laios touden | seven
modern!au, established relationship. swf. you're doing your nails and laios is being laios. please get this man out of my head. (pet name : baby)
he stops in his footsteps as he realizes he's been incessantly speaking on the topic of why a highspeed rail would enable real solutions to transit problems without your usual hum or uh huh. you are the most patient listener and he feels tremendously alone in the hallway.
where have you drifted off to?
laios finds himself poking his head through every available doorway. kitchen? spotless, he gets lost in reimagined the meal held hours prior before being reminded, once again, he isn't close to you.
the bathroom is empty, smells vaguely of a grape handwash (purple you claim) he's come to associate with you.
he pads, room to room, so laser focused on finding your bright beaming smile he almost crashes into you, sitting on the ground, concentrating.
nail clippings lay a napkin, he's careful not to accidentally kick it as he ensnares you in a hug. legs caging your form as he stuffs his nose into your collarbone. "careful" you huff, nail paint bottle and brush barely escaping your skin. "baby, ten minutes please."
he groans, squeezes you tighter. mumbling nothings into your neck, his nose tickling, a giggle escapes. "not a baby."
"ooh, okay, my big strong baby." he pulls back to quip about nicknames and what how would you feel about being called his baby. his. baby. he catches himself blushing. oh, he gets it now.
you turn back to your task at hand. painting the delicate color on your finger tips slowly. going slowly means you'll stay inside your nail lines and won't need to shower to wash off the excess nail paint. laios, precious thing, continues to make himself known. "whatcha doing?"
"being fancy." a smile on your lips, laios tries to hold the nail paint bottle for you, ever so ready to help. "nu uh, i still need this." he pouts, arms encasing your waist, making your task infinitely harder.
he watches the gentle strokes of the brush as it lays a pretty color on your nails. admittingly, he hasn't considered the effort it takes, how delicately your hands move. laios wonders if you'd let him paint one, he thinks he would do a good job. but you're too efficient and quick. poking at his hand to hand him the bottle, "can you put this back in the rack please?"
you have a small collection of nail paints, all organized in a neat tray. laios eyes the open spot for the bottle before asking, "can you paint mine too?"
the palm of your hand feels cold as you attempt a comforting gesture, turning as much as you can, fingers still wide, trying to keep them protected from accidental touch. "of course, i just need to dry these a bit more." your lips form an o and you blow so gently, hand moving in opposite direction of your lips and laios feels hot all over.
you're murmuring about this being the time you won't bite your nails. the color is pretty, isn't it? you'll be good and not get nervous and chew on it. but laios is is still looping how close you are, how tenderly you're treating your hands, his hands. how careful your body is draped over him.
you're pouting as you examine his hands. he's not careful, you've known this, but his hands are pretty. strong, calloused in odd places. your touch is so tender, laios feels his ears burn at the close examination. your thumb runs over each of his nails, feeling for a jagged edge, filer ready in your other hand.
he watches your face with a soft smile, you're being so attentive. he twitches not expecting the coolness of the nail pain, you coo at him, aslk "too cold, baby?" in a manner too sweet, trails after the hand that was on his cheek. and you're back to finish his other fingers.
explaining he has to sit still for ten minutes. he only chuckles in response, he can sit like, with you so close, forever. you undermine how content he feels right now. you bring a hand up to inspect the color, blowing lightly at the wet color.
"you have such nice nail beds." you sigh, voice soft and dreamy. laios is wants to kiss you so badly, you wouldn't be upset right? he doesn't need his hands to kiss you. he shuffles closer but a hand to his chest stops him. "be good for me, sit still."
he's frowning. what's a kiss? but you lean in close, so close and all do that voice he's so weak to, honey laced and serious "laios? be good yeah? sit still."
right right right, he can be good. he can be absolutely good. the best. the bestest damn good ever! sits up straighter, determined, you giggle and shuffle out of the cocoon of his body. surprised how easily he gave in.
his eyes rake over you. he's going to kiss you so hard after these ten minutes. he waves his hands in the hair, blows on them to dry faster. gosh! he feels so helpless as he sits on the ground, hands up as if he's done something wrong, robbed a bank or pushed a child but when he's the victim here! how dare you leave without kissing him, steal all the warmth!
he tries to count the seconds in his head, converts them to minutes and is all but near five hundred and fifty five seconds before he hears a clash from the kitchen. oh no, oh no did he leave the jam jar on the top shelf again? you know better than to tip-toe to grab at it. he's on his feet and moving, breath held tight when he's greeted with a "laios touden!"
he forgets how to speak, you look so pretty. standing in the green kitchen, wooden spatula in one hand, the other on your hip, brows furrowed at the tall man. oh, you're mad-mad at him, and it's probably his fault he's sure, but all of your attention is on him, finally.
greedily he gets closer, stupidly he reaches out as you swat a hand away. the spatula points to the right, perfectly timed meow and your fingers look so pretty gripping that spatula. laios will kiss each one happily--
"we aren't allowed to take another one in." the black cat now brushes against laios leg, supporting the blond as he pulls you close to him. your resolve to stay mad faltering. "my baby," he emphasis, lips getting pouty "winter was waiting for me on a train boxset. it was a sign from the universe, i couldn't say no."
but you can, after you escape the warmth of his hold, why is he so tall and strong. his hold is firm and resolute, "no, no, no i'm not listening this time. we already have three, laios!"
"you know how i feel about odd numbers." you do, of course you do.
"and you prefer prime numbers, three is good laios. including us that's five inhabitants, another perfect prime number. winter would make six. it's an even number but not a prime number. we already have the per- " the black cat brushes against you, you look down at the beautiful abyss of darkness "no."
you jump at another clash, laios' arms instantly tighten around you but he doesn't seem perplexed. he's trying to distract you with kisses and warm touches. that noise? that came from the bathroom this time didn't it?
your eyes scan the room, melon, cantaloupe and honey look back at you with lazy ease. only winter seems adamant about staying near you and invading your space, meowing, begging for pets and kisses.
if that accounts for all the cats you can see…laios starts to pepper you with kisses. "baby, my baby, listen, you know what my favorite number is? and what's also prime? seven is--" a tortoise cat zips into the kitchen and immediacy back out to the bathroom.
is it bad he finds the way you yell his full name kinda hot?
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