Work Text:
There was a farmer’s market in the town square today, noon to four. Alex only learned about it from a hand-written sign staked into the red dirt at the end of Mr. Pelphery’s driveway as he passed by earlier.
They’d been here for a couple of months, now. They didn’t really know anyone else besides old Mr. Pelphery, and of course Victoire and her little daughter half a mile down the road. He idly wondered if the two of them were going to the market too. He thought that it was really about time that they got around to knowing more than just their three closest neighbors. Alex appreciated privacy to an extent. Now that he thought about it, Alex realized with half a chuckle, he wasn’t even sure that Yassen even knew those three.
Alex contemplated all these things as he walked through the shaded pathway up to their home, then as he opened the creaky wooden door to the inside, then thought more as he heeled off his boots and rolled his socks halfway down his feet so he wouldn’t slip on the smooth woodgrain.
He caught a glimpse of Yassen moving around the kitchen through the entryway down the hall, and decided then and there to not even give the man a decision in the matter. He headed that way, smiling at the smell of tea and toast that perfumed the air.
He knew Yassen would have heard Alex come in, but the man didn’t turn from where he was slicing bread on the countertop in front of him. Alex padded up behind him and snaked his arms around Yassen’s waist, sinking against him with a happy sigh. Yassen tilted his head slightly so Alex had room to press his own against his neck. Alex breathed him in—he smelled of pine, fresh and cool.
“Morning,” he said softly.
Yassen lightly pressed his cheek down against Alex’s temple in response. “How was your walk?”
Alex hummed into his shoulder. “It’s getting hotter," he mumbled.
Yassen huffed, but Alex could hear the smile in his voice. “A Londoner like you would think so, hm? Only happy when it rains.”
“That’s the most brilliant weather to complain about, obviously.”
Yassen chuckled. Alex steeled himself.
He let the airy, happy silence sit for a few moments longer before he said, “We have plans this afternoon.”
That got Yassen to finally tilt his head down to look at him. Alex shifted to look right back. He noticed Yassen had shaved—that was the pine, then. He liked it when Yassen shaved.
“Farmer’s market. Mr. Pelphery’s selling his tomatoes.”
“A farmer’s market,” Yassen repeated, light and toneless. Alex pulled away to lean against the counter, not going any farther than he had to, meeting Yassen’s gaze head-on.
“You have been enviously eyeing his cherry tomato vines for weeks now, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Now’s our chance to get our hands on some without resorting to our espionage or wetwork skills like you’ve been planning.”
And oh, the look on Yassen’s face at that. Alex loved him dearly.
“What?” Alex raised an eyebrow when Yassen didn’t offer up any words after a few too many seconds.
“Oh, nothing. I had just never imagined…” Yassen trailed off and looked out past Alex, toward the window that peered out over their garden. Alex imagined he was planning where exactly he was going to be planting the seeds. Then Yassen sighed. “That the biggest event of my week would be buying fruit with my young male paramour, risking conniptions to all the many elderly townsfolk that pass us by every time he takes my hand, caving to his ceaseless—”
Alex interrupted him with a loud huff, feigning indignation and moving to jab him in his stomach. Yassen twisted gracefully to avoid it and grabbed Alex’s wrist before he could make contact. Alex giggled breezily, straining and twisting his fingers out toward Yassen’s torso. Yassen quickly arched his back to try and evade, and Alex found himself grinning too hard at how silly the movement was to keep up his attack.
“I bet you’re so disappointed,” Alex hummed after they settled, fingers instead curling gently into Yassen’s shirt. “No more of me allowing you to become a hermit.”
Yassen tutted. “Indescribably.”
“You can’t count any old ladies whose hearts we make give out as part of your kill count, now.”
Yassen’s nose flared and lips twitched up, and Alex couldn’t find it in himself to fight his own laugh like Yassen was doing when the man tugged him in by his still captured wrist and held him against his chest.
Alex swung with the motion, curving himself perfectly into Yassen as they turned around the kitchen together. Alex’s half-folded socks had him unfettered against the floor as they moved, but Yassen held him up firm and strong. They stood there together for a while, Alex sinking into the feeling of morning sunshine warming his skin, the smell of butter and of Earl Grey steeping into the air, Yassen’s heart beating sure and steady against his ear. Alex didn’t know if he had ever felt so contented.
After a few minutes Yassen tightened his arms around him and murmured into his ear. “So, cherry tomatoes.” Alex burrowed closer, squeezing Yassen’s hand that he still had clasped in his own between their chests. Yassen squeezed back. “I’ll get our tote bags out, then.”
Alex’s laughter filled the kitchen for the rest of the morning.