Work Text:
It had begun almost begrudgingly. He hadn’t wanted to do it. But he had, out of sheer necessity. Or at least that’s the lie he told himself.
“We could just order them,” Patrick had pointed out oh-so logically, “From the place that makes our labels. I’m sure they’d do up some gift tags too. And maybe even greeting cards if we asked.”
David had rolled his eyes, so long suffering. “But then they won’t be hand made,” David informed him. “And we have a reputation to uphold, for Artisinal hand made products.”
Patrick had relented with a shrug of his shoulders and a shake of his head. And that is how David found himself ensconced in Gwen’s (oh... so that’s Gwen...) craft room one afternoon getting lessons on card craft.
She introduced him to the different weights of card stock in a frankly baffling array of colours, textures and patterns; she told him about the different inks and how they reacted with the different papers; she showed him how to get ink on the stamp without leaving little smudges around the edges that would muddy the otherwise crisp, precise line of the image when stamped on the paper.
There were accessories too! Ribbons, sparkles, pearls, special pens for drawing, washi tape...
It was a little overwhelming to think of all the possible combinations, but it occurred to David that it was not unlike making a small mood board, designed for a specific person, to express a specific sentiment.
The first card he made was... well, it was far from perfect. He’d smudged the ink a bit when lifting the stamp, and the paper he’d used hadn’t been cut exactly symmetrically and it bothered him. A lot.
But the look on Patrick’s face when he sheepishly presented the fruit of his labour made him feel something, way down inside. Something very like pride.
“Y-you made this?” Patrick asked, taking the card in his hands and running a finger over the surface. “David, it’s... wow babe. That’s really beautiful.”
David ducked his head and felt his cheeks flushing with warmth to match Patrick’s words.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah!” Patrick leaned across the counter and pressed a kiss to David’s lips. “I can’t believe you made this for me!”
David opened his mouth, then closed it. He’d made it for the store, as a sample. But, well, wasn’t Patrick the best part of the store?
He smiled as he watched Patrick carefully affix the card to the wall, just below their business licence.