punkflower where hobie likes to crochet in his spare time bcs it keeps his hands busy; he does it while he’s daydreaming and it’s great! it’s fun! it’s relaxing!
the problem is that he can’t stop making things related to miles.
he picks up his hook and when he looks down again he’s made a little crochet spider in red and black. he doesn’t even remember reaching for the colours.
he tries again a few days later and by the time he realises he’s daydreaming about miles’s face and miles’s hair and miles’s smile, he’s already nearly done with a loose-knit navy cardigan. he ties it off temporarily and tries it even though he already has a feeling it won’t fit properly, and he’s right.
it’s too short on him.
because he’d subconsciously made it to miles’s measurements that he’d eyeballed.
fuck.
he finishes it anyway, passes it to miles all nonchalant just to get it off his hands and off his mind but the next time they hang out miles is wearing it and hobie has to stand in the corner with his mouth shut before he puts his foot in it, because the cardigan fits perfectly and if he talks he’s absolutely going to embarrass himself. miles is laughing with his head thrown back and hobie desperately wants to kiss him.
but obviously he can’t, so he crochets more instead and it gets even worse. he’s burning through his red and blue yarn like paper; he’s made headphone accessories, keychains, beanies, a whole collection of loose-knit tops bcs he can’t get the image of miles wearing the first one out of his head.
it’s ridiculous and he drives himself up the wall with it, but he gives them to miles anyway and says they’re just practice pieces until gwen and pav ambush him in his flat and yell at him to finally fucking confess or they’ll do it for him, bcs miles is decked out in swag knitwear and they keep getting stopped on the street by strangers asking where he gets his clothes and you know what he says?
he says they’re just his friend’s test pieces. with a sad little smile.
and hobie can’t stand it anymore, because he practically CUSTOM-MADE everything, test pieces his ass. he opens a portal right to miles’s room and his heart squeezes when he sees that miles is in one of the sweaters he made, cream-coloured with a maroon star on the front, a little green knitted sprout tied to his headphones on top of his head.
miles slams his sketchbook shut, blushing like he’s been caught, and hobie walks right up to him and says, “they weren’t practice pieces.”
miles blinks at him, still clearly flustered. “o…kay?”
he soldiers on. “i made them for ya. with you in mind. by accident.” see? he opens his mouth and puts his bloody foot in it IMMEDIATELY. he fumbles to do some damage control but miles is smiling crookedly, pulling his headphones off.
“you handmade me enough things to fill half my closet… by accident.”
“yeah.”
hobie has to force himself to breathe because miles is standing up and then they’re kissing and every damn thought gets wiped clean out of his brain.
“was that by accident too?” miles asks, close enough that hobie can smell the cocoa butter he uses on his skin, something warm tucked beneath his wry smirk and hobie wants to kiss it off his damn mouth, so he does.
(afterwards, they tumble down to dinner grinning like fools. miles’s parents don’t question, and they miss gwen and pav fist-bumping just outside the window.)
2K notes
·
View notes