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rvTitle: Pancakes
Rating: So G it hurts
Warnings: Fluffy brotimes
Words: 405
Series: Serve No God [original]
Pairings/Characters: Dominique, Dimitri, and their mom
“No, Dom, you have to do this!”
“Wha—but I don’t like syrup, you dummy!”
“Everyone likes syrup!”
“I don’t!”
“Twins like syrup.”
“Who said?”
“Mama.”
Dominique scoffed as well as an 8-year-old could, and crossed his arms. “Mama never said that!”
Dimitri puffed out his cheeks and glared at him. “Yes she did!”
“When?”
“Yesterday!”
The twins stared at each other, each pair of gray eyes narrowed at the other. There was a period of unspoken arguing, the battle having been, instead, taken to the staring contest. Without either of them noticing, the tall blond figure of their mother prodded into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of her sons.
She always knew they were odd, but this took the cake, for now, at least. She giggled behind her hand, and was endlessly amused as her sons broke their gazes and turned to her in flawless unison. Honestly, she didn’t think having twins would be such fun. A handful, yes, but always fun.
“Are you boys fighting again?” she mused, returning to her mission through the kitchen. Dimitri gaped at her and pointed at Dominique the instant Dominique resided himself to slumping in his chair, no longer desiring to be a part of the situation.
“He said we aren’t twins, mama!”
It was then Dominique’s turn to gape. “I never said that! I just said twins don’t all like syrup on their pancakes!”
“But you said—”
“Dimitri, you’re so dumb!”
Their mother spun and pointed a wooden spoon at them. “Dominique, what did I say about using that word?”
Dominique managed to slide deeper into the depths of his seat. “Not to…” he mumbled, blushing. Having to listen to Dimitri laugh at him did nothing to mend his sour embarrassment.
“Exactly. And you, Dimitri.”
Dimitri ceased his laughter.
“If Dominique says ‘no,’ then he means ‘no.’ Okay?”
The younger of the twins pouted, and, too, slid deep into his seat. “Yes, mama…”
“Good!” She stared sternly at her sons, the wooden spoon still pointed at them. Then, as if the scolding had never happened, she perked up, giggled, and flipped a lock of her hair over her shoulder. “Now who wants to help me make some more pancakes for daddy? I’m sure he’d love some from his two favorite boys.”
Dominique and Dimitri both leapt from their seats, stumbling to reach their mother first, shouting, “I do, I do!” all the while.
Rating: So G it hurts
Warnings: Fluffy brotimes
Words: 405
Series: Serve No God [original]
Pairings/Characters: Dominique, Dimitri, and their mom
“No, Dom, you have to do this!”
“Wha—but I don’t like syrup, you dummy!”
“Everyone likes syrup!”
“I don’t!”
“Twins like syrup.”
“Who said?”
“Mama.”
Dominique scoffed as well as an 8-year-old could, and crossed his arms. “Mama never said that!”
Dimitri puffed out his cheeks and glared at him. “Yes she did!”
“When?”
“Yesterday!”
The twins stared at each other, each pair of gray eyes narrowed at the other. There was a period of unspoken arguing, the battle having been, instead, taken to the staring contest. Without either of them noticing, the tall blond figure of their mother prodded into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of her sons.
She always knew they were odd, but this took the cake, for now, at least. She giggled behind her hand, and was endlessly amused as her sons broke their gazes and turned to her in flawless unison. Honestly, she didn’t think having twins would be such fun. A handful, yes, but always fun.
“Are you boys fighting again?” she mused, returning to her mission through the kitchen. Dimitri gaped at her and pointed at Dominique the instant Dominique resided himself to slumping in his chair, no longer desiring to be a part of the situation.
“He said we aren’t twins, mama!”
It was then Dominique’s turn to gape. “I never said that! I just said twins don’t all like syrup on their pancakes!”
“But you said—”
“Dimitri, you’re so dumb!”
Their mother spun and pointed a wooden spoon at them. “Dominique, what did I say about using that word?”
Dominique managed to slide deeper into the depths of his seat. “Not to…” he mumbled, blushing. Having to listen to Dimitri laugh at him did nothing to mend his sour embarrassment.
“Exactly. And you, Dimitri.”
Dimitri ceased his laughter.
“If Dominique says ‘no,’ then he means ‘no.’ Okay?”
The younger of the twins pouted, and, too, slid deep into his seat. “Yes, mama…”
“Good!” She stared sternly at her sons, the wooden spoon still pointed at them. Then, as if the scolding had never happened, she perked up, giggled, and flipped a lock of her hair over her shoulder. “Now who wants to help me make some more pancakes for daddy? I’m sure he’d love some from his two favorite boys.”
Dominique and Dimitri both leapt from their seats, stumbling to reach their mother first, shouting, “I do, I do!” all the while.
