A/N: I don't know how I came up with this. Just a short drabble.
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If his eleven-year-old self could see him now, Kevin was sure he would laugh at himself and shout, "Dork!"
He and Edd were holding a golden trophy in the shape of an iron paired with an ironing board. Kevin squeezed his boyfriend's shoulder. They had worked their way up to this moment.Or maybe, Kevin thought, it wasn't the moment, but the journey towards it that made them smile.
He remembered their first Extreme Ironing tournament and how Edd's legs had trembled as he stood on the canoe whileKevin paddled. Edd was balancing an ironing board -and himself- through the turbulence, all while trying to smooth out the wrinkles in a shirt.
"Kevin why did you talk me into this?" he screamed as they fell down the waterfall.
When they had landed, their canoe capsized and threw them in the water. Kevin started laughing at the sight of the ironing board bobbing past. "Because I knew you would be great at it, you dork!"
That much was true and Edd knew it. Hell, he even enjoyed it. If there was any sport he was a natural at, it would be this. Probably, only this.
Edd had taken great joy in teaching Kevin the basics of ironing, and he had excelled at the advanced lessons, even though it was mostly Edd who did the ironing. Kevin was normally the one leading the rock climbing expedition to the top where the real shirt starching would happen, or the one manning the hang glider, an ironing board on his back as Double D ironed a suit. His favorite event was the bike riding one. It was obvious what his part in that one was.
Today the duo won their first trophy, and they were still in their wetsuits, hair damp with salt water. They briefly posed for a picture, fists pumped in the air.
"Ah the thrills of scuba diving," Kevin smirked.
Edd giggled, covering the gap in his teeth, "With the satisfaction of a well ironed shirt."