Shorties

For someone as lazy as Demyx, it never ceased to amaze Zexion how rare it was to see his boyfriend neglecting his trademark hairstyle.  He was more than certain that it took a generous amount of hair product, along with a good chunk of time, to style it to defy gravity, just so.  Until they’d started dating, he could’ve counted on one hand the times he’d seen Demyx with his hair down, natural and relaxed, more suited to his personality.

Zexion understood, really.  His own hair he’d let grow into a long fringe, which he frequently hid behind when he got overwhelmed, or flustered, so he was familiar with the concept of using an aspect of one’s appearance as a kind of armor.

The result was an added intimacy when that armor was stripped away.

Zexion closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Demyx’s hand, pushing Zexion’s hair back until he couldn’t hide anymore, and then the gentle touch as he cupped Zexion’s cheek and pulled him into a kiss.  In his memory, and in remembering it, he sighed, the exhalation a kind of surrender.  He let his mind drift away, this time to an image, Demyx’s hair splayed soft on a pillow, still carrying the scent of hair glue despite the shower they’d shared.  That was Demyx’s scent, hair product, and sweat, and a little bit of something else that Zexion couldn’t identify, and it lingered even when he was gone.

It was a Tuesday, which meant he had the day off.  Zexion snuggled deeper into the over-sized shirt he’d stolen from Demyx.  He’d never considered himself sentimental, insisted to himself that it wasn’t sentiment that made him pull it on this morning.  Just, Demyx’s scent made him feel good, and he liked to carry it with him as he went about his day, taking care of minor housework and fixing tea to sip as he perused his newest book.

Well.  He’d spent as much time perusing his book as he had spent daydreaming.

He frowned, chastising himself.  He was being unreasonable.  There was no need to be so wrapped up in another person like this, especially when he had books to read and his day was already halfway gone.  He eyed the sun in the sky outside, still high, but making its way westward, as it was wont to do.  He huffed and turned his eyes back to his book, this time intent on actually reading the words there.

And he did read.  Without much effort, he relaxed into the focus that came with an enjoyable book, so that the world around him faded away.

He was so enthralled, curled around the hardback book, that he didn’t notice Demyx slip in, even with the jangle of his many key chains to announce his presence.  Didn’t notice the fond look directed at him, or the bag of take-out food set on the counter.

Demyx had once said Zexion wouldn’t notice a natural disaster if it happened while he was reading, and he might’ve been right, on that count.

So Zexion was startled when his first glimpse of Demyx was fresh out of the shower, sunlight catching on his still-drying hair so that it glowed, just a bit.  “I didn’t see you come in,” he murmured, slipping a bookmark between the pages to hold his place.

Demyx pressed a kiss to Zexion’s hair.  “Of course you didn’t.  What’re you reading tonight?”

Zexion ignored the question in favor of kissing Demyx back.  “Welcome back.”

“Is this my shirt?”  Demyx grinned as he plucked at Zexion’s sleeve.

Zexion scowled at the cover of his book, his hair falling over one eye.

“Zexion.”  And there was Demyx’s hand again, tilting his burning face up, pushing Zexion’s hair back.  “Ah!  You’re so fucking cute!  I love you!”  He pulled Zexion into an abrupt, crushing hug, and Zexion couldn’t help but make an indignant squeak.

But he buried his face in Demyx’s shoulder, anyway, breathing in his scent.  “I love you too,” though he wasn’t sure Demyx could hear his voice, as it was muffled against Demyx’s shirt.

Maybe he did, though, because Demyx’s arms grew even tighter around him.  “I bought us dinner!  Chinese, yeah?”

Maybe he wasn’t being so unreasonable, Zexion decided, once Demyx released him.  Zexion tucked his hair behind an ear, to better see Demyx bustle around the kitchen, plating up their dinner.  After all, this was love, wasn’t it?  The toothy smile Demyx sent his way said, yes, it definitely was.