Work Text:
“Can’t we just order online?” Linhardt curls into the couch, nestled among the pillows. He’s warm and cozy, and has no desire to get up. “I don’t see why we have to go to IKEA in person.”
“It’s better in person!” Caspar exclaims. “There’s an ambiance. A smell! The sounds! We can’t pick out furniture without all of that.”
Linhardt beams. “That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”
Caspar smiles. “But?”
Linhardt rolls his eyes. The ‘I love you’ in response is implied, and after another long, drawn-out sigh he stands. “Fine. But you’re pushing me in the cart.”
The way that Caspar’s face lights up makes up for the interruption of his nap. Linhardt doesn’t say anything, but he takes Caspar’s hand as they head out the door, and that’s word enough.
-
As soon as they step into IKEA, Caspar bounds away. He returns moments later with a cart and a smile on his face that even Linhardt can’t say no to. “You wanted me to push you,” Caspar says.
Linhardt had been mostly joking, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he climbs into the cart and relaxes, tipping his head back to look at Caspar. His boyfriend looks happy, content to push Linhardt around the store like an overgrown toddler while he points out every little thing he finds exciting. It’s endearing, and Linhardt feels himself warming to the idea that this IKEA trip is both necessary and a date.
“We should get a shark,” Caspar says, interrupting Linhardt’s picturesque silence. “A Blagha.”
Linhardt looks back at him. “A what?”
“You know, a Blagha.”
Linhardt stifles a laugh. “You mean a Blahaj?”
“That’s what I said,” Caspar protests. “You can’t seriously be making fun of me for not being able to pronounce some dumb made up word!”
“It’s based on Swedish. Please tell me you know that Sweden is a real country.” Linhardt scoots a little further up the cart, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics.
“Whatever.” Caspar pushes the cart, cutting off any further teasing until Linhardt finds a comfortable position.
He sighs. “We can get a shark.”
Caspar brightens immediately, turning the cart so suddenly that Linhardt gets thrown against the side. He grimaces, but his boyfriend’s enthusiasm is contagious, and he can’t help his small smile as Caspar pulls to an overdramatic stop next to the large, plush sharks. “You have to get out and help,” Caspar says.
Linhardt arches an eyebrow. “Help? How am I supposed to help?”
Caspar looks at him as though he’s sprouted a second head. “Adoption isn’t a solitary process, babe. I thought you knew that. We have to both be part of this decision.”
Linhardt scrubs a hand over his face. “Right. Yes. Of course. How could I have been so foolish?”
Caspar shrugs. “Who knows! Sometimes you get some pretty funny ideas.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Linhardt says, but it’s fond.
He climbs out of the cart with minimal complaining, then stands next to Caspar, slightly disgruntled. As soon as he’s at his boyfriend’s side, Caspar leans against him and takes his hand. Linhardt bites back a smile, squeezing Caspar’s hand. He’s always loved that Caspar is never afraid to express his emotions, no matter where they are or who might see. Once those emotions extended to loving Linhardt? Well, Linhardt was a goner.
“We’re moving in together,” Caspar says, a little quieter. “It’s like… what if we wanted a cat? Or a dog?”
“And a stuffed shark is a good substitute?”
“Exactly!” Caspar grins, wide and goofy, and Linhardt can’t help but be even more endeared to him. If they were at home, he’d lean in and kiss him, but for now he just settles for bumping their shoulders together and looking down at the plush sharks with a renewed focus.
They all look the same to him, but he knows that’s not true for Caspar, so Linhardt leans forward and scrutinizes them before finally plucking one from the container. “This one,” he says.
Caspar frowns. “Are you sure?”
A flicker of protectiveness goes through Linhardt, which is ridiculous considering that this is a stuffed shark he picked at random. Still, it’s his stuffed shark, and he doesn’t understand why Caspar doesn’t like it. They all look the same! “What’s wrong with him?”
Caspar shrugs. “I thought maybe you didn’t actually care and were just humoring me. I wanted to check.”
“I mean, I don’t see the point in getting a shark, but you want one, so I do too.”
Caspar softens, a small smile making its way onto his face. “Really?”
A rush of affection shoots through Linhardt. He steps closer, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to Caspar’s cheek. “I know I’m not always… excited,” he says. “You have an enthusiasm for everything that I can’t hope to match. But,” his mouth twists, “I like you. And so I care about things you like. Even if they’re giant stuffed sharks.”
Caspar’s face lights up. He throws his arms around Linhardt, pressing a kiss to his lips. “You are the nicest, sweetest boyfriend in the world,” Caspar says. “I love you, and I love this shark. Can we call him Nathaniel?”
Linhardt snorts. “I love you too, you fool. Of course we can call him Nathaniel.”
Caspar helps Linhardt climb back into the cart, and as soon as he’s settled, his arms wrapped firmly around Nathaniel the Shark, Caspar takes off. He races through the IKEA at a speed that is definitely going to get them both in trouble, running without any discernible sense of direction. Linhardt laughs, clutching Nathaniel a little closer as Caspar runs.
When they do stop, Linhardt has no idea where they are. IKEA’s a huge store, after all, and wherever they are is… not a part he recognizes. They’re in the warehouse, maybe? IKEA has a warehouse, he’s pretty sure.
Caspar stops. “Um. Do you know where we are?”
Linhardt rolls his eyes. “You’re the one that ran here!”
Caspar shrugs, hapless as always. “I was just running. I thought it’d be fun.”
It was fun, but Linhardt doesn’t say that. Instead, he sighs in a terribly put-upon way and climbs out of the cart, leaving Nathaniel behind. “Let me see,” he says, gently.
Caspar pulls out the store map they give out at the entrance, frowning at it. Linhardt walks up behind him, hooking his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulder and looking down at the map. It only takes him a second to see what the problem is; Caspar’s holding it upside down. It’s obvious that Caspar is trying hard to make this fun for him though, so Linhardt reaches an arm around Caspar’s waist and rests his hand on top of his boyfriend’s. “I think the map’s upside down.”
Caspar laughs. “It is, huh? It’s so confusing here that I couldn’t even tell.”
“Mm,” Linhardt says. He sighs, suddenly tired. This happens to him sometimes - he’ll be fine, and then a wave of exhaustion will hit him and he’ll want nothing more than to lay down and sleep. “Do you know where we are?”
“In the warehouse, I think.” Caspar frowns down at the map in his hands. “I know how to get back to the housing section. I ran right past it, I think.”
He gently disentangles himself from Linhardt, then turns around to see his boyfriend swaying lightly on his feet. Caspar laughs. “Sleepy Linhardt, huh?”
Linhardt frowns. “I’m always sleepy.”
“I know,” Caspar says. “Here, climb back into the cart and let me push you around!” Caspar has this desire to take care of him that Linhardt will never fully understand, but he smiles and lets himself be helped back into the cart, reclining with Nathaniel resting safely in his arms.
Their trip back to the room displays is quiet. Linhardt’s contemplating giving up on the prospect of finding a couch and dozing off instead. But alas, it’s not in the cards. Caspar screeches to a stop next to the display rooms, and Linhardt opens his eyes, letting out a sigh as he’s jostled awake. “These aren’t couches.”
“Well, yeah,” Caspar admits, “but it’s like a little mini apartment! There’s a kitchen! We can pretend we live together!”
Linhardt hauls himself out of the cart. “Caspar, we do live together.”
Caspard shrugs. “Yeah, but we don’t live together in a posh IKEA apartment. Come on, let me give you the tour!”
He takes Linhardt’s hand, tugging him into the display. The kitchen cabinets in this room are a dark walnut that Linhardt finds quite tasteful, and as Caspar prattles on about how there’s a dishwasher and plenty of space for them to cook, Linhardt lets himself get lost in the little fantasy. The apartment they’ve just moved into is small and cramped, but it’s theirs, and their first big step as a couple. Linhardt is excited, if only for the possibility of what it brings.
This kitchen, though, feels like a kitchen for a house. Not anything too big - Linhardt isn’t his father, he doesn’t need anything self-aggrandizing - but big enough for Linhardt’s books, and Caspar’s training equipment, and a dining room table big enough to have friends over, if they ever want to.
He curls a little closer to Caspar, holding onto his arm. “What else is there?”
Caspar glances over at him. “Oh! Since you asked!”
He pulls him into the next room, going through the open doorway into a bedroom. It’s minimalist, and not at all the kind of style that would be able to exist with the amount of stuff they have, but it’s pretty. The bed has a plush headboard behind it, and bedside tables with plants on them. Linhardt drifts over to the bed, sitting down while Caspar walks around the room, pointing at each accessory and explaining, in depth, what the point of it is. Linhardt lets out a soft laugh, leaning back against the headboard and smiling fondly at his boyfriend.
“And this,” Caspar says, gesturing to a picture on the wall, “will improve the room’s overall mood. You’ll have good dreams, guaranteed!”
Linhardt laughs, his eyes drifting shut. Caspar doesn’t seem to notice, continuing to talk through each and every feature in the bedroom. Sleep takes Linhardt so gently that he doesn’t even notice, a soft sigh loosing itself from his lips.
He wakes to a gentle hand on his waist. “Lin?”
Linhardt opens his eyes. He’s in bed, curled on his side with Caspar next to him. He yawns. “Hello.”
“You fell asleep,” Caspar explains.
“I often do.” Linhardt’s eyes are already starting to droop closed again.
“We’re at the store still!” Caspar jostles him again, and Linhardt sighs. “You know,” Caspar continues, “this is what it’s going to be like for the rest of our lives.”
A strange warmth blooms in Linhardt’s chest. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Caspar says. “We’re going to wake up in the same bed in the morning, and fall asleep next to each other.”
Linhardt sighs. “Well, there’s worse things, I suppose.”
Caspar laughs, then surges forward to kiss Linhardt. It’s slow and soft, and takes Linhardt completely by surprise. He relaxes into the kiss, reaching forward to rest a hand on Caspar’s waist.
“Um, excuse me.”
Linhardt breaks away from Caspar with a start. There’s a disgruntled IKEA employee looking down at them, a small frown on her face. “I’m sorry, but this is a display area. You’re not supposed to sleep on these beds, much less, um, make out on them?”
Caspar sits up. “Right. Sorry.”
“I think you should check out and then leave,” the woman says. “At the very least, I can’t permit you to continue looking around in this section.”
Linhardt laughs - it’s so ludicrous, being kicked out of IKEA for behaving like lovestruck teenagers. He stands, brushing a hand through his hair. “Right. Whatever you want.” He turns to Caspar. “We should grab Nathaniel and go, then.”
Caspar nods. “Right.”
It’s not until they’re safely back home in their apartment that Linhardt realizes they didn’t buy a couch. “Crap.”
Caspar laughs, sitting down on their living room’s barren floor with Nathaniel the shark. “It’s fine,” he says. “We can just order one online.”