Archive of Our Own

Even after shrinking down to an ordinary human size, he still stood a head taller than you when side by side. On a cloudy afternoon heavy with rain, you took his hand and led him into the buildings that once looked like stacks of toy blocks in his eyes—until at last, it was one of them.
As he stepped inside, the low doorframe nearly knocked his hat off. He removed it instead, revealing a head of soft, voluminous curls. Watching that gentle mass of hair, you suddenly had the urge to reach out and touch it. But to do so, either he would have to bend down—or you would have to stand on tiptoe.
Your eyes flickered, and an idea took shape.
You rummaged through the wardrobe and pulled out an old tie you hadn’t used in ages, its pattern already faded. He sat in the chair that looked a little too small for him, his gaze following your every move, a faint confusion rising in his eyes. Clutching the tie, you walked over, smiling as you rose onto your toes.
He seemed to understand something. He didn’t move away—only let out a soft sigh. The sound dissolved into the thickening rain as you slipped the tie over his eyes and tied an uneven knot behind his head.
The moment it was secured, thunder cracked sharply outside. His body flinched, just slightly. Taking the chance, you lifted your hand and gently covered his ears. Your fingers slipped into the curls at the back of his head—softer, warmer than you’d imagined. You gave them a satisfied little rub and whispered,
“It’s okay. We’re safe here.”
Beneath your palm, the tension in his shoulders and neck finally eased a little. But deprived of sight, his hearing seemed to sharpen—the rain tapping against the window, your faint, uneven breathing. It left him just a little distracted.
Lowering your head, you spoke softly against the tie covering his eyes:
“Let’s play a game—blindfolded kissing challenge.”
You cupped his face, your thumb brushing slowly across his warm lips—his breathing hitched at once. A pleased smile curved on your lips.
“Let’s begin. No hands allowed.”
Obediently, he placed his hands behind his back and slowly crouched down. His breath brushed past your forehead, skimmed your nose, reached your lips—yet didn’t stop there.
You bit back a laugh, curious to see where this slowly sinking head would finally come to rest.
A flash of white lightning lit up the room. At the same time, a warm touch landed against your left collarbone—he was kissing there, focused and intent. The thunder felt distant, sealed away, leaving only the sound of your own quickening heartbeat.
“You idiot… am I really that short?”
You poked his nose, a little indignant.
He lifted a hand and removed the tie himself, looking at you with an innocent expression.
“Then… one more time?”
You snatched the tie from his hand and tied it over your own eyes without hesitation.
“No. My turn.”
He went easy on you. Just sat there, sparing you the awkward climb like a koala clinging to a tree.
You leaned closer. You heard the subtle shift of his throat—knew you’d found the right direction. But you didn’t rush. You lingered, teasing, deliberately pressing your lips to that rising point first.
The moment your lips left, his hand lifted your chin.
This time, he didn’t let you play around.
He guided you—straight to the end.