Fiddleford sighed as he opened the front door to his small peach colored home, closing it with a small click. On days when it was raining cats and dogs, it was just like him to forget his umbrella. He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at the soaked strands brushing his finger tips. If he looked down, he just knew that there would be a puddle forming around his feet. And knowing himself well enough, he’d most likely forget and let the damn thing soak right into the wood and create another unsightly spot that would have to be covered with slightly darker than the wood paint. And Fiddleford knew that if he did that Stanley would have his head.
Yet somehow Fiddleford couldn’t care, for today at least. It was far too gloomy outside and work had been too long for him to care about anything other than getting out of his wet clothes and maybe drinking some tea. The thought was really enticing and he decided that yes, he deserved a nice peppermint tea and maybe even that slice of cake that he’d been saving. Humming softly he peeled off his jacket and hung it with a note to come back for it later to stick it in the washing machine.
He jumped when the sound of a strumming guitar rang through the air. Then thick, delightfully hair dusted arms wrapped around his waist while an ear met his lips.
“Baby, lock the doors and turn the lights down low…” Came Stan’s voice, a low croon in his ear.
A pleasant shiver ran through Fiddleford’s spine and a smile bloomed on his face. While Fiddleford himself had a fairly high voice, Stan’s was gruff and smooth, perfectly harmonizing with that of the singer. And just as Stan sang, he reached out to lock the door before he was turning to look up at the man who’d stolen his heart.
“Put some music on that’s soft and slow.” He sang back, smiling as a flush took over his cheeks.
When they had first- well- did this together, he had been more embarrassed than the time his pants had fallen down at the library. Stan had helped him through it with soft kisses and affectionate touches while they stood in the middle of their bathroom. Stan’s face had been only half shaved of course and Fiddleford had atrocious morning breath, but it hadn’t made it any less sweet.
“Baby we ain’t got no place to go,” Stan murmured with a grin that made Fiddleford’s knees go weak. “I hope you understand.”
Those large hands move to his hips and slide lower to squeeze his ass. Fiddleford pulled away with a soft giggle and gently flicked Stan’s nose. He gets a smile back and a kiss to the finger.
“I’ve been thinking ‘bout this all day long.” Fiddleford crooned back, eyes bright and sparkling with joy. It was true after all. “Never felt a feeling quite this strong.”
Stan’s face goes absolutely dopey and Fiddleford feels a rush of warmth go through him. This was what love was.
“I can’t believe how much it turns me on,” Stan finally said, moving a hand to gently hold Fiddleford’s chin as he leant in. “Just to be your man.”
Their lips met in a sweet kiss and Fiddleford realized that maybe today hadn’t been so bad after all.