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“Cocoa delivery," Asa chimed up, breaking nature’s silence as he walked over to their bench. Two mugs of the best cocoa in all of Hampshire – possibly in the whole of the UK or even the whole universe (as Anthony claimed) – were held in each hand. A blue mug for his husband because, well, Anthony liked it and a yellow one for Asa because yellow is pretty.
Regardless of how long they’ve known each other, whether it’s been twenty years or six thousand years, Anthony will never get tired of hearing Asa’s deep hum of approval followed by ‘it is scrumptious’ whenever they eat or drink anything. He doesn't know why he finds it so attractive, really, nor would he admit that out loud. He wouldn't hear the end of it from his husband if he ever admitted to that, but what he does know is that if Asa was allowed to be a glutton for food, then Anthony was allowed to be a glutton for Asa’s reactions to such delicacies. It's a win/win really. No need for skill and change when there's certainty in your life.
And also, in their defence, you can never truly have enough of everything, really. Why limit your love if you have enough love to share with others anyway? It’s just so silly to think about. Holding back on the things you love when you can just... not.
“I have you. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
"Oh! Another shooting star," Anthony could barely contain his smile as he corrected Asa with “meteorite debris" once more. He'd do everything to keep his angel on his toes if it meant he'd see the way his cheeks would puff up whenever he scoffed at him. There was nothing sweeter than seeing his lovely librarian all grumpy and tired at his comments. Apart from the hot cocoa they're having, of course.
Annoyed but fond, Asa just rolled his eyes and shook his head. He could never truly get tired of his husband’s mischief. He recalled one time when Nina witnessed one of their 'rows' and asked why Asa would put up with his husband's verbal tirades that always seemed to suck Asa into one of their 'arguments' like some sort of black hole. Asa's only response to that was 'well you see, pestering me makes him so happy,' and besides, it’s one of the many, many things he loved about that man.
Another thought came to mind at that moment, though. Something short and sweet and otherworldly. “I had a dream about you, actually,” Asa voiced, turning his head towards Anthony, with that same gleam in his eyes that Anthony always loved. “Oh, do you really? Sort of odd, isn’t it?” and there it was again, the way Anthony's eyes would widen and glimmer whenever he's up to no good. Asa was as predictable as ever, playing into the role of a bewildered partner.
“What? Eh—don’t you dream about me? ” Asa’s question was answered with a drawn-out ‘no’.
“Safe to say, I have never dreamt about you," Anthony continued.
“What-Never ever?" at this point, Asa was beyond baffled, even turning in his chair just to face his husband in all his absurd glory, all while Anthony just shakes his head and smiles. “Well, you’re missing out,” Asa responded with a huff, turning back to sit properly on their bench. Of course, 'properly' meant leaning against this geeky old fart he calls his husband.
“What was your dream about? ” Anthony gives in, taking Asa’s hand in his own, his smile widening as he felt Asa’s fingers clamp around his almost instinctively.
It was such a joy for them, these small moments of banter. One person teases the other; the other gets riled up and yet no matter what they say, the moments their hands touch, it's as if they’ve never really fought with each other to begin with.
“You were talking about crashing stars and bananas like a madman, claiming it’s the end of the world.” And the way Asa spoke sounded too fond and joyous for a man talking about a dream about Armageddon. “Odd indeed,” Anthony insisted, causing Asa to huff.
Leaning over the gap between their chairs, no matter how uncomfortable it might be for his back later, Anthony pressed his head against Asa’s shoulder and said, "I dreamt of you holding a sword.” He finally admitted.
“So, you did dream about me too!” and just like that, Asa was over their little banter now and it shows by how he was quick to face Anthony again, all bright smiles and smug pride of victory. “Hold on, a flaming sword? I think you’re the odd one now.”
“Me? You’re the one invading my dreams and playing with blades and flames; what do I have to do with anything?” This time, it was Anthony’s turn to huff and pull away. Even going as far as taking his hand out of Asa’s grasp and crossing them above his chest.
"Everything," Asa answered without hesitation. Slowly, he moved his hand from where it rested between them and reached over to drape it around the back of Anthony’s shoulders, effectively pulling his husband back to him with practised ease and familiarity. Anthony didn’t even bother to stop Asa. He loved this bit of their banter the most.
Because even if Anthony could easily pull Asa back and hug him after teasing him like this, having Asa hug him instead makes him so happy. And on occasion, Asa would do more than just a hug and an apology. One fabulous kiss and they’re good. That was the plan. And it always worked. Even now, twenty years later, a simple touch of a hand or a gentle kiss could melt millennia of pain. At least, that's how it felt.
Leaning away, Asa easily took Anthony’s hand back and placed it in its proper place in his, between them as they looked over the stars once more.
“Wily old angel,” Anthony muttered softly.
Asa only chuckled, “Needy serpent."