#love how they did not achieve the prompt at all. it’s ok sometimes ur kevin day and u just need to sit in the moment. ykwim

[billdenbrough]

another prompt from @naturecalls111 for my shower warm ups, this time kevaaron + haircut, where kevin asks to cut aaron’s hair (grown out a little long, kevin likes playing with aaron’s hair, no huge drama if kevin is bad at it, etc). kevin kinda forgot the task at hand for a bit (was engaged in gay behaviour) but that’s where we’re starting with this lmao

It’s not until he’s got Aaron sitting in front of him and the scissors in his hands that Kevin hesitates.

Aaron notices, because of course he does. They set up a mirror on the bed, propped up against a cushion so Aaron can keep an eye on proceedings. He’d rolled his eyes as Kevin had insisted, but had dutifully adjusted it until he vowed he could see both his hair and Kevin through it. Now he uses it to quirk an eyebrow at Kevin.

“Don’t freak out on me now, Day,” he says. It's that weird-awful mix of goading and gentle that only Aaron can pull off, that specific tone that never fails to tug at the base of Kevin's stomach. Even now, all this time later.

Sometimes it hits Kevin, in moments like this. Growing up, he’d never have thought he could end up here. He wouldn’t have wanted to, wouldn’t have known how. All he had was his mother, and then Riko and Exy and victory, and then it was all torn from him in one fell swing.

But here he is now, in a home that’s his, sunlight streaming through the window and spilling out over Aaron’s bare knee. He’s sitting here, on the bed he sleeps in with the boy who once spent three hours trying to teach him how to play Halo 3, and Aaron is half-smiling at him through the mirror. Aaron is sitting cross-legged on their bed, wearing one of Kevin’s shirts, trusting Kevin so easily.

“I'm not a professional,” Kevin warns.

The snort Aaron lets out is unnecessarily exasperated, Kevin thinks. It’s undeniably fond too, though. Affectionate enough that Kevin feels warmer just by hearing it.

“You’re not a professional anything except Exy player and pain in my ass,” Aaron mutters, then holds up his index finger. “Don’t,” he warns, twisting his torso a little to place the finger against Kevin's grin.

In his defence, Kevin wasn’t actually going to say it. He was just going to preen smugly in Aaron's direction until the message got conveyed. He's a little pleased that Aaron could tell where that was going to go even without Kevin getting to that point. Reminds him that he’s known.

Betsy told him once that knowing could be a form of loving. She said it when he was talking about his mother—trying to detangle why he held on so tightly to the pieces of her he held, and Betsy had looked at him, and said, Kevin, in many ways, the act of being known is an act of love.

Kevin thinks about this, with Aaron's finger pressed up against his lips, fond exasperation in the crinkles around his eyes, and Kevin aches with it. Just this little thing, this little moment, this life he has now, made up of so many of them.

He puts the scissors down for a moment. Before Aaron can tease him for it, Kevin runs his fingers through Aaron's hair. He lightly scratches at Aaron's scalp. Aaron not only allows this, but leans into it, making a huffy, contented noise that’s so cute that Kevin wants to run a mile just to deal with it.

But this is what life is, like this, so Kevin does not do that. He just leans forward and kisses Aaron, finger still caught between their lips.

“Kevin,” Aaron complains, retrieving his finger, but he clearly can’t be too annoyed, because he kisses Kevin back.

“Okay,” Kevin announces after trading a few more kisses. “I'm ready.”

Aaron huffs a laugh. “So generous of you,” Aaron says, but he twists back into his original position. Kevin was originally going to kneel behind him, but he decides to stretch out his legs, bracketing Aaron in between them, Aaron's knees pressing against and on top of his thighs.

“Shh,” Kevin says, picking up the scissors again and running his other hand through Aaron's hair, eyeing it critically to decide where to start. “I'm working.”

“Oh my god,” Aaron mutters, but when Kevin glances at the mirror—just quick, a flash of a thing, just wanting to see Aaron in that moment—there’s a fond smile drifting across Aaron's face. Kevin swallows, smiles. Looks back at Aaron’s hair, humming.