Work Text:
It’s one of those rare week nights for the both of them, when schedules line up just perfectly. Time open that allowed the two to spend meaningless hours simply in each other’s space. There was something on the dingy little radio Toshinori kept in his home—of course Hizashi had put it on for ‘ambiance’. It filled the quiet just as much as the younger blonde’s accompanied humming did.
It was calming.
At some point in the evening they’d both ended up settled in the living room area, something on the tv but turned down to the point it went unheard. Just background motion as they cycled through this topic and that (mostly Hizashi recounting his day and Toshinori listening with ease).
Hizashi ended up sat cozy on the floor just in front of the couch where Toshinori was seated, Hizashi's legs stretched long and tucked under the kotatsu that took up space now that the weather was cooling.
His head was rested just against the older blonde’s thigh, leaned back there and yapping away. Toshinori was listening, of course but there was also a layer of distraction to it all, as long fingers aimlessly found the silky strands of the other’s hair. It was down, product free—as usual, when they were off the clock.
It was too easy to start playing with the locks. Then even easier than that to work his way into sectioning pieces, a little more concentrated now, lips slightly pursed.
Toshinori only realized he was putting so much attention into the slightly uncoordinated movement of his fingers when he got a laugh and shift from Hizashi, the younger tipping his head back just a bit. Just enough to flash dizzying green from behind the lenses of his glasses.
“Having fun back there, big guy?”
Toshinori would huff, flush a bit. He definitely missed a question asked before the other man peeked at him, if that grin was anything to go by.
“You can keep talking, you know. Don’t mind me. I was listening—ah… to an extent.”
That got a snort from the other blonde—but Hizashi did turn himself back to face forward and allow Toshinori to continue with his work. Work that definitely needed some practice.
By the time Hizashi was on his next rant about someone or something to do with his radio show hosted last weekend, Toshinori had managed to actually create… some semblance of a braid in the long length of blonde.
There were surely kids out there that could do much better.
He sighed, and he even went to tug at the end like he would undo all the hard work he’d just put in—but of course that’s when Hizashi pulled away, turned, flipped the braid over a shoulder to examine.
His smile beamed, dimples prominent, eyes curved.
It was like the sun rising.
“Look’it that! Say, ya’ might have a calling, Toshi! “
It was clearly a tease, but there was also such genuinity in the words that it sent a flush of color to the older man’s cheeks.
He rolled his eyes, leaning back on the couch and patting the space beside him in offer.
“I think you need to raise your standards a bit, Hizashi.”
But he smiled in return, and his request was rewarded with the other man wiggling up to settle in at his side, warming Toshi up much like the kotatsu had done for him down on the floor.