Summary: The things I do for you. Historical setting, human!AU, silliness, fluff.

Genre: humour-ish?

Rating: T at the most.

"I said I'd think about it."

Yao tugged at his sleeve, insistent and unrelenting. "Kiku, please, come on."

"Not right now, Yao-san."

The offending hand slid round his waist and Kiku shivered as the subject of their current conversation met his neck. "Kiku, really, it's not that bad."

Kiku did not reply, merely gently but firmly removing Yao's hand from around his middle. "You're not the one who has to sleep with it against your neck," he said matter-of-factly, sighing slightly as he set down his text. "It's like sleeping with a horse-hair broom."

"You agreed to it only a couple of weeks ago!" Yao protested, kissing him softly. Under any other circumstance, Kiku would not have minded this in the slightest, but now, put off by what was accompanying those lips, he pulled away, recoiling mildly in disgust.

"I only agreed," Kiku said carefully, resisting the urge to itch furiously at where Yao's lips had just been, "because I didn't know it would be like this. Had I known, I most certainly would have refused."

Yao frowned, hurt, and the offending feature shifted with it. "I'm sure if you got used to it, it'd be fine," he suggested, with more innocence than Kiku had expected. "After all, it's just hair."

"I'm sorry, Yao-san," he began, because he was – he adored Yao dearly, and he never wanted to hurt him, but: "I love your hair, please remember that. I just simply cannot bear it when it is on your face."

Weeks later and having been roped into still giving it time ("Oh, come on, Kiku, it'll improve" –"A few more weeks then, but no matter how much you ask, I am not going to comb it"), Kiku felt he was slowly going mad. Any attempt at affection or romance had been successfully thwarted by the presence of Yao's ever-growing beard. What was worse, it was getting hotter now, closer to summer – Kiku fanned himself groggily, a slave to the heat - usually, he slept well during summer nights, but with Yao sleeping so close to his back (as usual), Kiku found that rest was nothing but a far-off dream.

Exhausted, and with the sun at its peak, Kiku felt himself succumbing to sleep – peace at last; dear, dear rest – he rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes, the table as comfortable as any bed.

As sleep overcame him, the door creaked as it opened. Edging around it, Yao smiled at the sight of his sleeping lover, the manner in which his fingers curled proving delightful to behold. But they had been distant as of late; Kiku was pulling away more often than usual, despite his apparent adaptation to Yao's own, more expressive style. Yao sat beside him quietly, so as not to disturb him, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders with an absorbed adoration. "Ah, Kiku," he said aloud, his own hand spreading to touch that concealed back. "You are the meaning of a blessing." He moved closer to kiss Kiku's cheek, lingering there to catch traces of his beloved's scent and to touch whispers of his hair.

Kiku's hand (rather roughly) met his face and pushed him away. Kiku sat up, half sleepy, half something new and previously unidentified – Yao wondered if it was frustration or weariness about something. "Look," Kiku said, with superficial caution, "we're going to need to talk."

He sat behind Yao, combing his long hair, re-establishing the affection they had both been missing as he brought up the topic at hand. "Why did you decide to grow the, um, beard, Yao-san?"

"It suits me, don't you think?"

Kiku hesitated – what to say? He could not turn Yao down, nor did he want to dash the other's infant pride, but it was too obvious and his silence was beginning to show his answer for itself. Yao was anxious, anticipating a response. Finally, he picked one. "You have such smooth skin."

He could see Yao trying to think what that meant, and the horrible moment when the penny dropped. "But don't you think I look cultured? Dignified? Attractive?"

"…Are those the only three adjectives I can choose from?"

Yao's shoulders slumped. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well," he began carefully, "let's just say that they're not the first ones I would have considered…"

"What would you have considered?"

Kiku took a deep, tense breath. "…Unkempt, maybe. Different."

"Difference and change can be good things, though," Yao said, tilting his head back as Kiku encountered a particularly stubborn tangle and attacked it with the comb.

"In this case they can't be," Kiku replied, focusing on his task. "I'm sorry, Yao-san. It's just, well… you never said why you did it."

Yao took some time to respond, a singular sorrowful laugh escaping him. "There's only one reason I do the things I do. I thought you might like it."

Kiku smiled sadly, getting to his feet. "Come on. Fear not. Let us walk in the gardens." He helped Yao to his feet, squeezing his hands in a small gesture of love. It was hot and unyielding, but the lake presented some form of reprieve. "Look," Kiku said, extending his free arm to gesture to the other shore. "Peonies."

"Well, it is summer," Yao said, smiling sadly still. "There's nothing surprising about that, is there?"

"No," Kiku replied, regarding him with truth in his eyes. "But you and I, together, we bloom all year round."

That night, while Kiku was sleeping, clutching desperately to the bolster which served as a replacement for his own body; Yao silently left their shared bed, to find the long disused thin blade that had once been so familiar. Some others would see it as disrespect to his parents, perhaps, but then, Yao thought, his parents had never been around to want it. "The things I do for you, Kiku…"

As clean-shaven as he could become in the moonlight, he returned to their bed, gently removing the bolster pillow and pulling Kiku into his arms. His lover stirred, and, seeming to register the absence of facial hair, kissed him softly and relaxed again, content. Yao returned the kiss, reflected that he hadn't really liked the beard anyway, and joined Kiku in sleep, where their dreams blossomed side-by-side.

Not sure how I feel about this, but I still like the concept! The problem with humour is that sometimes when you're (attempting) writing it, it doesn't always seem funny.

Anyway, thanks to all the lovely people who have given me a lot of motivation; I'll try to keep this active but I can't promise anything with uni. I'm not going to upload all the oneshots I write to this; this is more for smaller, simpler ones. There'll be mixed verses (so varying AUs), mixed genres, and there might be mixed ratings.

I hope you all enjoy!