Work Text:
“You bastard!”
Adam hears the yell from somewhere else in the house, followed by loud, heavy footsteps towards the bedroom where he’s currently writing. A second later Blake enters and lays his laptop in front of Adam, and says, with utter disgust painted on his face, “I can’t believe you did that!”
Adam has no idea what he’s talking about; the laptop shows a website with a pair of jeans, and then he spots his name.
“Why were you looking up my clothing line for?” Adam laughs
“Don’t change the subject,” Blake grumbles. “Look at the jeans!”
“Yeah,” Adam says. “And?”
“What are they called?”
“The Tishomingo,” Adam admits. “I thought you’d be honored!”
“THEY HAVE HOLES IN THEM!” Blake cries, exasperated, as though putting holes in new jeans and selling them was a crime against humanity. “You expect people to buy these jeans named after my town even though they’re ripped already, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Adam holds up his hands in defense, “I think it looks great! And don’t think you can lecture me about fashion, I have way too many pictures of your mullet on my phone.”
But Blake looks so upset, Adam can’t help but laugh, and stands up to kiss him. Blake almost doesn’t let him, but gives in anyway, mollified for now.
A couple of days later, Adam walks downstairs, dressed in his usual plaid shirt and jeans, to find Blake already up and dressed, eating breakfast in the kitchen. Grinning he goes over for a kiss, but stops short when he sees what he’s wearing.
“Are those my jeans?”
Blake looks down, and shrugs. “I got over it.”
Adam is kind of shocked; he never expected Blake to wear his clothes ever, but they look good on him. Like, really good. The fit is perfect, and even though he wears jeans all the time, the little rips and distresses in the fabric making him look positively trendy. Adam can’t help but grin and hook his hands in the belt loops, pulling Blake towards him for a kiss. It’s only 9am, but the kiss makes both of them want to head back to bed.
“By the way,” Blake says wrapping his arms tighter around Adam. “That’s my shirt you’ve got on.”
