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Branzy’s back hit the cool wood of their beds backboard, positioning himself into a seated position. His eyes fluttered shut—in a half assed attempt to keep himself awake, his eyes drifted over to Clown. He could stare at Clown for hours, he thought. But as much as he wanted to, sleep was rapidly taking over his mind.
Due to recent events, the two decided it’d be in their best interest if one person kept watch whilst the other person slept. Branzy commonly volunteered for this section of the night watch when sleeping in groups: he found himself quite fond of the chilly breeze that accompanied the dark night. The graveyard shift, they called it, midnight to about six or seven in the morning.
Right beside him, Clown lay fast asleep, body lax, not perpetually alert and watching as per usual. His hair laid a mess around him—Branzy could’ve swore he saw it take the form of a tangled yet seeable halo. His brows seem to be slightly furrowed, mouth opened just a sliver as if he was mumbling something under his breath.
He was adorable, really. Branzy cherished moments like these, ones where they weren’t fighting for their lives, ones where they don’t have to see the light fade out of each-others eyes. A chill whispered sweet nothings up his spine at the thought, his face quickly twisting into a grimace at the memories. God, he hated those.
On cue, Clowns expression twitched, his facial expressions falling lax. Branzy’s eyes trailed down his face, landing on his lips. In all honesty, he would kiss those lips all day long if he could. Kissing Clown always felt short of a fight, a fight for dominance: teeth clashing, lip biting.
He really loves Clown, whether it be them stitching each other up after a nasty battle, or tangled in a sweet embrace, he loved it all.
Branzy really wanted to kiss him, but he restrained himself in favor of watching Clowns' eyelashes flutter open as he escaped the land of dreams. Branzy would always be the first one to admit it, Clown was really, really pretty. Sure—he was Clown’s boyfriend, so obviously there was going to be a “little bit” of bias, but Branzy was confident that most of his Clown related thoughts were universal. If people had the opportunity to see Clown without his mask, they’d agree. Branzy was positive everyone would agree Clown is beautiful. He’d bet all his hearts on that one.
To start, Clown’s hair was gorgeous, slightly curled near the ends (a few times, he’s slept hard enough for his bangs to curl upwards. Branzy cries laughing everytime) but practically straight. Black sea-like hair that flows past his shoulders when he wears it down. Though he normally keeps his hair in two buns to fit under his coxcomb—Branzy learnt that word from Clown—seeing that hairstyle on Clown for the first time almost sent Branzy into cardiac arrest. Such an evil being in… such a cute hairstyle? How could this be?
Conclusion reached: good hair, soft, braid-able.
Clown’s ears were tipped ever so slightly. Just enough to allude to the fact he’s not completely human, a heritage that Branzy had recently found out about.
Recently, Clown had gotten a small gold hoop pierced into the cartilage at the end of his right ear. Clown did it himself.
It was not safe, whatsoever. “The gay ear.” Clown had told Branzy solemnly, his voice without a waver. He was the epitome of seriousness.
That hoop had joined two previous earrings in the lobes of Clown’s ears. Small gold bells that were occasionally swapped out for small black stars. Clown preferred gold jewelry, since the dark shade of his hair made his ear accessories stand out.
Branzy could definitely agree that it looked good on him, and complimented his eyes too. Clowns eyes -which now peered at Branzy from under his eyelashes- were two different shades of red, the right one darker than the left. Clown normally kept them outlined with typical jester-like makeup, on occasion he’d outline his eyes with eyeliner, but never a wing.
Branzy recently found out that he does, in-fact, keep the makeup on—even under the mask.
Presently, Clowns eyebrows raised and his lips drew into a smile, slightly confused at his lovers silence. Staring was Clowns thing, not quite Branzys. Eyes once again drawn to Clowns lips, Branzy really couldn’t resist this time, and leaned down to kiss him. Branzy’s hand slid into Clowns hair, gentle hands detangling his hair, moving through the nest with practiced ease. Clowns free hand traveled upwards to cup Branzys face, thumbing over his ear.
Their breaths mingled with one another as Branzy detached himself (much to Clowns dismay) for much needed air. Branzy shifted positions to lay on his side, now able to kiss Clown without straining his neck and back muscles. Clown shifted his arm to attach itself around Branzy and easily rolled them both so that Branzy laid on-top of him whilst Clown comfortably laid on his back. Branzy hummed at the change, bracing one of his elbows next to Clowns head as support.
His hand found purchase on Branzys hip, jostling his shirt fabric to have skin-on-skin contact with his one and only. His free hand found itself in snow-white hair, scratching gently at purple-like horns.
Branzy leaned into the touch, gladly accepting what he was given.
Clown leaned forward, bumping noses with him. Letting out a huff when Branzy leaned back, instead choosing to bask in the loving attention towards his horns instead.
“Morning babe!” Branzy chirped once Clown resigned himself to not getting another kiss.
“It’s six AM.” Clowns voice was clipped, albeit a bit scratchy from sleep.
“True. But in a couple hours from now is usually when people have to feed their chickens! So, practically morning. Also, AM stands for Already Morning, or something like that. So.”
he rested his head on Clowns chest, peering up at him through his lashes.
“AM is an abbreviation stemming from Latin, it stands for ante meridiem. Translates to before noon.”
Branzy blinked once, “…Great. I think I prefer my definition though, makes more sense. But thanks for the lesson!”
Clown raised his eyebrows and glanced to the side, as per shifts; he did regularly wake up at six, as he preferred this time of day. Speaking of that, he gently laid Branzy off to the side. He ignored the huff his lover let out at the lack of attention to his horns.
Now that Clown was awake, Branzy was finally able to have his well earned beauty sleep. The lack of conversation made him realize how tired he really was, a small yawn escaping him at the prospect.
Their sleep schedules fit together like a puzzle piece, Branzy going to bed right around the time Clown would wake up, like two leaves serendipitously passing each other in the wind.
Branzy snuggled into the pillows to get comfortable again, he’d likely sleep for the next three or four hours.
As he waited for sleep to take claim, he watched Clown change from his sleep clothes to the under layer of his normal outfit.
He really admired Clowns lean build—the stories that the scars that ran down his back told.
“Zip me up?” Clown prompted as he sat on the side of the bed, facing away from Branzy so that he would be able to efficiently zip him up.
“Scoot closer,” Branzy asked. “Can’t reach.” he complained under his breath, appreciating how Clown listened. He begrudgingly sat up halfway to reach for the zipper.
Now with at least half of his intricate outfit on, Clown began to put his hair up. Still sitting on the bed next to a sleepy Branzy, he separated his hair down the middle. Clown held a second hair band between his teeth while he tied one pigtail, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Branzy laid back down again, bathing in the warmth of the bed.
His eyes slipped shut, feeling Clown drape a blanket over his shoulder after (presumably) finishing putting his hair up.
With all the gentleness the most feared player on Lifesteal SMP could muster, he gingerly grabbed Branzys face, pressing the softest kiss to his forehead. His eyes fluttered open, the smallest yet stupidest smile taking place.
He tilted his head up, slotting his lips in one another’s. Clown sighed as he melted into the kiss, his thumb gently rubbing Branzys cheek.
Clowns teeth gently caught onto Branzys lips, biting down. He laughed sweetly once Branzy whacked him on the neck, “Behave.” he mumbled as he pulled away, quickly pushing their lips together once more, feeling Clown push his tongue into his mouth.
Just because he liked to be annoying about it, Clown kept making little noises into the kiss, far too engaged for six in the fucking morning.
“Stop, stop.” he grumbled, pushing Clown back by the shoulders and swatting him away.
Clown rolled his eyes and gave Branzy one more peck on the nose, before backing off to keep doing whatever he was doing.