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(i'll take this love down with me.)
He grinned, pearly teeth white against the tan of his lips. Nate's smile could cure cancer, end world hunger. It had no inhibitions, it was genuine, and probably his best feature. His hair was a disaster, well past his jawline when not held back by an ugly, blue and white visor or carefully styled with extra-hold gel. Hugh wasn't terribly sure how Nate managed to keep the monster that lived on top of his head in check, but he was okay with it was kept in some kind of order. The visor wasn't pretty, or aesthetically pleasing, but the lankier boy managed to make it work. Witchcraft, probably.
Nate was odd like that, with his ridiculous hair and silly outfit. He was a cheerful little shit, his laughter would stick to people in the room, it would reverberate around the walls, his optimism was contagious. His tepig waddled around the couch, attempting to get up where the boys were lounging. They were sprawled on the sofa, Hugh's back pressed against the armrest, Nate's head laid on the older boy's lap.
"You're staring again, Hugh."
The taller boy shook his head, and gave the brunet a small smile, twirling long locks of hair in between his slender fingers. They were brown, they were blonde, his hair was a mystery, but the majority of the younger teen's hair was dark brown. Nate always joked that his hair was the best, and one hundred times more natural than Hugh's (dyed) blue hair. Hugh had shoved him off a bridge into a small, Striaton City pond that day. Nate's thin arms flailed from under lily pads and cattails, attempting to grab ahold of anything solid. Hugh had been the lucky winner, and went down with him, limbs twisting and interlocking in ways he would've never thought humanly possible-but they were. They wrestled in the scum, and laughed when a politoed unleashed a bubblebeam at them, which hurt like hell hours after. But in that moment where he had the brunet pinned, with an easy smile on his sharp face, he felt infinite.
"Sorry, Nate." He let out a low chuckle, and ruffled his hair. "Your hair is pretty soft, what the hell do you do to it?"
Nate flashed a mischievous glance, and returned to his humming. "Oh, the usual." This left Hugh wondering what constituted as a usual morning routine. He barely ran a brush through his hair, and it wasn't because he didn't have time for it. It was because the last time he tried to do some heavy-duty hair grooming, he swore the bush he dared called tresses ate the comb. His little sister berated him for it constantly, and on multiple occasions took his laziness as a blessing, and decorated his head with a plethora of hair bows and iridescent hair clips.
"Right, because I'm sure you actually do something besides slap on that terribad visor of yours. Have you thought about investing in a hat, for god's sake?" His sarcastic bullets deflected off of Nate's airy wave, and his roll of eyes.
"Terribad isn't a word, Hugh. Grammar's quintessential."
"To what? The nerds who wear wetsuits under their shorts club?"
"Shut up, I'm an adventurer!" Nate jolted up, and turned to face Hugh, his knees bent, feet on top of the other boy's legs. "I'm ready for anything, any challenge, any cliff, any sea-"
He certainly wasn't prepared for the lips that came crashing down on his, and the hands that clutched at his shirt.
The kiss was sloppy, rushed, they broke apart the moment they started. Unexperienced, and uncontrolled, motivated by impulse, Hugh staggered, and leaned away from the other boy, his face redder than the tamato plant in his backyard.
Nate's tepig snorted, unaccustomed to being ignored, and blew out small embers. They ignored the smell of burning petunias.
"Oh."
Nate's shocked expression scared Hugh momentarily, any worry he had was eradicated by the trademarked carefree, and dorky grin. The blue haired teen attempted a weak chuckle, and scratched at the back of his head. Nate looked down at this lap, fighting with his face, demanding it not to break out into laughter.
It didn't work. "You taste like birthday cake," he mumbled, after the initial shock and awe wore off.
Hugh was okay with that. He shoved the brunet off the couch, and Nate laughed as his visor tumbled to the ground. "You're so fricking rude, Hugh."
"Whatever, loser."
Their laughter echoed in the empty house.
notes: i'm unsatisfied with the ending, it seems too abrupt. i digress, however, considering i need more practice writing. the style is simplistic in this piece, mostly because it's been a while since i've actually forced myself to write, ahah.
anyhow, say hello to my beautiful otp. bw2 comes out tomorrow!
- angie