Work Text:
"Zayne?"
"Yes, love?"
You smile giddily at the pet name. It's very new. Every time it falls from his lips - as a quiet whisper, a fond scolding, a casual remark - it trills through you like a fluttering bird. "Can I borrow one of your sweaters?"
You can imagine the confusion on his face in the pause your question leaves behind. You wait patiently as you hear him set his laptop on the coffee table and pad his way to the bedroom. He peers in, eyes immediately landing on you, where you're poking around his closet, feeling the sleeves of his array of sweaters.
"I can turn the AC up if you're cold," he says pragmatically.
"No, I like it being cold! It means I can bundle up and be extra cozy. I just wondered if I could do that with your sweaters."
He blinks. Then nods. "Of course."
You smile. "Thank you, honey!"
His ears flush pink at the pet name, but he offers his little smile and disappears from the door with a shake of his head.
You slide the hangers along the bar as you consider your options. He has them divided by cardigans and sweaters, and by color and length. You love when you notice his organizing habits like this. You just imagine him pondering the best way to sort out all these things, from your plushies to his ties.
You eventually settle on a warm brown one you've never seen him wear before. It's exceptionally soft, and you just want to soak into the fibers. You slip it on and it engulfs you. Sleeves slip past your hands, collar hangs loose around your neck, hem down to your mid-thigh. Oh, yes. This is the one.
You try to contain just how happy you are with your decision as you trot back out to the living room. He isn't in his spot on the couch, but you hear the gentle clinking of mugs from the kitchen. You lean against the back of the couch to wait. He comes out a second later with two mugs. He smiles bashfully as he closes the distance, holding your mug out to you.
"To enhance your coziness," he explains simply.
The ceramic is pleasantly hot in your hands. Steam rises from the liquid within, warming your face. You look up at him as you gently blow the steam away. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, waiting. You take a careful sip...
You hum, eyes closing with a soft sigh. "It's perfect," you tell him. You look back up at him. "Thank you."
He touches your cheek with a curled finger, lovingly playful. “You”’re welcome.” His lips follow after, pressing featherlight against your warmed skin. His eyes seem to glow with delight as he pulls away. "Let's further enhance your cozy experience."
His hand touches lightly at your side and guides you around to the front of the couch. You settle back into the plush cushions with him. He doesn't pick his laptop back up, but instead grabs the TV remote. You pull your feet up onto the couch beside you and lean into his side as he turns on a movie you love. He holds you close, nuzzling his cheek against the crown of your head, as the opening credits play.
Time passes peacefully. He drags a blanket over your laps early on in the film. You think he must be secretly using his Evol to make the air colder, to get you to curl up even further into his arms, to have an excuse to slip his fingers under the sweater you borrowed. Your mugs sit empty on the coffee table. You nudge them to fit inside one another.
At some point, you can't help watching his face, the expressions he has as he watches the movie. When he notices you, he tilts his head, silently asking why. You can't resist drawing a hand along his jaw to draw him down to you. He meets your lips with a quiet sigh and holds your hand to his cheek. Too much time passes simply kissing him; the movie is almost over when you finally pull away and come to your senses again.
But all good things must come to an end.
The movie's credits roll. You linger a while longer, sharing hushed conversation in the glow of the TV. The reminder that you have to go back to your own place comes in silence. A pause that lingers. An inevitability that grows, that neither of you wants to acknowledge.
It breaks with a quiet sigh. "I should get back," you whisper. You don't move yet. Not yet. You want to steal a few seconds more.
He hums. Traces your cheek like a delicate flower. "I'll drive you," he murmurs.
Your lips quirk up in a smile. "Okay."
He returns it as he draws you into another kiss. And another... And another... You laugh against his lips. "I have to go sometime," you mutter. Yet your fingers tangle into his hair, betraying your true desires.
"Mm, not yet."