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It all goes downhill right from the start, with Juniper getting lost in metro.
"You could've taken a taxi. Why didn't you take a taxi?" Rowan asks on the call, more worried than anything else.
"Well, I'm sorry, chap, but the prices for cabs here are way above what I am ready to pay." Juniper protests. Which is... fair enough, but doesn't really help Rowan to relax.
"You could've asked me to pay! Or to meet you near hotel and take a ride with you! I swear to God, June, if we miss the plane–"
They do not miss the plane. Even with Juniper getting lost it probably would be impossible for them to miss it as Rowan, being a bundle of nerves he is, insisted on them meeting three hours before the flight (Sloan talked him down to two and a half). Juniper hangs up and forty minutes later he is in the airport. By this time Rowan managed to get himself a coffee and imagine all kinds of unlucky scenarios while the drink was slowly cooling down. He realizes he got no more than two sips only when Juniper calls him again to say that he is in the airport, next to the B entrance. He takes one more sip and winces at the cold homogeneity of the substance. He won't be torturing himself by trying to finish this, he decides, leaving the cafe full of regret.
Next, he finds Juniper. They hand over their luggage and pass the customs, this time even the body scanning goes fine for both of them despite Rowan's worries. Although scanners do detect an anomaly during Juniper's checkup, it all gets resolved momentarily. Rowan jokes that even the scanners agree how otherworldly Juniper is and he giggles and blushes a bit. He doesn't seem resentful about the phone call at slightest, but Chow still feels he needs to say sorry for going off.
"Don't you worry about it, chap!" Juniper says, kissing him on the vertex. "I know you were just worried and didn't mean to be snappy."
They spend the remaining hour before the boarding starts window shopping, mostly looking at uselessly cute items and saying uselessly cute little phrases like "that's you", "look they made a toy of you". They do not buy anything, but they sure have a good time and do not notice how an hour passes by.
"Time to go!" Juniper exclaims.
"It is, isn't it?" Rowan asks, feeling his stomach drop as the lady in blue uniform checks their passports and tickets.
"C'mon, Ro, it's going to be fine!" Juniper tries to reassure him as they walk through the jetway. Ten-plus-hour flight definitely does not correlate with Rowan's definition of "fine", but it's not like he can turn back now.
They take their sits: Juniper next to the window, Rowan next to Juniper. And like that their journey begins.
* * *
There were a lot of things people could tell about Juniper Sloan. He was an open person, and even when he wasn't trying to be open, he still wasn't really successful at hiding things from others. However, one thing in this world nobody could tell about him by simply looking at him, maybe sitting next to him in a bus, was how many thoughts were tracing through his head at any given moment. It wasn't the same with Rowan's, not the overthinking type of mind restlessness, though sometimes he too wished he could turn it off or at least get a hold of what he was thinking about. Other times it served him good. As a kid, he never felt bored in the quiet waiting rooms, in the detention classes, on the long rides, because at times when he had nothing, he still had his beautiful brain with a bunch of colorful amusing thoughts inside. When he was a child, he liked to compare his inside world to a box of toys: there were wooden figurines and dolls which could be used to tell a story, stuffed animals which his mind found comfort in on the darkest stormy nights, and colorful marbles, which he could put up to his eye and see the world blossom and spiral around. Little did he know there was a price to pay for all the fun parts of being imaginative.
Problems started around sixth grade, when Juniper hit puberty and all of a sudden learned that his mind wasn't a toy box anymore, but rather a dump where the said toys were thrown away to. And it wasn't a backyard dump where the broken things at least were recognizable, but a place where he spent half of the time staring at objects and wondering how they got there in the first place. There is only one thing more terrifying than unfamiliar things in no more familiar place: familiar things ruined by time. Must be scary to pick up a toy bunny which used to be your favorite only to see what time had done to it. He tried to fix it, stich it up, repaint the eyes, but the needle only tore it's soaking wet plush-flesh more and the black marker washed down, leaving it empty-eyed with black tears running down it's faded pink cheeks. And he felt helpless and nobody understood how and/or why, because he was never good at straightforward explanations. Juniper was a metaphor kind of guy. He could be an open person ten times, but nobody really understood what he was being open about and it's not like he had a lot of people who actually tried to listen back then. That was why he got into art. Drawing pictures, shapes, complicated ornaments, doodling – it all made him feel better. Just getting it all out there. The satisfaction of being heard without talking.
With time the therapeutic need for art decayed. More like with age Juniper accepted the fact that sometimes his thoughts will end up going the wrong way. He learned that in some cases when you can't fight it and God forbid you join it, maybe it's better not to think. At all. That's how he got into handicrafts. Starting with knitting and sewing, he found out that this kind of repetitive activities demanding of one's attention forced all of the unwanted out, replacing it with patterns for threads. Not only that - the practical outcome was worth the time too. It all came to the point where he could spend hours knitting even when there were no worrying thoughts inside his brain box.
That's how the better part of the flight goes for him: changing looking into the illuminator with knitting when he got enough thinking and vica versa.
Now Rowan next to him tries his best to sleep through it all, but it's not like he can sleep for ten hours, so for him it's more of jumping between sleep, state of being awake with his eyes closed and thinking how in minute or two the aircraft will almost definitely crash and fall, and playing games on his Nintendo (which was one of his ways to cope with worrying thoughts). The X-hour comes for Rowan inevitably. His eyes are tired and starting to hurt, so he can't play games no more, but he doesn't want to sleep either and it's not like he would intentionally choose to be one on one with his anxiety driven mind. Luckily, Juniper doesn't seem too occupied. Well, it's not like Rowan couldn't distract him if he was, more of he wouldn't want to. He loves looking at Juniper when he is busy with his crafts, he seems so invested into whatever is in his hands, he doesn't notice anything around, like if the whole world lies within the threads. Yet, now he is just staring at the view. Rowan tries to follow his gaze, but the moment he looks he becomes hyper aware of the fact that he is now about 6 miles high in the acid green sky.
"June, I'm bo-ored." He whines jokingly.
"Didn't you say you were going to beat your record and sleep all the ten something hours?"
"I did, but now I don't want to sleep and my eyes are tired, so I'm deciding to make it a shared problem. Ideas?"
Juniper thinks for a bit and answers. "How about we play ten questions?"
"Yeah, why not."
"I ask first! What was the first song you learned to play on guitar?"
"Let me think." Rowan tries to remember. " Probably 'Feel good inc.', Gorillaz. Either that or 'Clint Eastwood'."
Juniper doesn't seem to be familiar, but that's alright, Rowan thinks.
"Alright, my turn! What did you want to become as a kid?"
"Oh, now this going to sound silly. When I was a little lad–"
"What? Your mom made you do a little lad dance?" Rowan chuckles.
"What?" Juniper laughs incomprehensibly. "No, she did not? I wanted to be a teacher!"
Rowan isn't sure if he got the reference, he adds it to his list of what he got to educate Juniper on.
"You are a counselor now, that's close enough!"
"It is..." Juniper supposes. "But not really. I wanted to be a full-time teacher with a classroom and everything."
"I wanted to be a paleontologist, now I am a guitar tutor with a YouTube channel who has to work as a counselor in summer. So you still got closer than me."
"Fair enough, mate! Why did you become a counselor?"
"It's all for a practical reason, really. Not a lot of people are willing to study guitar in summer, everyone's out of city and stuff. Majority of my students are kids and teens. Both of these age groups are dependent on their parents, so the most frequent phrase I hear in the end of May is 'my parents are sending me to my granny/auntie/in a camp for the summer, see you in September'. I needed a stable source of money in summer and 'Camp here & there' needed new counselors."
"But there are so many summer jobs out there, especially those where you don't have to be exposed to the sky all the time!"
"I know, right!? Why do I keep coming there? That's a mystery." Rowan admits. "I guess I just really do like working with children after all, that's the other side of it. Alright, my turn to ask. What is the thing that makes you laugh the most?"
"Easy one! Your jokes!" Juniper answers without even a moment of hesitation.
"Aw, dude, do not attack me like this."
Two more rounds pass until Rowan realizes he is not sure what to ask.
"Gee, I am almost out of questions." He notices. "Those used to be so easy to make up in school. Majority of them were something in lines of 'who's your cru-u-ush?', but a least the game never stopped." He thinks a bit longer, following the associations of school years, crushes and games. "Did you have a high school relationship? How was it and why did it end?"
"Sorry, I'd rather not answer that. It was, uh, "bad" kind of bad. A greatly big cock up. Shambles!"
"No problems, I'll ask something else. How about: what was your favorite game as a kid?"
"Hide and seek?"
"No, I mean a video game."
"Uh, I didn't have a computer growing up. I think I bought my first laptop when I was twenty-four-twenty-five and it barely could take 'Word' and 'Power-Point'."
"But you did, like, at least have a favorite pokemon? Y'know the cards, exchanging them with your friends?"
Juniper is silent.
"C'mon, you got to know at least the yellow one with electricity? At least from the kids?"
"Rowan, I don't think kids are into this any more. Embarrassing as it is, it's easier to name five 'fortnight dances' or whatever children call it."
"Wait-wait-wait, you are telling me you can name five 'Fortnite' dances, but you don't know who 'Gorillaz' are, don't know berries and cream dance, and never heard of 'Pokémon'? What's next? You haven't seen a single Miyazaki anime?"
Juniper blinks at him. Slowly.
"I... Know what 'anime' is?" Juniper tries to justify himself. "I never saw one though."
"No way. No way..." Rowan goes cold in the face. "I'm sorry, baby, that's a deal breaker. I'm– I'm calling a flight attendant and getting of this plane right now. It's over, Juniper."
"Oh no, don't jump out of the aeroplane!" Juniper begs, trying his best to play along. "I will watch all the 'anime' you want!"
Rowan ends up deciding not step out of the plane and into the acetic sky on condition of Juniper being legally obligated to have a full-course lecture on pokemons from him with an assignment containing a five-page essay on which pokemon is Juniper's favorite and why, and to watch one of the Miyazaki's works together.
* * *
The train ride from London to Legsworth isn't long. No more than an hour and a half. What seems weird to Rowan is that he never could find the town on maps, not the phone ones, nor the paper ones. To all instances and purposes, Rowan couldn't find anything about it all. He asked Juniper about it several times before booking the ticket, but Sloan just shrugged his shoulders and said that it's probably way too tiny to be registered. He said it's more of a village than a town, really. He said there was nothing to be worried about, and indeed there doesn't seem to be, though Rowan looks into the window every now and then and the sky seems off. Not in a way sky in Ohio does, not with a sense of always being watched, but there's something off about it still. Feels funny to be anxious about something being absolutely normal.
"Hey, June, I wanted to ask you something about your family."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Is there anything I shouldn't bring up around them?"
"Oh, well, they are jolly nice people, I don't think there's anything about you they won't like or accept. Uh, except for the thing we talked about."
A little explanation needed: "the thing they talked about" as in "Juniper tells his parents he is a legal adviser for diplomats around the world". Rowan never really got an explanation for why he lied to them, but to his mind "jolly good people" wouldn't mind their son working as a counselor in summer, if it is what makes him happy. Either way, Juniper didn't seem comfortable elaborating on the topic, so Rowan decided to stop asking questions. He will tell him when he feels comfortable, or he won't. So, in case anyone asks they tell a silly little story about them meeting in a cafe in New York. Juniper was busy studying "important papers legal advisors study" and crashed into Rowan with a cup of coffee. Next day they ran into each other once again and Juniper offered to treat him to a coffee and pastry to make up for the other day. Small talk grew into a conversation into exchanging contacts into chatting nights long into a first date into a second date into Rowan having to go home and Juniper offering him to visit Legsworth with him once the summer ends. To be fair, Rowan wasn't sure how believable it all sounded, but if asked what he was doing in New York, he will simply say "visiting friends".
The train stops and woman in dynamics announces "Legsworth" in her cold pre-recorded voice.
Juniper's dad offered to meet them at the train station so that they don't have to push their baggage through the muddy off-roads.
"Good luck to us?" Rowan wishes, leaving a quick kiss on Juniper's cheek.
"Oh, don't be silly, hun. It's just meeting my dad, nothing serious!"
Doesn't sound encouraging, to be honest.
* * *
Things rarely go as Juniper say they will. This time they do though. Juniper's father turns out to be a nice man in his late fifties, kind faced, big gray moustache and balding middle of head. He shakes Rowan's hand and then hugs him in the "manly" kind of hug with two pats on the back. Suddenly, Rowan feels small. Not in a bad way necessarily, but in a way a child feels when meeting one of their father's friends. Shy and tiny. They don't talk a lot during the ride. In fact, only now Rowan realizes that his ears still hurt after the plane quite badly, the jet lag is hitting hard now. It's only five in the evening and Rowan got some sleep in the plane not so long ago, but he feels like if he hasn't slept for days. He looks into the window, while Juniper and his dad chat about business, and neighbors, and who married/divorced whom while Juniper was gone.
Rowan doesn't even feel the courage to properly meet Sloan's family dog, Bart, who jumps at Juniper the moment he opens the door of the car.
"Barts! Bart! Baby, you missed me? Yes you did! Yes you did!" Juniper exclaims, rubbing dog's back and squeezing his already very wrinkled snout. Bart is a Saint Bernard and a really big one too, so in a matter of seconds Juniper's face, and hands, and clothes are all covered in drool, and his hair is all sticking up.
Next Bart takes an interest in Rowan. Of course, he does, he probably hasn't seen anyone new in years! Rowan tries to pet him and greet the animal the best he can, with Juniper cheering things like "Yes, who is it? Who is it, Barts? Look who's here!" on the background, but he is just exhausted.
"You, boys, gotta be knackered? It's was long-long travel." Juniper's dad says, noticing how absentmindedly Rowan scratches Bart behind the ear.
"A little kip would be nice indeed." Juniper admits. "Mum's home?"
"Nay, she's gone to butchers."
"Oh, splendid, nobody to tell us how impolite it is to return home and go straight to bed! Wouldn't want me and Rowan answering her one hundred and one questions now."
"Juniper m'boy, you'll have to answer them sooner or later or she wouldn't be your mother."
"Rather later than sooner." Juniper concludes, taking his and Rowan's luggage out of the trunk. "Let's go get some rest." He calls for Chow's attention.
The only social interaction Rowan has to manage before reaching the bedroom is saying good morning to Juniper's grandad (his father's father who lives with them). It seems kind of funny to him how similar in appearance mr.Sloan the Oldest and his son are.
"I hope you don't mind me not showing you around the house. I promise I will later."
"June, I'm ready to drop, couldn't be more glad for you not doing this."
Juniper's room is a rather small room on a second floor with a compact wardrobe, a desk with transparent boxes for sewing materials standing on it, fluffy pastel pink carpet and a seemingly single bed.
"Question: where do I sleep?" Rowan asks, looking around the room.
"On the floor." Juniper jokes, rolling out a trundle part of the bed. "Do you really think I'll let you in my bed for a pleasure of getting kicked and robbed of covers in the dark of the night?"
Rowan rolls his eyes. "Ha ha, very funny."
They only slept together once before and at that point they weren't yet a couple, at least not in "official" sense. Rowan is a restless sleeper, he tosses and turns a lot, so that one time ended with him pushing Juniper out of the bed while asleep. To be fair, camp beds are smaller and aren't made for people sleeping in them together.
"Help me with mattress, will you?"
In two minutes, the bed is all ready. Rowan wants to just fall down on it and close his eyes, but he is stopped with a "not in street clothes you won't!" gasp, so he has to dive all the way into his luggage to find his home t-shirt and sweat pants first. They change and finally get under the covers. It's early September, but it's already remarkably cold in Legsworth.
"Your dad and grandfather look so similar." Rowan notices, turning on his left side to face Juniper.
"Like hell they do! Wait until you get to know them, you'll be surprised they are father and son, and not brothers!" Juniper agrees. He pauses a little then. "But, I mean, in another twenty years..."
"Please, don't say you will look like them, this will put me into existential crisis."
"I will probably look like them."
"Oh no-o-o-o." Rowan hushed cry fades, smile in his eyes. "I will still love you though."
"Even with balding middle of head and big stupid moustache?"
"Well, both of us will start balding at some point, it's natural. I would rather go without the second part though. But, yes, even with big stupid moustache."
Juniper chuckles. "Aw, c'mere."
* * *
Rowan's consciousness awakes because somebody walks into the room which is now significantly darker compared to moment when Chow fell asleep. He can still feel Juniper's breath on his neck, his hair tickling his chin. Rowan feels someone standing at the foot of the bed and in second comes a loud sharp whisper.
"Juniper!"
Rowan can feel Juniper twitch, then turn, taking his hand away from Rowan's waist.
"You're awake? Good. We need spare hands to cook the dinner."
"Hello to you too, mum." Juniper voices quietly, sitting up.
"He can help too." The woman notices.
"I think it's better for him to sleep." Juniper objects. "He doesn't take flights as easy as I do."
The woman scowls. They leave the room together, leaving Rowan, now fully awaken, alone. Juniper closes the door behind him carefully. Rowan opens his eyes and stares at it. He sure is thankful Juniper let him stay out of this one. It's not that he still feels bad after the flight. Actually, Chow feels a lot better now, his ears aren't hurting anymore and the two hours of sleep were exactly what he needed. The truth is, he isn't much of a help in kitchen. Cooking never was his thing, and that's not even this fact, but mostly him feeling like Juniper's mom is going to be a piece of work, so he'd rather not officially meet her trying to help with dinner and almost cutting his finger off or accidentally setting something on fire. And, really, for those few things he heard about mrs.Sloan and even fewer seconds of hearing her speak, Rowan is almost sure he'll have to run himself into the ground to get her to like him.
He doesn’t want to sleep anymore, so he sits up and looks the room around. All the furniture is wooden, Rowan thinks there are definitely years of family memories attached to it. There is a full-length mirror with some colorful sticky notes on it. Some of them are remainders of everyday chores, some are old to-do lists, there's one saying "you look spiffing :)" with small hearts drawn in the corner. The wardrobe doors are painted with floral ornament (Rowan wonders if it's Juniper's work - feels like his kind of thing to do), there are some flours on the legs too, a lot of them. Rowan can picture Juniper sitting there all day, hyper focused on the idea of turning his wardrobe base into a tiny flour field. Rowan finds interesting that some flours are clearly drawn by a child or children. Maybe Juniper had to look after neighbor's kids or had young cousins visiting?
Rowan can hear footsteps approaching the door, so he lies down again, back turned to the door, blanket over his head. In a second door opens, a person walks across the room and sits down on a bed.
"Hun," Juniper says, rolling the blanket down a bit, placing his palm on Rowan's shoulder. "Dinner's ready."
Rowan looks at Juniper for several seconds, then sits up once again.
"I probably should change into something more... presentable. You think?"
"I think you're good the way you are."
"No, really, first dinner with your parents and everything."
"It's just a family dinner at home, so you can just go like this. But if it'll make you more comfortable!"
"It– Yes, it will." Rowan admits. "Are you going to change?"
Juniper too hasn't yet changed out of his sleeping clothes.
"I didn't plan to initially, but now I will to keep you company. Just don't dress too officially."
Rowan ends up wearing an almond turtleneck sweater and a pair of tartan trousers. He tries to tell himself it's nothing scary down there, on the first floor, in the kitchen, while walking down the stairs. Juniper told him the same before they left the room, but what does he know, it's his family, not Rowan's. He tries to calm his nerves mostly by reminding himself he already met the father and grandfather and they seemed nice, by remembering that Juniper will be by his side, but for some reason mrs.Sloans sharp voice doesn't want to leave his mind. However, when they reach the kitchen, the mother of the family is nowhere to be seen.
They take their sits: Juniper next to the window, Rowan next to Juniper.
"Mum's decided not to grace us with her presence?" Juniper asks, half-jokingly.
As soon as he says that there's an answer coming from behind, almost giving Rowan a heart attack. "I'm right behind you, luv."
Mrs.Sloan is a tall slim woman with red wavy hair going white. She puts a bowl of salad on the table, then takes her sit. That's when Rowan realizes his biggest tactical mistake. Have seen three nearing empty chairs a minute ago he should have thought for a little and do whatever but sit in the middle one. But he did not. It's a rather small table, so there he is now sitting face to face with the one he feared the most.
"Oh c'mon, Rowan, she is just an old lady." He thinks to himself.
"Everything alright, dear?" Mrs.Sloan asks putting on a little smile, staring right into Rowan's eyes.
"Uh, yes, sorry, ma'am– mrs.Sloan!" He replies almost automatically, in a way a distracted student would to a teacher.
"Oi! Now don't you 'ma'am' and 'mrs' at me, we're not in the classroom, mister!"
Now this...is clearly sarcasm. Rowan feels so unbelievably relieved, he almost cracks a silly smile. He can clearly see now where large proportion of Juniper's mannerisms came from, it's almost like he is looking at the older version of Juniper, maybe a little stricter and a lot more organized (at least she seems so).
"You can call me Olivia. Nice to finally meet you in person, sweetheart!" Mrs.Sloan says. "So, Rowan, tell us about yourself."
"Uh, oh where do I start..." Rowan feels a bit lost in words out of pure surprise how welcoming Juniper's mom is.
"What do you do for living?" Olivia helps, looking at him with encouraging smile.
"I'm a guitar tutor, working in camp at summer." Rowan tells and feels Juniper lightly step on his foot under the table. "I-I also have a YouTube channel, but that's more of a hobby, really!" He adds immediately.
The rest of the dinner goes surprisingly well. Rowan answers some questions about Iowa, living in States in general, a lot questions about his tutoring job and working in a camp (Juniper's mom seems especially invested in last two). All in all it goes smooth and comfortable.
* * *
It's too late to look around Legsworth properly, but it's never too late to wander together, hand in hand, in no particular direction. September sunset smoulders, leaving the stars-embers behind to burn somewhere else, night follows gently behind it. Rowan still can't put a finger on what it is about the Legsworth's sky that doesn't make him want to run and hide.
"I think it went well! At least better than I thought." Rowan voices. "How did I do?"
"Well-l-l, you sobered me up a little there, mentioning a summer job, but that's nothing severe. They like you; I think. At least dad and grandpa definitely do."
"What about your mom? I was terrified to meet her, to be honest, but I think we got on good? You think so?"
Juniper sighs. "As much as I don't want to discourage you, it's hard to tell with her. She's genuinely nice to everyone, but that's why you can never tell what's actually on her mind."
"She kinda has a primary school teacher vibe. Not in a bad way."
"That's because she is one! Professional hazard, eh?"
"She sounds a lot like you." Rowan notices. "Or probably another way round."
Juniper doesn't comment on this one.
They walk off the road making their way up the hill. The whole town can be seen from the top. It's not that big of a town, it's not that high of a hill. It's about ten in the evening – Legsworth is slowly falling asleep, deeming the lights and letting the stars shine their beauty at their brightest. Rowan has lived in city for as long as he can remember, so it's unusual for him to see how early the day ends here. He is only to find out how early it starts. But there are a lot of things he doesn't yet know or understand about this place. Take the sky. Rowan still can't pinpoint what's about it that comforts him regardless of the tense relationship between him and the celestial sphere he happened to be born into. He isn't sure if he ever saw stars as clearly as he does now, not disturbed by the city lights and not blinded by his own fear to actually look at them. He stares at the sky with a silent question and the answer is as silent.
Juniper looks at Rowan thinking of something to say, but decides not to. It's like he feels the ephemerality of the conversation, not daring to distract the man beside him from finally having it. Instead, he looks up too. Juniper loves the sky in his hometown. Even all those years later he finds it as elegantly mysterious as he did in his childhood. And he loves Rowan. And Rowan loves him too, although now he is more caught up in trying to understand his complex feelings for the sky above him. But the sky? It hardly cares about the opinions of those below. Only this story is not about it.