Dutchy muttered something very impolite under his breath. He hated cleaning of any kind, especially spring cleaning. Never fail, every year, as long as they had known each other Bumlets had set aside a weekend during his month of spring cleaning to tackle Dutchy's bedroom. Perhaps it was a good thing; it was, after all, the only time of year Dutchy's room ever did get cleaned.
It had started when they were seven and continued through high school, even worse senior year when they had started dating. He had thought he would have gotten out of it last year what with Bumlets being busy with several papers and living all the way across campus. Last year, well last, year had been awful.
This year Dutchy and Bumlets were rooming together so Dutchy's room had stayed rather clean. The study room on the other hand… well Dutch was the only one who used it so it was uninhabitable.
And today Bumlets had chosen to clean it. As Dutchy sorted through the dust-covered CD covers and several old papers, and blue books, and even a notebook or two he started sneezing. It did not help that the windows were wide open. Allergies were lovely weren't day. They were making Dutchy miserable, he hadn't worn his contacts all week and his eyes were so bloodshot he didn't dare risk putting them in.
He quickly stacked the worthless items by need. CDs in one pile, papers and blue books in another, and notebooks into the trash can. He had almost half the table cleared when the sneezing started, one after another with barely any time to catch his breath.
"Fuck!" he finally cursed during a break. He sneezed again and dropped the papers in his hand to the floor, taking a seat on the table.
He scoured the room; his boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.
"Bumlets!" he yelled.
"Shut up, I'm coming."
Bumlets appeared a second later with a glass of water and a box of Kleenex. He threw the box at Dutchy.
"Thanks," Dutchy mumbled. He wiped at his nose and snatched the water, draining most of it quickly.
"That was for me," Bumlets complained, snatching the glass back.
"Sorry." Dutchy said shortly. He looked at Bumlets' side of the room. It was nearly spotless. Dutchy still had piles to clear out and sort through.
"What's with the attitude?" Bumlets asked.
"I want to be out drinking with the guys, not in here cleaning out stuff that can all just get shoved in the garbage." What could he say, that was what he always did with his Saturday nights and here he was cleaning.
"So you can show up drunk again like last weekend?" Bumlets inquired with a frown, "Yeah, that was real fun."
"Oh lay off."
"Here, he handed Dutchy a stack of papers. Most of them were graded and well put together. "These looked important. I'm going to go clean the kitchen."
"Bumlets…" Dutchy tried to start but the dark-haired boy left the room.
Dutchy heaved a sigh. They both got like this, irritable. Each had things they could not stand about the other. Dutchy could not stand Bumlets during the spring cleaning season and Bumlets always hated him during the playoffs and World Series, especially when the Sox were playing the Yankees.
He picked up papers and CDs from the floor, and the piles grew. He could hear Bumlets' emo music playing from the kitchen and grinned. For someone so upbeat and optimistic his boy sure had funny taste in music.
Finally all the stuff left on the floor belonged to Spot and Race. He smirked; Race had been looking for his lacrosse stick. And Spot must have been wearing Race's shirts a lot more because there had to be about a dozen on the floor.
He walked to the doorway of the kitchen to talk to Bumlets. Instead he just watched. Bumlets was very absorbed in his music. He was swaying from side to side as he wiped down the counters and table with a sponge, singing along with the radio. Dutchy couldn't help but grin.
He walked up behind Bumlets and wrapped two arms around his waist, kissing his neck lightly. "I'm sorry I was a jackass."
Bumlets turned around, "you're always a jackass. I'm used to it."
Dutchy tried to frown but it came out as a giggle. Bumlets' perfect hair was covered in dust, which showed up quite clearly due to its color.
"What?" Bumlets asked.
"Dust bunnies are hiding in your hair." Without asking permission Dutchy reached up and ran his fingers through Bumlets' hair in an effort to get the dust and fuzz out.
When Bumlets' finger poked him sharply in the ribs he dropped his arms and looked down, only to have his lips caught by Bumlets'.
Oh, this was nice.
Oh yes, especially when Bumlets did that thing with his tongue.
Suddenly Dutchy felt the urge to sneeze. It must have been the dust from Bumlets' hair. He pushed himself out of his boyfriends arm and wrinkled his nose. Maybe it would go away.
"Achoo!" he sneezed loudly, and followed it up with another two sneezed. "Fuckin' a."
"You're so cute when you scrunch up your nose," Bumlets teased.
Dutchy made a face and backed up against the counter only to have Bumlets press up against him and start kissing him again.
"You're not mad at me?" Dutchy asked as Bumlets' lips started to raise a bruise on his neck.
"Not as long as that room is spotless."
"Spot and Race have stuff in there." He told him. "So that means we're done?"
Bumlets pulled back and looked at the blond as though he had grown a second head.
"Have you seen your desk in our room?"
Dutchy bit his lip, it was a tad disorganized. Mumbling a few incoherent remarks he followed Bumlets into their bedroom. The Hispanic boy was already setting to work on pulling sheets off of their bed.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm gonna do laundry in the morning."
"But I just put those on the bed Monday. They're not dirty."
"It fits with the cleaning schedule," Bumlets said, tossing a pillow to the floor.
Suddenly Dutchy got a very good idea. He had all weekend; the desk could wait until the next morning. He dropped the books he had been attempting to pile on top of the desk with a loud thud. As Bumlets started to turn around Dutchy tackled him to the bed. He planted himself firmly atop the other boy with a smirk.
Bumlets raised an eyebrow, "Dutch?"
"At least this way the sheets will need to be washed." Dutchy waggled his eyebrows suggestively. With that he pressed his lips tightly over Bumlets'. Bumlets didn't protest in the least.
When Spot and Race came back to the apartment several hours later all they could hear was the interesting noises coming from Dutchy and Bumlets' room. Race smirked, "Man, with the way the two of them act around spring cleaning time… It's no wonder the idea of spring cleaning makes me horny."
"Does it?" Spot asked, raising an eyebrow, "That's pathetic."
Race shook his head, "You didn't see the photo Dutchy gave Bumlets last year before spring cleaning started."
Spot's eyebrow rose higher.
Race just laughed and walked past him, remembering the picture of Dutchy in one of those little French maid uniforms, with a feather duster in one hand and a bouquet of roses in the other. Scrawled messily were the words, Sorry in advance for my allergenic bitchiness. XOXO, Dutchy. Yes, he could definitely understand why Bumlets looked forward to spring cleaning so much.