Work Text:
Aiba crouched behind the chair and waited, pretending there was suspenseful, animalistic music playing thumpingly loud in his ears.
The door opened, and Jun walked in.
Target acquired. (The music changed to something more like Mission Impossible without missing a beat.)
Aiba leaped, or tried to, but the moment he sprang up, his leg cramped horribly. He fell right back down, yelping.
"Aiba-chan?" Jun hurried over, kneeling beside Aiba and touching cool fingers to Aiba's bare ankle. "Did you twist it?"
"No, my calf, it's cramping..."
Jun's fingers moved up and began to rub, and Aiba could practically see the soothing waves of Jun's love seeping into his muscles. As soon as he felt like he could move again, he pounced.
This time he was successful, and Jun landed on his back on the floor with an oomph. Aiba hovered on top of him victoriously, then had a pang of conscience.
"Thank you for fixing my leg." He loomed closer even as he said it, and Jun's expression melted from confusion to resignation.
"We have all kissed, Aiba-chan. Why are you doing this again?"
Aiba tilted his head, confused. "What do you mean, why?"
After a moment, Jun let a tiny smile escape him, and then he grumbled, "Well, get on with it, then."
Aiba did.
(Mission: success.)