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The sky is blue and clear of clouds in a way that makes Jonathan grateful that he gets to sit under the cover of a canopy. By the time it won't be of any use against the sun's angle, he'll be halfway finished with breaking everything back down until the next week. Until then, he's content enough to stay right where he is, watching and waiting as customers come in waves to check out this week's wares at their local farmers' market.
Even with the shade from the canopy overhead, Jonathan finds himself wishing he had brought some sunglasses. At the table beside him, Steve is sporting his usual Ray-Bans, completely unaffected by the glare of light that occasionally reflects off of the phones of those ambling around the tables. When he catches Jonathan watching him, he grins. Jonathan doesn't need to see his eyes to know he's winking, too. He shakes his head, turning his attention to the couple admiring some of his mother's pottery.
Steve's voice carries easily over as he says, "Worth every penny."
Both of them look up when Steve speaks. One of them— a woman with dark wavy hair and eyes hidden behind sunglasses of her own— looks between Steve and Jonathan and back again. She isn't the first person to be confused over being addressed by someone from a different table. Jonathan had been taken by surprise the first time it happened, too. After a year of the same, he's gotten used to it.
"I've got, like, four of those mugs at home," Steve tells him, pointing to the set of wide handled mugs that they'd been looking at. He pushes his sunglasses on top of his head; easier to charm them that way. Or at least that's how it looks to Jonathan when he does this. "They're great."
It works just like it always seems to; far better than Jonathan can usually manage on his own. He's never been the best salesperson. People are not his strong suit; he's much better at photographing them than he is at talking to them, let alone charming anyone.
It never bothered him before his mother asked him to take over selling her pieces for him. She's always been so much better at drawing customers in. He remembers sitting with her at these things as a kid, a stack of children's books at his side, and watching her make it look easy.
She thinks he's gotten better at it over time, given how much he sells each week. And he doesn't do terribly. But he knows that most of it isn't him.
"Thanks," he says when they've left. Steve is in the middle of his own sale; a pint of ice cream and a bag of chocolate chip cookies. The ice cream is his parents' doing. It doesn't earn him any favors with a majority of the sellers here; the business is successful enough on its own that there's little need for them to set up a table at a farmers' market of all places.
The cookies, though. Those are all Steve. All of the baked goods spread out across his table— various cookie flavors and sizes, brownies, a small assortment of hand pies decorated with hearts or stars or pinecones of all things— are made by him.
His wink is fully visible this time as he sits back down.
Unable to curb the urge, Jonathan raises his eyebrows at him and says, "There are definitely more than four of these mugs at home."
Steve laughs, head thrown back and giving Jonathan a clear view of his neck. Peeking out of the edge of his shirt is a still-healing hickey. It's hard to stop staring even when it disappears back under the fabric. Not so hard, though, when it means Steve's watching him again in return.
"Hey," Steve says softly, kicking his foot in Jonathan's direction. They're too far apart for it to reach, but Jonathan smiles at the gesture. "At least four of them are mugs I brought with me when moved in."
"That's true," Jonathan concedes, leaning back in his seat and stretching his own leg out towards Steve. His boyfriend's grin widens. He knocks his foot against Jonathan's now that he can reach.
They continue to sit like that until more people meander over to browse. By the time the sun begins to peek just under the edge of the canopy, their tables will be a little more bare. They'll break everything down together, and go home together, too.
For now, Jonathan is happy to let Steve charm a few more people into buying something from both of them.