Work Text:
It was a peaceful day, all things considered. The wind was calm, just enough to leave a pleasant chill, juxtaposing the heat of the sun as it peeked behind soft clouds. While the weather itself was nice, the tension in the air was anything but.
Kingsly looked over the small clearing, ideas swirling around in his racing mind. This may be one of the most ambitious things he had gotten himself into, something that would take time and money, a big responsibility to shoulder.
Such a project was years in the making, at least in concept. It was a way to involve the local community and teach the school-aged children valuable life skills; a garden large enough to grow all the fruits, vegetables and flowers the locals desired. Where he could supervise, give a helping hand or offer tips when the need arises. Though, it was still in the works. After all, he had only just found an adequate place to start construction.
He bit his thumb, groaning at the frustrating lack of supplies, moreover the funds he’d have to cough up to afford such supplies. Not to mention all the tools…
Puddle themself was having a hard time, jumping from phone call to phone call as their partner was out in the town. They crossed a name off a list as their most recent call came to an end.
They weren’t thrilled to postpone this many appointments. Hell, their last client damn near talked their ear off in an attempt to change their mind! But they had a lot they needed to prepare over the next few weeks, working full time during this just wouldn’t cut it, not with Kingsly tending to his own new project. With a sigh, they dialled the next number.
No response this time around. They moved down the list, dreading the next inevitable argument.
—
Thankfully, after a few long months a neighbour had come to assist Kingsly in his new goal, having recently torn down an old shed of his. The weak, rotting wood could only last him so long, but it was a start at least. He thanked the older gentleman, picturing the garden of his dreams before he was even half way home.
He wasn’t exactly much of an artist, that much became glaringly obvious now that he was sitting at the kitchen table, idly tapping his pen against the wooden surface. Come to think of it, he wasn’t nearly as keen on architecture as he was flowers, that was much more his brother’s speed. The longer he dwelled on his embarrassing lack of experience, the more he began to regret starting this stupid project.
No. It wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t like this endeavour was hopeless from the get-go. He just needed some help, some expertise he was clearly lacking. As he idled, he became just a little more hopeful. He figured he could call Peke later that night, he’d be happy to help.
Ah, he could see it now… the blooming flower beds that the children could help tend to, raised planter boxes to appeal to his older neighbours, the folks who couldn’t quite bend down or kneel to reach the dirt like the youngins could, a humble sunshade to protect from both rain and shine while allowing the beloved garden to get its fill of water and sunlight. While the others may not have the same passion for gardening as he, there was still hope that his dreams could come to life, that he could share his joy and connect with the community.
And just what could he grow? There was so much to choose from after all, so many colours and shapes that could either compliment or clash with their neighbours. Many are tough, others more delicate, requiring more care to thrive. He could choose exclusively native flowers, encouraging the townsfolk to appreciate what they may have otherwise taken for granted, or he could opt for more variety, though that brings back the issue of colours clashing…
Kingsly hummed, eyes falling shut as he mulled it over, “Snapdragons? No, too much. Daffodils? Too little. Hm…”
“Daisy…”
“Too… cartoony.” Puddle sighed, scribbling out the suggestion. “Chrysanthe- where does he come up with this stuff?!”
A blackboard full of ideas, while originally set up to help their indecision, was now starting to give them a headache. Everything about this was giving them a headache.
Stars, they thought they had covered all their bases, but now that months had passed, it was all suddenly too much to handle.
Kingsly’s mother had told them not to stress so much about choosing names, meeting their impatience with the knowledge that “it isn’t a race, something will come to you in time, there’s no need to force it.” Despite it all, they couldn’t help but worry.
Help. They needed someone to help, someone much more experienced if they wanted a chance to do something right. More experienced… Bee!
She was a real peach the last time they had met, full of wonderful stories and sage advice. If there was anyone who could offer assistance, it would be her. And as it were, she was only a phone call away. The knowledge of that brought them some comfort. She and Peke would be thrilled to see them again, they were sure!
Puddle took in a deep breath, relaxing in their seat. Alright, now they need to bring their focus back to that list.
What a hefty list of names it was, one that the couple spent an all-nighter brainstorming, only to make more additions whenever a new idea came up. Because of all the late additions, there was an awful lot to sift through. Nothing was really fitting right.
But as they sat back with a hot cup of tea, they found the action almost soothing, something to occupy their mind as they awaited the arrival of their new decorations. They much preferred the monotony of sorting through names over the anxious pacing that led them to making the list in the first place. All that stress wouldn’t do them any favours, not in their condition.
They looked to the next name on the blackboard, chuckling.
“Ichor… poetic, but not quite right."
—
Another month, another breakthrough. With help from Peke, Kingsly found himself making great progress. He had put together a sort of prototype planter box, using the weaker materials to experiment while he had his brother there to offer help. What he came up with was a little shoddy in quality, but with its own small town charm he held so close to his heart.
After all that trial and error, he had come up with some measurements and the knowledge of how to handle a hammer and drill. Thank the stars for that, with all that was going on, they wouldn’t have the money for a sudden hospital visit. Now all he needed was some good quality fertilizer and enough seeds to make a start, then he had to make the last of the planters and finalise his concept and chip away at the actual construction and…
He was about as excited as one can be when they’re still overwhelmed by a multitude of incomplete tasks, but excited all the same. There was still a long way to go, but he felt the effort he had put in thus far was really starting to come up with good results.
He looked over his blueprints with a smile on his face. Now that he had completed his concepts and made a real start, he was eager to show off his work. Puddle shouldn’t be too far, they hadn’t left the house in a while. Just too busy to manage, the poor thing. So he made that his mission, find Puddle and give them a helping hand if need be.
As if on cue, he heard their voice calling out to him from the nursery.
“Kings, honey, can you come here?”
Puddle’s arms shook as they held onto a full box, gently kicking another one along the floor. A small stack had accumulated just outside the door of the nursery, too short for them to reach now. With their hands full, their helplessness became even more infuriating.
Thankfully, Kingsly was quick to come to their aid. He seemed a little surprised at the load they were carrying, growing more concerned when he saw how shaky they had gotten.
“Let me take those, dear. You should be resting!”
While relieved to hand off the boxes, they still managed a half-hearted glare..
“Stars, I’m not made of glass!”
Kingsly raised an eyebrow, but all the same he held strong. They figured it was no use fighting, he was trying to help after all… and perhaps a small break would do them some good. At least they’d have a front row seat to watch him work, that would certainly make their inactivity a little more bearable.
They sat down in an old rocking chair in a huff, the furniture adorned with gorgeous floral carvings. It was a gift from Kingsly’s mother, thrilled to pass such a pretty piece onto them now that she wasn’t using it. They ran their fingers along the grooves and meticulous etchings. The strain on their back eased as they melted into the comfort, and they looked up to admire the view.
The walls, painted in soft yellows and pinks, were decorated with pressed flowers and framed photos. The windows were left open to air out the room, allowing the sweet smells of the garden to replace the unpleasant scent of drying paint. In the centre of it all was Kingsly, looking as pretty as ever as he strode across the room, gently placing the boxes on a bench so he could open them. Even then, he had to bend down low to fiddle with the stubborn tape and, well, it wasn’t like they’d want to look away.
All too soon, he gave up on trying to tear through the plastic empty handed. He made his way to the chair where Puddle was sitting, grumbling all the while. Given their position, he towered over them.
Puddle hummed, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Need a break already?” they giggled.
“No, not yet, I need to get some scissors.”
“Well I don’t have any on me.”
“I know, I just wanted to look at you first.”
“Oh, you sap!”
The playful remark didn’t stop them from pulling him in for a kiss, smiling against his lips.
—
Kingsly waited by the tap, listening to the pleasant sound of running water as he filled up his watering can. The blazing sun was beating down on him as he stood idle, he was thankful that Puddle lended him their sunhat while they had the privilege of sitting under the shade. The grass had long since dried and withered beneath his feet, but the garden held strong. Of course it did, he took more care of his plants than he did himself!
His ears twitched as they picked up on the quiet hustle and bustle of his neighbours, and the cheers of little kids as they threw fistfuls of dirt at each other. He’d have to stop them at some point, after all that fresh soil had cost him a pretty penny, but he figured he should let them have fun while they can. They weren’t hurting anyone after all, just making a bit of a mess, nothing a good work day couldn’t fix.
As he had been looking away, he hadn’t realised the water was overflowing until the puddle had reached his work boots. Shame, wasted water too. At least it would nourish the parched earth, no one else had the heart too. That could be a future project, he thought, a few sprinkler systems to bring life to the dried out plains on hot days like today. It was surprising for a planet renowned for its lush forests to struggle so much during the hotter seasons, but it’s not like he could control the weather if he wanted to.
The tap was soon shut off and Kingsly began making his rounds, wielding his overfilled watering can. He watered every cute little sapling, weaving around the young children who he gently scolded for displacing the soil. They stopped, thankfully. He was glad that some of them had been raised right.
It was such a lovely moment; the vibrant green sprouts, the smell of sodden soil, the sounds of children playing and the hushed discussions of the town’s elders as they watched the product of his hard work come to life. After all this effort, there was still more to do.
He couldn’t wait to see his beloved plants in full bloom. Carrots, tomatoes and strawberries ready to harvest, flowers to be picked, stems to be snipped… He smiled at the thought. Things were going to be perfect, he could see it now. All he needed to do now was plant the last of those seeds. The kids were awfully excited to get started, and he was just as happy to help them at every step. Now though, he had to focus, he didn’t want to drown any of the sprouts.
Once all the planters had been thoroughly doused, he was starting to feel pretty parched himself.
Now where had he left his water bottle?
“My boys were just the sweetest little things when they were younger!” Kingsly’s mother cooed as she showed off the contents of her photo album.
As Puddle looked over the array of pictures, it was almost painful how cute the two used to look, like tiny little puppies. Now though, Kingsly wasn’t so tiny, neither was Peke. That just made the sight even more special. They flipped through the pages, eyeing the small snapshots of their lives; every mess they made, every embarrassing haircut, every silly prank. There was even a photo of Kingsly on his first day of school, dressed in a blazer much too large for him. His mother laughed as she recalled such an old memory.
“Ah, that old thing was Peke’s, I had to buy him a new one as he had outgrown it. Little Kingsly wasn’t quite big enough to fill it out!”
Puddle sighed fondly as they pulled out the photo, turning it over in their hands. The light glare of the sun accentuated Kingsly’s awkward smile. How lucky he was, being so adorable from the day he was born, and how lucky they were to have found him when they did. They carefully tucked it back into the plastic pocket before turning the page, eager to admire each and every one of them.
All of a sudden they reached a blank page, and then several more. They furrowed their brow at that. There had been so many pictures, how come it stopped so suddenly? Their confusion mustn’t have been hard to miss, as Kingsly’s mother put a hand over theirs, gently resting on an open page.
“I want you both to fill this photo album, to pass it on however long you can. This isn’t mine anymore, it’s yours.”
Puddle gasped. “No, I couldn’t possibly take this from you…”
“Nonsense, dear. I want you to keep these memories safe, you and Kingsly. They belong to you now.”
They weren’t sure how to respond, that was a lot of responsibility. And being a part of something bigger, something so precious and personal…
Puddle’s lip quivered, and they looked down at their feet. Their fingers tightened around the cover of the album as they fought not to cry. Stars, why was that so difficult?
“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“I-I-”
“Mama?”
The two perked up, glancing at each other. It was clear that neither of them had spoken. No, it was a small child, one who looked an awful lot like Puddle had at his age. He was staring at them, sparkling eyes filled with concern.
“Mama, why are you sad?”
A wobbly smile crossed Puddle’s face. “I’m not sad, honey.”
“Well I’M mad! Someone dropped their bottle! It’s plastic, plastic is bad for the plants. Mister Kingsly told me so!” he huffed, “It’s all dirty now, look!”
He held the offending bottle a little too close to their face, giving them a face full of the dirt that covered it. They went cross-eyed trying to make out the name written on cheap plastic, and just before it was snatched away from him, they found that they knew just who it belonged to. It was Kingsly’s. The poor thing must have been going crazy trying to find it…
As the boy’s mother finally found him, profusely apologising for dirtying their clothes, they found that they couldn’t quite focus, replaying that one word in their mind as they swiped the mud off their nose. Mama.
—
It was a peaceful day, with a nice, calm breeze. The flowers were in full bloom, glowing under the sun as it slipped behind darkening clouds. Despite how long autumn dragged on, preparing the town for another wet, cold winter, the weather was lovely.
Kingsly took in the sights, chest swelling with pride as he saw the fruits of his labour, just as bright as the flowers on Puddle’s skirt. The more excitable children dodged and weaved between planters, while their quieter peers made idle conversation over the flowerbeds. Neighbours and friends alike helped tend to the gardens, the care they took as they mingled and worked warmed his heart despite the chilly weather.
And there they were, surrounded by gorgeous autumn blooms, a cinquefoil fresh from the garden tucked behind their ear.
Puddle sat under the sunshade, drawing his eyes as they pulled the long sleeves of their violet sweater over their knuckles. And when they turned his way, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Their face was bright enough to rival the glow of the absent sun, in the centre of it all.
He gave them a shy wave, to which they giggled and gave one in return, just like the day they met. What a sweet memory that was, so fresh in his mind despite all the time that had passed. And he only fell harder every day, every morning they woke up together, every date under the twinkling stars, the day they walked down the aisle…
A droplet of water hit the back of his neck, then another and another. He only noticed then how distracted he had gotten. The sky up above was dark, the sun long lost behind a murky sea of clouds. It was raining.
Puddle sighed as they watched Kingsly floundering in the wind and rain as it bucketed down. They stood up from the bench they were seated at, thankfully spared from the elements, and called out to him.
“Kingsly! Get out of the rain!”
He snapped to attention at the sound of their voice, quickly coming to their side and away from the onslaught of rain, though he was already soaked. For someone so used to the chilly weather, even he looked like the cold was getting to him, and it was no surprise why.
“Sorry, Petal, I didn’t realise the weather had turned so quickly.”
“Of course, the one time I forget my umbrella..”
“The timing could have been better, huh?”
“Definitely.” Puddle only then noticed how much Kingsly was shivering, “Oh honey.. Come here, you must be freezing.”
“Ah, I don’t wanna get you all wet though…”
Despite his meagre protest, he soon found himself cozied up to Puddle, gently holding them from behind. His hands rested on their belly, where he felt a weak fluttering beneath his fingers. He smiled, nuzzling the fuzz of their undercut.
“Feeling better?” Puddle chuckled.
“Yeah… Stars, I just can’t believe it..”
“Hm?”
“We made it, Puddle. All of this…” He sighed fondly as he looked over their garden with pride. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
They looked down at their distended belly, placing a hand over Kingsly’s. “Yeah.. she is.”
A familiar scent hit them then as they heard the pattering of rain against the sunshade. A pleasant memory came to mind, way back before they had moved in together, on their first date. Neither could have guessed they’d end up coming this far.. as it seems, they couldn’t even predict the weather. They walked home in the rain, protected only by a flimsy brolly.
The smell of the rain, it had become so familiar, it was home to them. A name came to them so suddenly, it was perfect.
Puddle sighed, leaning into Kingsly’s embrace.
“Petrichor…”