#but Moomin is always struggling with new things so it seemed only fair

[annzybwrites]

Rainy Days

Anonymous: u asked for fluffy snufmin prompts and I’m here to deliver!:) it’s cold and rainy and gross out so moomin convinces snufkin to stay in at moominhouse. snufkin tries to teach moomin how to play an instrument and moomin tries to teach him how to bake smth. they’re both bad at the thing which the other finds adorable <3

Annzy: I am so sorry this took so long, but I hope there’s enough fluff <3 

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“Snufkin, can you put aside your pride for one second?” Moomin wasn’t sure if he was scolding or pleading with his boyfriend at this point. All he knew was that it had been raining for the past two days, and Snufkin had to keep moving his tent to higher and higher ground to avoid the mud, and really things would be so much simpler if he would just come stay in Moominhouse until the rain cleared up. 

“This is the last rainy day,” Snufkin argued, rolling up his tent while Moomin held an umbrella over them. “I can feel it.” 

“You said that yesterday.” 

“That was yesterday.” 

“Just come inside!” Moomin pulled at the skin underneath one of his eyes. “If today really is the last rainy day, then staying in a nice, warm, dry house until it clears up would be best. And then we can go worm hunting as soon as the rain stops!” 

Snufkin hummed, fixing his tent to the top of his pack before looking at Moomin with a small smile on his lips. “Trying to butter me up?” 

“More like trying to resist throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you to Moominhouse.” 

Snufkin laughed at that, swinging his backpack on with a small sigh. “All right, you’ve won me over.” 

“Finally!” Moomin groaned, snatching Snufkin’s hand and starting to lead him off before he could change his mind. 

~~~

Moominmamma wasn’t usually too strict when it came to messes and dirt. But at the sight of Snufkin with dried mud in his hair, on his legs, and stuck on the ends of his tunic, she insisted he take a warm bath while she washed out his clothes for him. Thankfully they had a worn-in outfit that Snufkin considered acceptable to wear for brief periods; a plain, mustard yellow, cotton frock. 

“It’s so weird to see you in anything other than green,” Moomin commented when Snufkin entered his room. He’d spent the time idly doodling some flowers, but he was happy to put it away for awhile. 

“Is it?” Snufkin brushed out the fabric, chuckling a little. “How would I look in red?” 

“I can’t even imagine,” Moomin shook his head, happily padding over with a smile. “Well, what should we do for our rainy day adventure? Play a board game? Act out scenes from a book? Oh! Let’s bake something!” 

“Bake?” Snufkin was already looking forward to whatever sweets Moomin was in the mood for. He’d become quite a fantastic baker over the years.  

“Yes!” Moomin was already walking out of his room and down the stairs. “I can show you how to make a rhubarb pie!”  

“Oh…” Snufkin hesitantly followed him down the stairs. “Aren’t pies rather hard to make?” 

“Maybe at first,” Moomin admitted. “But I’d say they just take more time. Especially if you want the lattice covering on top, but it just looks cuter, don’t you think?” 

“If you say so.” Snufkin tried not to feel too nervous. If it was a rhubarb pie, he could just help prepare the filling and let Moomin worry about the rest. He absolutely hated working with pastry dough; it always turned out lumpy and stuck to his hands or his utensils whenever he tried. 

At first his plan worked out well; Snufkin washed and cut the rhubarb while Moomin started mixing the flour, sugar, and butter together into a nice, large ball of dough. But once Snufkin was done preparing the rhubarb, Moomin called him over to the table, insisting, “Rolling out the dough into a big circle is the best part.”

“Oh, is it?” Snufkin kept a smile on his face despite his heart leaping into his throat. 

“Oh yes!” Moomin separated the ball into two, smaller spheres, handing one to Snufkin. “I’ll let you use the rolling pin; a little easier than using your hands.” 

“I’m sure.”  Snufkin nodded, acting like he knew what he was doing as Moomin handed him the rolling pin. He stared down at his ball of dough, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Moomin was already making good progress with flattening out his own ball with his hands. With a deep breath, he pressed the pin into the center and started rolling, hoping it would work out and that he wouldn’t look like a goon. 

He should have known that was too much to hope for. 

With each new roll, more and more of the dough started sticking to the pin, and Snufkin was quickly becoming frustrated with just how often he had to peel it off and lay it back down on the table. “A little easier than using your hands” indeed. He was so absorbed with his struggle that he didn’t realize Moomin had already finished flattening and rounding his ball of dough. 

“Snufkin.” Moomin was clearly amused, and when Snufkin turned to look he saw a playful gleam in those baby blue eyes. “Need some help?” 

“Oh, no.” Snufkin shook his head, trying to roll out the dough fast, hoping it wouldn’t stick. No such luck; if anything that made it worse. “I have it all under control, thank you.” 

“Ah, I see.” Moomin nodded, obviously stifling a large grin. “Then I’ll start mixing the filling together while you finish… that.”

“Yes, I’d appreciate it.” 

Moomin nodded, chuckling a little as he began gathering spices from the cabinets. Snufkin watched him for a moment to make sure he wasn’t looking before returning to the menacing pastry. The dough looked more like a lumpy, cracked plate rather than a nice circle, so he began rolling it into a ball again before starting over. He put the rolling pin aside before digging in with his hands, since that had seemed to work for Moomintroll just fine. Except, just like before, all that ended up happening was the dough sticking to his hands rather than the rolling pin. 

“How’s it going?” 

Snufkin felt the fur on his back stand on end as he turned to look at his grinning boyfriend. “It’s going.” 

Moomin chuckled, tactfully sliding the flour to him. “A little of this should take care of that stickiness you’re struggling with.” 

“Right, of course.” Snufkin tried to smile nonchalantly, hoping his cheeks weren’t red as he reached for the flour. A little sprinkle later, and the dough was finally behaving properly. Now all he had to deal with was the fact that he was apparently incapable of flattening it evenly; some parts were thin as paper while others were little, thick pockets. 

Snufkin bristled when he heard Moomin start to laugh, and he quickly turned to glare softly. “You’re enjoying my suffering?” 

“Sorry!” Moomin covered his mouth, shoulders shaking with his laughter. “It’s just such a rare sight to see you like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like…” Moomin paused, trying to think of the best way to word this. “Like someone who doesn’t know everything?” 

“I never claimed to know everything—” 

“But you do act like it sometimes,” Moomin pointed out, grinning wider. “With all your grand stories and wise words. I’m just saying, it’s nice to see you failing at something.” 

Snufkin pouted at him, certain his cheeks were at least pink as Moomin continued laughing at him. “What use is dough-making for a tramp?” 

Moomin shrugged, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against Snufkin’s cheek as he pushed his hands away from the dough. “Just let me take care of this, all right? You can be adorable somewhere else.” 

Snufkin tensed up from the casual way Moomin said that, a warm shiver running down his spine. “What, you—my struggling is adorable?” 

“Very much so, actually.” Moomin was thoroughly enjoying himself as he rounded the dough for the third time that afternoon, picking up the rolling pin and humming away as he easily levelled it into a perfect, little circle. “And there we go.” Moomin grinned at him again, pointing towards the counter. “Can you get me a knife so I can cut out the lattice?” 

Snufkin huffed quietly, stepping over to fetch him his knife while embarrassment sat heavy in his stomach. He really didn’t like looking like a fool, but at least it was only Moomintroll who saw. And to be called adorable on top of it all! How completely undignified. 

“Thank you, Snufkin.” Moomin beamed as he took the knife from him. “And just so you know, you look even more adorable with that pout on your lips.” 

Snufkin was sure his entire face was red as he covered his mouth with his hand. “I am not pouting.” 

“Oh, you’re not?” 

“Absolutely. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in the living room.” Mamma could use some company as she knitted, anyway. 

~~~

The pie turned out beautifully, and the whole family came to the kitchen to enjoy it. Pappa complimented them on their perfect, flaky crust, and Moomin couldn’t help but laugh a little until Snufkin gave him a look. He didn’t say anything, of course; he didn’t want to embarrass Snufkin. No, he’d rather keep the image of Snufkin glaring down at the dough with flushed cheeks and a frustrated pout all to himself. Maybe he’d try and sketch it out later in his journal, just for posterity’s sake. 

It was still raining after they finished their rhubarb snack, so Moomin and Snufkin went up to his room to stare out across the cloudy skies and damp valley. 

“What should we do now?” Moomin asked. 

“Hm.” Snufkin tapped his fingers twice against the windowsill before pushing himself towards his pack. “Let’s make some music. Rainy weather is perfect to compose to.” 

Moomin brightened, happily going to sit on his bed. “I do love your songs.” And it would be so exciting to hear him compose something in real time! 

“I’m glad.” Snufkin pulled out his trusty harmonica before going to sit next to him on the bed. He blew through it once, as if to check to make sure it still worked, and then he began to play. Short, brisk notes, as if to imitate the pitter-patter of the rain, but sudden and loud enough to make Moomin’s ears twitch occasionally. He stopped after a few moments, turning to Moomintroll with a small grin of his own. “Actually, would you like to learn how to play?” 

“Me?” Moomin’s eyes widened as he pointed to himself. “Oh, I don’t know how good I’d be.” 

“Give it a try.” Snufkin handed the instrument over. “Can’t be any worse than me with pie dough.” 

Moomin couldn’t help but laugh at that, covering his mouth again as he did. He was glad that Snufkin wasn’t too sore about earlier; he’d wondered if he’d gone a bit far with his teasing. “You have a point.” He took the harmonica, simply staring at it for a few moments before blowing into it experimentally. It was surprising how loud it was, but he supposed it was bound to sound louder to the one playing it. 

Snufkin began trying to explain two different ways to isolate one note on the harmonica. One involved puckering your lips into a small oval shape, while the other involved using your tongue to block some of the other holes. 

“You put your tongue on this thing?” Moomin interrupted. 

“Sometimes.” Snufkin shrugged. “To get a certain sound. It makes it easier to add in or take away chords, too.” 

“And you’re sure you want me to play this?” 

“You’re clean enough, aren’t you?” 

“That’s not really the point.” 

“I don’t mind, Moomintroll.” Snufkin shook his head, a fond smile on his face. “Go on, try and play something. Just search until you find the note you want.” 

“All right.” Moomin swallowed nervously, staring into the daunting holes of the harmonica before holding it up to his puckered lips and giving a cautious blow. It did take a bit of practice to play just one note, and whenever he tried to find a new one he found all sorts of unpleasant sounds coming out of the instrument before he got to where he wanted. After only a few minutes, his mouth was already starting to hurt and he stopped to rub at his lips. 

“How do you play this for hours?” 

Snufkin laughed, taking the harmonica back as he explained, “Well, for one thing, you were moving your mouth too much. You should move the instrument with your hands, not your lips.” 

“Oooh.” Moomin groaned. “That makes sense.” 

Snufkin chuckled for a bit longer, wiping the instrument down once with his sleeve. “I know what you meant earlier now,” he spoke up, eyes twinkling with mischief as he teased, “You also look adorable when you’re struggling.” 

Moomin felt his fur stand on end as heat travelled down his body. “Oh, hush.” Moomin gently pushed at his shoulder, smiling a little at the joyful laugh that came out of Snufkin’s mouth. “Let’s just agree that we’re both adorable, all right?” 

Snufkin paused for a moment, thinking that over. “Only if you agree that you’re the most adorable, being so large and fluffy.” 

Moomin snorted, leaning in to nuzzle Snufkin’s forehead. “Deal.”