Work Text:
It’s a lazy morning on a lazy weekend, which is just like every other weekend in Kunimi Akira’s existence. Dishes need done and laundry too, but all that can wait until he’s ready to pry himself out of the cocoon of warmth from being ensconced by every blanket they own.
Of course, Tobio is off to work already, so no one is there to goad him back into reality and some modicum of responsibility.
Noon comes and goes before Akira coaxes himself out of bed, and he quickly settles on the couch for some tea and a book he’s been meaning to read for months. He’s halfway through it before Tobio comes home.
Tobio’s eyes fall quickly on the basket of dirty laundry and lingering dishes and sighs. “I thought you’d do those today.”
Akira chuckles. “Bold of you to assume I would commit to an ounce of responsibility on my weekend. I need to unwind.”
“Akira,” Tobio scolds, but his words die once years of practiced futility take hold. “Okay, what is it this time?”
Shutting his book, Akira scratches his chin. “How about . . . for every five dishes I wash or pieces of clothing I load into the washer, you take of an article of clothing.”
Tobio shivers at the suggestion, but he gives a curt bob of the head and Akira already knows this is a day very well spent. Following him to the kitchen, Tobio lingers against the counter while Akira washes each dish at a torturously slow pace.
When he marks Tobio’s impatient shifting, Akira teases, “Is there somewhere you have to be?”
Glaring, Tobio crosses his arms until Akira finally puts the fifth item onto the drying board. In one fluid movement, he whips off his shirt, and Akira takes a moment to appreciate that at least one of them isn’t lazy when it comes to working out.
By the time the dishes conclude, Tobio is missing a shirt and a sock and a lot of patience. In reply, Akira daintily drops one item at a time into their small washer until only one garment remains on Tobio’s twitching body.
Their eyes both fall on the four remaining garments waiting to be loaded, and Akira quirks a brow. “What to do, what to do.” He smirks as he peels off a sock of his own and takes the rest of the clothes and crams them into the washer, dumping probably way more soap than necessary inside.
He can barely get the cycle started before Tobio sweeps Akira off his feet and over a shoulder. He’s going to pay for every single sly second he exacted over the past half an hour.
What an excellent way to spend a day off indeed.