Work Text:
So far it had been around a month now cooped up in that house. It was packed full of residents. Everyone had started to grow stir-crazy around mid-way through week three, but soon enough a little community seemed to form in each room. The unrelenting sun never seemed to cease and yet the residents formed their own little society inside.
The living room was probably the least talkative amongst its residents. There were two sisters, only one of which ever really seemed to talk. The other just sat quietly in the armchair looking exhausted. The nun would whisper prayers non-stop to herself to the point everyone either tuned her out or told her to shut up. The two demands were either coming from the smoker sister who was trying to get her twin to sleep, or Yesenin who was just irritable and had little care for social formalities.
The couch was a little crowded with Yesenin, a 7’5” drunkard who'd spent most of his life in construction, and Coat Guy sat next to him, constantly shivering with chattering teeth. The smoker sister sat on the other end of the couch, fine for them.
Yesenin and Coat didn't speak much. Not much to talk about. But they'd occasionally exchange a few words if Yesenin felt the need to. Rarely, but sometimes.
Tonight, most everyone was asleep already. The smoker twin had fallen asleep against the armrest and the depressed one had finally prevailed against her insomnia to lay her head back against the backrest of the armchair in a doze. The nun had somehow fallen asleep standing up, a disturbing sight that everyone could agree on. All had drifted off except for Yesenin and Coat, both awake in a thick silence.
Yesenin had been staring up at his unofficially designated corner where the wall met the ceiling, his calloused fingertips running through his short hair. Without the comfort of haircuts, everyone's hair had grown out. For most it was barely noticeable, but for Yesenin? It was incredibly noticeable since his hair was so short you could practically see the growth in real time.
It wasn't too much longer, the brunette locks starting to stick up slightly and subtly curl off to one side. There was his little tuft in the front that the drunkard had tried to push back to follow the natural curve. His hair was only about an inch long, not a millimeter longer. But it still bugged him.
Throughout Yesenin’s life, he'd tried quite a few hairstyles to hide his long face, to frame it right, to make himself not look as off putting due to his height. But it never worked. Nothing seemed to suit him. So he cut it all off. Which was actually pretty convenient due to his job in construction.
Either way, this hair growth irritated him.
“God dammit…” Yesenin grumbled to himself as he twisted some of his hair between his fingers, curled up at the corner of the couch with his legs crossed like usual. This got Coat Guy to look up and see the frustration etched into Yesenin’s features.
“Wh-what…?” Coat inquired quietly, his voice full of tremors due to his insatiable cold. “You-your h-hair..?”
“Yeah. My hair. It's a mess, no need to rub it in.” Yesenin snapped quietly, the agitation in his voice clear. And yet, Coat only looked confused as his head tilted to the side.
“A-a mess…? You- y-you look nor-normal.. wh-whats wrong w-with it- i-it..?” Coat asked, genuine confusion lacing his voice. To him, the drunkard looked just fine. If anything, the little tuft in the front looked sorta cute.
This got Yesenin’s attention, his blue eyes flickering down the shivering man next to him. His expression became unreadable with a hint of surprise buried in it.
“... what? My face. It looks awful in comparison to my face. Are you blind on top of freezing?” Yesenin mumbled into his hand, much less bite than intended.
“Wh-whats wrong w-with you-your f-face..? Your f-face and- a-and hair l-look fine…” Coat said simply, looking down to his lap and pulling his scarf over the bottom of his face. His jittery voice grew lower. “I-i actually sor-s-sorta like i-it…”
Yesenin’s eyes seemed to subtly widen, the bewilderment on his face becoming more clear. His whole life he'd been called quite a few things, usually having to do with his height or his thin appearance due to struggles with weight distribution because of his height. None of them were nice. ‘String Bean’, ‘Daddy Long Legs’, ‘Skeleton’, etc. And yet this blue-ish, 5’7 man seemed to enjoy how he looked even with his hair slowly growing out and bits of faint stubble adorned his cheeks.
“You… you do?” Yesenin murmured, his voice lacking its usual irritation or neutrality as he took in the sight of Coat like it was for the very first time.
Coat had his eyes firmly planted onto his own slacks now. His plaid scarf now covered the bottom of his face, not only for warmth but to hide the purple dusting his cheeks in a way he never had before. It was an odd feeling, certainly new, but it was strangely nice. For a moment, he was almost able to forget about the hole in his stomach, about the fact that he was a visitor whose mind told him to do terrible things he barely resisted. It was like his weird little feelings that Yesenin gave him helped to block out those parasitic voices fogging his mind.
“M-mhm… t-the tuf-tuft i-in the front i-is nice.. l-looks sorts fluff- f-fluffy…” Coat murmured into his scarf as Yesenin reached up to feel the said tuft of hair. He pinched some hair between his fingers once more, suddenly not feeling as annoyed about it anymore. Like it was alright and waiting until he could cut it properly once more wouldn't be so bad. Not to mention his loathing of his long and worn face seemed to let up too…
“Hm. It is pretty fluffy… heh, I forgot about my hair texture. I can barely look at old photos of myself in high school trying to not look like a giraffe.” Yesenin joked bitterly as he ran his fingers through his hair and leaned his head down as if to present his brunette locks to the cold little weirdo.
“H-hehe… I th-think your h-hair is- i-is fine with a-a little e-extra… n-nothing wrong with- w-with some insulation…” Coat joked awkwardly, completely unused to anything positive. And yet Yesenin made him want to try.
Yesenin actually chuckled at that, a lopsided and subtle smile coming to his face amongst his rough laughs. Coat's hand slowly reached up before stopping just short of Yesenin’s hair, his trembling fingers careful not to touch so as not to irritate the drunkard. But Yesenin didn't seem to mind nor move away, just keeping his head lowered enough to where his hair could be touched.
Coat's shivering fingertips grazed over Yesenin’s hair, his pupils dilating wide like a cat’s. The hair was so fluffy. The drunkard was so rough and neutral all the time, and yet his hair was coarse but fluffy like an Oriental Shorthair. They both felt extremely awkward either from years of isolation or complete lack of experience. Though, it was sorta soothing to share this moment.
Coat Guy's fingers slowly smoothed through the fluffy locks and brushed those uneven tips to the numb pads of his fingers. Yesenin did his best to sit still even if the angle was bugging his neck.
Eventually Coat's fingers pulled back and dug into the worn leather of his sleeve while Yesenin sat back upright. The experience had been so quiet that no one else in the room had actually woken up. A miracle for them both, really. No more comments were made on the interaction, but the underlying tension between the two men seemed to soften into a mutual understanding between the two of them.
It was like the awkward unfamiliarity soothed into something softer, more comfortable. Yesenin’s insecurities were quelled for the time being at knowing someone found the sight of him pleasant. While Coat's intrusive thoughts got quieter as he now had the drunkard to think about and the texture of that soft hair grazing his numb fingers.
The night no longer felt thick or invasive, but quiet and soft like the world was decent for the time being…