Deathshipping Oneshots and What-Not

We Still Have Love (1/2)

Ryou was tired. Kick-arse, fall over dead tired. He'd had to work over-time for someone else's incompetence.

Again.

And he was damn tired of it.

"You're home late," Mariku said, long legs lazing out, away from the couch. "What happened tonight? Adam Dien? Jillian Marcuss? Or was it Frank Everheine?"

"Frank," Ryou huffed, dropping his bag. "How'd you know?"

"I have my ways." Mariku stood, lazy legs suddenly active. "Frank James Everheine. Blood-type B. One-hundred-sixty centimetres. Favourite food is braised chicken."

"Erm. . ." Ryou wiggled out of his coat, eyebrows furrowing. "Yea, that's him. How did--"

"Shuush. Frank won't bother you anymore." Mariku slipped into his shoes in the genkan, standing alongside Ryou, leaning down to leave a light kiss on the pale cheek.

"You're not allowed to kill him," Ryou snapped, pushing out of his own shoes and dragging Mariku back to the main room. "Let him be; he's new and has a learning curve."

"But Creampuff," Mariku whined, clinging all over his darling. "I want to kill someone, literally; you want to kill someone figuratively--it's the perfect pair."

"Your reputation as a reformed villian is on the line." Ryou rubbed his temples, exhaling puffs of annoyed air. "You're not gonna, 'cause I won't let you. Don't argue."

Mariku sulked, putting on a good show of it, too, but Ryou didn't seem in a very cuddly mood to deal with his favourite pychopath that evening.

"Oh, yea, guess what's coming up soon?" Mariku perked, now leading Ryou back to the couch. "Valentine's Day!" he said without waiting.

"Uhm-huhm. And? I've got work that day," Ryou said irritably, shaking away. "I won't have time."

"Well, that's just what I thought." Mariku nodded sagely, still bouncy.

"Yea? Good," Ryou said, smile a wan little thing.

"So tomorrow's Saturday. I have everything all set up just perfect for us." Mariku grinned, plopping Ryou on the couch. "And guess who's going to go ahead and get some special treatment?"

"Oh, Mariku, no, you don't--!"

Mariku cut him off, smiling. "No, no, it's okay. It's just a quick neck rub. Enticing, isn't it?"

"Well, yes. . ."

"There you have it." Mariku nodded happily, getting to work on the albino's stiff shoulders.

Ryou sighed, resigning himself to this. To Mariku. To all this.

For one more night.