Characters: Ryo, Dee.
Setting: After Like, Like, Love.
Summary: Living together, Ryo discovers, means sharing more than just a home.
Word Count: 503
Written For: My own prompt ‘FAKE, Dee/Ryo, Sharing,’ at fic_promptly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh
Living together, Ryo discovered after moving in with Dee, wasn’t just a matter of sharing an apartment and a bed. It was more of a ‘what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine’ situation, which took a bit of getting used to. Ryo had grown up an only child; everything that had belonged to him was his alone. Dee, on the other hand, had grown up in an orphanage with a bunch of other kids of various ages. Sharing had been a way of life, with clothes being handed down and most toys being communal property.
It wasn’t that Ryo even minded Dee borrowing or using his things; it just felt… strange. Then again, since they were living together, why should their things be kept separate? Books went on the bookshelves, and who bought which didn’t matter since they both got to enjoy reading them. The same was true of their CDs and DVDs, even if there were some differences in their musical tastes.
Most of the kitchen gadgets and more than half of the pots and pans originated from Ryo’s kitchen in his old apartment, but he was teaching Dee to cook things other than barbecue, or grilled cheese, and they both needed to eat. Towels and bedding were also household items, used by both of them, with no distinction between which belonged to whom.
Where the sharing got weird was when it came down to clothes, something that wouldn’t have been much of an issue if they’d been man and woman rather that two men with a only a few inches difference in height. Dee was a little taller, and a little heavier, with slightly longer legs, so wearing each other’s suits wouldn’t work because the fit was all-important, but shirts, t-shirts, sweatpants, and sweaters all seemed to be fair game, except for a few items they each owned in colors that didn’t suit the other’s complexion.
Belts and ties were generally interchangeable, and Ryo quickly discovered, since they had similar tastes in underwear, that with a few exceptions, much of the time it was impossible to tell which of them a particular pair of boxer shorts or socks belonged to. Labelling everything with their names was pointless; everything went in the laundry together anyway and came out clean, so did it really matter which of them wore them next? Considering how intimate they were with each other on an almost daily basis, Ryo figured that no, it didn’t, so having separate underwear and sock drawers made no sense either. At least it saved time when sorting laundry.
In the end, about the only thing that never got shared were their shoes, and that was probably only because Ryo’s feet were a size and a half smaller than Dee’s.
Sprawled on the sofa, sharing the last bottle of beer, passing it back and forth between them as they unwound after work by watching a movie, Ryo decided that all this sharing with Dee really wasn’t a bad thing at all.