Chapter Text
With a little encouragement from his therapist, Ed continues to knit and show up at the knitting group on Saturdays. He finishes his cowl, learns to cast off, and receives a standing ovation from the group when he first models his cowl.
He learned a new thing. He made a thing. He finished a thing.
There’s just one thing that is bothering him. Offering to help Star refill the mimosas one Saturday gives him a chance to ask for help.
“Well, hi, Ed. Don’t think you’ve been in the backroom before.” Star opens the small fridge, gets out orange juice and champagne.
“Oh, um, I’m here to help.”
“Okay . . .”
“And I was hoping I could ask you something. Can I ask you something? Just between us? I just don’t have any friends and I really need some advice.” Ed takes the orange juice as Star uses her finger to indicate how much to put into the glasses. She gives a little shrug and nod, twisting the wire to open the cage on the champagne cork.
Ed exhales. “Is he flirting with me? He’s flirting with me, right? But you all kinda talk that way, haha funny, and I *know* you aren’t flirting with me. But what about him?” It all tumbles out in a low whisper, right before Star pops the cork on the bottle.
She fills the glasses that Ed has already juiced. “Ed. There’s one way to find out.”
“What’s that?”
Star continues to pour. “Ask him.”
Ed fumbles the orange juice jug, spilling some on the tray. “Ask him? My one friend here—okay, you know what I mean. If I overstep then I lose everyone I have here.”
Star sets the bottle on the counter. “First, that’s not true. You’ll always be a hooker.”
“Yeah, but . . .. Maybe he wouldn’t feel comfortable sitting next to me or helping me. I would miss Stede.” Ed takes a full glass, tilts it back into his mouth.
Star puts a hand on his drinking arm. “Then ask him out on a date. You don’t have to use that word. Just go out, away from the shop. See what happens.” She takes Ed’s glass and refills it with champagne. “Aside from all the nonsense, we are all adults here. He can handle it. The question is, can you?
Ed looks a bit horrified. “Shit. Can we go back to making dick jokes?”
Star pats his arm again. “We’ll always have dick jokes.”
*****
“Ed! You came!” Stede beams from behind the counter of his store. Today he’s wearing his usual cardigan over a purple t-shirt that says “REAL HOOKERS DON’T KNOT” in white letters. Ed only glances at it for a second (WTF) because he can’t get enough of Stede’s smile and wavy blonde hair and dancing hazel eyes. Stede makes him feel like he’s been waiting here all day just for Ed to walk in.
“Hello, Stede. I need a new project. It’s only been four days since I finished my cowl and I miss it. I miss knitting.” Ed hears the words come out of his mouth –these are not the words he rehearsed—then realizes its true.
“Lovely! Any ideas on what you’d like to take on next? A particular type of item or maybe ratchet up the skill level? Any colors come to mind?” Stede is thrilled.
Ed hadn’t thought about that. “Um, well, maybe a knit cap, you know, to match my cowl? That seems like a reasonable goal.” Far more reasonable than what I’ve really walked in here for.
“Wonderful! I have just the yarn and pattern in mind.” Stede moves determinedly to the back right corner of the store. “Have to show you a magic ring to start. Don’t need a video for that – I can show you myself. And you’ll have to learn to knit ribbing – haha! Ribbed for your pleasure. I like a little ribbing. Keeps things snug. Tight even.”
Ed follows Stede to the back of the store.
Stede pulls out a cake of yarn of the same kind as Ed’s cowl, but a slightly different color. “You liked the Noro, yes? Feels good in the hand?”
“Um, yep. Good in my hand."
“Great! I recommend this slightly more subdued colorway for a cap. Don’t want to be too matchy-matchy.” He hands it to Ed. “What do you think?”
“Yeah, it’s good.”
“Okay, so you don’t need DPs. Not yet, at least. You may work up to that.” Stede heads over to the display of needles and hooks and Ed follows. “Ah, this should be perfect.” Stede hands Ed a set of circular needles on a 16-inch cable. “You’ll still be going in the round. If you get bored with the usual, you can always try going into the back loop.”
Stede hustles back to the counter, digging around for something behind it. He comes up with a black canvas bag with the store name and logo on the side. “I should have given you one of these at the start. I apologize for that oversight.” He dives back under the counter again. “And here’s the pattern!” He puts two printed sheets of paper into the bag.
Ed puts the yarn cakes and knitting needles on the counter.
“Was there something else you needed?” Ed has frozen and Stede has noticed.
Ed furrows his brow, shuffles his feet.
“Ed?”
“Ah, I, uh, wondered . . . I thought maybe you’d like to . . . eat out?” Ed tries his best to look up in a sultry way.
Stede’s mouth hangs open, and his hand moves to his chest. “I . . . I don’t know what to say, Ed. That . . . that is rather forward—”
“Shit. Fuck. I mean dinner. Would you like to go to dinner. With me. Tonight. On, like . . . a date.” Ah, I’ve just fucked it up. At least we’ll always have dick jokes.
“Oh,” Stede says, then closes his mouth.
“Fuck. Never mind. Can we just forget I said that? Just let me know how much I owe you for the . . . stuff and I’ll be out of your way.” Ed feels his face burn.
Stede comes around from behind the counter to stand in front of Ed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Ed. I would love to have dinner. With you. Tonight. On a date.”
“Really?” Ed croaks.
“I would love that.” Stede nods as he says it.
Ed leans his cheek against Stede’s hand. “Me, too.”
Stede squeezes his shoulder. “Just let me get my coat and close up. Oh, and put your new yarn and needles in your bag.”
Ed puts the items in the canvas bag on the counter. “How much do I owe you?”
Stede comes out from the back room with his coat. “Oh, I’ll just put it on your tab, if that’s alright. I’ll enjoy having you under my thumb.” He winks.
And Ed laughs. A big, open, probably (definitely) embarrassing real laugh. “God, how do you *do* that??”
“Ah,” Stede says breezily, “it’s a gift, I know. A useless gift, but it’s fun.” He heads toward the shop front door, hand hovering over the light switch. “Ready?”
“Yup,” Ed says, grabbing his bag off the counter.
Stede opens the door for Ed, turns off the lights, locks the door behind them.
They walk up the street toward a number of restaurants. “You know, you really had me worried there,” Stede admits.
“What?” Ed stops in his tracks. “Why?”
“Um, well, you just suddenly . . . propositioned me. Not that it’s unwelcome, by any means, what with you being so . . . anyway, I reckon I’m just not used to it.”
Ed stares at him. “You what?”
“I’m not used to being propositioned quite . . . so . . . openly . . .” Stede looks at his feet. It’s dark out, but the streetlights illuminate Stede’s face enough for Ed to see his distress, his dismay.
Ed hooks his arm into Stede’s arm, and starts again up the sidewalk. “Mate, you should hear the other lines I had memorized to ask you out. That may have been the least awful one.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Fuck, mate. The horrible stuff I looked up and memorized for you.”
Stede slides his hand into Ed’s hand. “Do tell.”
“Want a raisin? No? Well, how about a date?”
Stede giggles. “I hate raisins and dates, so it’s good you didn’t go there.”
“I'd take you to the movies, but they don't let you bring in your own snacks,” Ed continues.
“Wait,” Stede says, “I don’t get that one.”
“Then I’m glad I didn’t use it,” Ed says, squeezing Stede’s hand. “Okay, how about this? You must be exhausted because you've been running through my mind all day.”
“Oh, that’s a good one. I’m not exhausted, mind you, so I’m not sure what that says.”
“No bother. How about: do you wash your jeans in Windex? ...because I can see myself in them.” Ed glances sideways at Stede.
Stede just shakes his head. “I reckon we’re close to the same size, I guess, but—”
Ed stops and pulls Stede by the hand close to him, so they are almost chest to chest. “You know what would look great on you? Me.”
Ed kisses Stede gently on the lips.
Stede blushes. “Okay, I kinda get that one.”