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dethoratsTitle: Sheets
Rating: G
Pairing: Shanks and Ben
Word Count: 912
“Clean bed! Clean bed! Clean bed!”
“Yes, yes, a clean bed. And if you continue to insist upon eating crackers and spilling rum all over it, it’s going to be a naked bed because we’ll be out of sheets.”
Tossing a pointed look over his shoulder in the direction of the ever-growing laundry pile, Ben tugged the last corner of the fitted green sheet into place before frowning up at his captain. Shanks was in the process of doing some kind of happy dance on the other side of the bed, having been completely useless during its remaking. It made, Ben paused to consider, the fifth time in three days that he’d had to strip and re-make the bed. They were actually down to the last set of sheets, the green cotton ones with the obscenely high thread count to be exact. He still remembered the day Shanks had stolen them off the luxury liner, right out of the honey moon suite. Usually they saved them for special occasions, or when Shanks was feeling particularly decadent, but with the redhead’s recent penchant for turning his bed into a full service bar – complete with the peanuts, greasy chow, and puddled liquor – and the fact that laundry day wasn’t until tomorrow, they’d managed to go through all the other sets of linen that Shanks had.
“I’ll be careful! I promise!”
“Oi Oi!”
One quick, sharp yank on the flat sheet that he’d been in the process of smoothing down, and the slick fabric had the captian continuing from his initial dive onto the bed right off the other side onto the floor at Ben’s feet. Landing with a loud thud, Shanks turned a pout up at his first mate. Ben was having none of it, though. Five times of making the bed, and he had yet to get even one night on the fresh sheets. Shanks kept on mucking them up and sleeping in the crumbs and sticky spot was about as pleasant as sleeping in the wet spot. These were their best linens and he was determined to get at least one night’s unspoiled rest on them.
“Stop that! I’m not finished yet.”
He gave Shanks a swift kick in the side and went back to making the bed. He couldn’t begrudge his captain the help. It could be hard to get bedclothes on smoothly in any situation, and with only a single arm, it gave Shanks more trouble than most. But somehow the man had to be always in his way and interfering with his work. Adjusting the quilt was the last step and he spread it over the soft and slippery linen with a quick flick of the wrist. Shanks was still on the floor, but he could see that the redhead was gathering himself to spring. Just like the cat he’d had when he was a child, the captain couldn’t resist the allure of a newly-made bed. He HAD to jump on it, roll around messing up the sheets all the while making soft, pleased sounds, before finally settling in a sprawl to take a nap.
Shanks was fast, but Ben was ready and his reflexes were able catch him in mid-leap, swinging him around so that he went flying headfirst towards the dirty laundry rather than onto the bed.
“Yaaaaa! What the hell Beckman?! Throwing ‘round your captain like a sack a potatoes!”
“I am sleeping on this bed tonight and there will NOT be any crumbs, liquor spots, or any other uncomfortable things mucking it up. None of you and your bad habits! I will get one night on clean sheets or, so help me, I’ll go back to my hammock and leave you to sleep on a bare mattress. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” Shanks grumbled as he climbed to his feet. “You’re sayin’ you don’t want my funk messin’ up the bed. As in, you think I’m a dirty slob.”
“Oh shut up. I know you’re a dirty slob or I wouldn’t have had to remake the bed so many times already. And you do not have funk, at least not most of the time. All I’m asking for is one night without you eating or drinking in bed. That can’t be too….” Ben trailed off in the face of Shanks’ pronounced moue. “Alright, alright. Never mind. I can see that you’re set on continuing this irritating trend of midnight snacking. I guess you just don’t want me to sleep with you anymore.”
He was only two steps away from the door when Shanks caught hold of one hand.
“W-wait! I don’t want ya to not sleep with me. Can’t we just, I dunno, take a nap now or something? Would that be okay?”
Shanks’ fingers were warm as they twined with his own and tugged him backward. It was the middle of the day and there were chores to be seen to, inventory to be counted, and weapons practice to run, but they had a competent crew and he WAS rather tired after tossing and turning in uncomfortable bits of peanut shell and cookie pieces all last night.
“Very well. But NO snacks. I mean it. I want this nap to end without me having any crumbs or whatever embedded in my skin..”
The captain grinned up at him, fingers freeing themselves to begin nimbly stripping off already-loose clothing.
“No problem. The only hard bits you’ll be feelin’ in these new sheets’ll be me.”
Rating: G
Pairing: Shanks and Ben
Word Count: 912
“Clean bed! Clean bed! Clean bed!”
“Yes, yes, a clean bed. And if you continue to insist upon eating crackers and spilling rum all over it, it’s going to be a naked bed because we’ll be out of sheets.”
Tossing a pointed look over his shoulder in the direction of the ever-growing laundry pile, Ben tugged the last corner of the fitted green sheet into place before frowning up at his captain. Shanks was in the process of doing some kind of happy dance on the other side of the bed, having been completely useless during its remaking. It made, Ben paused to consider, the fifth time in three days that he’d had to strip and re-make the bed. They were actually down to the last set of sheets, the green cotton ones with the obscenely high thread count to be exact. He still remembered the day Shanks had stolen them off the luxury liner, right out of the honey moon suite. Usually they saved them for special occasions, or when Shanks was feeling particularly decadent, but with the redhead’s recent penchant for turning his bed into a full service bar – complete with the peanuts, greasy chow, and puddled liquor – and the fact that laundry day wasn’t until tomorrow, they’d managed to go through all the other sets of linen that Shanks had.
“I’ll be careful! I promise!”
“Oi Oi!”
One quick, sharp yank on the flat sheet that he’d been in the process of smoothing down, and the slick fabric had the captian continuing from his initial dive onto the bed right off the other side onto the floor at Ben’s feet. Landing with a loud thud, Shanks turned a pout up at his first mate. Ben was having none of it, though. Five times of making the bed, and he had yet to get even one night on the fresh sheets. Shanks kept on mucking them up and sleeping in the crumbs and sticky spot was about as pleasant as sleeping in the wet spot. These were their best linens and he was determined to get at least one night’s unspoiled rest on them.
“Stop that! I’m not finished yet.”
He gave Shanks a swift kick in the side and went back to making the bed. He couldn’t begrudge his captain the help. It could be hard to get bedclothes on smoothly in any situation, and with only a single arm, it gave Shanks more trouble than most. But somehow the man had to be always in his way and interfering with his work. Adjusting the quilt was the last step and he spread it over the soft and slippery linen with a quick flick of the wrist. Shanks was still on the floor, but he could see that the redhead was gathering himself to spring. Just like the cat he’d had when he was a child, the captain couldn’t resist the allure of a newly-made bed. He HAD to jump on it, roll around messing up the sheets all the while making soft, pleased sounds, before finally settling in a sprawl to take a nap.
Shanks was fast, but Ben was ready and his reflexes were able catch him in mid-leap, swinging him around so that he went flying headfirst towards the dirty laundry rather than onto the bed.
“Yaaaaa! What the hell Beckman?! Throwing ‘round your captain like a sack a potatoes!”
“I am sleeping on this bed tonight and there will NOT be any crumbs, liquor spots, or any other uncomfortable things mucking it up. None of you and your bad habits! I will get one night on clean sheets or, so help me, I’ll go back to my hammock and leave you to sleep on a bare mattress. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” Shanks grumbled as he climbed to his feet. “You’re sayin’ you don’t want my funk messin’ up the bed. As in, you think I’m a dirty slob.”
“Oh shut up. I know you’re a dirty slob or I wouldn’t have had to remake the bed so many times already. And you do not have funk, at least not most of the time. All I’m asking for is one night without you eating or drinking in bed. That can’t be too….” Ben trailed off in the face of Shanks’ pronounced moue. “Alright, alright. Never mind. I can see that you’re set on continuing this irritating trend of midnight snacking. I guess you just don’t want me to sleep with you anymore.”
He was only two steps away from the door when Shanks caught hold of one hand.
“W-wait! I don’t want ya to not sleep with me. Can’t we just, I dunno, take a nap now or something? Would that be okay?”
Shanks’ fingers were warm as they twined with his own and tugged him backward. It was the middle of the day and there were chores to be seen to, inventory to be counted, and weapons practice to run, but they had a competent crew and he WAS rather tired after tossing and turning in uncomfortable bits of peanut shell and cookie pieces all last night.
“Very well. But NO snacks. I mean it. I want this nap to end without me having any crumbs or whatever embedded in my skin..”
The captain grinned up at him, fingers freeing themselves to begin nimbly stripping off already-loose clothing.
“No problem. The only hard bits you’ll be feelin’ in these new sheets’ll be me.”
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no subject
Date: 2005-11-27 10:14 pm (UTC)Hardbits. >D
no subject
Date: 2005-11-27 10:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-28 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-28 07:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-28 08:38 am (UTC)We ended up not buying the sheets because it was going to be $60 for the fitted and the flat, and despite still being a really great deal, I'm cheaper than that.
But we DO have goofy fights about Brian's inherent "man" funk and how I never get to sleep in a completely clean bed since we usually make the bed on Sunday and I have to go off to work while he goes to bed.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-28 01:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-02 09:39 pm (UTC)Oh shut up. I know you’re a dirty slob or I wouldn’t have had to remake the bed so many times already. Too cute!
“No problem. The only hard bits you’ll be feelin’ in these new sheets’ll be me.” Too pervy!