#casual reminder that hob gadling is adhd

[chaosclimber]

konmari

The room was a complete disaster. Dream stood in the doorway, watching Hob sort through, piece by piece, what looked like every article of clothing they owned, all piled on top of the bed. It bewildered him–they’d been together long enough, Dream knew Hob’s cleaning methods. And while the process was never a tidy or streamlined one, it wasn’t….this. Hob tended to Roomba-clean, bouncing from task to task as he realized each one needed doing.

This was…oddly focused, despite the absolute mountain of clothes on the bed. He was sticking with clothes, sorting them into three piles. 

“So…what is going on here?”

Hob glanced over, and smiled widely–he always did when he saw Dream, and it never failed to make his heart flutter. Even after all these years. “Well, remember a little while ago everyone was going crazy for Marie Kondo and her method?”

Dream furrowed his brow, thinking back. The name sounded familiar, but where did he hear it? The memory hit all at once, and suddenly the way Hob was sorting made sense. “...Dearheart…that was ten years ago. It was before we even met.”

“...Yeah. A little while ago. Isn’t that what I said?” 

…Fair enough, when ‘the other day’ in their household could mean anything from yesterday to five years ago. 

“Anyway, I finally decided to give it a try. Can’t be any worse than my normal method, right?”

Dream raised an eyebrow, but refused to rise to the bait. He watched silently for several moments, as Hob picked a garment from the pile, considered for a moment, then folded it carefully and placed it in one of three piles. 

And then he picked one of Dream’s shirts. It was quickly added to the largest pile to the left, but not before Dream could spot it. “...You have all of our clothes in there?”

“Well, no. This one just…managed to get in my side of the dresser. Somehow.” As if the other man didn’t routinely steal his clothes. Dream never quite understood it, given Hob was so much broader than him–he most certainly could not pull off the whole ‘stealing your partner’s clothes to wear’ thing. But it rarely bothered him, so he smiled fondly, then stepped into the room properly. “Alright. Can I help?”

“...Yeah, d’you wanna start putting the clothes in that pile” He pointed back at the big pile “back in the dresser? The middle one’s donate and the last one’s are for the poor dears who’ve done their time.” Hob grinned, shifting to make room for Dream. There was still plenty of sorting to do, but at the very least, not having to deal with the piles afterward would streamline things.

Dream was glad to see that the other piles were still sizable, even if the pile of stuff that was staying was still the largest. “...do you plan on doing this with your hobby supplies, as well, or just your clothes?”

“We’ll see how I like it at the end. It feels weird staying this focused and not bouncing off to another task, but I know we need the bed tonight, so…”

They lapsed into companionable silence, working seamlessly together. Two hours of straight tidying–probably a record in their household, in all honesty. Dream glanced over as Hob plopped onto the bed in a huff. “...I miss the kids.”

He had wondered if that was the culprit for the sudden cleaning-fit. It had been a good distraction from how quiet the house seemed now, empty of rowdy teenagers. He sat carefully next to Hob, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close so his head would rest on Dream’s shoulder. “I know. I do, too. But this is good for them.” 

“...Who’s going to eat us out of house and home, now?”

That won a small, surprised chuckle out of Dream. “Well. You’re welcome to try, Robert Aeturnus-Gadling. But I, for one, relish the lower grocery bill.” He smiled as that won a small, watery laugh from Hob in return. He squeezed Hob’s shoulder. “They promised they’d call every week. We’ll hear from them before you know it, and they’ll probably come over for the holidays.”

“It’s not enough.”

“I know. But it has to be.”

“...When did you get so wise?” Hob sniffled a bit, turning into Dream’s embrace.

“I haven’t the faintest clue.”