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Unlocking the front door of their two- or was it three now? Fuck it, he’d have to ask or check the dates of the overwhelming amount of pictures on his phone- apartment was a pain in the arse as he still struggled with the keys every once in a while, but Tony also understood why, after the whole ‘Sketch’ fiasco his boyfriend was still a bit paranoid, to say the least.
After kicking his shoes off and to the side- knowing it would earn him a complaint or two later on when a certain dancer would ungracefully trip over them, it was honestly a miracle he hadn’t split his head open or broken something.-he took a few long strides straight through their small-arse-hallway (“‘S not the architect’s fault you’re six foot two, Tone”) into the kitchen, cursing as the realization of the fact that they hadn’t bothered to go to the store the day previous dawned on him,
“Maxxie!”
After a minute or so and not getting an immediate response or even a groan from being woken up triggered a slight panic, deciding to push it down and investigate, as the answer could be as simple as a trip to the store, which would make sense, but something that didn’t make sense was that Maxxie knew when Tony would be home and would always text him something along the lines of “Gon 2 the store brb,” though, to be fair it usually consisted of an impressive amount of spelling errors.
Just as he was about to fuck off to bed for a nap so he could ignore the dishes that he should wash and put away but that’s beside the point- he had a near heart attack to the familiar yell of his boyfriend who was currently in the bathroom Tony was just passing. “Jesus fuck, Max. I thought you had pissed off to the store, y’ know actually being useful- the fuck are you doing?” His confusion shown in his voice as he opened the door of their bathroom only to find his boyfriend hunched over the sink with leaflets and bottles surrounding the tap. Just as he was going to speak the chemicals finally hit him, oh so it was that time of the month.
For other couples (a.k.a. not the gays) that would usually mean the girlfriend’s ‘auntie flow was going to be visiting for a few days’ or whatever the fuck girls called menstrual cycles nowadays. For Tony, this meant Maxxie was dyeing his hair from a dirty blonde to practically white. He watched as the same person who was a near sponsor to ‘Schwarzkopf’, straightening his posture and grinning at him. “Is fuck the only word you know?” Deciding to ignore the teasing and instead opting to lean down to kiss his much shorter boyfriend, his confusion hitting him once more (not unlike Michelle decking him after finding out what happened between them in Russia) and the cause this time being the hand on his shoulder stopping his movements. He only noticed the accidental- and slightly embarrassing whine he had let out as it’s response was Maxxie’s warm laugh, and he really likes Maxxie’s laugh so he wasn’t that bothered.
“You’re gonna get bleach into your hair, Tone. And not to say you wouldn’t look good as a blonde, I quite like your hair as it is. Plus we don’t wanna recreate Anwar and I’s matching look,” Letting out a small sigh Tony nodded in agreement. Maxxie was right, didn’t mean it didn’t fucking suck arse though. What sucked more, however, was how the man in front of him brought Tony’s attention to his appearance which was near painful to look at.
His boyfriend stood in front of him was dressed in only a pair of sinfully small, revealing, black boxers that contrasted with his pale white skin. “For Christ’s sake Maxxie,” The comment was an obvious mistake as the practically naked man in front of him started swaying his hips ever so slightly, in the way he knows makes Tony go mad. “Okay, okay. Stop.” Placing his hands onto Maxxie’s hips to stop the movements which made the shorter man giggle. “Have you done your roots?” The response he got was a quick nod. “I just need to wait for a few more minutes,” Making a noise of acknowledgment as he started tracing small patterns onto Maxxie’s hips and leaving a few quick kisses from his neck to his shoulder before being swatted away by the same boy. “I need to take a shower, Tony,” Already smirking as he responded. “I’ll join you,” Seeming to think about it for what felt like forever Maxxie (finally) relented “...Fine, but you’re washing my hair.”
And as much as Tony complained about Maxxie dyeing his hair and how he knew later in the year when it got colder, Maxxie’s hair wouldn’t be the only thing bleached as so would his sweaters Maxxie liked to wear, fuck if he didn’t love helping his boyfriend wash his hair afterward.