𖥈brush𖥈

(i know the art and the artist ships ryureo, and this is a ryusae fanfic it's a bit unorthodox to have the drawing, but i mean, it's shidou and it's peak art.....)

It started because Shidou complained.

Not in a whining way—more like the usual "I'm gonna dramatically flop on the couch like I've been shot by an arrow from Cupid and/or Life" way. He'd dragged himself into the living room after his shower, hair dripping, messy blonde strands tangled like he'd fought a wind spirit on the way there.

And Sae, sitting on the couch, scrolling, looked up just in time to see Shidou try to finger-comb the knots out.

He winced.

Not because he cared. No. Obviously not.

...But Shidou's hair looked like it hurt.

Then Shidou groaned loudly, dramatically, and dropped to his knees in front of Sae—head forward, like a dog demanding attention.

"Saaaae," he said, voice muffled by his own hair. "It's stuck again."

Sae stared. Shidou stayed there, kneeling, like Sae was obligated by the universe to fix him.

"...What am I supposed to do about it?" Sae muttered.

Shidou lifted his head just enough to send him a tiny pout. A tiny one. But powerful. Devastating.

"My hands hurt," he complained. "And you're good with your fingers."

Sae's ears went red instantly. Shidou didn't notice—he was blowing his fringe away like an irritated cat.

Sae sighed. "Give me the brush."

Shidou's back straightened. "Really?"

"No," Sae deadpanned. "I said it just to hear myself talk. Yes, really. Give it."

Shidou scrambled so fast he nearly face-planted into the coffee table grabbing the hairbrush from the counter.

Then he plopped on the floor between Sae's knees, back pressed against the couch, legs crossed, shoulders relaxed like he'd just returned to his natural habitat.

Which, apparently, was "leaning on Sae."

Sae tried not to think about how warm Shidou felt against his shins. He cleared his throat and lifted a blond lock.

"...God. How do you manage to get this tangled in one shower?" he muttered.

Shidou tilted his head back just enough to grin at him upside down. "Talent."

"Misery," Sae corrected, but his voice softened.

He started gently, separating strands with fingers first, brushing slowly from the ends upward like he'd seen stylists do. Shidou made a small noise—a content one, like a sigh and a hum mixed together.

Then he leaned back even more, head resting lightly against Sae's knee.

"You're really good at this," Shidou murmured, sounding almost sleepy.

Sae's chest went warm. Dangerously warm.

"It's not rocket science," he said tightly. But he stroked the brush gentler, slower, like he was trying to prove Shidou right without meaning to.

Shidou closed his eyes. "Feels nice..."

Sae paused for a second—because why did that make something flutter in his stomach? Annoying.

He resumed brushing. "You sound like a cat."

Shidou scrunched his nose. "Then pet me more."

Sae's hand froze.

Shidou blinked up at him with the most unintentional puppy eyes. "What? You already are."

Sae silently prayed for mercy.

"...Don't say it like that," he muttered.

"Like what?"

"Like you're enjoying this."

"But I am enjoying this."

Sae's ears burned. "Shut up."

But Shidou didn't. He just leaned further into the touch, the tiniest smile on his lips, almost shy if he weren't Shidou.

After a moment, Shidou said softly, "You're always so gentle."

Sae stilled.

He tried to scoff. "Don't make stuff up."

"I'm serious." Shidou's voice was low, sincere. "With me... you're always gentle."

Sae felt his heartbeat tick harder. He didn't answer—not verbally.

He just placed his palm on the crown of Shidou's head for a moment. Warm. Soft. Steady.

Then returned to brushing, careful and slow.

Shidou melted. Fully. Shoulders loose, breathing soft, leaning back against Sae like he trusted him with every vertebrae in his spine.

When Sae finished, he ran his fingers once through Shidou's now-silky hair.

Perfect.

Shidou made the smallest, happiest sound.

And Sae—Sae looked away sharply, pretending the heat in his face was just because the room was too warm.

"...Done," he muttered. "Don't ruin it in five minutes."

Shidou turned around on his knees to face him. His hair fell smoothly over his shoulders—golden, soft, shining.

He grinned wide.

Then he leaned forward—pressing his forehead to Sae's knee in a soft nuzzle.

"Thank you."

Sae swallowed.

"Whatever," he said, too quickly. "You looked pathetic."

Shidou laughed, rested his chin on Sae's knee, and blinked up at him with an expression so soft it nearly shattered Sae's soul.

"So you fixed me?"

"...Shut up."

Shidou only smiled harder.

And Sae—very discreetly, very gently—put his hand back on Shidou's hair for just one more second.

Just one.

Because if he kept it there longer, he might never stop.

art credit: https://www.tumblr.com/kurtiness/795741675607687168/ryureo