shi-no-toge:

hanakotobawakodoku:

Entirely unaware that he had an audience, Eric kept it up. His movements were fluid, hips inspired to sway with the music and feet bouncing against the bed in time. Yes, he was the sort to go about dancing on his bed. And while he wasn’t bad at it, it seemed his balance needed a little work — for one wrong step and he was sent (in a fit of loud shouts and cursing) tumbling to the ground with a crash. Sheets tangled around his legs and hair disheveled.

Alan flushed. “Ah, well, yes… can’t be getting food on my jumpers when I cook.” He poured the soup into a small bowl and turned off the oven, placing the pot in the sink. He removed the apron and returned to the table carefully with his soup. He felt the teapot. “Hmmm… seems the tea stayed warm enough.” He poured two cups, pushing one in front of Eric with a smile. “Here you are.” he said. He took a spoonful of soup and blew on it before taking a sip. “Mm…”

Eric took a sip off his tea, eyes on the apron with a bit of curiosity. He pushed up from his chair and set down the tea. “Le’s see.” He said, plucking up the apron. “How would I look, I wonder…?"