#husband!noah

So now there's a hammock in the backyard.

As expected, you spent an afternoon with your husband trying to plan out where it would go. Did the backyard even have room for a hammock? Ideally you had to tie it between two trees, so it would lay between them. And of course when you and him were picking out a forever home, you'd thought out the vision for the backyard meticulously. It had to be perfect; after all it was already decided you wanted to start a family someday. So of course you had to be able to imagine little ones playing in the grass in a nonexistent little Fisher Price playground set for them.

Noah, he'd shared your vision for a home. Somewhere quiet, a cottage, nothing big. His job meant he was always doing extravagant things, living an extravagant life. You lived a similar way; grew up in the city but always longed for the quiet. That's how you two ended up in a quiet cottage like this. Not too big, but it had space for important things like the home studio, and an extra bedroom or two should the surprise gift of children ever arrive.

So you tell your husband you got it covered because he has things to do, and you start trying to tie this fucking hammock to the tree, and when you look up he's still standing there. He leans against the frame of the glass sliding door, and he smirks at you. Arms crossed over his chest, looking like the love interest in your cheesy romance movie.

"How's it going?" He calls out, and you tell him to fuck off. He laughs, and suddenly there he is beside you. He knows you far too well; if you can barely tie your shoes, how are you going to tie this big ass fucking rope around a whole two trees?

The sun's hot and glaring down on exposed skin, so being the person you are, you go inside to get water and sunblock just in case. You come back, he's wiping sweat off his face with the bottom of his tank top. You sigh like a teenage girl at the captain of the football team. So high school.

You see a big smile stretch on his face. He makes a smartass remark of "take a picture babe, it'll last longer" and in retaliation you make it look like you're going to turn the hose on for the garden, but instead you spray him with it, drenching his white tank top with water. It sticks to his skin. He shouts at the cold water on his skin, then he's running towards you.

Suddenly a small task of setting up a dumbass hammock turns into a full on game of cat and mouse with the garden hose. Your pretty little sundress is soaked with water and clings to your body, and suddenly you're the one who gets to make the remark about taking a picture. He grins like a lovestruck idiot, so shamelessly.

There's a hammock in your backyard.

You still don't see the purpose of it until you can't find your husband one night in the middle of August. The sun is setting, the temperature is finally dropping as golden hour gleams through the windows. You know damn well neither of you are turning that oven on, so what better dinner to have than classic takeout? You trudge upstairs to the home studio once it arrives, knocking gently just in case he's recording something.

But all you get in response is silence. You don't hear anything. You open the door and poke your head in; he's not even in there. His laptop is shut, headphones lazily placed on top of it, lights off like he had abandoned it some hours ago.

Huh. That's a first.

So, you begin checking every room in the house. Calling out his name, calling out "Babe? Noah?" over and over, looking for him. But he isn't anywhere. Anxiety kicks in.

He wouldn't go somewhere without telling you, would he? Did something happen to him? Did he leave without telling you? Is he off doing something for work? Is he cheating? Did he think you wouldn't notice if he left? 

In an instant you're panicking, thundering downstairs, opening the front door, looking out. His car is still parked out there. You look in the living room, the kitchen, the spare rooms, until you'd thoroughly searched every single room in the house. You're breathing heavy, half from running around the whole house and half from the panic attack you feel coming on until—

There's a glimpse of something outside. You move to the sliding glass door to the backyard, pull it open and step out. You shield your eyes with your arm from the sunlight, then your eyes finally fix on something.

Your husband is asleep in the hammock in your backyard.

Despite the sunlight, he is entirely unbothered. His hair is growing out just a little, enough to be in his eyes just a bit as he breathes deep. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, entirely peaceful and relaxed as the wind ever so slightly makes the hammock sway. Your panic diminishes in a second.

You're not sure how long he's been out here, but you don't worry too much about it. He doesn't look sunburned, not right now anyway. He's fast asleep, and as you get closer you can hear his little snores.

You can't suppress the giggle fast enough. He stirs, and opens an eye to look at you. The sun's rays gleam over his face, and his squinted eye looks so much more warm and bright under the sun's reflection. Brown eyes that look more like warm honey.

"Hey." He mumbles sleepily, giving you a tired smile as he sits up just a tad. You can tell there's no plan for him to get up anytime soon.

"Hey. I was wondering where you went." You respond gently, and he sighs, silently aware of where your mind likely went. You know that he knows. He's always read you like a book. "I didn't mean to wake you, sorry."

"It's okay, you're okay. C'mere, baby. There's room for both of us." His words slur together in his sleepiness, and you don't hesitate. You gently sit yourself, and then lay yourself on the hammock, right beside him. 

And for a long moment, it's dead silent. The birds chirp, the crickets begin their song as they do every night. The wind blows softly, and your husband has his arm wrapped around you. You shift to rest your head on his chest. His heartbeat is slow, but it's like a song just for you. No amount of production, vocals, or instruments could match up to this. Just this.

Suddenly, it occurs to you why he wanted this hammock so badly. This is so... so peaceful. There's nothing to worry about; there's no sounds of air conditioners or soft mumbles of television screens. There's no glowing lights from phone screens. It's just nature, it's just basking in the beauty of what's around the both of you. It's just the gentle sway of the hammock, like rocking a cradle.

Part of you honestly forgot how much things like this meant to him. Peace, in its purest form.

You let out a little sigh of contentment, and a chuckle rumbles his chest as he brings his hand up to your head. First ruffling your hair, then running his fingers through it. He doesn't say a word, just dozes back off with one arm around you, the other cradling your head.

There's a hammock in your backyard. You're so glad you bought it.

Curiosity had gotten the best of you, so you rose up out of bed, reaching out to grab the pastel purple egg from your bedside table. It rattled softly as you picked it up; he went through the trouble of filling these damn things too?

You popped it open to find a Hershey's kiss, as well as a tiny piece of paper that has nothing more than a poorly drawn bunny face on it. You laughed softly to yourself at the sight, unwrapping the candy and popping it into your mouth. Sure, it was 10 in the morning, but you couldn't help yourself.

It's only when you got up out of bed that you spotted the fact that that was not the only plastic egg. In fact, there was a trail of them on the floor, leading out the door into the hall. You almost missed the tiny basket right by the door, wrapped in a ribbon.

Had he been planning this out for a while? What a dork. Your dork.

This was far too cute to ignore. You grabbed the basket, picking up each egg and placing it inside.

You followed the egg trail as it went down the hall, downstairs, and into the living room, leading to Noah as he lounged on the couch, phone in hand. His head perked up, but he didn’t look at you, as if he was trying to pretend he didn’t notice.

“Someone had fun this morning.” You greeted him with that statement, and he couldn’t stop the smile that crept up onto his lips.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” He kept his eyes glued to his phone. For the frontman of a band who has made some cinematic music videos, he sure was a terrible actor.

“You absolutely know what I'm talking about. When the hell did you buy these eggs?” You shook the basket a little. The eggs made little clattering sounds as they hit against each other.

“I'm as surprised as you are. You should've seen my reaction when the bunny ran through here.”

“The bunny, huh?” This oughta be good.

“Yeah, he told me not to tell you he was here though. So if you find me dead tomorrow after choking to death on jellybeans, you know what to tell the cops.” He couldn’t even try to hold back his laughter as he told his silly little story. Halfway through, he was chuckling through his words, and finally he looked up at you with a stupid grin on his face. 

“Let me guess, the bunny told you to keep the eggs where he hid them so I could find them, too?” You approached him slowly, brow raised in pure amusement.

“Yeah, crazy shit right— ow!” His nose scrunched up as you flicked it with your fingers. Noah's eyes narrowed in a playful glare. “What was that for?!”

“Spill the beans, bunny boy. How many more eggs are there?” You sat yourself on the arm of the couch, looking down at him with an amused smile on your face. His gaze immediately softened as he met your gaze, as if what he wanted out of this endeavor was already achieved.

“How many do you have now?” He reached to pluck the basket from your hands, quietly counting them. “That issss… 12 eggs? There’s 12 more in the backyard, then you get your prize.” 

This alone told you that he absolutely put a lot of thought into this whole little egg hunt thing. After all, it’s Noah Sebastian; he puts 100% into everything he does, even if it’s something cute like this. You’d come to love that about him over the years. Making new music? 100%. Cleaning the house? 100%. Taking care of you when you’re sick? 100%. Playing Easter bunny? 100%.

“Don’t tell me you—”

“The Easter bunny.”

“...The ‘Easter bunny’... got me a basket too.”

“Of course he did. He said you’ve been very good this year.”

“I thought that was Santa’s thing.” You stood up from the arm of the couch, stretching your arms as you prepared for another round of looking for eggs. Never a dull moment, being married to Noah.

“Well, it could be an Easter bunny thing too.” He fell silent for a moment, the gears turning in his brain. “It’s- it- don’t think about it too much, okay? That’s what he told me, don’t shoot the messenger.”

You burst into a fit of laughter, bending down to press kiss to his lips, which he happily reciprocated. Noah rose from the couch, but rather than stretch along with you, he was already walking elsewhere.

“You go head to the backyard, I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Where are you going?” You tilted your head, watching as he was already halfway down the hall. 

“I have to pee so fucking bad, it’s not even funny.”

“Why didn’t you go to the bathroom sooner?”

“I didn’t want to risk going to the bathroom if you were going to be up any minute! Then you would've come down here to an empty couch!” His voice grew more and more muffled as he descended down the hall, yelling his explanation to you as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

“You're a dumbass!” You called back.

“You love it!”

There’s a dozen eggs in your backyard.

You hadn’t done an Easter egg hunt since you were a kid, and quite frankly you didn’t think it was going to be nearly as fun as it was. Dressed in your pajamas, hair unbrushed, equipped with only a basket of colorful eggs, you began your search. You walked in circles around the yard as Noah watched you, a cup of coffee in his hands that he sipped on as he observed. The smile hadn’t left his face since you came downstairs, and it most certainly wasn’t going anywhere now.

“That’s one!” You called out as you found your first egg, holding it up triumphantly. 

“That’s my girl! 11 more to go!” He called back, sitting himself down on, you guessed it, the hammock. Noah had eagerly insisted that it should be put back up in the springtime, and one look into his excited puppy dog eyes made you cave and agree. 

“Make that 10!” You responded about two minutes later, holding up your second egg before placing it in your basket. 

“Who knew you were so good at finding things?” Came his response, his foot planted on the ground as he gently swayed himself on the hammock.

“You did! I’ve found your keys so many times it’s not even funny!” You gave him a look over your shoulder, and he grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well…” He had nothing to say to that one, so he shut his mouth.

The next 30 minutes continued like this, you announcing each egg you found and him giving you words of praise in return. Admittedly, you thought at first he hadn’t hidden the eggs very well, but now that you were at 2 eggs left, you were totally stumped. You had to give him credit, he’d put some serious work into this.

“You stuck?” Noah asked as he approached, noticing the way you’d started wandering aimlessly in search of your last two eggs. You turned around to face him.

“Yeah, I didn’t take you for a master at hiding eggs. You got me.” You admitted as you knelt down in the grass, counting out all of the eggs just in case you were off in number. 

“Well, of course the Easter bunny is something of a natural.” He struck a stupid little confident pose, hand on his hip as he basked in the ego boost. He laughed as you muttered “fuck off” under your breath in response. “I see an egg, though. I know where it is.”

“You do? Where?” You snapped your head up, standing up straight in an effort to follow his eyes to the location of it. Unfortunately for you, he immediately looked away. 

“You have to find it, that’s the rule.” He shrugged, moving to take a step back. 

“Oh, come on! Least you can do is help me find it. Please?” Noah had puppy dog eyes that could make you agree to just about anything, sure, but so did you. You made sure to really play it up while you were at it, batting your eyelashes and even putting on a little pout. 

“Okay, fine, don’t look at me like that!” He laughed, admittedly not putting up much of a fight to resist. It was you, after all. How could he ever resist you? “Right now, you’re pretty warm.”

Hot and cold system it was, then. You nodded, turning around and taking a few steps forward.

“Warmer.”

You walked even further forward, then took a step to the left.

“Colder.”

To the right?

“There you go, warmer. Almost got it, babe.”

You felt silly, taking these short steps, but by now you’d stopped worrying so much about acting like an adult. This was fun, the most fun you’d had in quite some time, and you could spend hours hunting for these stupid little eggs if it meant spending quality time with your husband.

“You’re hot! You’re so hot!” He suddenly exclaimed, nodding at you encouragingly. “In more ways than one! You’re like right there!”

“Where? Where!?” You looked around quickly, your hair hitting you in the face as you frantically searched your immediate area for the egg. “You’re fucking with me on purpose! It’s not even here!” 

“Look up.”

You slowly lifted your head, and that’s when you spot it in the tree, well hidden around the spring flowers. A damn good hiding spot. You reached up, grabbing it and putting it in your basket in a dramatic way, as if throwing a basketball into a hoop.

“We have an egg hunt champion right here, and it’s my wife!” Noah jogged up to you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a hug. You screeched like you always did, terrified he’d drop you despite knowing he would never let that happen. Only a few moments later, he sets you back down gently. “C’mere, check out what I got you.”

Noah took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers as he took you to the little outdoor table set, where a basket of goodies sat in one of the seats. He pulled it up and set it on the table. From what you could see, it was full of snacks and candies, a rabbit stuffed animal, a hoodie, and a white headband with bunny ears on top.

“Oh my god, this is so cute… all this for me?” You were overjoyed by the sight of it, digging through the basket of treats eagerly to see everything that was inside. Everything you enjoyed was here, and the hoodie was something you put on immediately after taking it out of the basket. The cool morning breeze was starting to make you shiver.

“Of course it’s all for you. Do you like it?” Noah stood beside you, fixing the hood of the hoodie for you, then planting a kiss on the side of your head.

“I love it, are you kidding me? This was so much fun, too! You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, if I’d known you were doing this I would’ve made you a little basket!” A kiss on the side of the head was not nearly enough for you in terms of affection, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest. You wrapped your arms around him and he held you, resting his chin on your head.

“I got what I wanted out of this, don’t worry.” Noah spoke softly, and a silence hung in the air after he said that.

Every time he had something personal to share, or a feeling to express, the emotion would hang in the atmosphere, and it would take a few moments for him to muster up the courage to talk about it.

You never pressured him to open up, never demanded he elaborate any further on anything, so just like every other time, you simply waited in silence. Even if he wouldn’t say anything at all.

This time, he did.

“You know how I am with holidays like these. But the last thing I wanted was to be bitchy and crabby all day, so… I figured I’d do this for you. I’m happy when you’re happy.” He breathed out a sigh, looking down at you with that soft gaze you’d grown to understand was only for you. “So I got what I wanted.” Noah’s smile wavered, as if there were still a wave of emotions he was keeping to himself.

“I’m proud of you.” You smiled back up at him, and he nodded, not able to get the words of thankfulness out of his mouth. “I’m glad you did this. I had so much fucking fun, too. I mean, shit, I guess egg hunts never get old.” 

“Good,” Noah let out another sigh, perhaps of relief, “I’m glad. Maybe this’ll have to be a tradition for us. Our special little Davis family tradition.” His tone held a bit of pride at the mention of a ‘Davis family tradition’. Ever since you two got engaged, he was attached to the idea of you both being a family, of merely having something he could call a family of his own.

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed, reaching over to the basket to grab the bunny ear headband. You placed it on his head, stepping out of his arms to admire your work.

“What’re you-” Noah reached up to touch the ears on his head, raising a brow at you. “These are supposed to be for you, that’s why they’re in your basket.”

“Oh, but you’re the Easter bunny, aren’t you? You said so yourself, Mr. ‘Easter bunny is something of a natural’.” You did a poor mimicry of his voice, flexing your arms and puffing out your chest.

“...Yeah, I guess I did say that. Fine, whatever.” He rolled his eyes, though judging by his smile you knew he didn’t mind. After all, it was making you happy.

“You look adorable. Look at you! Maybe I should start calling you Noah Bunbastian.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Noah Sebunstian?”

“No.”

“I got it.” You stepped back once more, a mischievous grin on your face. “Nobun Sebunbun!”

“You’re just making it worse!” He plucked the headband off of him, shaking his head so his hair would fall back in place. He held it out to you expectantly. “Don’t think I’m cut out for this bunny life. No reason to be the Easter bunny if I have something sweeter than candy right in front of me.”

“You are so fucking corny.” You took the headband from him, putting on the bunny ears.

“You looove it.”

“I do, unfortunately.” You let out a dramatic sigh, before once more pulling him closer. “And I love you. Thank you for this, really. I’m so happy I get to do things like this with you.”

“I love you too, more than anything.” Noah cupped your cheek with a hand, his thumb stroking your skin as if he were worried you’d shatter like porcelain. You two basked in the moment as the sun shone down upon you, as if the world itself was observing the happy life you and your husband shared.

“Only 23.” But something was still on your mind.

“...What?” He blinked at you in confusion.

“The eggs. I only collected 23 of them. So we should probably grab the last one before we go in. You know where it is, right?” You’d assumed that he just got too excited and wanted to give you your basket. He could be like a golden retriever sometimes, it wouldn’t be the first time he spoiled a surprise for you.

He just stared back at you, not saying a single word.

“...Noah. You know where the last egg is, right?” You repeated, slower.

“...Um... yes?”

“Oh my fucking god, you don’t know where it is.” You pulled away from him, covering your face with your hands as you began laughing all over again. Noah’s face was red with embarrassment at the realization that he had completely forgotten about the final egg.

“Well, this backyard isn’t massive! We can find it! C’mon, let’s search together. Stop laughing at me, I’m just one guy! Stop it!” His efforts to make you stop laughing only made it worse as you picked up that little basket of eggs, with him in tow trying to explain away his little mistake.

You both searched for that egg for an hour, figuring that the combined effort would make it easier to find. In the end, neither of you found it, and ultimately gave up the effort in favor of going inside and enjoying the rest of your Easter together.

Neither you nor Noah would find that egg, and would eventually forget about it, until it showed up in October when you raked the leaves in the yard. You’d remember that day as you held it in your hand, and place it on his bedside table for him to find the following morning.