Flirting - Atsushi/Hasebe
2207.01.
Atsushi lies with his body half-wedged under the writing table and his head in Hasebe’s lap. It’s an awkward position, to be sure, but now that Atsushi’s achieved it, he plans to keep it as long as he can.
“Uhm,” Hasebe says. “What are you doing?”
Or as long as Hasebe will let him, at any rate.
Atsushi cracks open an eye, and looks up at the uchigatana with a grin.
“Using you as a pillow,” he says. “What? I’m not too heavy, am I?”
He doesn’t ask if Hasebe is uncomfortable. He knows Hasebe will say yes, and that it’ll just be an excuse to hide his embarrassment. If Hasebe truly wanted him gone, he would say as much, and directly. Besides, it’s not like he’s doing anything important.
Hasebe sighs.
“Do you mind?” he says. “I’m trying to get these reports written up for the master.”
“You’re re-writing the reports for the master. Kasen already wrote them out.”
“And do you think I should let the master read those reports? Kasen’s handwriting is illegible!”
“The master’s never complained.”
Atsushi shuts his eye again, and Hasebe grumbles to himself about how the master also has chicken-scratch for handwriting, and how her writing would be so much nicer if she stopped treating the paper like a block of wood she was engraving. Atsushi, who’s long suspected the master does that only to tease Hasebe in specific, says nothing.
Hasebe tries to go back to his work, but Atsushi is clearly in his way. He doesn’t bother offering to move, or indeed doing it. He has other plans for the bigger sword, and he’s pretty sure it’ll only take a minute or two for those plans to get started.
He’s almost exactly spot on.
Hasebe puts down his pen and sighs. “What do you want?”
Atsushi grins up at him, both eyes open this time.
“How about a kiss?”
Hasebe’s face turns almost immediately scarlet.
“I - what - no, I’m working!”
He isn’t really, not anymore. If you could call self-assigned busywork ‘working’ to begin with.
His blush doesn’t go away either.
Atsushi’s grin widens.
“Kiss me,” he says, an order this time. He knows how much Hasebe likes orders.
Hasebe bends over automatically at the command, but comes up short. The desk and his human body won’t allow him any closer.
“… You’ll have to move,” Hasebe says. He sounds like he’s given up entirely on trying to convince Atsushi to go away.
“I’m fine with that,” Atsushi says, and shimmies off Hasebe’s lap.
With a lot of rustling clothes and sighs from Hasebe, they find themselves in a better position. This time, Hasebe is unencumbered by the desk, and Atsushi is sitting in his lap. It’s not doing anything for the colour of the uchigatana’s cheeks, or the growing ache in Atsushi’s own from smiling so hard.
“Fine,” Hasebe says. “Five minutes, that's all.”
“Fifteen.”
“Ten.”
“Deal,” Atsushi says, because he knows it’ll be closer to fifteen in the end. “Now, kiss me?”
Hasebe obeys.