Work Text:
This was stupid.
Freelancer glares at the misshapen yarn in Huxley’s hands. Unsatisfied with their work. Work that had taken them hours, and yet seemed to amount to nothing when they were finally able to look at the finished product.
Crocheting,it was supposed to be a new hobby, something to help with the anxieties that had a tendency to overwhelm them. Anxieties that had only grown worse after the Inversion, even with how much time had passed since then. Something to do with their hands, something to keep their mind distracted, and if something cute came out of it then that would have been even better.
Yet everything they had made looked quite similar to the wonky scarf they currently held in their hands. One end was far too big and yet it seemed to shrink as it stretched out, appearing to look like a snake with a large head as opposed to a scarf, not to mention how many of the stitches were stretched out, leaving the yarn filled with holes.
You couldn’t tell that by the look on Huxley’s face though as he pulled it from the small bag that it had been wrapped in.
“Whoa! Dude, did you make this?” He sounds amazed, and proud. Freelancer couldn’t help but feel that the pride was misplaced. One of his hands trails along the poorly crafted item and the biggest goofy smile sits on his face.
Freelancer sheepishly nods, not meeting his eyes. Trying to hide the shame they felt at presenting him such a lackluster gift for his birthday.
“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious isn’t it.” They laugh weakly, putting up their walls again out of anxiety. Ironic that the exact thing they had been working on to get rid of their anxieties was now the cause of it. “It’s not that great so if you want something else or if you-”
“I love it,” His words weren’t loud or boisterous like, his tone tinged with vulnerability. Huxley’s large hands grip the scarf tightly, holding it close to his chest like it were the most precious thing in the world. “One of my best friends made it for me, how could I not love it.”
His genuine smile seems to comfort them for a moment before their gaze lands on the scarf once more.
“It’s bad.” they bluntly say, absentmindedly picking at the edge of their D.A.M.N hoodie sleeves. “It was supposed to look good but I…I couldn’t get it, but i didn’t want to show up empty handed, and Gavin said that I should just give it to you.” They explain. If it were any other time, they would have laughed as they realized they were going on a very Lasko like rambling session.
But Huxley wasn’t laughing.
He was just watching them, his eyes full of a tenderness that they recognized. That familiar smile on his face, the one he wore whenever he was genuinely happy. It wasn’t the same as his usual smile, large and unapologetically him, it was soft and tender. Freelancer couldn’t help but feel that they didn’t deserve it.
“I just wanted it to be…special. I wanted it to look nice.” They explain, struggling to find the words they want to say. “You were my first real friend here in Dahlia. I know you had walls up, but that didn’t stop you from being a good friend. For helping me when not many other people had. I wanted this to kind of show that. Instead it just…well it looks like that.”
They gesture to the offending item in question, tenderly clutched in Huxley’s hands.
There’s a silence that lingers between the two for a moment as Huxley seems to take the words in. Then all at once they’re enveloped in a tight hug, a familiar one, one that makes their eyes mist with tears. Freelancer wraps their arms around Huxley in return, holding him tightly.
“It doesn’t matter that it’s not perfect, dude.” he begins, obviously thinking hard about the words he’s saying. Wanting to get his message across clearly.
“I mean, it’s kinda like our friendship. It didn’t really start out perfect, and it still isn’t because like, no one is perfect dude.” He laughs a bit, a deep rumble that they can feel in his chest as he holds them close. “But you made it. You thought about me and you made that, all by yourself. I don’t think anyone has ever done something like that for me. Not even my Moms.”
He bends just a bit more and rests his forehead against their shoulder.
“That means the world to me, dude. I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday present.”
Freelancer knew that he was serious, and they knew that Gavin would be giving them a very teasing “i told you so” when they got home.
When Huxley pulls away from the embrace, he wraps the wonky scarf around his neck. It didn’t look any better on that it had off, but Freelancer was looking at it with different eyes.
It was something that brought their friend joy, something that made him feel important and cared for. They couldn’t bring themselves to hate their work anymore. It resembled their friendship, the way the twisted around itself even with all the holes and the thinning, it held together.
Just like they always would.