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A ladybug settles into place on his finger, and Tango takes a moment to admire it before it flies off in a blur of red and black. He sighs, closing his eyes to bask in the june warmth, a pleasant breeze brushing through his hair.
He shifts the basket in his arm, reaching out with his free hand to scrutinize and pluck a strawberry from the bush. They were coming in nicely, he notes, turning it in his hand to see the pretty red color it took on. Tango hums, placing it in the basket before moving on to the next. Summer heat was starting to roll in, the sky missing most of its clouds and allowing beams of light to shine down.
He pauses, noticing movement in his peripheral, and raises his head to look past the strawberry bushes.
Jimmy was sitting down on his haunches in the grassy field in their garden, looking at something Tango couldn't see from this angle. He wears a red bandana around his head to keep his bangs out of his face, and Tango’s fingers subconsciously raise to his own matching bandana, resting around his neck in a muted shade of blue. If he looked further past his crouched down form, Tango could see the creek that Jimmy likes to hang out by, and even further past that he could see the wooden fence that marks their neighbor’s property line.
(“We have our own cows, hon,” Tango had shouted, his hands cupped over his mouth. It was in the first few months they moved here, and Jimmy’s arm reached over the orange stained fence to run a hand across the back of the cow–their neighbor’s cow, because leave it to him to jump across a creek to pet cows.
“I’m just petting them!” Jimmy shouted back, a bright smile on his face. Tango had to force himself to look away.)
Jimmy was supposed to be harvesting their lettuce right now – as per the job he assigned himself – but stars know that both of them are easily distractible, let alone when together. Jimmy looks up at him, sunlight angling just right to make his hair look golden, his brown eyes sparkling like honey that Tango nearly loses himself in.
The blonde waves him over, and he's setting the basket down and walking over before he even knew what he was doing. Jimmy rises from the ground to meet him (Tango would forever envy the head the other had on him in height) and holds his face in his hands to place a daisy behind his ear, and Tango really hopes he can’t feel how warm his cheeks are.
“Go get the lettuce, harvest boy,” he teases with a grin, patting him on the shoulder. Jimmy smiles sheepishly, leaning down to peck him on the cheek before dancing off towards the lettuce patch, and Tango feels helplessly soft.
It’s a little silly, Tango thinks as he walks back over to the strawberry bushes – his basket reacquired and his task continued, to have a crush on someone you're dating. He still gets butterflies whenever Jimmy smiles at him, still blushes when they hold hands. He wants to kiss each and every freckle he has, to bundle up in blankets and cuddle with warm drinks in the winter, to hold him and be held and stay as close to him as physically possible.
And if he was creative in that way he would write as many books of poetry about him as he could, paint stacks of portraits until he could sketch him by heart, serenade him with pages of lyrics of handwritten songs dedicated to him. Tango wants and wants and wants, and even if he gets he’ll still want.
And later, when they’re done with their tasks for the day, Jimmy will pull him into the same field in their garden and they’ll laugh as they dance barefoot in patches of daisies to the sound of the creek, the sunset painting the sky in oranges and pinks and making Jimmy look like hes glowing.
Later, when it gets too dark to stay outside, they’ll head inside their cottage and Tango will make puree out of the strawberries he harvested while Jimmy sits on the kitchen counter and rambles about meaningless things, and he’ll hang onto every word because he likes hearing the others voice. Jimmy will sneak a strawberry from the basket, and Tango will pretend not to notice.
Later, when the stars sparkle in the night sky, they’ll settle into bed. Tango will curl into the empty spot between Jimmy’s arms and Jimmy will rest his chin in Tango’s hair, and they’ll tangle their legs in a knot, so close together that it's no longer clear where one begins and the other ends.
For now, though, he picks strawberries, and watches the other dig up bulbs of lettuce from the dirt.