Love Is Stored in the Purple Carrots
First posted in 2017
Set sometime after Treasure for Treasure and His Mossy Boy
Summary: Joe plants a garden. Zarrin takes note. m/m
“For a vegetarian you don’t really like vegetables much, do you?”
Zarrin stopped sniffing the carrot in his hands, wounded by the amusement in his Joseph’s tone. “It’s so… orange,”
he explained, not at all defensively, and took a moment to brush some of the dirt from the vegetable in question. Then he added it to the basket Joe’s mother had given them. They would deliver some of the produce from her garden to her tomorrow—since she insisted on keeping her place in town even though Zarrin’s mansion was big enough and she was more than welcome.
The only thing she had allowed Zarrin to give her was the plot of land for a kitchen garden, although it was Joseph who did most of the work there. Joseph didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the steady, regular work pleased him. Although he had been surprised to find he had a green thumb.
Ian had found this discovery very funny, for reasons he hadn’t explained. Martin had been delighted, and soon enough he and Joe and Mrs. Andres were discussing seeds, and fertilizers, and soil, and sunlight, and crop yields with an intensity Zarrin had tried to share, but couldn’t.
Azar had cruelly and without sympathy told him he couldn’t be an expert at everything, before she’d commented on grafting the fruit trees and increasing the size of the orchard. Zarrin had been left to huff in irritated silence until Joseph had come to him and whispered promises of sweet fruit, with Martin in the background flushed pink with excitement at the thought of making jam.
“They weren’t always orange.”
Joseph’s attention was on the row of peas—or zucchini—or something similar—he was weeding. His hands were dirty with dark soil, and his arms were bare and probably warm to the touch from the work and the afternoon sun. “Humans bred them to be that way. There are other varieties.”
He glanced up, meeting Zarrin’s gaze as if fully aware Zarrin had been watching him. If he was embarrassed, Zarrin couldn’t tell. He gave Zarrin a slight grin. “There are purple carrots too. I think they were originally that color.”
“Purple?”
Zarrin sat up in delight.
“So you want some purple ones too, then?”
Joe did not seem surprised. “Okay. Next year.”
If Joe knew what it did to Zarrin to hear him speak so casually of their future, he might choose other words. Then again, he might not. His eyes were steady on Zarrin as he said that, and his hands were still.
Zarrin licked the corner of his mouth, just to be sure, then nodded so Joseph would never doubt his happiness. “Next year,”
he agreed. “I will even eat them.”
He had done well by his treasure to get a soft laugh from him. “I wouldn’t make you suffer. That’s Bernard’s job.”
It wasn’t suffering. Vegetables were not unpleasant, just… boring. Cheese was better. Zarrin clucked his tongue. “I can stand a few carrots to make you laugh again.”
Joe blinked, startled for some reason. His faint smile didn’t fade, precisely, but it changed, or perhaps that was the look in his eyes. “What won’t you do for me?”
he wondered, too quiet, with no one else around to hear. Maybe he thought he was teasing, but Zarrin answered him seriously.
“I don’t think there is anything I wouldn’t do for you, treasure. Nothing I wouldn’t give you, if you asked and it was within my power.”
And his powers were considerable now, which they both knew. “You wouldn’t even have to ask.”
Zarrin slowly shook his head. “Your need would be enough.”
Joseph made a small sound, shocked and frozen.
“Dragons respond to need.”
Zarrin frowned a little, confused. “Didn’t I tell you that?”
“Yes.”
Something made Joe’s voice sharp, then softened it. “I don’t need anything.”
“Oh, don’t be silly.”
Zarrin fell forward gracefully, on hands and knees for a moment before kneeling at Joe’s side. “Your mother asked for this garden, but you were the one who needed it. Look at you. You’re happy like this. I’m happy to give it to you.”
Joe opened and closed his mouth before scowling. “So you know what I want before I do?”
Zarrin wrinkled his nose at that tone, and Joseph relaxed, slightly. “Then, what?”
“You need, and my magic will find a way.”
Zarrin raised a hand to stroke Joe’s cheek. “Fruit trees and carrots, old-growth forests and the real history of this town. A home,”
Zarrin finished, viciously proud for that, for having Joseph move the last of his things in and finally give up his apartment. Joe’s lovely eyes met his. Zarrin petted him again, then considered what he should say.
Someday a child, if Joe wanted. Children, possibly. Zarrin didn’t know if they had a once-in-a-lifetime love although he wanted to believe they did. But in any case, that wouldn’t matter, not with his physiology.
But getting Joe to stay, sitting with him here in the sun and the dirt, the land happy and providing for them as if to prove it, was enough for now. So he kissed that cheek before sitting back, and after a moment, Joseph seemed to recover himself and started to weed again.
Next year, Joseph had said. These ones were for next year.
Zarrin was content to wait.
The End