FAKE Quadruple Drabble: Welcome Change

[badly_knitted]

 


Title: Welcome Change
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Ryo, Dee.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Like Like Love.
Summary: Why go to the effort of cooking after a tiring day if there’s an alternative?
Written For: Challenge 353: Welcome at fan_flashworks.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
A/N: Quadruple Drabble.
 


 
Sprawled on the sofa beside his lover, Ryo stirred reluctantly, stretching, wincing at the pull of abused muscles. He was worn out from subduing a drunken suspect, a task that had wound up looking like a tag-team wrestling match. They’d been about ready to call for backup when their opponent had passed out. After that, the arrest had been relatively simple aside from dragging the unconscious man to and from their car, and they’d left him sleeping it off in a holding cell.

 
When they’d arrived home, they’d made it as far as the sofa before their aching legs gave out, and they hadn’t moved since. The chance to rest in comfort had been more than welcome, but they’d been sitting here for over an hour, and now Ryo was getting hungry.

 
“Well, guess we can’t laze around like this all evening; dinner won’t cook itself. Any preferences?”
 

Dee snagged his lover by the arm as Ryo went to stand up, pulling him back down, which was a lot easier than it should have been. One light tug and he toppled back onto the seat, a warm weight against Dee’s side.

 
“I was thinkin’ curry. We’ve been eatin’ home cookin’ all week, and that’s been great, but after today, orderin’ in might make a welcome change. No cookin’ to do, no dishes to wash, just hot food delivered to our door, ready to eat. We deserve a night off.”
 

Ryo relaxed against Dee’s side. “That’s a good idea, don’t know why I didn’t think of it. Curry sounds really good.”

 
“Want me to order? I got my phone right here, don’t even need to get up.”
 

“Please.” Somehow the sofa seemed even more comfortable now Ryo didn’t have to leave it.
 

“What d’ya fancy?”
 

Staring at the ceiling, Ryo considered his choices. “Lamb Rogan Josh,” he said at last, imagining the burst of flavour on his tongue from the spices.

 
Dialling their favourite Indian takeaway, Dee put in their order. He had nothing against cooking meals from scratch; he and Ryo had a lot of fun in the kitchen, trying out new recipes, but some days it was a relief to leave the food preparation to someone else.
 

“There’s just one problem with ordering in,” Ryo mused.

 
“What’s that?”
 

“One of us will have to get up and answer the door when the food arrives.”
 

“Damn, hadn’t thought of that!”
 

 
The End