𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘.

𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙫𝙖𝙨, JOHNTEN

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in which ten is so busy working
on his painting that he forgets
how much he missed his boyfriend.

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ten is about to pass out.

it's hot in his little makeshift studio in the corner of his apartment, there's paint all over his hands, his hair keeps slipping out of the bun that johnny insisted would would keep his hair out of his face, the effects of his three earlier cups of coffee were starting to wear off, and ten is about to pass out.

the sun had set a while ago—a few minutes or hours, he wouldn't know—as he leans his back against the wall and stares at his canvas, all different swirling colors and hues of blue and indigo and grays. he tilted his head, then blows at a piece of hair that fell onto his face, and huffs when it falls back into place.

this was supposed to be easy. it should be easy, but a part of him felt like something was missing as he stared at the painting, anger slowly starting to boil in the pit of his stomach.

ten jumped in his spot on the ground when the door to the studio suddenly flew open, loudly announcing the arrival of his boyfriend.

"guess who brought chicken~!" johnny sing-songed, tossing his car keys onto the counter near the door and proudly displayed the bag of chicken practically steaming through the paper box. "how's the painting going—"

he freezes, his eyes finally locked onto ten, who was coming to the sudden realization of exactly how much of a mess he looked in that moment: hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, paint probably covering every inch of him from head to toe—

johnny blinked at him. "is that my shirt?"

ten blinked right back at him, then glanced down at the shirt he was wearing, which may or may not have been randomly grabbed from johnny's clean laundry. he gave johnny a lopsided smile. "oh. yeah, uh... sorry, i should've asked before i—"

"ten," johnny sighed as he placed the box of chicken down next to his keys and placed a stern hand on his hips that made ten think, oh wow, he's gonna make a great dad. "when was the last time you did your laundry?"

"uh," ten responded, at which johnny just sighed again and finally crossed the room, ignoring ten's noise of protest as he plucked the paintbrush right out of his dry, paint covered hands.

"so," johnny started, setting the brush down and taking ten's hands and pulling him off the floor, "you're going to go take a shower—cause lord knows you need one—and i'm gonna pull up netflix and we're gonna eat. and when you're down, we're gonna do the laundry together—" he gives ten a pointed look that he tried oh so very hard to ignore, "—and then you can go back to your painting, which is gonna be beautiful and amazing and perfect like they always are."

he tucks the stray piece of hair that'd been the bane of ten's existence for the past hour behind his ear, his lips quirking up into a small smile while doing so. "okay?"

ten bit his lip and glanced back at his painting, then looked back at johnny and their hands that were somehow intertwined during their whole exchange. he lets out a long breath and answered, "okay."

he's pretty sure he made the right choice, if the way that johnny beamed at him was anything to go by. "sweet." he leaned in and placed a quick peck on ten's lips, a small fit of giggles erupting between them as he pecked a few more times before pulling away. "now go clean up. you have paint all over your face."

later on, ten is sure that he made the right decision, seeing that he quickly finished his painting the next day. turned out it wasn't missing anything at all—he just missed johnny.

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ah hee hee 🤠 hi guys, how ya doin'? sorry i haven't been active, i've just been at ✨school, suffering✨ and i'm ✨scraping by with the remaining braincells✨ i am quite literally beat, but i managed to squeeze out this little gem at 5 in the morning so i hope you guys enjoyed it :) anyways, long haired painter ten supremacy 😌🖐✨