Work Text:
That Friday was a lazy one. With snow falling outside and no reason to go out, Jonathan and Edward had stayed in bed late, and had only just gotten out of bed for lunch. In truth, they’d just moved their lazing to the couch, if they were being honest with themselves.
Edward had decided to settle on Jonathan's lap and stare up at the cross-stitch hoop he was working on. From the underside the carefully stitched lines of colorful thread seemed incomprehensible, and Edward wondered how the chaos under the hoop translated so perfectly over it.
Jonathan's thin hands and slender, calloused fingertips seemed perfectly suited for the delicate work, and his thimbled index finger tapped at the stretched cloth lightly as he felt for the needle at each downstitch. His eyes followed the pattern, wholly focused on the task in his hands. There was this focus to Jonathan when he did anything Edward would’ve called housework. Cooking, baking, knitting, sewing, hell, even working an engine brought out this practiced concert in Jonathan, like the task in front of him was the only thing he needed to worry about, the only thing that mattered. Edward thought it was the most attractive thing about him, and the perfect time to watch, soak in every feature.
"What are you making?" Edward asked.
“Honeysuckle,” Jonathan answered, but didn’t elaborate further. Edward stared up at the yellows and oranges and reds and greens stitched into the back of the cloth. He couldn’t see the pattern, but he was sure it was there.
Edward inched a hand along the edge of Jonathan’s hip, feeling along the jutting bone, covered in soft skin. Jonathan didn’t flinch or look down at him. After a few more stitches, he poked the needle into the base fabric and took Edward’s hand lightly, peering past his embroidery hoops to smile down at Edward.
“I’m borin’ you, ain’t I?” he guessed, and Edward sighed.
“I could watch you stitch flowers all day,” he replied. Jonathan set the hoop aside and leaned over Edward, brushing his fingers through his hair. His own hair fell in combed out curls, still a little damp from the shower. Jonathan paused and popped his lips.
“I need a drink,” he remarked flatly.
Edward sat up and went over to the fridge.
“Do we have sweet tea?” he asked, opening the door.
“I think I made some last week,” Jonathan stood up. “I can get it myself, Eddie.”
“I want to get it,” Edward insisted, finding the tea pitcher and removing it from the fridge. “I like taking care of you.”
Jonathan leaned on the counter and pecked Edward on the cheek. “Well then thank you darlin’; that’s sweet.”
“Oh I get a genuine ‘darling’ for getting you tea, I see.”
“Eddie,” Jonathan began, then let out a laugh when Edward hugged him tightly around the waist. Edward returned the cheek peck, then kissed Jonathan tenderly.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly before going to get one of the ice trays and a glass.
Edward filled the glass with ice, then tea, and slid it across the counter to Jonathan. After a few sips, Jonathan opened his arm and Edward slipped into the offered embrace, returning it gently and resting his head on Jonathan’s shoulder.
“Why were you making honeysuckle?” he asked.
“Just practicin’,” Jonathan answered. “It’s for a birthday gift.”
“Let’s see,” Edward said thoughtfully, smirking. “Honeysuckle is the birth flower for the same month as roses. That’s June.”
“Mmhm.”
“And I’m the only person you’d do all that work for that was born in June.”
“Oh, we’re really thinkin’, ain’t we?” Jonathan grinned.
“What’re you planning on making me, Jonny?”
“You’ll have to wait and see like everyone else, Eddie?”
“Ah, how cruel,” Edward joked, kissing Jonathan on his jaw. “My own personal traitor, so beloved, so reviled.”
Jonathan took another long sip, smiling.
“I love you too, Eddie.”