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A series of loud thumps echoed from the front door as Fireheart struggled with the two bulging bags.
“Hey Onesie, I brought in the last of the loot!” He set the reusable grocery bags down as gently as possible, one arm rising to wipe away a film of sweat staining his freckled forehead. “Woo… that sure is a lot of peaches… you ready to help me put these up?”
The front door closed with a slam when he pulled it shut, and he whipped off his large sunhat, humming a bright tune while sunshine poured in through the window above the exit. No reply had come from the kitchen yet, so the ginger picked up one bag in both hands and difficultly heaved it towards the open entrance.
“It’d be nice if you would’ve helped me carry them… too…”
Oh. So, that was why Onewhisker wasn’t helping.
The brunet sat in a chair at the kitchen table, a pile of damp peaches and peach seeds sitting in front of him, slender fingers gripping the paring knife as it carved wedges from the yellow fruit flesh. Smiling behind a hand, Fireheart watched his husband slurp up the sweet fruit slice by slice, stifling a giggle of amusement.
He waited until Onewhisker set down the knife again to swoop behind the chair.
“What did I miss?” Fireheart threw his arms around the short man’s neck, grinning at Onewhisker’s muffled squeak and jolt of surprise. “Not eating everything we got from the peach farm, are you?”
“Uh… no?” Onewhisker glanced up at Fireheart, plump lips working into a panicky, juice-stained grin. “I didn’t eat a lot so far…”
“How many?”
“Uhm…”
“Onesie…”
Onewhisker’s brown cheeks flushed a frustrated red when he looked away.
“I guess… ten. Maybe twelve. I wasn’t really counting.” Crossly, he folded his arms over his stomach. “Like I said, not a lot.”
“For you, maybe,” Fireheart’s words paused in a quick kiss to Onewhisker’s forehead. “Starclan, not all of them are going to go bad that fast, Whiskers. You don’t have to go through our whole supply in one day, especially when I’m going to make a cobbler!”
“Cobbler?” The excitement was audible in the brunet’s gasp. “I’ve… I’ve never had it before…”
“You’ll love it when I make it. If,” Fireheart circled the chair, leaning into his husband’s face to lightheartedly glare at him. “You stop eating everything! Okay, Onesie?”
Onewhisker threw another slice of peach into his mouth thoughtfully, mulling over the proposition while chewing.
“Fine. I’ll stop.” He murmured once he’d swallowed, focusing more on his lap than Fireheart. “For now.”
That earned him an approving scratch under the chin from the ginger.
“Don’t worry, Onesie! I’ll have it done by tonight, then you can have as many peaches and cobbler as you want.” The ginger leaned closer, curls brushing Onewhisker’s cheek. “Fun fact… smooches power the cobbler-making machine…”
Onewhisker rolled his amber eyes.
“Of course they do.”
Both closed their eyes, leaning closer to each other, lips not even an inch away from each other’s when:
“DADS!” Brambleclaw was suddenly in the doorway with some fruit in his hands, panting excitedly. “I found this really big peach in a bag and…” The boy paused, scowling at how Fireheart was poised over Onewhisker. “What are you guys doing?”
“Um… he had some peach on his face?” Fireheart quickly kissed Onewhisker’s beet red cheek before jumping upwards. “Anyways, it’s good that you’re here! You want to make some cobbler, Scramble?”
“I’ve never made that before!” Brambleclaw ran over to the table to set his peaches on it. “Is it like a big peach pie?”
“Something like that,” Fireheart replied with a quick shrug. “Go get the brown sugar and spices from the pantry, and we’ll start to get to it!”
When the boy ran off to the pantry, both slumped in relief.
“That was too close…” Onewhisker breathlessly huffed, slumping backwards in his chair.
“WAY too close…” Fireheart’s emerald eyes began to sparkle then. “Want to try it again?”
“…Eh, why not.”