#I'M NORMAL FOR THE FISHBOWL. I'M NORMAL FOR THE BUBBLE HEAD. I'M NORMAL FOR THE BOWLCUT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sitabethel · 7 years

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Any chance you could post some random fluffsmut headcanons for trashshipping today? I kind of ran into some jarring stuff I'm gonna have to deal with later. -aspidisecalis being a nerd at the bakery again

Oooooooo~ I think It’s time to do a teaser for One Man’s Trash (the Trashshipping fic I’ve been working on here and there. I have 14 finished chapters so far). This is the end of Chapter 8, the “first kiss” scene.

Context: Kek and Bakura are trying to live like “normal people.” They finally get their own apartment, but they’re broke af, so they don’t have much. There are some OC mentions:

Tomoko: She’s the landlady at the hostel they stayed at before they could move out on their own. She’s pretty much an adopted mother to Kek.

Granny: She’s a grumpy old woman that owns the noodle shop in which Bakura works. She walks around all day drinking booze and coffee, so Bakura gets along with her pretty well, actually.

It was frightening, how he felt, but Bakura caught his reflection in a store window on the walk home and stopped to really stare at himself.

He saw a little of the thief he once was, mostly in the set of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed in automatic suspicion at everything in the world, but otherwise… he looked like he belonged in Japan, Ryou’s long lost cousin. He had Ryou’s delicate cheekbones and eyes, his narrow nose and thinner lips. It was like he’d been reincarnated, and Bakura supposed he had been. He fought the Pharaoh in video games now, and snuggled on the couch with an orphan who’d been adopted by a hostel’s landlady and a tanuki who possessed a couch. It wasn’t weirder than anything else that’d ever happened to him.

Bakura snorted, smirked at his own reflection, and walked home, wanting to see Kek. He struggled for a second to get the key to turn in the worn out lock, but then he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Hey, Kek, I was wondering if you wanted- holy shit.” Bakura started laughing.

Bubbles covered the kitchen floor. In some areas, the suds rose almost half a meter tall. The mess soaked into the edge of the living room carpet.

“Just- shut- the- fuck- up!” Kek shouted through sobs. He knelt amidst the foam with a towel in each hand and tears running down his cheeks.

“Oi, oi.” Bakura shut the door, slipped off his shoes and socks, and tiptoed to the kitchen. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I can’t do this!” Kek wailed. “How am I supposed to be a human being when I can’t even run a dishwasher!” He rubbed his eyes against his bicep. “What did I do wrong? I don’t understand how I fucked up something so easy.”

“Did you use a tab?” Bakura asked as he crouched beside Kek.

“Tab? I used dish soap?”

“The liquid kind?”

“There’s more than one kind?” Kek’s face wrinkled, still shouting. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“You weren’t.” Bakura wrapped his arms around Kek and held him. “Tomoko didn’t have a dishwasher. How could you know? I only know because of Ryou.”

“Stupid Marik,” Kek hissed between clenched teeth. “If he was normal- I wouldn’t be so fucked up!”

“You wouldn’t exist.” Bakura used his thumb to tilt Kek’s face up. He smiled when Kek looked at him and traced Kek’s cheek. “And hey, I kinda enjoy the fact that you exist. This humanity thing would be underrated if I couldn’t watch you stumble through it with me.”

Tears welled up in Kek’s eyes, and Bakura hated seeing tears in his eyes.

“It’s just soap and water.”

“I fucked up all the towels.”

“I’ll go get some more.”

But Bakura didn’t stand up. Instead, he dropped down to his knees, allowing the bubbles and water to soak through his jeans, and leaned in to kiss Kek. They both closed their eyes as their lips moved tentatively against each other. When Bakura pulled away; Kek gasped.

“I’m going out to get towels-”

“We can’t afford-”

Bakura kissed him again and realized it was a great way to shut an Ishtar up. He should have kissed Kek back in Battle City. He’d take that over getting roasted by a god any time.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bakura shook his head. “Towels are cheap, and I’ve been stingy so I could get your present- which I’m also getting, so throw those towels in the wash, and I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know about the tabs.”

“It’s not your fault.” Bakura combed Kek’s hair with his fingers, and then got up and left before Kek could apologize again.

He went to the thrift store with soap-soaked pants. He grabbed the entire stack of towels, and the manager noticed Bakura carrying an armload of towels with wet pants and a sheepish look on his face, and she gave him a discount for buying the entire batch. After the thrift shop, Bakura counted up his money. He’d been trying to manage to save enough to get Kek a nice, red leather jacket that he’d seen, but the dishes, the eggs and rice, the extra towels… Bakura still had enough for something, but not a leather jacket. He sighed and started walking towards the house, glancing at the shops and wondering what the fuck he was going to do.

Then he saw the pet shop and had a brilliant idea. Bakura bought a fishbowl, dark purple gravel, dechlorinator, and two cheap fake plants. Then he went over to the betas and picked the brightest, most blood-red one he could find. His shopping bags in one hand, and a plastic container in the other, Bakura rushed back to the apartment with a huge grin on his face.

“I’m back!” He shouted into the apartment.

“Did you get the towels?” Kek asked, standing over the rice cooker with bubbles all around his feet. The apartment carried the warm scent of cooked rice as Kek used a regular spoon to stir it because they didn’t own a rice paddle yet.

“I got something better than towels.” Bakura held out the fish.

“Idiot.” Kek rubbed at his eyes, but didn’t cry again. “You shouldn’t have bothered.”

“I wanted to.” Bakura set everything down on their table.

Kek walked up behind him and, despite the wet floor, Kek picked Bakura up, turned him around, and set him on top of the table beside the fish. Bakura opened his mouth to complain, but Kek’s tongue slipped inside and he moaned instead.

“Thank you,” Kek whispered against Bakura’s lips. “You taught me how to say that, you know.”

“It’s just a bad habit I picked up from my old host.” Bakura chuckled at himself because the statement was true.

“H-how do I…” Kek pushed away from Bakura and went towards the fish.

“Put the gravel in the bowl. Add the plants. Fill with water. Then follow the directions for those drops.”

“It says it has to sit to work in the water.”

“Then let it sit. He’ll be fine in the cup until then.” Bakura stretched and groaned. He grabbed the towels and they used them to mop up the floor and then Bakura stripped and stuck in clothes and the towels in the washer.

“Should have saved one for yourself,” Kek said.

“Shit,” Bakura cursed. He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Whatever. I’m still taking a shower and drawing a bath to soak in afterward.” He glanced at Kek. “Want to join me in the bath?”

“W-wh-what?” Kek giggled, his face going flush even through his complexion.

“It’s common in Japan. You rinse off in the shower and then relax in the tub.”

“With other people?” Kek asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes.” Bakura snorted and walked towards the bathroom. “Look, I don’t care either way, just thought I’d offer.”

“I didn’t say no!” Kek followed.

“Give me a second to shower first.” Bakura laughed.

“You’re already naked. What’s the point of me waiting now?”

“Whatever.” Bakura stepped into the shower.

He washed his hair, soaped up, and rinsed everything as quickly as possible. He heard the bath running as he rinsed. Bakura didn’t have a towel, so he had to wring out his hair the best he could and shake dry before stepping out of the shower cubicle.

“Thought you’d want to go straight to the tub,” Kek said.

“Thanks.” Bakura dipped his body into the huge bathtub. “Fuck. This is nice.”

“I’ll hop into the shower now.” Kek disappeared behind Bakura.

Bakura kept his eyes closed and relaxed. He heard the water turn on, then a few minutes later off, but didn’t bother opening his eyes until he felt Kek’s bodyweight displace the water in the tub.

“It’s nice, right?”

“Sure is.” Kek sighed.

“After today, we both deserve a bath.” Bakura stared at the ceiling. Water stains bloomed like yellow carnations

“I made rice.”

“Sounds freaking delicious.”

“We still don’t have towels.”

“I’ll use a shirt.”

Kek laughed. Bakura grinned and shifted so that he could look at Kek instead of the ceiling. “I’m serious. It won’t work as well, but fuck it? Better than dripping over the rest of the carpet.”

“You’re the same as always.” Kek rose out of the water.

“How do you mean?” Bakura averted his eyes, although he really wanted to stare at the way the water gleamed off of Kek’s body.

“Even when things don’t go according to plan, you just roll with it.”

“Ha, yeah. I had to learn that skill pretty early on. It’s the only way I survived.”

“Pffft, I’ll get some shirts then.”

Kek went away and returned with two of their more worn t-shirts. They did a piss-poor job drying, but Bakura made do and put on dry clothes. He used the wet shirt to wrap up his hair, adding a hair dryer to his mental list of shit they needed to buy.

“I’ll serve the rice.” Kek walked onto the now dry kitchen floor and grabbed their only two bowls out of the dishwasher. “There’s still bubbles in here.”

“Just rinse them off. I think we may actually have a dish towel left.”

“Fuck. I forgot dishtowels even exist.” Kek pulled the drawer and took one of the smaller towels out.

“I’m going to put the laundry in the dryer.”

Bakura shook his head even as he moved over to the washer. More and more he was adapting to regular life, but it was still odd to think about putting towels in the dryer. Not only was it the sort of thing he used to make Ryou deal with, but there hadn’t been dryers in Egypt thousands of years ago. Bakura would just wash his clothes in the river and nap naked in the sun until they were dry.

“Here’s dinner.” Kek set the bowls on the table.

He took the little cup and popped off the plastic lid, dumping the water into the bowl. The beta swirled like a quick flame before righting himself and breaking the surface for a breath.

“They breath air from the top.” Bakura pointed. “And they blow nests out of bubbles.”

“How do you know?”

“Granny rambles about them all the time.” Bakura started digging into his food. “It’s good.”

“Fucking liar. We don’t even have salt.”

Bakura laughed. “You’re right. I was lying. It’s not bad.”

“Makes it real, right?”

“Yes.” Bakura winked. “The Shadow Realm knows I love steak. It’d never try to tempt me with plain rice. This moment is utterly real.”

#One Man's Trash #Trashshipping #Yami Bakura x Yami Marik #it's more fluff and less smut but this story is the closest thing to slow burn I'll ever write

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