Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Clean ❯ Clean ( Chapter 1 )

There are few pleasures more innocent, more simple, than this one simple act. The warmth covered my hands in cottony softness as the scent of spring freshness filled my olfactory senses. My god, this is bliss.

Isn't it too bad that you have to deal with the stench of your own underwear and soiled towels to create the joy that is clean laundry?

The stack of clean towels are now firmly in my hands, meaning that I am well armed to spend the next hour or so in the shower and subsequent bath. Even when I was a young child, I loved bath time, and more so now that I am in High School.

There is logic in how the traditional Japanese bath is arranged, and I've never once doubted that it's the best. One washes the dirt of the day off either sitting on a bench, or under the therapeutic heat of a blazing shower, and relaxes neck-high in clean water afterwards. The humidity in that tile-sealed room always makes it comfortable, mimicking in its own way the safety of the womb.

Yes, I realize that's an odd comparison, but that is completely the purpose of my brief vacation. Small pleasures are important when life has nothing better to do than kick you in the ass with repetitive motion and much force. My intention is to live it up by doing nothing more by cleaning the shit of the day off of my flesh.

A faint whimper from the bed distracts me. My partner stirs, mumbling odd phrases regarding some school activity or another. Laughter would not be a good idea, since I intend to let 'Sleeping Beauty' continue resting. It's a shame too, since that angelic face is practically screaming to be kissed; that body begging to be touched as it was last night.

Ah, you have me delusional, you know. Can you blame me?

It's best if I don't watch you too long, koishi. The previous night's activities have me dirty and well....stinky. How do you expect me to live with myself when I smell like I've just run a marathon? Would it excite you if hands that were impeccably spotless on any other day covered you in the bodily fluids now covering them? Actually, I doubt it would bother you, since you are covered in them as well.

What a delicious thought!

Tearing my gaze away from your sleeping form is nearly inconceivable, but I do so with reluctance, heading into the tiled room. My destination is the shower, which with a simple turn of the knob and a pull of a lever, results in a heated waterfall promising relaxation of tired aching muscles.

My ritual has always been to turn the showerhead aside, so that I can step into the stall without droplets spraying onto the tiled floor outside. It delays my reward only by a few moments, only long enough to step in and close the door. Soon, the shower is pointed directly at my hair, soon weighing the length to rest against the top of my shoulders.

That is one of my vanities, I'm afraid. Yes, I know it's been said that I have a body that most would die to either have or hold onto, but my hair has always been one of my favorite features, for the way it brings out the deep colors in my eyes, and how it always seems to behave the command of my brush and multiple styling products.

There is no need for rushing as I shampoo my mane multiple times, making sure all the gel, sweat, and other fluids are cleansed from the strands. Conditioner will be applied afterwards, for the sake of making sure that this asset remains "Shiny and Vibrant", as the bottle advertises. It occurs to me that this smells nothing like green tea, though still pleasant. After a few moments, the thicker cream is washed and left to slide down into the drain.

My next target is the dark green bath pouf, which is coated in the green thickness oozing from the bottle, also carrying this supposed green tea scent. What better place to begin scrubbing, but that part that gives me the most difficulty, the center of my back. Oh, what I'd give for a bath brush! The place continues to elude my reach, despite the angle I attack it from.

Brrr! The sudden blast of chilled air brushes against my warm skin, sending a shiver along my spinal column. In moments, the pouf is snatched from my hands. Stronger calloused hands turn me to have me lean against the porcelain tile on the shower wall, and once in position I am scrubbed across the back.

To quote the American beer commercial, "It doesn't get much better than this."

The contact is broken too soon, as my drowsy partner steps under the fountain. The mass of hair is soon held flat against the darker skin, warm eyes turning to look me over in an appraising manner.

"Too bad you had to get cleaned up so soon. I plan on getting you all sweaty again, since I must not have worn you out last night."

I snort at my drenched amour, making a slight face.

"No, but I sure wore you out. You just can't keep up."

I'm rewarded for my jab by the pouf being tossed at my face. I toss it over my shoulder, taking the container of liquid soap in hand. Our hands found each others' arms, taking turns forming the falsely named green tea scent into each other's damp skin.

Urgent lips found mine, a hot male body pressing mine against the tile behind me. Those strong hands found my rear, lifting me higher....

I'm pleasantly sore when he's done, and no cleaner than when I entered the bath. Ah well. I'm not really complaining.

This time, when we begin bathing each other, we finish the task, soon rinsing the suds and grime away.

"You're staring at me." I speak the words over the roar of the shower.

"You're beautiful." My love simply states this. The warmth creeping into my cheeks is not caused by the shower. "And you're blushing. Kawaaaaaaai!"

"You're terrible." With little effort, the sliding door is opened. "Turn off the shower, will you?"

I hear compliance in the sudden silence that permeates the area. The only thing to follow is the muffled splash associated with his wet footprints. He's too slow, as I have already made my solitary way to drown my body from the shoulders down in warmth.

Moments after my submersion, the water level rose considerably, followed by a playful splash.

"The bath is supposed to be relaxing, baka." I do my best to give him an icy stare, but the apology on his face is enough to make me crack a smirk, at least. "Fine, fine."

The soak is made much more pleasurable as I am pulled to my lover's side, held loosely in his strong arms.

"This is too big to keep to ourselves, you know. We've been hiding it for over a month." His voice drops to a whisper as his fingers meet mine, linking tightly.

"Taichi." His name leaves my lips in a hiss as hands run across my chest, and down my abdomen. "No, secrets are no longer an option."

I am trembling now, as long digits find their target. "Taichi....!"

"Do you love me?" The words are spoken, indicating that our activities are far from over.

I can only answer, expecting his reply. I offer him my soul with the words, knowing full well he would clean it of impurities, and keep it safe.

"Forever, Taichi."

"Aishiteru, Yamato."

End.