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Jul. 2nd, 2004 07:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsThis one's for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_bettina_ who wanted domestic JoLa. No real story to this one, just, you'll see.
“You know we could send those out, or the housekeeper would do it.”
Joey carefully sets the iron upright at the end of the board and looks at Lance who stands in the doorway watching him. “I know, but I want to wear these pants tonight. It’ll take me a few minutes to do myself, if that.” Picking up the iron again, Joey sprays his pants with water, then presses the iron to the fabric, blinking at the cloud of steam that results.
“You look good like that.”
Lance’s voice sounds slow and deep and Joey looks at him again in confusion, wondering what he sees that’s so good. It’s not like Joey’s wearing anything special, all he has on is a plain white cotton shirt that skims his thighs but that seems to be enough for Lance, who walks toward Joey with an obvious prowl.
They throw the pants away later; even the best tailor would be unable to fix the iron shaped hole in the leg.
~*~*~*~
“I told you, I know what I’m doing.”
Unconvinced, Joey leans against the wall, listening to the banging and cursing while watching the way Lance’s ass wiggles as he kneels under the sink. Joey still thinks it would be easier to phone a plumber but Lance is convinced he can fix the blockage and Joey’s prepared to let him try. He’ll do anything to make Lance happy and if that means indulging him as he tries to prove he can fix anything with the help of a good website, that’s what Joey will do. Even as he winces at every crash of wrench against pipes.
“Fuck!”
Joey lurches forward when water gushes from under the sink and there’s a distinct sound of Lance’s head hitting something solid. “Are you okay? Lance?”
“I’m fine.”
It’s hard to keep a straight face, but Joey uses any acting ability he has to stop laughing when Lance turns to face him, soaking wet and red in the face. Grabbing an armful of towels he throws the on the floor and helps Lance to his feet. Then gently kisses the bump on his head before heading for the phone.
It costs Joey triple what it should have done to fix the sink and repair the floorboards. He signs the bill without a second thought. Lance is worth it.
~*~*~*~
“Pass the mustard.”
Lance hands the mustard to Joey who smears it across a line of chops before putting them under the grill. Joey looks hot and wipes his face with the bottom of his tee-shirt, then takes a long drink of the beer Lance hands him before smiling his thanks.
“Do we have any more tomatoes?” Lance asks when he slices the last one and tosses it into the salad bowl. He's covered in juice and seeds that cling to his hands so Joey throws over a tea towel then looks in the fridge, rummaging in the salad drawer before handing over a paper bag full of bright red tomatoes. Picking up his knife Lance takes one then starts to slice again until the bowl is full.
“Are you ready for the dressing?”
“Yeah,” Lance pushes the bowl across the table, watching as Joey shakes the dressing bottle before sprinkling it over the salad while swaying his hips in time to his hand movements. Lance can’t help laughing, especially when he realises the movements are in exact time to a song on the radio. Joey looks up at the laughter and grins happily, exaggerating his hip movements until he’s dancing around the room holding the salad bowl.
Lance claps along and they’re both helpless with laughter when others walk in and the expressions on their faces only make them laugh more.
_bettina_ who wanted domestic JoLa. No real story to this one, just, you'll see.“You know we could send those out, or the housekeeper would do it.”
Joey carefully sets the iron upright at the end of the board and looks at Lance who stands in the doorway watching him. “I know, but I want to wear these pants tonight. It’ll take me a few minutes to do myself, if that.” Picking up the iron again, Joey sprays his pants with water, then presses the iron to the fabric, blinking at the cloud of steam that results.
“You look good like that.”
Lance’s voice sounds slow and deep and Joey looks at him again in confusion, wondering what he sees that’s so good. It’s not like Joey’s wearing anything special, all he has on is a plain white cotton shirt that skims his thighs but that seems to be enough for Lance, who walks toward Joey with an obvious prowl.
They throw the pants away later; even the best tailor would be unable to fix the iron shaped hole in the leg.
~*~*~*~
“I told you, I know what I’m doing.”
Unconvinced, Joey leans against the wall, listening to the banging and cursing while watching the way Lance’s ass wiggles as he kneels under the sink. Joey still thinks it would be easier to phone a plumber but Lance is convinced he can fix the blockage and Joey’s prepared to let him try. He’ll do anything to make Lance happy and if that means indulging him as he tries to prove he can fix anything with the help of a good website, that’s what Joey will do. Even as he winces at every crash of wrench against pipes.
“Fuck!”
Joey lurches forward when water gushes from under the sink and there’s a distinct sound of Lance’s head hitting something solid. “Are you okay? Lance?”
“I’m fine.”
It’s hard to keep a straight face, but Joey uses any acting ability he has to stop laughing when Lance turns to face him, soaking wet and red in the face. Grabbing an armful of towels he throws the on the floor and helps Lance to his feet. Then gently kisses the bump on his head before heading for the phone.
It costs Joey triple what it should have done to fix the sink and repair the floorboards. He signs the bill without a second thought. Lance is worth it.
~*~*~*~
“Pass the mustard.”
Lance hands the mustard to Joey who smears it across a line of chops before putting them under the grill. Joey looks hot and wipes his face with the bottom of his tee-shirt, then takes a long drink of the beer Lance hands him before smiling his thanks.
“Do we have any more tomatoes?” Lance asks when he slices the last one and tosses it into the salad bowl. He's covered in juice and seeds that cling to his hands so Joey throws over a tea towel then looks in the fridge, rummaging in the salad drawer before handing over a paper bag full of bright red tomatoes. Picking up his knife Lance takes one then starts to slice again until the bowl is full.
“Are you ready for the dressing?”
“Yeah,” Lance pushes the bowl across the table, watching as Joey shakes the dressing bottle before sprinkling it over the salad while swaying his hips in time to his hand movements. Lance can’t help laughing, especially when he realises the movements are in exact time to a song on the radio. Joey looks up at the laughter and grins happily, exaggerating his hip movements until he’s dancing around the room holding the salad bowl.
Lance claps along and they’re both helpless with laughter when others walk in and the expressions on their faces only make them laugh more.
