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“Happy Valentine’s day! Celebrate with a sweet treat!”
“A dozen red roses – now half price!”
“Custom made jewellery for that special someone!”
The stall owners are incessant in their advertising, yelling about sales and special offers to anyone even remotely within earshot. Most are drawn in by the tacky hearts and cliché gifts – probably having forgotten to buy anything like the unprepared dolts they are. Fortunately, that isn’t a problem for Cronus this year, as he slips through the crowd with ease, biting back a smile and ignoring anything that doesn’t lead to the golden field in the distance.
Well, not that it’s been a problem before, seeing as Cronus has never actually had a valentine, but eh, details, details. The important thing is that whilst others are scrabbling for shitty, last minute garbage to give their partner, there’s a package with Kankri’s name on it; lovingly hand written and wrapped to the best of his boyfriend’s abilities – which is to say, covered in tape using far too much paper. But hey, that just shows that it’s homemade, and homemade is romantic, right? Right.
Finally, the crowd thins down along with the buildings, until cobble turns to dirt and streets become grassy lanes. Now free of being elbowed or having his toes stepped on, Cronus picks up his pace into a leisurely jog, grateful that there’s enough of a breeze to keep cool, but not so much that it ruins the hairstyle he spent most of the morning on. The sun is shining, birds are singing, the clouds look the cotton candy they sell at the fair; today is truly the perfect day.
Now, by this point, most would be wondering why Cronus need venture so far from town to visit his boyfriend – his very real and very human boyfriend, as he frequently reminds everyone. Although, that’s kind of the whole issue. Whilst Kankri is real as can be, and adorable to boot, he’s not exactly ‘human’. He could pass for it, with a cloak and some proper shoes, but he sees pretending to be something he’s not as “giving into the forced ideals of normality set upon us by society”.
So after a few months, Cronus stopped pushing the issue. Kankri can argue a point until he’s blue in the face and then keep talking, and his voice is nice and all, but wow, does it ever put a dampener on an evening when your date insists on talking about politics rather than listening to your compliments.
As a merchant’s son, Cronus never really cared for the fields – corn, wheat, barley – whatever happened with them was the farmer’s business. Then he saw the most gorgeous face peeking between the corn leaves one evening, bright red eyes full of equal parts fear and wonder. Kankri told him to go away, but Cronus came back every evening until the little guy finally gave in.
“I sometimes wonder why I put up with you,” Kankri had said one night, as they strolled through the corn field, hand in hand. “But the thought of not having you here with me is something I dare not even ponder.”
He’s got an odd way of speaking, kind of old fashioned in Cronus’ opinion. But that just adds to his charm. A charm that Cronus found quite irresistible. He’d been meaning to say something suave in return, but the moment Kankri looked up at him, red eyes shimmering in the moonlight like in all the old romance stories, Cronus couldn’t help but silence both of them with a kiss. Kankri had let out the most adorable squeak, but when Cronus moved back, Kankri pulled him in for seconds.
Cronus can’t help but smile at the memory, practically grinning when he finally reaches the place where it was made.
“Cronus!” Kankri springs out from amidst the corn plants – how long has he been waiting? Cronus wonders. “I was beginning to worry.” A long time, obviously.
Cronus hides the present box behind his back, but he’s pretty sure Kankri saw it. “Sorry, babe, dad vwanted the cleanin’ done before I could leawve.”
“No matter, you’re here now and that is enough to rid my mind of concerns as if they were never there to begin with!” Kankri seems far more lively than usual, shifting on his feet as he speaks, claws digging into the dirt whenever he curls his toes. Or perhaps he’s nervous?
“So,” Cronus begins, a sudden rush of anxiety pushing itself into his chest. “Happy Valentine’s day!” He blurts out, still grinning from ear to ear. He’d been practicing saying ‘valentines’ without his accent butchering the V and is unbelievably glad that he didn’t screw it up in front of Kankri.
“Yes! Happy Valentine’s day to you, too – I have been researching the event and I know most of its customs, including spending the day with your partner, as we had previously planned, and also the exchange of gifts.” Kankri reaches into his satchel and pulls out a small package, wrapped in leaves with a simple string that ties a purple flower to the top with a bow. “I apologise if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but I just couldn’t let the opportunity slide; you always bring me such lovely things from your home and I have yet to return the favour properly.”
A slight blush crosses his face as he shows off his tiny canine fangs with a smile, holding the present with both hands like he’s afraid to drop it. Oh God, it’d better not be too fragile; Cronus has never been good at taking care of delicate things like that.
“Vwell as long as you don’t mind that I got you somethin’ too.” Cronus presents Kankri with the box he’d been hiding, feeling a little ashamed of his shoddy attempt at wrapping compared to Kankri’s delicate handiwork.
Regardless, his boyfriend lights up at the sight, his expression almost giddy like a kid on their birthday. Dang, that’s another chance to spoil him, and in just a few months too.
“Oh, Cronus, you didn’t have to, but I am so very grateful.”
“Hey, you hawven’t opened it yet, probably best to reserwve judgement before you go handin’ out the thankyou’s.”
“Any present is wonderful when it’s coming from you.”
Well if that isn’t enough to make a guy’s heart melt, especially when Kankri’s cheeks turn a deeper shade of red and he wrinkles that freckled, button-nose of his. He’s still smiling though, in spite of his attempts to control it – he’s not one for showing his emotions easily, even around Cronus.
“I could say the same thing, chief,” Cronus replies with what he hopes is a somewhat smooth tone, even if it sounded awfully shaky to his own ears. “So, vwho’s goin’ first?”
“You!” Kankri thrusts his present at Cronus, but then draws back a little. “Uh- I mean, if it’s alright I would like you to go first.”
Cronus chuckles and nods, “Sure thing – here, take yours too.”
Kankri regards the package handed to him as if it’s already enough of a present, holding it as gently as his own gift even though it weighs considerably more. Actually having whatever Kankri has given him in his hands makes Cronus even more nervous – it feels so light, and the wrapping itself is so well done. He’s almost afraid to open it. But with Kankri giving him that hopeful glance, all big eyes and almost furrowed brows, how could he not?
The string is first, and he tucks the flower behind Kankri’s ear in spite of the protests that eventually turn to giggles. Purple is a good colour on him. With his white hair that looks soft as silk, skin dotted all over with light freckles, the way the sun turns gold in his eyes – he’s all the colours of a sunset in a cloudy sky.
Cronus removes the leaves as carefully as he can, taking a sharp breath when one snags on part of the present.
“Here, let me.” Kankri folds the leaf back and unhooks it, revealing a wooden comb covered in some sort of gloss.
Cronus lets the rest of the packaging drop to the ground, leaving the comb sitting on his palm. The thing feels even more delicate now that it’s out in the open, but the fact that it’s made of wood is a reassuring.
“Vwowv.”
It practically shines when held up to the light, like there’s flecks of gold over it. Then Cronus spots something on the other side – his name, carved in angular letters that are probably better than anything Cronus could ever make, even though Kankri only started learning to read and write a few years ago. There’s a chip by the ‘o’ that makes it look like 9, but somehow that makes it better – unique, personal.
“Vwhere did you get this?”
“I made it,” Kankri admits, fidgeting even more. “Do you like it?”
“Like it? Babe, I lowve it – this is the most amazin’ thing anyone’s ewver giwven me.”
It’s almost sad how relieved Kankri seems, as if he didn’t think Cronus would like something thoughtful, useful and made and personalised by his own hands. How long did it take him to make? Where did he learn to carve wood like this? Is he self-taught? Is wood carving a tradition in his culture?
Deciding those questions can wait, Cronus cups Kankri’s face and leans down to press his lips to the plump, pouting ones that he’s been thinking about for days. Except Kankri isn’t pouting this time, he’s grinning so much that it seems difficult for him to stop long enough for a proper kiss. He does, though, sighing out this soft little noise of pleasure.
“It’s vwonderful, thank you,” Cronus says, still close enough for their foreheads to touch. “Nowv you gotta open yours.”
Reluctantly, they take a step away from each other, letting Kankri get to work on his present. His claws slice open the paper and tape with ease, their fine points such a contrast against the round, softness of his body. He’s like a bear, Cronus thinks. Especially with that tiny tail.
“Oh my goodness.” Kankri’s mouth falls open as he finally prises a book from the mess of wrapping. “Kisses Between The Ears,” he reads from the cover, before eagerly flicking open the first few pages. “Oh, Cronus, these poems are lovely, I assume you wrote them, yes?”
“Yeah, you said you liked my songs, so I thought I’d write some just for you.”
Kankri just nods, apparently incapable of speech – for once in his life, much to Cronus’ surprise – as he skims the rest of the book, looking closer to tears with each flicker of his eyes or soft ‘oh’ formed by his mouth.
“I love it,” he manages to say eventually, voice wavering slightly. “I absolutely love it, thank you.”
Kankri closes the book and quickly wipes his eyes, blinking a few times to regain his composure. “I was wondering, would you perhaps like to come visit my home with me? It will be just us, I assure you, I live alone most of the time, as you know.” There’s something almost sad about the way Kankri tags that part on, and it pulls at Cronus’ heartstrings like nothing else.
“A course,” he says, taking Kankri’s hand. “I’ll ewven stay the vwhole day an’ night if you vwant me to.”
Kankri’s blush spreads out to his ears as he quickly turns his attention to the floor. “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that-”
“I vwant to; I lowve you, Kankri.” Wow okay where did that come from? It’s not that Cronus doesn’t love Kankri, he’s never felt this way about anyone before, but he was planning to confess somewhere a little more romantic than a corn field.
Although, when Kankri finally drags his gaze back up and mutters a quiet but confident, “I love you, too, Cronus,” they could be anywhere and it wouldn’t matter.
They begin to walk in silence, hand in hand just like that night last summer. Then Kankri halts mid-step.
“I don’t believe it.”
Cronus frowns, “Vwhat?”
“The name of the book – it’s a play on words!” He turns to Cronus, squeezing his hand tighter. “Kiss between the ears, between my ears, which is what I took to be the literal meaning seeing as we shared our first kiss in this place where we meet so often – but that is the second meaning! Ears like you humans call parts of corn, that was your intention, yes?”
All Cronus can do is nod, amused but still a little baffled by Kankri’s reaction. “Yeah, it’s called a pun.”
“Oh how fantastic, you are so clever with words, you must teach me more of these ‘puns’ as you call them.”
“Sure, Kan, anythin’ you vwant.”
Kankri’s home is a treehouse, littered with papers and books and charts; some hand written, some presents from Cronus or perhaps found somewhere – they’d never be stolen, Kankri isn’t like that. His ‘nest’ is a pile of blankets and pillows and clothes, most of them Cronus’. The two of them flop down into it and Kankri snuggles up to his boyfriend’s side, already beginning to chatter about all manner of things he’s learnt from the last book Cronus gave him – although none will ever be better than the one he has clutched to his chest, he assures Cronus of that many times.
Cronus listens more to the sound of Kankri’s voice than the actual words. Kankri never expects him to remember them anyway, he just likes to talk and not have anyone interrupt or leave him. Kankri begins kneading at his chest like a cat, so gentle with those claws that it's like there barely there. Knowing what’s coming next, Cronus hugs him tighter, running a hand up and down his back, stopping just short of that adorable, tiny tail he’d love to give some attention to. But if he did that, Kankri would stop cuddling and Cronus wouldn’t get to hear the lovely purr that’s soon rumbling in his chest.
Cronus kisses Kankri’s forehead as he pauses his lecture to yawn. He is nocturnal, after all; it must be pretty late for him.
“You should sleep, I vwon’t leawve, I promise.”
Kankri just nods, burying his face into Cronus’ chest, stretching himself out before curling into a tiny ball around his plump stomach. Cronus watches him for as long as he can, before falling into his own land of daydreams.
Definitely the perfect day.