#was that it HAD to be aye kissing the top of akk's head lmao

[sollucets]

I kinda want to ask you to write all touch prompts for akk and aye but because that is unreasonable and way too greedy, how about 26, 27 and maybe 33? thank you so so much! And congratulations on your followers!!!!

you know, i'd write them all too if i had the fuckin Time [sobs] thank you very much nonny

26 (kissing the top of their head) + 27 (pulling them closer) + 33 (tasting their smile) from this list for my lil event; right around 1k of height difference & nickname shenanigans and talking around another bigger issue!!!! set in the summer after ourskyy, rated t for 'tall'

💜

“Hand me that plate, Shortstop.” 

Akk does, but not without making sure to splash Aye with the water running off of it. “We’ve been over this." They have, although it's been a while since Aye had first tried it in the tent. "That’s your name.” 

With a little yelp, Aye snatches the plate from his hand and sets to drying it with slightly more force than strictly necessary. The water drops stand out against the gray material of his t-shirt. “Why can’t we switch?” 

“Do you not have eyes?” Akk takes another bowl out of Aye’s mom’s sink and starts washing it with a little grin. “Grow a bit taller and we can talk.”

He expects Aye to fire back with a water attack of his own, or an insult, so when neither comes he turns to look at his boyfriend in faint surprise. Aye is giving the plate an undeservedly contemplative look, lips pursed. It’s very cute. Akk splashes him again. 

“Akk,” snaps Aye, his nose going all scrunched the way it does when he’s actually annoyed. 

“Aye,” Akk answers, grin reaching all the way up to his eyes. 

Aye stares for a long second, then softens all at once, mouth curving up in turn. He still elbows Akk in retribution before picking up his next dish, though. “So if I was taller than you, we could switch? I could be your Bigfoot.”

“If you were taller than me, I would’ve come up with a different nickname in the first place.”

“But I wouldn’t have,” Aye says decisively. “You’d have been Shortstop to me.”

Akk shoots him a sidelong look, dubious. “It's annoying, so yes, probably. In a hypothetical parallel universe where you’re taller. Why are you suddenly so obsessed with this? Don’t you call me enough things already?” 

“Do you not like it, darling?” asks Aye, all coy and playful, and it devolves from there. He doesn’t bring up the height thing again that day. 

But apparently he didn’t actually forget, because in the time following that initial conversation Aye starts taking every possible opportunity to be taller than Akk. 

It starts small, like Aye insisting Akk sit on the ground while he’s on the couch so he can reach his hair to dry it, calling him Shortstop in a tone of such overdone honeyed affection that all he can do is laugh. Or like Aye crawling into Akk’s lap so he has a height advantage when they kiss, and Akk making sure he doesn't get a chance to use any nickname at all.

Then it escalates, as things frequently do with them. Aye sits on top of the couch backrest at Akk’s house instead of on it, buys a pair of shoes with these ridiculous heel boosts, sits on Akk's desk while Akk writes his admission essays. At one point, very memorably, he gets on a table at a party they’d attended with Kan and refuses to come down until Akk has to drag him. 

Akk doesn’t mind as much as he’s pretending he does, which is something he’s found works for them with these things. It makes Aye happy to see him annoyed, so if he gets what he wants and the behavior isn’t actually that annoying, it’s a win for both of them. And it is funny, honestly, and frequently ends with Aye hanging off of him somehow. 

Still, though, after nearly two months of their summer together being intermittently marked by Aye’s new favorite running joke, something starts to nibble at the corner of Akk’s mind. It’s late summer now, and they’re running up closer to the thing they’ve barely managed to talk about: Aye’s impending departure, and his own entry into a northern university. And— well. He can’t manage that, but he might be able to manage this.

So the next time Aye makes a point of standing two stairs up in his own home to talk to Akk, he turns and looks up at him and asks, point-blank, “Does it bother you that I’m taller?” 

Aye blinks once, twice, then laughs a little. After a second, he seems to realize that Akk is honestly asking and tilts his head with an expression of mild bemusement. “No, baby. I like it, you give great hugs and have great legs. Why?”

Akk makes a sputtering noise and tries not to get derailed thinking about Aye’s feelings about his legs, which he did already know about for— various reasons. Instead, he pointedly jerks his chin at Aye, noticeably needing to tilt his head up to do so. 

“I'm just messing with you,” Aye says, reaching a hand out with a little smile. “I thought you knew.” 

“I do,” says Akk, and lets Aye take his hand and pull him one step up the stairs. It doesn’t equalize their heights; Aye’s still just a little taller like this. “But... it’s been going on a long time.”

“Yeah, I guess it has,” says Aye a little thoughtfully. “I just like seeing—” 

“—My angry face. I know.” 

Aye outright giggles at that, gently intertwining his fingers with Akk’s. “If you know, then why are you worrying about it?” 

Akk can feel his resolve failing already. He sighs. 

“I guess,” says Aye thoughtfully after a moment, “I do also like it when we… switch.” He wiggles his eyebrows and continues talking over Akk’s incoherent noise in response. “So it’s fun for me, to try and turn the little nickname thing on its head. Not that you’re cooperating.” 

“You wouldn’t like it if I cooperated,” Akk says, half-sure, and tries mostly unsuccessfully to glare up at Aye. 

“Oh, but I do,” Aye says, tugging him even closer by their twined hands and putting his other one on the back of Akk’s neck, pushing his head down enough to press a kiss to the top of it. “Just not right away. I like getting you to admit things."

There's an odd-- hesitation there, a long moment of silence. Akk looks back up, their faces close enough to kiss properly now, and sees Aye looking away from him, eyes big and preoccupied. 

“What?” Akk prompts, and when he doesn’t get an answer, adds, “Bigfoot?” 

Aye’s gaze snaps back to him, suddenly focused and intent and sparkling, and he grins. “Yeah,” he says, slowly like he’s savoring the confirmation, “That’s nice.” 

Akk leans up a little further and kisses that smile, gently and then less so when the fingers on the back of his neck tighten and pull him closer. He leans into it with a sigh and tries not to think about other things Aye might like him to admit, and instead thinks about how — it is nice, sometimes, to be the smaller one.