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You and Keys are the two biggest nerds you’ve respectively ever met, and in two very different ways.
You’ve always admired your boyfriend’s aptitude for technology and programming, the way his fingers can fly over the keys of his laptop as code just flows from his mind in a way you’ll never be able to understand. Anytime he tells you about what he’s working on (without simplifying it in terms you’d understand), it’s like he’s speaking another language. Granted, technically he is; whatever programming language he’s working with at a given time.
But the way Keys talks about it, the way his eyes light up when he tells you about his work with Millie on Free Life… It doesn’t matter if you understand what he’s talking about, you love the way he talks about it. You could listen to him talk for hours, blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff.
You, on the other hand, had studied arts; literature, languages, film, theatre, music, photography, the list goes on. This was fascinating to Keys, listening to you go on about it, helping you run lines. He’d body double with you, working out bugs in the game or ideas for future updates while you were editing a video or poring over a manuscript. A couple times, he’d let you pose him for test photos or listen to some song you’ve cooked up. He could listen to you talk in other languages for hours on end, not understanding a damn word unless you told him. You had a hand in all sorts of arts and Keys loved that about you.
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One day, Keys comes home from working with Millie and Mouser on Free Life, finding you deep in a state of work: spread out in the living room with your big sketchbook, a bunch of Polaroids, three cameras of different styles, your laptop open with several tabs, your tablet open with editing software, and your noise-cancelling headphones jammed over your ears, presumably blasting music.
Your head is bobbing along to whatever you’re listening to. You’ve got a marker between your teeth and your hair’s a mess, and the only thought in Keys’ head is how fucking adorable you look like this, focused and determined.
Keys just smiles fondly, toeing off his shoes and hanging his jacket on the hook. His keys to the apartment get dropped in the little dish on the table just inside the door. He puts his bag on the kitchen island and starts on making dinner.
Only ten minutes later do you start smelling whatever he’s cooking, making you push your headphones down around your neck to look over. You grin in surprise.
“Keys!” You say brightly, climbing over the back of the couch to wander into the kitchen. You perch on the island. “When did you get home? I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.”
“It’s alright, baby, you were focused,” he says, smiling. He tilts your chin up with a finger and presses his lips to yours gently. “Only been home about fifteen minutes, though. Really, don’t worry.”
You hum softly, looping a finger through his belt loop to keep him close. “I missed you. I don’t think I even noticed the time passing, I was so locked in. I’ve had the same project open all day and they’re pictures of you, so I guess you could say I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you add with a grin.
“It’s getting real tiring, running through your mind all day,” Keys teases in return. He kisses your cheek. “Making your favourite.”
“You, Walter McKey, are the most amazing man I have ever met.”
“You’re one to talk,” Keys says fondly. “What were you working on? Why the pictures of me?”
“Because you’re pretty and I missed you and you looked really fucking good in them. I swear, you could be a model.”
Keys grimaces a little and shakes his head. “I dunno. I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, I would. But I know it’s not your calling and I am perfectly content keeping you all to myself as a model.” You hop down from the island and wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your forehead to the space of his back between his shoulder blades. “Lucky me.”
Keys chuckles. “Sweetheart, I only look good in your photos because of whatever you do to edit them.”
Your grip around him tightens. “The only editing I ever do is with lighting and shadows and filters and stuff. I’ve never edited you.”
Keys, who had been stirring the pasta, freezes a little in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes, baby, really.”
“…Oh.”
You press a kiss to his shoulder. “Never once edited you. You’re too pretty.”
“Shut up,” he mumbles, and a peek up at him shows how much he’s blushing.
“You’re pretty when you blush too.”
“You suck.”
“You love me.”
Keys scoffs, but he’s smiling. “Yeah, I do.” He turns his head just slightly to press a kiss to your forehead. “I really, really do.”
You hug him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck and pressing a kiss there. “You smell nice.”
Keys snorts out a laugh. “I shouldn’t. I spent all day in Mouser’s stuffy apartment with junky take out and he decided to light a joint on the balcony for a bit and then he smelled like weed when he came back- reeked of the stuff but we really had to figure out that bug in the cherry blossom map-”
“Well, you don’t smell like weed or junky take out,” you reply. “You just smell like my Keys.”
“So I smell metallic?”
You swat his arm as he laughs. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”
“I know you think I’m funny.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You laugh, gently guiding his face down to press your lips to his. “I really love you, did you know that?”
Keys hums. “I might have. I don’t mind the reminders every now and again, though,” he adds with a sheepish smile.
“I’ll remind you whenever you need.” You kiss him again, smiling into it.
“So tell me about that project,” he says, genuine interest in his voice. “I know you mentioned the pictures of me, but I’m sure you wouldn’t have been that locked in if it wasn’t important.”
You hum softly. “True.” You perch on the counter next to the stove, leaning back against the cabinets and watching him fondly. “Well, someone saw some of my photography on Instagram and was wondering if I had a portfolio they could look over. They want to commission me for a photoshoot for an indie short film,” you add with a shy grin.
“What!” Keys exclaims. “Baby, that’s awesome! I’m so happy for you.” He cradles your cheek and leans over to kiss you deeply. “Your art getting some much deserved attention.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. McKey.”
He smiles softly and kisses your cheek. A timer goes off and he pulls away reluctantly to strain the pasta, add the sauce, and add a few extra ingredients, mixing it all together.
“Come on, handsome, let’s eat.”
You sit next to him at the island, kissing his shoulder before digging in hungrily. Being so focused, you’re not entirely sure when you last ate; at least, when you last ate a decent amount in one sitting as opposed to just snacking. Keys clearly notices your hunger but simply squeezes your knee and kisses your temple, making sure you don’t eat too fast.
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Afterwards, Keys affectionately banishes you to the couch to watch a movie together. You wonder why he didn’t join you at first until he returns with two little pints of ice cream and two spoons. The spoons were just teaspoon size, because he knows you prefer eating ice cream with the small ones; makes it last longer, you think.
He doesn’t dare move your work, not wanting to disrupt your system. You’re both similar like that; no one touches your work but you, no one touches his work but him - without express permission, at least. You shift things to the side so Keys can put his feet up on the coffee table the way he likes.
As Keys does so while tucking himself into one corner of the couch, you curl up right next to him, feet tucked underneath yourself.
“My beloved film aficionado, what’s on the list for tonight?”
You pull up Letterboxd on your phone to check the list you made of movies to watch with Keys. You grin hopefully, looking over at him.
“Can we finally watch Dead Poets Society?”
“Are you gonna talk through it?”
“I can try to be quiet-” You start to say sheepishly, but Keys turns your head to face him.
“No, don’t,” he says quickly. “I love your commentary. And I know this is your favourite movie. I asked because I wanted to make sure you were.”
You flush pink at his words. “Keys…”
He dips his head to capture your lips in a deep kiss, his fingers sliding into your hair. “Consider this a formal request that you nerd out. It’s been a long day, I just really wanna hear your voice. Please?”
You smile sheepishly and steal another peck. “Who am I to deny when you ask so nicely?” You tease.
Keys grins triumphantly, he himself stealing another kiss before settling with his arm around your waist as you pull up the movie. You settle together with your little tubs of ice cream as the movie begins. Your head finds his shoulder, and his head in turn leans against yours.
You murmur lines under your breath. Every now and again, you tap his thigh to make sure he’s paying attention to specific parts. You’re so invested in the movie, despite seeing it a few dozen times already, that you don’t realize just how enamoured Keys is with simply watching you.
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When the movie is over and the two of you are climbing into bed, you ask Keys about how the new maps are faring for Free Life. You have to suppress a loving grin at the way his eyes light up just to talk about it.
“Other than a couple bugs here and there, it’s going smoothly. We got some feedback from players about the user interface being easier to navigate- which is fair enough, I think Mouser was hyped up on half a dozen energy drinks when he first programmed it- don’t ask me why, I have no idea how that man’s brain works but it works nonetheless. Anyways, we’re working on reorganizing it to work smoother so players can get to the maps they’re looking for quicker. Guy’s been a big help with that too, mostly on the side of players confiding in him or other AIs and NPCs finding their own glitches…”
He keeps talking, but you’re just enjoying the smooth sound of his voice when he starts get into some of the more technical stuff that you can’t make heads or tails of. You cuddle into him, arm draped over his waist and head resting on his chest. One of his arms is around you while the other gestures vaguely - you both have a tendency to talk with your hands, you’ve found - but whenever he puts it down, his hand comes to rest on your arm around his middle.
You blink slowly, head tilted up to keep listening to him. After a little while, he smiles softly. “Sleepy?”
You hum. “A bit.”
“I’m boring you, aren’t I?”
You shake your head. “I have no idea what you’re saying but that doesn’t mean I don’t like the way you’re saying it.”
“You’re sleep deprived.”
“You just have a pretty voice.”
Keys flushes at that, pulling you tighter to him. “Do you want me to keep going, then?”
You nod sleepily. “You can turn off the lamp, though. Dunno how much longer I can keep my eyes open.”
Keys kisses the top of your head and leans to turn off the lamp on the side table next to him. The bedroom plunges into darkness, and you cuddle closer into Keys’ side.
“I love you,” you murmur before yawning.
Keys strokes your hair gently. “I love you, too, handsome.”
“Promise you’ll keep talking until I fall asleep?”
Keys’ hand finds yours and he links his pinky with yours. “Promise.”
You smile softly and settle, letting his soft voice wash over you again as he continues to talk about Free Life.
You fall asleep not long after, which Keys can tell by the way your breathing has slowed and your pinky has loosened slightly from his. He keeps stroking your hair, watching you fondly for a bit before deciding he should sleep as well.
He pulls you close, kissing your forehead, and lets his eyes flutter shut.