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The practice room was finally quiet. The other members had gone home, leaving only the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint echo of their last rehearsed song. Apo flopped down onto the sofa, running a hand slowly through his newly extended hair. It felt strange, the weight of the extra length brushing against his shoulders. He'd just wanted a change, something different from everything he tried before. He caught his reflection in the darkened window — the longer strands framed his face differently, softer somehow. It felt like stepping into a version of himself he hadn't met yet.
Jay was at the other end of the room, organizing his black dance bag. He hadn't said much about the hair all day. Apo had caught him looking, but Jay was never one for big, public reactions. He kept his feelings neat and ordered.
Apo sighed dramatically, letting his head fall back. "You hate it, don't you?"
Jay froze, his hand still holding a bottle of water. He finally looked up, his gaze warm and soft. "I don't hate it," he said, his voice low.
"You've barely looked at me all day," Apo pouted, even though he knew full well it wasn't true. He'd felt Jay's eyes on him the entire time.
Jay walked over, his steps measured. He stopped in front of Apo, looking down at him. The silence stretched between them, a comfortable silence they'd used to. Then, carefully, Jay reached out and touched a strand of Apo's hair. His fingers were gentle, tracing the entire length from Apo's ear to the tip.
Apo's breath hitched. He looked up, searching Jay's face. The gentle pull of Jay's fingers sent warmth spreading through his chest, slow and honey-thick.
"It's… really nice," Jay admitted, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He avoided Apo's eyes, focusing on the silky strands between his fingers. "It looks good. It suits you." He cleared his throat, his usual composure cracking just a little.
Apo's heart swelled. He loved these small moments, when Jay's careful walls came down and he showed the gentle person underneath. Apo sat up a little, leaning into the touch. "Yeah? You really like it?"
Jay nodded, his thumb now stroking Apo's hair. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something. Then, his voice came out in a quiet, almost shy request. "Can I… maybe try something?"
"Anything," Apo beamed, his energy instantly bouncing back.
Jay sat down next to him on the sofa. "Turn around," he instructed gently.
Apo did as he was told, turning his back to Jay, a nervous excitement fluttering in his stomach. Jay's hands were in his hair again, gently parting it down the middle. He gathered a section from the left side, then paused.
"Wait," Jay muttered, glancing around the practice room, his eyes scanning the floor, the shelves, the corners. Nothing under the chair, nothing near the speakers. Then he spotted it — a small, black hair elastic. Someone from the staff must have left it there. Jay reached over, snagged it, and held it up with a small, satisfied nod. "Good. Found one."
Apo laughed softly.
Jay focused back on Apo's hair. His fingers moved with quiet precision, sectioning, crossing, and weaving the strands together into a neat braid on the left side of Apo's head. When he finished, he secured the end with the elastic he'd found.
Then, without a word, he reached for the right section and began the same process all over again. Halfway through, he paused again, his fingers still holding the half-finished braid. "Hang on," he murmured, his eyes scanning the room once more. This time, his gaze landed on the windowsill, where a single, slightly faded pink elastic lay curled up next to a forgotten bottle of water. Probably left behind by one of the sound technicians from the last session. Jay stretched over and grabbed it.
"I used to braid Mali's hair," Jay murmured, his voice close to Apo's ear. It sent a pleasant shiver down Apo's spine.
"It tickles," Apo laughed softly, but he stayed perfectly still, not wanting Jay to stop. He closed his eyes, focusing on the gentle, meticulous movements. Jay was so careful, so precise. It was so him.
Apo felt safe, wrapped in this quiet bubble of affection. He could feel Jay's breath on his neck, the occasional brush of his knuckles against his skin. "This is nice," Apo whispered.
Jay hummed in agreement, his focus entirely on the task.
After a few minutes, Jay's hands fell away. "There. Done."
Apo turned around quickly, his hand flying up to touch his braids. They were basic braids, neat and perfect, just like Jay. He grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Wow, you're so talented!"
A faint little smile touched Jay's lips. He looked at his work, a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's fine."
"It's perfect," Apo declared, leaning in to wrap his arms around Jay's neck. "Thank you."
Jay relaxed, his arms coming up to circle Apo's waist. He rested his chin on Apo's shoulder, his eyes closing for a moment. He breathed in the scent of Apo's shampoo.
"I really do like it," Jay whispered into Apo's ear, his voice finally free of all restraint. It was a confession, just for the two of them. "I like it a lot."
Apo squeezed him tighter, feeling a wave of pure joy. "I knew you did," he teased softly. He pulled back just enough to look at Jay, his finger tracing the outline of his boyfriend's jaw. "You can braid it every day, if you want."
Jay's cheeks were still pink, but his eyes were steady and full of love. "Sounds nice."
They stayed like that for a long moment, foreheads touching, just breathing each other in. The practice room was quiet, but Apo's heart was singing a loud, happy tune. He had a new hairstyle, and Jay loved it. And when they were alone, Jay always found the perfect way to show it.