Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Philkas Week
Stats:
Published:
2017-01-04
Words:
1,036
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
5
Kudos:
89
Bookmarks:
7
Hits:
1,325

Mudslides

Summary:

Philkas Week: Day 1
Prompt: Domestic

Teenage boys do as teenage boys do: get dirty, sorta kinda clean up, and discuss Star Wars.

Notes:

Title dedicated to my lil bro who got drunk on mudslides on new years and couldn’t get the door to the house open, lol what a loser.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It happened over the course of an hour. That mid-June cerulean with wisps of cotton-a perfect back drop-was invaded by rolling black. Philip had already begun waving Lukas off (rain shoots were great but this looked bad) when the sky let loose. It took a few minutes to soak his blue-green tee, clinging to his cooling skin. His jeans were no better.

Lukas pulled up, tossing Philip's helmet and motioning to get on. Any sound was lost in the rush of rain and the boom of thunder off in the distance. They’d been there for a few good hours now, after the morning chores were finished, so there was enough footage to call it in anyway. Philip was glad he stored his bike by the hen pen, away from the downpour when he got there earlier.

Lukas was steadily being soaked through, even with his padding and chest plate. Philip swung his leg over, held on tighter, before they set off back to the Waldenbeck house. Mud kicked up with the spin of the wheels and soon their legs were caked.

 

They took off their sodden shoes and socks, Lukas' gear too, on the porch before heading inside. The house was empty with Bo off in Poughkeepsie and his blessing to use the house as they pleased (within reason). Lukas still got wide-eyed at his dad's acceptance (slow and steady wins the race).

"Shit." Lukas' helmet had been a fairly effective shield but everything else was cold and clingy. Mud dripped from his pants on the wooden floor. He’d have to clean it up and they couldn’t go tracking it around the rest of the house. Philip felt drenched, his fringe sticking to his forehead. He shivered, teeth chattering as he attempted to rub away the goosebumps on his arms. He blinked as Lukas shucked his pants right there, long legs stark in the dim light.

“Wha-"

“We’re gonna have to clean here anyway." Lukas toed his pants in their pile on the floor, nose scrunched in disgust.

Philip raised an eyebrow, “There’s other ways of getting me naked.” He couldn't help the tease, even if he'd rather burrow under 100 blankets right about now. He pulled off his own jeans, too wet, and dropped them on the floor.

“Not now, dude.” Lukas laughed, “I feel cold and gross. Let’s go dry off upstairs, get some clothes." He looked back at the muddy floor, “And clean this up.” A hand smacked Philip’s legs and he yelped before reaching out to pinch Lukas’ arm. They raced up the stairs, in want of warmth, laughter filling the empty space.

 

The room's windows were opaque, rain pattering against the glass and a lightning strike appearing as a blurred slice of light against inky black.

"Catch!", Philip only had a split second before red cotton obscured his vision. A flash of a memory, a beer slipping through his fingers. He smiled and flipped the towel after patting his face, rubbing through wet strands.

"Thanks."

Lukas smirked, remembering that same moment. His own clothes were tossed and a blue towel wiping away any clammy feelings. Philip saw pale skin disappear under dry cotton -a shiver chasing away any disappointment. Still too cold.

He set the towel aside and peeled off his own clothes, placing them in the hamper. Lukas, clad in some flannels and an old motocross jersey, tossed a pair of boxers, an old sweatshirt and sweats over. Philip felt eyes on him as pulled them on, until- Red obscured his vision again. Hands rubbed the towel through his hair before revealing Lukas' smiling face and then lips met his own, soft. Philip hummed and pushed into it for a few moments.

"Movie? " Lukas' eyes were that sky blue, before the clouds descended.

“After cleaning?”, Philip smirked, knowing Lukas would try to put it off.

A sigh, "Fine."

"Which Star Wars are we on now?"

"Whichever one where Anakin is being a little bitch. Probably the third movie."

"Hey.", Philip protested, "The Jedi Council were assholes."

"Got a thing for the future Darth Vader?", Lukas said with a teasing smile, nudging Philip with his shoulder.

Philip rolled his eyes. "Maybe I just have thing for overly dramatic blonds.", Philip snickered, already dodging towards the door.

"Shut up," Lukas swatted him with the towel, grin too big and too warm as he followed after.

 

The rumble of the washer started up as Philip mixed the floor cleaner: two parts water, one part lemon wash.

"I'll do that. You can go set up the movie. I'll grab some blankets when this is done." Lukas entered, sliding the door to the laundry room shut. He grasped the mop before plunging it in, bubbles rising up to the edge of the bucket.

With the movie popped in and the unskippable trailers playing on low, Philip moved to watch Lukas slide the mop across the wood. His blond hair was spun gold when caught in the soft light of the lamp nearby.

Then a mop was almost touching his feet.

"Hey!" Philip jumped back, laughter following in his wake. Lukas had a gleam in his eyes. They continued like this for awhile, Philip dancing back as Lukas pushed the mop towards him until the whole floor of the entrance had been covered, gleaming and Philip was trapped in a corner. "Unfair.", Philip conceded.

All he got was a grin in response before the mop was leaned against the wall and hands were gently pushing him back. Long fingers cupped his hips as Lukas stepped in close, Philip tilted his head back to meet too blue eyes.

"Hi." Philip leaned up, nose bumping Lukas' and he felt warmth bubble up inside. (They could have this.) He curled his fingers in the hem of the old jersey, worn soft.

"Hey." Lukas bridged the gap, pressing their lips together- a slow slide as their smiles met. He pulled back to bring a hand up, cupping Philip's jaw before sliding past into brown waves.

The house smelled of lemon. The faint murmur of another trailer flashed across the television, adding to the storm concerto as their lips met once again, hands tangled in hair and pressed against warmed skin.

Notes:

My work for the second prompt might be turning into a monster of a fic so I need to wrangle it under control.

Hope you enjoyed!

Series this work belongs to: