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Stede was staring at his laptop, brows furrowed, frowning, as Ed padded quietly up behind him.
“Working hard, mate?” Ed spoke from directly behind him, looking over his shoulder at the blank page on the screen.
Stede gasped, startled. Then, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I’m stuck.”
“Well, what are you working on, love?”
“It’s silly…”
Ed dropped a kiss on the crown of Stede’s head, “So?”
“Okay. So, there’s a thing that some people are doing online, where you get a prompt each day and–”
“Stede, are you doing kinktober a month late?!” A smile spread across Ed’s face.
“What? No! Ed, it’s slowvember. You get relaxing prompts and you’re supposed to ‘do your okayest.’ Kind of half-ass it as much as you want, you know?”
“So, you’re stuck because you’re a recovering perfectionist who struggles to half-ass things?” Another kiss, this time on the shell of Stede’s ear.
Stede turned to look at his husband, his face screwed up in mock indignation and trying to suppress a grin. “No, dear. I’m stuck because I don’t understand today’s prompt.”
A peck on the lips. “What’s the prompt?”
“Slowracer.”
“What the fuck is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it like Speed Racer, but slow?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe something about the tortoise and the hare?”
“ I don’t know, Ed! ”
“I know what I’d do.”
Stede hummed. “What would you do?”
“I’d go the Speed Racer route. But with snails.”
“Snails was day 1, dearest.”
“So? Do the rules say you can’t reuse something?”
“There aren’t any rules, Ed. Just do your okayest.”
“Okay, so Speed Racer with snails. Like, he’d have a little neckerchief and that cute helmet like in the Speed Racer cartoons, but he never makes it to the race on time.”
“Why doesn’t he just leave for the race earlier?”
“That’s the thing, love. He does . But he ends up stopping to help a bunch of people. Like a little old lady snail crossing the street and a toddler slug who’s lost. So by the time he gets there the race is half over. But he goes for it anyway - he’s determined to finish the race no matter what. And he’s still out there after everyone is done, and all the other racers are cheering him on. And finally he crosses the finish line. And he’s elated, because that was his goal, right, to finish the race. And he feels so accomplished because he fucking did it! And the other racers make up an award special for him - Most Determined Racer - and present it to him, and it’s just a fucking beautiful moment, mate.” Ed paused to sniffle and wipe tears from the corners of his eyes.
“Well, that’s a lovely story,” Stede looked at him fondly, “do you want to write it for today’s prompt fill? It’s far better than anything I could think of.”
Ed gave him a watery smile. “You’d be okay with that?”
“I’d be the okayest, darling.”
Ed kissed him soundly and sat down in his lap, moving the computer to a more comfortable position. “Okay, so we open on a tiny mushroom house. It’s early morning…”