24 August 2012

winryweiss: (Default)
A sudden,unexpected idea, fill for this prompt.
Warnings : heavily implied Haddock/Tintin.

Bull's-eye

It was wonderful summer day. Sun shined brightly, but the wind blown softly during whole day, so the heat was absent. So were the rain, storm, explosions, kidnappers, and certain intrusive insurance salesman. Simply perfect day.
Nestor was just washing the dishes, silently pondering what beverage would master Haddock appreciate this evening.
Then it happened. Pained and surprised scream reverberated through house so suddenly, that Nestor almost dropped the plate. He was already used to Captain’s unexpected bursts of yelling, but this time it was master Tintin’s voice. So the butler returned dishware piece back to sink and stripping off his rubber gloves he set off quickly, but with proper mannered slowness, towards the winter garden, where his masters had retired after supper.
The scene there was … interesting.
Master Tintin was hopping around the winter garden, rubbing his rear and cursing, actually vulgarly cursing. The table was on ground, apparently knocked over, and same fate happened to both chairs. Captain was kneeling amongst the abused furniture, laughing so hard that he was actually crying, holding his stomach. Snowy was hiding behind plant pot, bemused by absence of enemies who would try to harm its beloved masters.
“Oh. Ow. Damn. Crumbs. Thundering barnacles. It hurts. It stings.”
“Ya know, laddie.” Captain had finally calmed down. “That’s what wasp’s stings do.”
“But it fu…frigging hurts.”
“Awww. Let me kiss it better.”
“Ehm.” Nestor decided to intervene. “Do I presume right, that master Tintin was bitten by insect?”
“I got stung by wasp.” Tintin moaned.
“Don’t complain. Ya got stung to ass, but that poor thing had to die.”
“On whose side are you?”
“Well, sirs, I guess I will bring the first aid kit.” Nestor turned, heading to utility chamber to obtain the item needed, allowing himself a small smile.
“Oh, Nestor.”
“Yes, sir?” The faithful butler turned back to his masters, mask of neutral expression once again covering his face.
“Bring along some ice cubes, will ya?”
“Sir?”
“We would need to soothe the pain away, won’t we, laddie?”
Tintin mouth hung open with surprise as a huge blush spread up to his ears. “Oh.” Is all he managed to say, pain from sting immediately forgotten.
“Very well, sir.” Nestor was glad, that he had made such a big supply of earplugs. Master Tintin tends to be very vocal during sexual activities. And, judging from Captain’s evil smirk, this time even the Professor will hear.

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