Page 50 of Hot Times in Heart Falls, Vignettes Vol 3

Kevin tilted his head, clearly trying to read him. “What’s going on?”

Edison cleared his throat, nerves doing jumping jacks. “I made my sweater in honour of you.”

Kevin’s brow rose slightly, lips twitching at the corners. “Oh?”

“It’s not my usual,” Edison said quickly. “I mean, it’s shiny, yes, but toned down. Grown-up. A little more...you.” His fingers fumbled with the zipper, but he forced it down. “I just—I wanted you to know I see you. And that I’m not afraid to meet you partway.”

He tugged off his coat.

Beneath it, his sweater was slate grey with thick, knobby yarn pom-poms, like the ones that usually sat on top of a toque. They were arranged in a lopsided geometric pattern. Silver threads ran through the fabric in subtle waves, catching the light when he moved. It was stylish, quirky, and—Edison hoped—heartfelt. It was, in short, not his usual bold-and-bedazzled look, but still him. Just...adapted.

“It’s supposed to be gaudy,” he said with a nervous laugh. “So I couldn’t go too understated. But I thought—maybe—it was somewhere in between the gaudy that I like and something you’d like.”

Kevin’s eyes softened, and his lips parted as if he was about to say something—when suddenly his entire face lit up like a sunrise.

“What?” Edison asked, bewildered.

Kevin’s hands moved to the zipper of his own coat. “Well, funny thing.”

He opened his jacket.

Edison’s jaw dropped.

Because underneath Kevin’s sedate black outerwear was the most gloriously awful sweater Edison had ever seen⁠—

Bright neon green and sunflower yellow with patches of electric pink, clashing stripes across the arms, and smack dab in the middle of the chest, hand-stitched in pink yarn with a slightly crooked heart around it, was one word:

Edison.

Kevin said nothing. He didn’t have to.

Edison’s heart exploded.

“Oh my God,” Edison breathed, tears springing to his eyes. “Kev…”

Kevin’s ears were red, and his smile a little shy. “I thought maybe sometimes styles should change.”

“You—” Edison’s voice cracked. “You absolutely glorious sap.”

Beyond them, the party continued. Kids laughed, adults shouted and cheered as each new gaudy sweater in the lineup hit the spotlight and the participants took a spin.

Edison barely heard any of it.

He stepped in close, eyes fixed on Kevin’s sweater, then slowly looked up to meet his gaze. “That is the most ridiculous and romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”

Kevin shrugged lightly, but his hand reached out, warm against Edison’s lower back. “Seems fair. You made yours for me. I made mine for you.”

Edison didn’t care that half the town was in the room and might glance their direction at any moment. He reached up, cupped Kevin’s face between both hands, and kissed him.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss they usually shared—not the passionate ones where they were so hot for each other they couldn’t think. Not the ones Edison usually gave that were shy and careful and full of possibility.

This one was certain.

Kevin kissed him back just as firmly, his arms enfolding Edison, sweater to sweater, warm through all the layers. They stood there in the chaos of the firehall, in their equally ridiculous sweaters, wrapped up in each other like some kind of makeshift holiday miracle.

When they finally pulled apart, Edison rested his forehead against Kevin’s.

“I love you,” he whispered, soft but true.