause. "Still."

"You're so odd, you know that?" She dangled half her foot off the bed, wincing slightly as the cold air met her exposed skin. "Small messes bother you and yet you invest your life into one of the messiest businesses in the world." She rolled her ankle off the side, bringing her waist parallel to the edge of the bed. "I don't know why you keep—" She felt her body being dragged down in slow motion as she began slipping off the bed, the sheets being pulled off of her and she was staring back into his eyes, his face somehow having found its way to hover over hers, his hands pinning her to the bed before she had hit the floor, his lightning quick dexterity having wrapped a makeshift safety net out of the blanket at the last second.

"Oh," she whispered quietly. "You…caught me."

"I caught you," he breathed, bringing her back into his arms and warmth and comfort.

You gotta wake up slow.

A/N: I wish real-life was like this. Anyways, I don't own the song....obviously. And holy shit, FLUFF everywhere. And pretty straightforward allusions to sex. There's always a first time for everything. No I didn't realize the innuendo embedded in that statement until now. This is meant to be my anniversary fic (a few days late) because it's been 3 years since I've formally been a part of FFNet. Hope you enjoyed this! I've also posted a YohAnna fic last week or so called Process so you might wanna check that out. And check out my SK Fanfic contest! (Check my profile for link) Please remember to leave a review!