Disclaimer: WA belongs to Kazuya Minekura! Not me.
Rating: G for fluff
Warnings: BL (but you're in the wrong fandom if you don't know that!), drabble-ness, fluff
Author's Note: My first WA fic! Practice of getting inside Tokitoh's head~
Tokitoh doesn't like being alone in the apartment. When he's alone, he's always waiting, whether he'd admit it or not, because without Kubota there, it doesn't feel like home, it doesn't feel like his. It's just a box with a floor and a ceiling, among many other boxes with floors and ceilings, and he almost feels like he ought to go, to skitter out onto the streets and crouch in the alley like the stray that he knows he is and wait in the cold. But he knows Kubota wouldn't hear of that, and he himself doesn't want to, either. It's just an urge. Which he ignores.
And so he waits. He fidgets, does things for brief periods: washes not-quite-half the dishes, starts a video game, takes off his jacket, flips channels on TV, eats half a carton of ice cream, puts his jacket halfway back on, paces, plays another part of a different video game, runs a bath, lays down on the couch, flips channels again. His attention span is too short and he's fidgety, he never finishes what he's doing, he enters one room just to exit again, forgetting his purpose. Only one thing is really on his mind and there's nothing he can do to distract himself.
Eventually, always too late, Kubota waltzes in, a cigarette hanging from his lips, his glasses slightly off-kilter, his clothing wrinkled, smelling of incense and cigarette smoke and a few things on which Tokitoh can't put his finger No matter what he's just started, Tokitoh jumps up, leaving his last activity unfinished as the rest, to greet his "roommate" with a whine, and what took him so long, and why is he so late?
Kubota simply presses a plastic bag into Tokitoh's hand with a "For you" and walks right past, collapsing on the sofa and flipping on the TV, immediately settling on one show and staring at it.
"What's this?" Tokitoh asks, taking a step towards where Kubota now lounges and peering into the bag.
"The new ice cream that you asked for." Kubota's eyes do not move from the TV set.
Tokitoh takes the carton and discards the plastic bag to the floor. "... I didn't ask you to pick up anything, Kubo-chan."
Kubota glances to him. "You saw the ad in a magazine yesterday. You said it looked good."
Tokitoh breaks into a grin. "I remember now," he says, nimbly crossing the room and curling up like the kitten he knows he is against Kubota and purring because he does remember, he remembers why he's not a stray anymore, and this is his home.