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“Okay, so get this,” Mr. KK began, anger tightly woven into his smooth voice. It was late at night, at hours one would only associate with night owls who enjoyed solitude and silence, and he’d only just come home from work; an eight hour shift MZD could tell had gone for eight hours too long based solely on his expression. Sullen eyes, tense fists, and messy honey hair painted a clearer picture than necessary for the DJ, a picture only emphasized by how the transit worker had frustratedly punctured the lid on his instant noodles after he slammed it onto the kitchen counter. Today clearly hadn’t gone as well as it could have.


“So, this asshole, he struts up to the counter and he’s all ‘wah wah wah this train doesn’t make the connection I need it to, I want a refund,’ and like… you’re the one who bought the ticket, dumbass! Do your goddamn research before you blow fifty on something like that!” KK’s voice only grew louder with each word, almost seeming to mock the man he spoke of. MZD felt bad, but he couldn’t help but worry his husband would wake up their son with his ranting. “Did you not see on the site you bought the damned thing on that tickets are non-refundable?!”


“Shhh, Lee’s asleep, you know,” MZD hushed quickly, glancing nervously at the hallway where the boy’s room laid. He ran his fingers through the back of his head, repeating the same loose grasping motion in a loop until he’d felt satisfied. “He’d probably hate to wake up to this yelling. He might think we’re fighting or something.”


“R-Right. My bad,” KK mumbled, the guilt clear in his eyes. He looked away, rubbing the stubble on his chin for a moment before the fiery glint returned and he went back to his rant, albeit much quieter this time. “So I, I tell this dude he can’t refund the ticket right? I don’t know what I expected from a guy like this but he gets pissed and starts screaming at me. Like, god fucking dammit man, I thought I was pretty polite. Polite as I can be when I’ve got an asshat all up in my face! And besides, it’s not my fault he got the wrong ticket, we can’t be held responsible for that! There’s a terms of service for a fucking reason!”


With a heavy sigh, the honey-haired man turned on the sink and filled his noodles cup with a little more cold water than labelled, placing it into the microwave with haste and firmly shut the device’s door. Before long, a familiar humming filled the room, its mere presence seeming to ease the tension in the air.


“I’m sorry that happened today, K,” MZD muttered sadly. “Nothing like this ever happens at the studio. I have no idea how you put up with this.” The god pushed himself onto his feet from the cabinet he’d been leaning on just moments ago, making his way over to KK and wrapping his arms around him. The gesture seemed to relax him, and he slumped a little, returning the hug.


“It’s okay, I don’t know how I do either,” KK conceded.


“Maybe when your dinner’s ready here, you can tell me more? I can put something nice on, and we could watch it together while you eat.”


“Aw jeez, Zee, you really don’t gotta. You really want to hear me talk about these entitled brats?”


“You say this like it’s a better idea to keep it bottled up.” Two loud, high-pitched beeps followed MZD’s words, signalling that the noodles were ready. He removed himself from his husband, floating over to their couch in the living room and making himself comfy, pulling a blanket from the floor that was big enough to cover them both. As KK made his way over to join him, the DJ summoned a small blue panel under his right hand, punching in a few options to pull up a larger screen in the air in front of where the two would sit. Calming music followed, softly filling the air.


“Alright, I’m ready now,” KK said as he took his place next to MZD. He had to be careful that water from his cup wouldn’t spill, but once he was safely seated, he shuffled a little closer to his husband, throwing some of the blanket MZD had grabbed over his lap. “Where did you want me to start?”


“Wherever you want to,” the god replied with a smile. “Did that guy ever calm down?”


“Not really. I had to call over my boss. She took care of it like it was nothing,” KK explained in between bites, still clearly disgruntled. “Guess he was more willing to listen to a cute girl than someone like me. Course he would.” He gritted his teeth just a little, enough that MZD would have been able to tell, but not anyone else. No one who wasn’t as familiar with him as he was, anyways.


“Aww, K, it’s no sweat. She’s your boss for a reason; she’s probably got more experience talking people down than you do. I wouldn’t put it just on looks.”


“...I guess. Still fuckin’ sucks though. Wish they’d treat me like the person I am.”


The two of them looked down for a bit, each unsure how to continue the conversation smoothly. While KK continued to power through the noodles, MZD tried to think of a way to lighten the mood. He drew his legs into his body, lifting his feet onto the couch in the process, and brought his end of the blanket up onto his knees.  It seemed to distract KK from his sour mood for a moment, and the DJ could swear he heard his husband giggle, even if just under his breath, not meant for anyone’s ears but his own.


“So, um, anything good happen today? How was your break?” MZD asked, turning to face his husband. Having forgotten he’d turned autoplay off during his last video browsing session—he wasn’t sure why, because he enjoyed the intrigue of being lead through videos he wouldn’t have otherwise picked—he quickly scrolled through the sidebar of suggested videos and picked a song at random.


KK’s face brightened, and he smiled warmly, dropping the spoon into his cup of noodles. “Oh, yeah, I got to talk to the kid. He swung by on his way home. He was tellin’ me about this new mix he was working on, and he showed me a little bit of it. Lee’s getting real good with those eurobeat leads, y’know.”


“Well, that explains why he got home later than usual tonight. Don’t think he mentioned anything like that to me earlier. Guess he was just so tired he forgot,” MZD replied, a snicker escaping through his lips.


“He did seem kinda out of it, but I guess that’s what happens when you work so late. Like me, haha.” KK finished the last of his dinner, and leaned forward to put his finished cup on the coffee table in front of the two, but realized it was a little too far for his reach. The both of them looked at each other and grinned, knowing they were too comfy to get up for this. MZD summoned the same small panel again under his left hand and punched in another option or two, and before either knew it, the DJ was using a second program to move the cup from his husband’s hands to the kitchen sink, a much more suitable place for finished dishes. He’d deal with throwing it out properly later.


“Guess so. But every time I work late, I’m fine!” MZD chimed.


“You’re also the one up until who knows when every night watching… actually, what even was it last time? All I know is that it was some annoying shit cause you got some catchphrase I’d never heard before stuck in my head all day,” KK replied with a laugh, snuggling deeper into the couch and into his husband. The DJ welcomed this gesture, and he returned it happily, leaning into KK’s shoulder.


“Oh come on, really? I gotta show you the Fever Robo show sometime, that’s probably what it was.” MZD grinned widely, clearly very excited. His eyes seemed to sparkle, as if they had become windows into the cosmos. “You’d probably like Redd the most, he’s pretty funny!”


“Maybe someday. You know how I am with TV shows…”


“If we watched it together, would that make it easier for you?”


“Is that even a question? Of course, Zee.”


The two sat in silence for a while, the kind of silence that could only be enjoyed with someone one loved. No words needed to be spoken to know what each was thinking to the other; their actions told the story, and comfort reigned supreme. It was late, however, and although they both enjoyed each other’s company like this, they knew sleeping here wasn’t going to either of them much good.


“...Maybe it’s a good idea if we both got to bed here.” The transit worker yawned, but barely moved from where he sat, an indicator that getting comfortable may not have been the best thing for his routine.


“You’re one to talk, get up!” MZD giggled, beginning to walk towards his room, but pausing after just so far that KK would have felt the obligation to follow. The honey-haired man pushed himself from the couch tiredly and sauntered after his husband, the blanket they’d shared clinging onto his pants leg and dragging across the floor. “You haven’t even changed into your pajamas yet, do you really think you’re gonna sleep in a suit?!”


“Like I haven’t before,” KK replied smugly.


“Damn, got me there.” The two walked off into the hallway together, disappearing in the darkness’s embrace.