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Antonio glanced at the large brown paper bag in the seat next to him. He peered over the top just to be sure its contents were still wrapped up neatly inside, that they hadn’t been jostled or the wrapping had become rumpled in any way. He grabbed it and tucked it under his jacket as he exited the car, making sure no harm could come to it in the brief jog up the steps home.
Upon opening the door, he was immediately hit with the sweet scent of cinnamon, brown sugar, and vanilla.
“Hey. I’m home,” Hank’s eyes crinkled up at that.
“I can see that. What were you doing out anyway?” Hank gestured at the paper peeking out of Antonio’s jacket while wiping his hands off on a dish towel.
“Alright, listen, I know you’re not really a birthday-type person but,” he pulled a large flat package in flowery paper from the bag, “I got you a little something.” His mouth turned up hopefully as he held it out towards Hank. “Don’t worry, I also got us something to drink,” he added, reaching back into the bag and pulling out a bottle.
“I don’t… I don’t know what to say,” he gingerly held the present, carefully tearing at the tape to reveal a vinyl. It appeared to be new, intact dust cover and all. “I… thank you,” Hank walked over and pulled him into a hug. Antonio realized the aroma of whatever he had been working on in the kitchen had stuck to Hank and breathed it in, wrapping his arms around him.
It was almost over as quickly as it had started, a ding from the kitchen calling Hank’s attention back to the oven. He pulled back slightly with a quick peck, not quite letting go. “I should get back to that.” Antonio nodded and kissed him again with a smile. “They’re for Olive and Daniel.”
“Mmhm.” another nod, followed by another peck.
“They might burn,” a fourth kiss followed by a fifth, slightly softer and deeper this time. He finally pulled away and stopped to set the vinyl by the record player. He opened the oven door and pulled out two trays of fresh, warm oatmeal cookies.
Antonio quietly watched from the dining room as Hank worked, carefully setting the trays to cool while cutting paper and twine to wrap them in. He hesitantly decided to break the comfortable silence.
“They mean unequaled love”
“Hm?” Hank looked up from his work, “What was that?”
“I said they mean unequaled love”
“What? Oatmeal cookies?” Hank laughed, quirking up an eyebrow.
“No,” Antonio chuckled hesitantly in response, “the uh, the flowers, on the paper,” Hank’s eyes flicked towards the gift wrap, now tucked under the record. “The kids picked it out. They looked up the meaning of the flower, well, Eva looked up the meaning of the flower, and that’s apparently what it meant.” Antonio’s voice had begun faltering slightly and he pointedly looked away. They had been together for some time now but Antonio was still unsure about their stance on making overly affectionate gestures like this.
Hank stepped away from the cookies he had been wrapping. He slowly walked to Antonio and placed a gentle hand at the back of his head, touching their foreheads together. He leaned in, softly joining their lips.
“I love you too,” Hank murmured. “How about we give the record a listen and you help me wrap up in the kitchen?”
They reluctantly pulled apart; Antonio began taking cookies off the pans and putting them onto racks to cool; meanwhile, Hank removed the plastic sleeve from the records and turned on the player. The house was soon filled with the dulcet tones of Nat King Cole.
Hank and Antonio continued working in tandem; moving cookies from trays to racks to cool off, then large sheets of parchment paper that was carefully folded into parcels.After a few minutes Hank paused. He moved around the counter and sidled up to Antonio. Wrapping his arms around him, he pressed a kiss to the base of his neck and hummed to the music coming from the record player. Antonio laid a hand over Hank’s, gently stroking a thumb over it. Suddenly, he turned to face Hank and melted back into his embrace and swayed to the soft music.
“I love you,” Antonio soft sang along, “for sentimental reasons. I hope you do believe me, I’ll give you my heart.”
“I love you and you alone were meant for me,” Hank continued. “Please give your loving heart to me, and say we’ll never part.”
“I think of you every morning, dream of you every night. Darling, I’m never lonely, whenever you are in sight,” they whispered to each other.
Hank spoke, “You know, I think this is the best birthday I’ve had in awhile.”
“I’m glad. You deserve it. You’re always driving yourself crazy doing shit for others, you deserve something nice for once.” Antonio cupped Hank’s face, turning it towards him, “You’re amazing and you deserve to be happy, don’t ever forget that. Don’t ever forget that I love you.” Antonio leaned in to kiss him.
Hank stopped swaying to the music and wrapped his arms just a bit tighter around Antonio. He pulled back, “You make me happy. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the presents but… you’re what makes all of this wonderful and amazing and all that other sappy shit. It’s you, honey.” His dark eyes shone in the low lights from the dining room. “How about we take this upstairs? I think there’s still some dessert from the other night and I’m sure you don’t want to be wrapping cookies up for Daniel.”
Hank walked away towards the fridge, pulling out a half empty container while Antonio went upstairs and got into bed.
Antonio had never imagined how sweet and Voight could truly be but there’s something to be said about those moments where it’s just them, soft music streaming from the record player, and the leftovers of whatever sweets Hank had made to send to his grandson.
It’s so incredibly intimate. Yeah there’s obviously the close proximity: their hands close enough to thread together, sharing the same breaths, and he’d never really noticed how soft or gentle Hank’s brown eyes could truly be. There’s that unspoken silence between them; neither of them needs to say anything, “I love you” written in every minute movement of their bodies, every fiber of their being.
No life has ever, or will ever be perfect. But this is pretty goddamn close.