have a disgustingly fluffy human au that I decided to write on a whim
Traffic is bad with the rain, though Ethos isn't entirely fazed by the longer commute. It eats into his precious time at home, but complaining will only work to sour his mood and that certainly won't speed things up. He's mostly just tired from a long and productive day at work, having needed to go to meetings and negotiate with people about domestic matters; still, the feeling of accomplishment is never far behind. It's just difficult being away from home long knowing that his schedule is so incongruent to Kellan's. While his own work doesn't start until late morning, Kellan is usually already on the roads by dawn and though he comes back earlier in the day, Ethos is scarcely home before normal dinnertime. The scarcity of time is always a thing to lament.
But getting home is always a welcome relief in his day, knowing it isn't often that he can unwind without needing to keep up the careful image he maintains at work. When he unlocks the door to let himself inside, the living room is empty, a faint light coming from the kitchen. He steps on the backs of his shoes lightly to pull them off, leaving them by the door, deft fingers undoing the buttons on his coat to hang it up. The light grows as he heads to the kitchen, hearing faint noises of Kellan preparing what he guesses is likely dinner. His homes in the past had always been silent, but this one has never felt empty.
"I didn't feel like cooking. Hopefully you don't mind," Kellan says when he hears Ethos walk into the room, looking back at him. He has a wooden cutting board with various types of expensive cheeses, crackers, and nuts gathered on one side. A small dishes of jams and honey sit in the free space with sliced fruits separated into different bowls while an unopened bottle of wine rests on a different counter, a corkscrew lying next to it. They aren't one for extravagance, but they've always been able to make things seem finer than they are, and he imagines that that is a type of wealth in its own right.
Ethos moves into the kitchen to briefly rest a hand against Kellan's back, if only to extend some gesture of endearment. "No, it's perfect, although we might be bullied about it, making charcuterie on Friday nights instead of...what was it that your sister said?"
"'Go out like real people instead of acting like you're both middle-aged parents', I think it was," Kellan replies, setting the items in his hands down. "But if you approve, then I won't mind the bullying."
"Mmm. That was what she said, wasn't it?"
"I'm sure she only said such a thing to antagonize me rather than you." Kellan's smile is a helpless one, but in adoration nevertheless. "How was work?"
"It was as good as it can be. I'm just glad to be home." Moving to assist on instinct, Ethos undoes the buttons at his wrists so he can push his sleeves up enough so they won't get in the way, going to the sink to rinse his hands. He feels arms slip around his middle from behind and he laughs quietly when he feels Kellan kiss his hair lightly. While his life has always been good, he's lived most of it without affection and he often forgets how nice it is that Kellan has a surplus of it.
"Don't get distracted," he says, turning the faucet off and drying his hands on a towel that hangs right by the soap. "The wine isn't going to pour itself."
Kellan makes a small noise of protest but the arms withdraw from around him. Instead, Ethos picks up the container of strawberries and a knife to start cutting the tops off, placing the cut strawberries into a black porcelain bowl. The mundane parts of their life are slow but pleasant, and he knows they have both settled into the routine of their days with an appreciation that simplicity isn't always a signifier of boredom. Sometimes Ethos thinks he can spend hours with him - reading a book, doing research, or learning more songs on the various instruments they keep around their apartment - and he would still be grateful for the time.
A concerned sound comes from beside him and he looks over to see Kellan with the bottle opener and the bottle of wine, bits of a cork wedged into the screw of the opener and some lying on the counter. It was an old white wine from Kellan's previous place and he supposes that things always have to give them minor bits of difficulty.
"Is that how people drink wine in this country?" A little smile appears in the glance that Ethos steals at Kellan. "Is there cork inside?"
"Breaking this out was supposed to be a romantic gesture," Kellan remarks, peering into the wine bottle. "I can see some. I assume it was just old or too brittle."
"Finish up the strawberries. I can fix it," Ethos assures him, setting down the knife and taking the bottle opener from Kellan's hand. He picks the remaining cork from the metal and then works on scooping up the pieces and throwing it away. Fishing into a drawer, he pulls out a thin cheesecloth and crosses the kitchen for a decanter. Kellan had argued against buying it at the time, having claimed that it likely didn't make much of a difference anyway, but they've used it every time since. He puts the cheesecloth over the opening of the decanter and pours the wine inside, the bits of cork and sediment stopped before they can mix with the wine again.
"Ah, the day is saved." With an easy grin, Kellan looks sidelong at him. "What would I do without you?"
Amused, Ethos just throws out the remainder of the cork and grit before fetching wine glasses from the cabinet. "On the contrary, you are much better at these gestures than I am. And I'm grateful for all of them."
"You make it sound so serious." His smile is still there but there's a bit of embarrassment behind it, a hint of boyish relief in his face at the appreciation of his efforts. "Of course I'm glad to do such things, though. I think we both deserve it."
Ethos just nods in silent agreement and they work on bringing the food out to the low coffee table in the living room. They both prefer to sit and eat at the floor, finding the stuffiness and formality of dining room tables unlike them. He remembers when they had gone furniture shopping and how it'd taken them all day to just pick out a coffee table. For two people that prided themselves in their agreeability, he'd found they were both pickier than he'd expected. Now, though, he smiles inwardly at the memory as he pours the wine into the glasses, setting the decanter on the table and passing the glass to Kellan.
They both settle into easy chatter about their day. While they have a TV, it's scarcely used for more than the occasional bit of news or program, finding that they're 'decidedly old-fashioned' - those were Grace's words - about their habits. The meal is nothing heavy on the stomach and it's nice to just sit and eat in between their talks about what they might do for the weekend. It's surprising that despite all his gentle maturity and sometimes serious tendencies, Ethos is the one with the sweet tooth. He eats every bite with a layer of blackberry jam on the crackers, plucking cut strawberries from the bowl and dipping them in honey. Kellan chooses to sit beside him, his legs outstretched under the table, and Ethos pats his thigh ever now and again when he wants to point something out in their conversation.
"We should visit your sister. She's home at the moment, yes?" Ethos suggests and Kellan eagerly agrees to the idea. Family isn't something he's used to navigating, but he's getting better at it.
When they've mostly finished off the food, they sit and sip at their wine. They're not frequent drinkers, but won't turn down a glass every now and again for the taste. Though it's not as sweet as Ethos is used to in comparison to the wines they have, it pairs well with the fruit and he appreciates the things that Kellan does to make their days a little less monotonous.
"Do you miss your home?" Kellan asks suddenly, drinking the rest of his wine and setting his glass down on the table. "All this talk of my family and the stuff here just...had me thinking. I can't imagine being away from here for years on end..."
"Are you worried that I'm not content here?" It has been a long adjustment, but not an unwelcome one, and Ethos doesn't want to dismiss the topic without knowing Kellan's concerns.
"A question with a question..." Hesitating, Kellan reaches to take his hand. Though he's held his hand a hundred times in the past couple years, each time he acts as if it's the first, knowing the weight it carries and the unfamiliarity with it that Ethos has yet to overcome. "You are only hard to read at times. You have always been agreeable about things, but I don't want you to think that settling here was...selfish on my part."
"Kellan. I hope you don't think often about those worries." Ethos sits up straighter, reaching to brush some curls back from his face with the hand that Kellan isn't holding. That's something he's picked up over time. A simple sign of affection. "This place holds everything that is important to me now. It is my home, so you don't need to worry."
That seems to be enough to calm Kellan's thoughts for the time being and Ethos draws closer to press his lips lightly against his forehead. He can sense the tiredness in the room, remnants of a difficult week, but neither of them rush to clean up the table and get ready for bed. If they sit there, they can push off the darkness as long as they please, Kellan's hand still clutched onto his. It's difficult to let himself be cared for in such visible and emotional ways, but Ethos slowly sinks back down beside him to rest his head on his shoulder. They settle into easy silence and wage against the night.