![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scriveynerTitle: Build a Snowman
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Babyfic
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi, Masanori, Keiko
Rating: T
Length: 745
Summary: “I lost the snowball fight,” Gotou said. “Badly.”
“Up,” Masanori demanded, his arms held upright. He was covered in snow, white powder clinging to his coat and pants, scarf lost somewhere out in the yard. “Up, up!”
Masayoshi picked his son up and held him against his hip. His hat had managed to survive the trauma of playing outside in fresh snow, but it too was covered in snow. “What happened?” he asked, brushing snow off of the red knit cap. “I wasn’t even gone a half hour!”
“Papa needs help,” Masanori said, mittens trying to find purchase on Masayoshi’s coat.
“Uh-oh,” Masayoshi said, stepping off the porch into the small backyard of the house Gotou grew up in. They were visiting his mother the week before Christmas, and had been surprised to be snowed in by the second night. “Did Keiko bury Papa in the snow again?”
Masanori nodded his head, wisps of light brown hair escaping from under the hat Moe had bought him last year. It had fox ears on it, and had long tassels that ended in bobs, just the right size for Masanori to chew on when he got upset or agitated. “She’s gonna destroy the city!”
“Rrawr!” came from a corner of the yard, and Masayoshi headed in that direction. Keiko, all of six years old, had made easily two dozen snowball-sized blobs in the snow, and was currently stalking around them, body tilted forward and elbows against her sides, hands curled into claws. She stomped around, roared, and proceeded to stomp on one of the blobs of snow. Masanori made an upset noise against Masayoshi’s chest.
“What’s going on here?” Masayoshi asked. “Surely the dreaded Keiko-saur isn’t stomping on innocent citizens.”
Keiko didn’t untuck her arms from their curled, claw-like position. “They’re bad guys,” she said emphatically, and roared again before kicking a clump over. Masayoshi watched her demolish her little colony of bad snow blobs.
“Where’s your papa?” he asked after a while, Masanori making little injured sounds every time a snow blob met with a violent end. “Masanori said he needed help.”
“Went to smoke,” she said, smushing a snow blob between her “claws” without untucking her elbows from her sides. She looked up suddenly, eyes wide. “Oops.”
Masayoshi sighed and Masanori wiggled against him, wanting down now. He let Masanori down, and he started scooping snow into a pile. “Not bad guys,” he told Keiko insistently, who was already eyeing a fresh conquest. Masayoshi kept half an eye on them as he walked to the fence that delineated the property line. From the other side of the gate he could now see the smoke rising to the wintry afternoon sky. “You know,” Masayoshi said, “I thought you said you were giving that up.”
There was a small startled noise, and then Gotou’s head appeared over the fence. He had clearly been sitting down against it, out of sight, and his hair was wet; he’d obviously been doused in snow at least once. He looked only a little guilty. “I fell off the wagon,” he said, as Masayoshi held out his hand for the package. Gotou didn’t relinquish it. “How are they doing?”
“Keiko is doing her level best to wipe out the entire Neo Red Axe rogues’ gallery,” Masayoshi said. “What happened to you?”
“I lost the snowball fight,” Gotou said. “Badly.”
“Well, your assistance is requested,” Masayoshi said. “Because I want to make a FlamenRobo snowman, and I can’t do that on my own.” He grinned, and Gotou sighed dramatically, putting his cigarette out.
“Why can’t we make a Harakiri Sunshine snowman this year?” he asked, opening the gate to step back through.
“We’ll let the kids decide,” Masayoshi linked his arm with Gotou’s, and Gotou groaned.
“They’ll want to make that stupid snowman from that stupid movie again,” he said.
Masayoshi kissed the side of his head and laughed.
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Babyfic
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi, Masanori, Keiko
Rating: T
Length: 745
Summary: “I lost the snowball fight,” Gotou said. “Badly.”
“Up,” Masanori demanded, his arms held upright. He was covered in snow, white powder clinging to his coat and pants, scarf lost somewhere out in the yard. “Up, up!”
Masayoshi picked his son up and held him against his hip. His hat had managed to survive the trauma of playing outside in fresh snow, but it too was covered in snow. “What happened?” he asked, brushing snow off of the red knit cap. “I wasn’t even gone a half hour!”
“Papa needs help,” Masanori said, mittens trying to find purchase on Masayoshi’s coat.
“Uh-oh,” Masayoshi said, stepping off the porch into the small backyard of the house Gotou grew up in. They were visiting his mother the week before Christmas, and had been surprised to be snowed in by the second night. “Did Keiko bury Papa in the snow again?”
Masanori nodded his head, wisps of light brown hair escaping from under the hat Moe had bought him last year. It had fox ears on it, and had long tassels that ended in bobs, just the right size for Masanori to chew on when he got upset or agitated. “She’s gonna destroy the city!”
“Rrawr!” came from a corner of the yard, and Masayoshi headed in that direction. Keiko, all of six years old, had made easily two dozen snowball-sized blobs in the snow, and was currently stalking around them, body tilted forward and elbows against her sides, hands curled into claws. She stomped around, roared, and proceeded to stomp on one of the blobs of snow. Masanori made an upset noise against Masayoshi’s chest.
“What’s going on here?” Masayoshi asked. “Surely the dreaded Keiko-saur isn’t stomping on innocent citizens.”
Keiko didn’t untuck her arms from their curled, claw-like position. “They’re bad guys,” she said emphatically, and roared again before kicking a clump over. Masayoshi watched her demolish her little colony of bad snow blobs.
“Where’s your papa?” he asked after a while, Masanori making little injured sounds every time a snow blob met with a violent end. “Masanori said he needed help.”
“Went to smoke,” she said, smushing a snow blob between her “claws” without untucking her elbows from her sides. She looked up suddenly, eyes wide. “Oops.”
Masayoshi sighed and Masanori wiggled against him, wanting down now. He let Masanori down, and he started scooping snow into a pile. “Not bad guys,” he told Keiko insistently, who was already eyeing a fresh conquest. Masayoshi kept half an eye on them as he walked to the fence that delineated the property line. From the other side of the gate he could now see the smoke rising to the wintry afternoon sky. “You know,” Masayoshi said, “I thought you said you were giving that up.”
There was a small startled noise, and then Gotou’s head appeared over the fence. He had clearly been sitting down against it, out of sight, and his hair was wet; he’d obviously been doused in snow at least once. He looked only a little guilty. “I fell off the wagon,” he said, as Masayoshi held out his hand for the package. Gotou didn’t relinquish it. “How are they doing?”
“Keiko is doing her level best to wipe out the entire Neo Red Axe rogues’ gallery,” Masayoshi said. “What happened to you?”
“I lost the snowball fight,” Gotou said. “Badly.”
“Well, your assistance is requested,” Masayoshi said. “Because I want to make a FlamenRobo snowman, and I can’t do that on my own.” He grinned, and Gotou sighed dramatically, putting his cigarette out.
“Why can’t we make a Harakiri Sunshine snowman this year?” he asked, opening the gate to step back through.
“We’ll let the kids decide,” Masayoshi linked his arm with Gotou’s, and Gotou groaned.
“They’ll want to make that stupid snowman from that stupid movie again,” he said.
Masayoshi kissed the side of his head and laughed.
