Calling You Home
[500 Themes: 193]
"Get off your computer," Kotetsu grumbles, head tipping over the back of the couch wearily, "and come over here."
Barnaby frowns. It isn't as if 'over here' is that far away, so Kotetsu should be satisfied. After all, he's only at the other end of the couch, laptop in his grasp as per usual – but Kotetsu is staring at him, fully expecting movement, and so Barnaby sighs, sitting the computer aside with a last, neurotic check-over his email before sidling closer.
And by sidling closer, he means an elegant draping of his legs over Kotetsu's lap as he flops backward, head propped up on an oversized pillow. Kotetsu grins, then, considering himself entirely successful, and hums to himself as he simultaneously reaches for the TV remote and slides a hand up one, lean leg.
"Don't put on something stupid," Barnaby immediately complains, even as his eyes lid and he contemplates a nap, lulled within seconds at the easy kneading of Kotetsu's fingers into aching shins.
"I'm not, I'm not. Geez."
The television is turned on, Barnaby sighing loudly whenever a channel didn't meet his approval. Finally, Kotetsu seems to give up, settling upon some house-finding show, and the two lounge in silence for several moments, Kotetsu's fingers still absently working into sore muscle.
"… That's pretty much my dream kitchen right there."
Barnaby flushes a little bit when he says it, especially when Kotetsu's gaze flicks sideways to look at him.
"What are you talking about? You rarely even cook."
"I'd cook more if I wasn't always dragged out to dinners and what have you."
Kotetsu snorts, obviously amused, as he teasingly replies: "Would you cook for me, Bunny-chan?"
Silence, as Barnaby definitely blushes then and his head is turned to the side, half-pressed into the back of the couch. "It's not like you know how to cook, after all – beyond fried rice or whatever it is…"
He expects Kotetsu to keep teasing him, but he can feel the warmth of his smile instead, and he relaxes again, especially when Kotetsu's hands start moving once more and give one ankle a slow, affectionate rub.
"Right. I'll keep that kind of kitchen in mind."