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Stede stood at the window, tea in hand, watching the neighbor’s rubbish bin float down the street, which had become a shallow stream the previous day. Luckily, Tropical Storm Chauncey had been downgraded to a tropical depression before it made landfall, so they had gotten rain and wind, but no major damage. It didn’t look like the flooding would reach their door, but Ed had insisted that they fortify all of the exterior doors with sandbags just to be safe, and now that they were on the third straight day of rain, he appreciated Ed’s foresight.
Normally, Stede would be going stir crazy being stuck in the house for this long - not that he wanted to go anywhere; it was more that he wanted to be able to go somewhere if he chose - but that was B.E., Before Ed. Now, he wanted nothing more than to spend every moment with his precious Ed. The nature of their jobs meant that one of them was usually gone for days at a time for work. So, Stede was reveling in their current situation: he had woken up in Ed’s warm arms, to his beautiful sleep-softened face and light snoring, three whole days in a row. Three whole days of quiet domesticity, of cooking and cleaning peppered with casual touches and kisses, of slow dancing in the living room and murmured sweet nothings during movies, of long nights together without the guillotine of an early morning departure hanging over them. Stede smiled into his cup; he was going to relish every second of bliss provided him by the deluge outside for as long as possible.
Soft strains of music coming from the garage caught Stede’s attention. He padded to the open door, and leaned against the jamb, arms crossed over his chest. Ed was working on his bike, singing along to the new Carly Rae Jepsen album, completely in the zone and unaware that he had an audience. Stede clocked the moment that Ed realized that he wasn’t alone.
A smile slowly spread across Ed’s face, and without looking up, he said, “Well, hello, love. Been standing there long?”
“Not too long. Just enjoying the view.”
Ed paused, mid-turn of the wrench, and looked up. “Is that so?”
“Mmhmm.”
“See something you like?”
“Mmm, you know I’m a sucker for a man who’s good with his hands.”
Ed dropped the wrench and stood up. “Mr. Bonnet-Teach, are you trying to seduce me?”
Stede bit his bottom lip and tried to look innocent, “I don’t know what you mean. I was just making an observation.” He looked up at Ed from beneath long blonde lashes.
Ed stalked around his bike toward the door, eyes locked on Stede. “And you know I’m a sucker for a blonde with bedhead wearing fuzzy socks and my Fleetwood Mac t-shirt.” He leaned in for a kiss.
“Nuh-uh,” Stede pulled back out of reach. “You’re not getting my new Fleetwood Mac t-shirt gunked up with motorcycle goop.”
Ed growled. “Give me five minutes to get this grease off and I’ll show you just how good I am with my hands… among other things.”
“Five minutes, Mr. Teach-Bonnet, and then I’m starting without you.”
Ed’s eyes widened. “Get out of my way, love!” He started to slide past Stede in the doorway, arms up to keep his greasy hands out of the way.
When Ed was directly across from him in the doorway, Stede said, “Oh, hey, Ed?”
“Yeah?”
Stede leaned in quickly, planted a kiss on Ed’s lips, and took off down the hall, giggling the whole way.
Ed watched him disappear into their bedroom and huffed out a laugh. “Okay, Teach,” he said to himself, “you have five minutes. Let’s see if you can make it three.”