Work Text:
When the sound of the clock started digging in his head like a woodpecker in his skull, Millie knew he was condemned to die of boredom. Not that he doesn’t like lazy sunday afternoons after a long, terrible week, but the fact is that he feels terribly lonely.
Alas, he could only listen to the hands, with long and manicured black nails that he adores, typing on a keyboard that sounds like it was made a couple centuries ago is the reason why he didn’t leave this imaginary cage to run to the park nearby.
His partner was visibly busy on what seems to be a never-ending text on pre colonial native american culinary practices, Far from boring, he admires the attention that Ananas pays to tell stories that are asking to be told, to portray with a precision and great love cultures that aren’t always showed in it greatness.
He can’t wait to see their face when they will receive the mail giving them the green light they need to post it. The adorable smirk, showing that wrinkle that they try desperately to hide, and the hidden excitement of a tortuous work being finally successful, after long hours of headaches from questionable websites, numerous unsourced informations that they had to dig and properly source themself before they start cursing in Malagasy.
But they finished it, and Millie is extremely proud. He can admire the strong, wide shoulders finally ease on the pressure, like a statue being brought to life by the promise of a sweet afternoon without any tasks left to do. They start stretching, their shirt showing a glimpse almost provocative of their lower back, covered in tattoos that he likes to trace with his figures whenever he gets the chance of getting them to undress. He is disappointed when their long, messy blonde hair covers their back again, in desperate need of a good fixing with a good, way too warm shower that he hates because it feels like being thrown in a sauna, with so many products that probably cost a car licence.
He notices that Ananas watches him, that irritating smirk that grew at his sight, which unfortunately causes his heart to skip a beat. He knows that they spent the last three weeks having to manage difficult conversations, speaking with people who don’t share their life experience and struggling to identify themselves to the topics they are bringing to light. A shame, this obsession with trying to bring an audience as large as possible instead of educating the new generation, swimming in trends while not understanding what young people desire today.
But the fact that his partner didn’t give up, they fought in numerous calls, claiming that they have a responsibility as a teacher to show the reality of people like them who do not even know their own ancestors' history. But their talent for storytelling got them to actually get the young students' attention during their conferences, who would be glued at their words like children listening to a story.
“ What those imbeciles do without me, really.”
“ You abandoned me for those said ‘imbeciles’, you know that. “
He jumps when unbearably hot hands gently hold his face, caging his head like a bird catching a mouse, and then pinch his cheeks.
“ Don’t start, I heard enough stupidity for the next decades. “
“ Help ! Somebody save me from this brute ! “
Millennial Tree fakes disgust when lips start roughly attacking his face, starting from his forehead, his nose, then every single part of his face when his laugh resonate in the small apartment.
“ Get out ! Your lips are too dry ! Go get some balm ! “
“ Tss.. Ungrateful as usual..! “
To his sadness, the large hands leave his face, and he witnesses the comically long hair going to the direction of the fridge, taking a bottle that they drink without a moment of breath, making him whistle, impressed. They roll their eyes and go quickly towards the bathroom.
“ I got the whole week free thanks to that imbecile. “ Ananas loud voice says, breaking the silence again. “ And I’m not supposed to have any class either. “
“ I go back to work next Thursday. “ answers Millie before he could hear the water.
“ Don’t forget your appointment. “
“ Yes, yes, Tuesday 2:30 pm, so exciting. “
“ You told me 2 hours and 36 minutes ago that I was too sarcastic, what kind of privilege do you think you have now ? “
Millie looks at the clock, and makes an annoyed sound when he realizes that it’s true. Ananas is way too brutal with words sometimes, clearly lacking skills on reading tones and understanding when there’s better ways to tell someone’s mistakes. But it’s unfortunately complementary to his way too nice personality, that got him in trouble when he has to face impatient people. He hates conflict, he also hates micro aggressive remarks because he is “too slow”, but he tries to show kindness as he knows that people may have a lot in their mind and think that throwing the frustration on others is their way to feel better. But Ananas, oh Ananas, with their massive ego, refuse to let this slide. If it means they have to make an old lady cry because she stared at their husband the wrong way, so be it.
“ You are way too nice with those worms, they are not worthy of your kind words.”
Ananas told him once, a profound tension between their eyes because of the very obvious frown caused by the frustration. “ If they don’t have the time, it’s because of their lack of time management skills, not you. “ They take Millie’s grocery bags as they say it, not willing to let him do any more effort after this terrible moment. They don’t forget the bag of medicine, that they pick efficiently before taking big steps towards the elevator, that they open for him. “ Next time, please, call me. They will kiss the ground where you stepped on I can assure you that. “
A true monarch of insolence, mixed with the energy of a spoiled princess. He knew what kind of marriage he got himself into, with the personification of melodrama by his side. But the fact they’re not even hiding how much they care made those days sweeter for him.
“ I can hear you think. “
Millie listens to the sounds of the door opening, then the loud steps to the bedroom.
“ I’m thinking of the fact that you’re the most insufferable person I have ever met. “
“ If I really annoyed you, you would have already pretended to sleep so you can avoid conversations. “
Ananas very smug face appears at the doorframe of the living room, with that smirk that never left their face. It’s a privilege to see them in such a good mood.
“ Don’t tempt me with a nice nap. “
Millie smiles in return and stretches in the most exaggerated way, while yawning exceptionally loud, he lies down on the couch he was sitting on and closes his eyes, waiting for a response.
Unfortunately for his fragile ribs, he reopens his eyes in panic when a weight, way bigger than his, lying on him, and starts screaming in offense when the hands that caught his head in an embrace, prey on his waist now. Screams became a strangling laugh, while he’s caged and unable to escape the ferocious grips. He yelps when he feels teeth dig without hurting him on the skin of his cheek.
“ This is a murder ! I’m being killed ! My gorgeous partner is killing me in my sleep ! “
“ You are forbidden to sleep now. “
He tries to find a silly punchline to face this unfair situation, but he’s unfortunately cursed with being ticklish, so he can’t even form a proper word, which Ananas gladly uses against him when they need something from him.
It takes a good minute, before Millie can feel Ananas’ head on his left shoulder, one of his hands moved to his own hand, leaving him breathless when their fingers interlock with each other, with the small cling of both rings. It’s tender, one of their rare moments of weakness.
Their relationship was not easy at first, at the start. Ananas, too proud, refused anything to get to them emotionally, even in private. He saw the awful tension when he tried to initiate contact, the way they had unrealistic demands and only claiming to want unending praises. But this armor they built, he saw it break, slowly and surely, when Millie discovered their biggest weak point : Sweet food.
And then, the change was brutal, surprising him. They looked at him the same way a follower of God would admire an angel sending a divine message, when he came with a box of delicious, homemade pear pie. Despite the difficult situations he got himself in places full of tension like the train station or the supermarket, he gets along very well with people, and helping as much as he can caused him to get this one neighbour to harbor kind, platonic affection for him.
So, she made him a pie, and shared it.
This tall, grumpy blonde domestic tyrant was hilarious to tease after that, he loved that new side of them, and witnessing them almost drooling, ready to devour this entire pie without leaving any crumbs. But instead of anger, his hand was held with the gentleness of a porcelain doll, and those lips gently caressing the back of his hand with that unknown, vulnerable side that thanked him for this gift, changed him permanantly.
He understood that Ananas wasn’t giving that distant attitude for no reason, their eyes hold so much more complex emotions from a past before him, a past that left them a mark that taught them that only giving is what keeps their relationship strong, which completely excluded the idea of a true complicity. And then he understood everything.
It felt like finding a treasure.
And he absolutely loved it since, enjoying them all mushy, like an overgrown cat. The same lips that changed him going on his neck, without lust but affirmation of their true bond.