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It was one of those scalding hot days in January. Peter had decided to walk home after the football practice that he’d taken over for Leo for the summer – he’d stay until the school hired someone more permanent. His T-shirt clung to his back and chest, and the water bottle he’d filled up at the school before leaving, was empty already.

Despite the physical strain, Peter needed the walk to calm down his thoughts and get them in order. So far, his day hadn’t consisted of much; breakfast with his parents and John – something they never did before this summer, but that he really enjoyed – and football practice.

It was noon, and he was already exhausted.

He didn’t have anything on until board game night with the family, which his mum had insisted on them making a weekly thing. Usually, this gap in his timetable would mean he’d hang out at Balthazar’s parents’ house or have Balthazar come to Peter’s parents’ house, but Balthazar was busy all day and so were all his other friends, it seemed, so Peter didn’t actually know what to do.

Since he and Balthazar made the drive from Wellington to Auckland for the summer in December, Peter had been told that he didn’t need to do more for the Dukes than keep the football team on their toes and in shape.

Granted, that was a challenge in and of itself at first since it had been a while since Peter had properly played football himself. But he found that he enjoyed being an authority figure, and Leo was good at helping him with regimens if he was stuck on ideas.

He wanted to do more, though. It felt wrong not to do more than coach a football team. But the Dukes had a lot of people pitching in, and he didn’t want to be in their way.

The sweat was dripping down his neck, and he could actually smell himself pretty strongly when he got to his parents’ house, so he went straight to the shower.

‘How was practice?’ John asked when Peter entered the kitchen, newly showered. He handed Peter a glass of ice water, which Peter happily took.

‘Good. They’re making progress, so that’s good. What’ve you been up to?’ he asked and watched as John tried to find an apple that wasn’t bruised in the fruit bowl.

‘Reading, mostly. Oh, and Balthazar stopped by a couple of hours ago. Wanted me to give you this,’ John said and fished something out of his pocket. It was an envelope with Peter’s name on it in Balthazar’s neat handwriting. ‘I didn’t read it, I promise.’

‘Didn’t think you would, bro,’ Peter said and took the envelope, his stomach swooping, and tried his best at not beaming.

‘I’m glad you make each other happy,’ John said a little softer than usual before leaving Peter alone in the kitchen with the envelope.

For a second, Peter just stood there, leaning on the kitchen counter, staring at it. Then he tried his best at not violently ripping it open in desperation at getting to the contents. Inside was a hand-written letter.

Dear Pete
This seemed like a good idea at 2am last night, when I couldn’t sleep, but now I honestly feel silly. I mean, it’s completely sentimental and old fashioned, but hopefully it’ll make your day just a little bit better, which makes it worth it.
I know we don’t get to see each other as much as we’d both like, and I actually miss you a lot when I don’t see you. Which is stupid. We’re staying in houses that are only a couple of streets away from each other. But it’s true. I miss you.
I hadn’t realised how busy this summer was going to be between my job at that music holiday programme, you coaching the football team for Leo, and our families monopolising most of our free time. I’ve hardly seen your face since New Years. I don’t like it.
Anyway, I should probably end this before I start getting too sentimental. Can’t have that, can we?
I love you.
Your Balth

Peter was grinning from ear to ear and immediately pulled his phone from his pocket. He re-read the letter while it was ringing, his heart melting in a way that had nothing to do with the heat outside.

On the fifth ring, Balthazar picked up, and Peter could hear the sound of a piano getting fainter as Balthazar said, ‘Hello?’

‘You’re such a sap,’ Peter said affectionately.

‘Was it a bit much?’ Balthazar asked, and Peter could clearly imagine Balthazar blushing and ducking his head.

‘It was perfect; so romantic. It kind of made me want to skip board game night so I can thank you properly,’ Peter smirked, knowing that if Balthazar hadn’t been blushing before, he was now.

‘Don’t ditch your family for me. I’ll be going back to Wellington with you soon and then they won’t see you for a long time,’ Balthazar reasoned, and Peter’s smile softened. ‘I do want to see you soon, though. How does your day look tomorrow?’

‘Mum asked me to help her pick out new outdoor furniture. Not sure when we’re supposed to leave or when we’re going to be back,’ Peter said. ‘And then in the evening, I promised to do some one-on-one training with this guy from the football team. You know, the way Leo used to do with me? So tomorrow might not be the best day for me. How about Friday? I don’t have anything on then. We could get dressed up and go for a date in town?’

‘Friday’s no good; parents’ day at work. It doesn’t end until really late, and I’m probably going to be exhausted so Saturday is probably not good either. Unless of course you want to sleep over.’

‘Nah, Saturday we’re going on a trip to visit some family for a few days. Are we seriously not going to see each other for another week and a half?’ Peter asked exasperatedly and put his face in his free hand.

‘Looks that way,’ Balthazar said, disappointment evident in his voice. ‘But hey, we live together in Wellington, so when we go back there we’ll see each other all the time.’

‘Yeah, I’m not sure I can wait until February to be sure to spend time with you, though,’ Peter said. ‘I mean, we just started dating; we’re supposed to be sickeningly cute and clingy all the time.’

Balthazar laughed softly, making Peter’s gut flutter. ‘I know. But sometimes life throws you a curve ball, I guess. We just need to get through it.’

-

‘Can we please put our phones in this tonight?’ Peter’s mum asked, holding up a small basket while Peter and John were setting up for a game of Trivial Pursuit. ‘To eliminate cheating.’

Peter snorted as the last comment had been directed at his dad, who had just walked in with snacks. Peter exchanged a look with John as the two of them merely listened to their father trying to defend himself but failing miserably.

‘Hey Mum, by the way, does Aunt Carol still have that holiday home that we went to when I was a kid?’ Peter said when the discussion had been settled by Peter’s father reluctantly placing his phone in the basket.

‘Yes, she does. Why do you ask, honey?’ his mum replied.

‘Do you think she’d allow – say – family members to use it if they asked nicely?’ Peter asked, and this caught not only his mum’s, but his dad’s and John’s attention as well.

‘You and Balthazar going away?’ John asked casually, being the first one to break the silence that had briefly fallen over the family.

‘That’s the idea,’ Peter said, not looking up from the board.

His mum’s features softened, and when Peter did look up, she was smiling at him. ‘I’ll talk to her about it. I’m sure it’s not a problem.’

‘Great, thanks,’ Peter said with a nod. ‘So who’s starting?’

John grabbed the dice from Peter’s hand. ‘Youngest first, obviously.’

-

Half an hour into the game, Peter was doing okay – better than his dad, worse than his mum and way worse than John – when there was a knock at the door before it opened.

‘Who is it?’ Peter’s mum called without looking up from the board.

‘It’s just me,’ said a voice that made Peter turn his head fast enough that he was at risk of whiplash. Balthazar. ‘I’m sorry to be crashing game night.’

‘Nonsense, you’re always welcome here, Balthazar,’ said Peter’s dad, waving Balthazar over to the table.

Peter got up and met Balthazar with a tight hug. Neither of them was very comfortable with kissing when other people were in the room – at least not when they knew those people were staring at them – so Peter settled for a kiss on his cheek as he pulled away, and took Balthazar’s hand, leading him to the chair that John had pulled up for him next to Peter’s.

‘So what colour is Pete?’ Balthazar asked when they’d sat down, still holding hands.

‘Blue,’ Peter admitted and caught the short laugh before Balthazar could stop it. ‘Hey, I got all the hard questions. This game is totally rigged!’

‘If you say so,’ Balthazar said with an amused smile and squeezed Peter’s hand.

-

‘Are you staying the night, Balthazar?’ Peter’s mum asked when they were packing up the game, Peter having taken a second place thanks to Balthazar helping him.

‘If none of you mind,’ Balthazar said, and even though Peter was sure none of them minded, he was ready to fight any protester.

‘Of course we don’t mind. You two run along, we can handle the rest,’ Peter’s mum said, shooing Peter and Balthazar toward Peter’s bedroom. Peter really appreciated her understanding of how much he wanted to be alone with Balthazar right now.

As soon as the door was closed and locked, Peter grabbed Balthazar’s waist and pulled him close.

‘Hey,’ he said softly, while Balthazar’s hands slowly ran up his arms.

‘Hey,’ Balthazar replied and leaned in just a bit, closing the gap and kissing Peter softly.

The kiss quickly got heated, though, and Peter let his hand slip up Balthazar’s shirt, caressing his lower back. He was still a little careful with overstepping boundaries with Balthazar, because he knew that Balthazar sometimes just wanted to make out like this without going further, and all he ever wanted was for Balthazar to be happy and comfortable.

Peter felt Balthazar’s hands move to his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of his T-shirt; he loved it when Balthazar did that. Balthazar pulled Peter closer, and Peter could feel Balthazar against his thigh.

Balthazar pulled back a little, his eyes full of fire and joy, and he kept eye contact while his hands moved further down to undo Peter’s jeans. Peter pulled his T-shirt over his head and started unbuttoning Balthazar’s shirt as they kissed again and fell onto Peter’s bed together.

John started playing loud music in his room, which made Balthazar pull back and look at Peter again, this time with an embarrassed look on his face.

Peter couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Oh, yeah, apparently we were loud last time.’

Balthazar buried his face in Peter’s shoulder, while Peter continued to laugh at how adorable Balthazar was when he was embarrassed.

‘Hey,’ Peter said when he’d calmed down a little, ‘thank you for the letter.’

Balthazar buried his face further into the crook between Peter’s neck and shoulder. ‘I can’t believe I did it.’

‘I’m glad you did. I was starting to think we’d abandoned our habit of sappy grand gestures,’ Peter joked, which made Balthazar pull his head back and shoot him a look.

‘What do you mean by habit?’ Balthazar asked.

‘You know,’ Peter said and kissed him, slowly turning them so that he was on top of Balthazar. ‘You write me songs; I wrote you a sonnet; saying we love each other for the first time in front of an amazing view, that sort of stuff.’

While he talked, Peter had been kissing his way down Balthazar’s jaw, neck and chest while continuing to unbutton Balthazar’s shirt. He placed kisses all the way down Balthazar’s stomach.

‘Oh, that,’ Balthazar said with a smirk, letting out a soft gasp as Peter allowed his tongue to leave a wet trail just above Balthazar’s waistband.

‘Yeah, that,’ Peter said, pulling himself up so that his face was level with Balthazar’s and kissed his lips.

Balthazar flipped them so that he was on top now and kissed Peter’s neck before nibbling a little on his ear. Peter couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be that right there, right then.

They made out on the bed like that for a little while, and Balthazar had just started grinding down a little when there was a knock at the door, making the both of them freeze, Peter’s hand down Balthazar’s jeans.

‘Sorry if I’m interrupting something,’ Peter’s mum’s voice came through the door, and Peter had never wanted her to leave as much as he did now. ‘I just wanted to tell you that Aunt Carol is okay with you two staying at her holiday home.’

‘Thanks Mum!’ Peter called out, not able to hide the annoyance in his voice.

‘Holiday home?’ Balthazar asked, looking cautiously intrigued.

‘Yeah, it was supposed to be a surprise, but I was thinking that we could spend a few days at my aunt’s holiday home before going back to Wellington, just the two of us,’ Peter explained and kissed Balthazar on the lips.

‘Aha, I see. And how were you going to convince me?’ Balthazar asked with a teasing glint in his eye.

‘Well,’ Peter said, moving his hand slightly, ‘imagine having no obligations but being together for a few days, with no parents or siblings or friends to barge in on us.’

‘Hmm,’ Balthazar said, playing it surprisingly cool at how Peter expertly moved his hand just a little bit. ‘I’m tempted,’ he said and kissed Peter’s lips, ‘but I need a little more to be convinced.’

Peter narrowed his eyes at Balthazar, trying to figure out which argument Balthazar was waiting for, while simultaneously trying not to focus on how Balthazar’s fingers were now weaving through his hair.

‘You can decide what music we hear on the whole trip,’ Peter said, making Balthazar laugh.

‘Not what I had in mind, but I’m not going to pass up an opportunity like that,’ Balthazar said and ground down against Peter’s hand.

‘So you like the idea?’ Peter asked to be sure.

‘Pete, I love it,’ Balthazar said and kissed him passionately on the mouth.

-

A week before they had to be back in Wellington to prepare for the new semester, Balthazar and Peter packed up Peter’s car and drove to his aunt’s holiday home.

They stopped at a supermarket to get supplies so that they wouldn’t have to leave the house while they were staying there. Their parents had donated some things because they knew that the two students didn’t have a lot of money, but there were still some things that they needed, so about an hour’s drive from the holiday home they pulled into the parking lot.

Balthazar pulled the wheeled basket behind him while Peter held his hand. It was funny how natural it all felt, and Peter was a little giddy inside every time they actually held hands in public; it made it real. What was even better, whenever they let go of each other’s hands they always knew that it was only for a little while. The feeling of security that came with holding each other’s hands didn’t leave completely; it was always sort of there; Peter loved that.

‘You want eggs for breakfast, right?’ Balthazar asked when they got to the dairy aisles.

‘Sure, but we don’t have to get eggs if I’m the only one of us eating them,’ Peter said. He was not entirely sure where Balthazar was with his “going vegan” thing anymore.

‘I can eat eggs. As long as they’re organic, it’s all good,’ Balthazar said. ‘Would you mind grabbing some milk?’

‘Sure,’ Peter said and left Balthazar by the eggs to go find the milk. When he got there, though, he started doubting himself. What kind of vegan milk had Balthazar had back at the flat? Peter remembered him trying out the different kinds, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember which one Balthazar had settled on.

It wasn’t that Peter hadn’t paid attention to Balthazar, but in his head, the milk in the fridge back at the flat had always either been cow’s milk or vegan milk.

‘Hey babe?’ He looked around to find that Balthazar had left the dairy aisles, and there was a woman, whose hair was greying, looking at him like she was terribly offended. ‘Sorry.’ Embarrassed, he left as quickly as possible to find Balthazar.

He didn’t have to go far. Balthazar was behind the first set of shelves, reading the ingredients on a jar of tomato sauce. Peter went up to him and rested his forehead on Balthazar’s shoulder for a moment.

‘You okay?’ Balthazar asked, resting his hand on Peter’s neck, caressing him gently.

‘I just called a middle aged woman “babe”,’ he said and lifted his head to see that Balthazar was fighting laughter.

‘Why would you do that?’

‘Because I wanted to ask you which kind of vegan milk you prefer, but you were gone and I hadn’t noticed that you left,’ Peter explained, holding up the carton of oat milk he had in his hands.

‘Aw, you’re sweet,’ Balthazar said and kissed his cheek, ‘but I think we’ll just get regular milk. If we’re only there for a few days it doesn’t make sense to have two types of milk.’

‘Who says we’d have to get two types? I can drink your vegan milk for a few days,’ Peter said.

‘Really, Pete, it’s not a problem.’

‘No, it’s not. So which one do you prefer?’ Peter asked, raising his eyebrows.

Balthazar looked him in the eyes like he was searching for something, before a soft smile spread on his face. ‘Oat milk is fine,’ he said and pecked Peter on the lips.

-

They arrived at the holiday home a little over an hour later. The air was hot and clammy, and as far as Peter knew, the house didn’t have air conditioning. But he was here with Balthazar, and that was all that mattered. For the next few days it was only going to be about the two of them. No wifi, very poor phone signal, and no friends or relatives bursting in on them or knocking on their door at inappropriate times.

When they’d carried the groceries and their stuff inside and made the bed, Peter laid back on it, sweaty and tired, stretching his arms out to either side.

‘This is a comfortable bed,’ he commented, closing his eyes for a moment.

‘That, paired with the way you’re just lying there, is the laziest pick-up line I’ve ever heard,’ Balthazar laughed, and Peter propped himself up on his elbows.

‘Did it work?’ He hadn’t meant it as a pick-up line, but honestly, he kind of always wanted Balthazar.

Balthazar just rolled his eyes with a smile, sitting down on the bed with his guitar. He started plucking at the strings, just playing around, and he got this concentrated look on his face.

There was something about Balthazar playing music that made Peter’s insides turn to mush. Even before he’d realised just how much he loved Balthazar, he’d known that Balthazar playing music was one of his favourite things to listen to and watch.

He sat up, mirroring the way Balthazar was sitting cross legged on the bed, and rested his chin on his hand, his elbow leaning on his knee. He could look at Balthazar all day. He was so fucking beautiful, and Peter felt a wave of pure love wash over him as he watched his boyfriend’s fingers skilfully run across the fret.

‘I love you,’ Peter mumbled fondly, both just because he knew he could, but also because he felt like he’d have exploded if he hadn’t.

Balthazar looked up and smiled at him, ‘I love you too.’

-

They made dinner together. Balthazar had gotten pretty good at making all sorts of interesting vegan meals, and though he wasn’t as strict with it as he’d been the previous year, having Peter be so supportive kind of made him want to make an effort. However, Balthazar had snuck a steak with him, provided by Anne Donaldson, for Peter to eat; he was saving it for the last night, though.

While Peter set the table out on the terrace, Balthazar pulled one of the bottles of wine that his own parents had donated. He was weighing up whether they should save it for another night, and if he actually wanted to drink it with Peter at all. Alcohol had become a bit of a sensitive subject for him.

‘Looking for the wine opener?’ Peter asked, coming in through the sliding glass doors.

‘Actually, I’m not sure I feel like wine tonight at all,’ Balthazar said, hoping Peter wouldn’t pick up on that weird feeling in Balthazar’s gut.

‘Okay. We’ll have water, then,’ Peter said and placed a quick kiss on Balthazar’s cheek before grabbing two water glasses to bring outside. A mix of relief and guilt spread through Balthazar, but he tried to ignore it as best he could.

Eating dinner, just him and Peter, was something they hadn’t done since that one date they managed before going back to Auckland for Christmas, and it struck Balthazar how much he loved it. It was different from the year before when Freddie and Ben would leave the two of them to be the only ones to eat dinner in the flat, and it was different from having dinner with each other’s families.

The domesticity of it was what Balthazar loved the most about it. They talked about stuff their friends or siblings had done at some point over summer, or things they needed to remember for the flat that they were moving into after this trip.

Sometimes, during a lull in the conversation, Peter would get this soft smile on his face, though, melting Balthazar’s insides.

‘Have you talked to Freddie about what she’s doing this year?’ Peter asked casually, picking at his salad.

‘I think she said she’s moving in with Kit. Or maybe that was Kit that told me that,’ Balthazar said with a frown, trying to remember, before shrugging off the thought. ‘Why?’

‘No reason, just curious. It’s going to be weird not having her trying to control the place,’ Peter said, leaning back in his seat.

‘Or Ben filming everything,’ Balthazar added, and Peter pointed at him with raised eyebrows as if to acknowledge Balthazar’s point.

-

It was surprisingly cold when Peter started waking up, but lucky for him, he had his boyfriend snuggled up close to him. Without opening his eyes, Peter wrapped his arms around Balthazar and kissed the top of his head, as he could feel Balthazar’s hair tickling his chin.

‘Early,’ Balthazar mumbled, and Peter hummed in agreement. ‘Cold, too.’

‘Mhm,’ Peter mumbled, almost drifting back to sleep.

The sound of rain falling outside, hitting the open window, was relaxing, but with the rain the temperature had dropped since the night before, and Peter pulled the blanket further up around the both of them.

‘Is it raining?’ Balthazar asked, his voice still tinged with sleep, and Peter felt him caressing Peter’s stomach with his thumb where his hand was resting.

‘I think so,’ Peter said with a yawn. He was in that weird state where he knew he couldn’t sleep anymore, but his eyes wouldn’t open quite yet either.

‘Typical,’ Balthazar sighed and buried his face into Peter’s shoulder.

‘Why, did you have plans for today?’ Peter asked with a soft laugh.

‘No, it’s not that,’ Balthazar said and sat up, leaving Peter’s side cold. Peter opened his eyes and looked at where Balthazar was sitting, running a hand through his hair. ‘It’s just that it barely rained all summer, and then we go away and it’s pouring.’

‘I’m sure it’ll clear up soon enough,’ Peter said, resting his hands behind his head, enjoying the view. Balthazar turned around and smiled at Peter.

‘Yeah, you’re probably right,’ he said and lay back down, cuddling into Peter under the covers.

-

When the rain hadn’t stopped a few hours later, and they’d finally gotten themselves out of bed and had breakfast, Peter sat down on the sofa with a book beside Balthazar who had taken out his guitar and a notebook and was composing.

Peter tried paying attention to the story he was reading but he couldn’t help peeking up at Balthazar every few lines, appreciating the fact that he didn’t have to hide the fact that he loved looking at Balthazar. He’d spent so much time over the past few years – after acknowledging to himself that he had romantic feelings for Balthazar – trying to steal glances, dreaming of this kind of scenario.

He tried continuing to read while he tucked his feet underneath Balthazar’s thigh, earning him a small smile and head shake from Balthazar. This encouraged Peter and he started wiggling his toes, making Balthazar look at him, amusement written all over his face, with raised eyebrows.

‘You are a child,’ Balthazar said fondly, and Peter’s stomach swooped at the look in Balthazar’s eyes.

‘Joke’s on you, you’re dating this child,’ Peter teased and stuck his tongue out at Balthazar.

‘Alright, don’t make it gross.’

‘Hey, you started it!’ Peter laughed and put his book on the coffee table; there was no need pretending that he was actually reading. Then he opened his arms and beckoned Balthazar to come to him.

Balthazar rolled his eyes but put down his guitar and crawled up to lie on top of Peter, kissing him gently on the lips.

‘We should actually do something today besides just sitting here,’ Peter said when the kiss was over, his arms wrapped around Balthazar, keeping him where he was.

‘Like what?’ Balthazar asked while he played with Peter’s hair. Peter closed his eyes and let himself get distracted by it for a moment.

‘We could go swimming,’ he suggested and opened his eyes to find Balthazar looking sceptical. ‘What? I went swimming all the time when I came here as a kid.’

‘Well, okay, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining,’ Balthazar laughed.

‘So? We’d get wet anyway,’ Peter said while he let his hand slide up under Balthazar’s shirt.

‘If you really want to, I’ll do it, but it’s bound to be freezing,’ Balthazar said with a shake of his head.

-

Half an hour later they’d finally gotten up from the sofa and had changed into their bathing suits. The terrace hung over the lake, which had provided them with an amazing view when they’d eaten dinner there the night before, sitting out and watching the sunset together. The lake was surrounded by trees, and parts of the water were coated with green algae. The rain wasn’t more than a drizzle by now, but that didn’t make it any less cold.

Peter went in almost immediately, saying that there was no use in letting the rain get them wet before they went in. Balthazar, on the other hand, didn’t find the lake particularly inviting, though he had to admit that the rain did mean that fewer bugs were around. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the terrace and dipped his legs into the water, which – as he’d predicted – was freezing.

Peter gasped when he came up for air after having jumped in and swam to Balthazar who was looking at him with that look Peter had gotten a lot since they’d started dating – or at least he’d started noticing it after they’d started dating; that you’re-ridiculous-and-I-can’t-believe-I’m-in-love-with-you look.

With a mischievous smile, Peter took Balthazar’s hands and started swimming backwards, trying to coax him into getting into the water, but Balthazar pulled him back.

‘Nice try,’ Balthazar laughed through clattering teeth. The temperature wasn’t exactly low, but the raindrops falling on his bare skin made him shiver.

‘You know, if you get in, you’ll get used to the temperature of the water,’ Peter said.

‘Yeah, you’ll need to come up with something better if you want to convince me,’ Balthazar said, placing his hands on Peter’s shoulders as Peter had swum close enough for that, now with his own hands on Balthazar’s hips.

‘I’ll do that thing you like in bed later,’ Peter smirked and winked at Balthazar, making him laugh.

‘Who do you think you’re kidding? You’ll do that anyway.’ Balthazar slipped down into the water, holding himself steady by Peter’s shoulders. He gasped, like all the air had left his body, as the cold water hit his stomach. ‘That’s fucking cold!’

‘Let me see if I can help,’ Peter said before pulling Balthazar in and kissing him deeply. The kiss drew out and they wrapped their arms around each other. Peter ran a hand through Balthazar’s hair, making it damper in the process than the rain had managed.

When the kiss ended, they looked each other in the eye for a moment.

‘Did that take your mind off things?’ Peter asked, leaning his forehead against Balthazar’s.

Balthazar pretended to think it over, before responding. ‘No, it’s still really cold.’

‘Yeah, maybe swimming wasn’t the best idea,’ Peter admitted, looking around them at the lake before turning his attention back to Balthazar with a mischievous grin. ‘We’re definitely going to need a shower.’

-

Taking advantage of not having to share the bathroom with anyone, they took their time showering together. After the cold lake and rain, the hot water was more than welcome, and Balthazar spent a good 30 seconds just standing under the shower head with his eyes closed, letting the warm water heat him up again. When he opened his eyes, he saw Peter leaning on the wall, a fond smile on his face.

‘What?’ Balthazar asked, suddenly feeling a little shy.

Peter pushed off the wall and took a step closer to Balthazar, wrapping his arms around him. ‘You looked really happy. I like seeing you like that.’

‘I am happy,’ Balthazar said and kissed Peter’s shoulder. ‘You make me happy.’

‘You make me happy too,’ Peter said with such tenderness that made the butterflies in Balthazar’s gut flutter; he’d never get tired of hearing Peter say things like that.

‘But,’ Balthazar said and pulled back from the hug, ‘that lake really made you smell.’

Peter raised his eyebrows at him, fighting laughter. ‘Wow, that was rude.’

‘It’s the truth,’ Balthazar said, shrugging, not expecting Peter to take the shower head in his hands and aim at Balthazar. ‘That’s so unfair! I have nothing to defend myself with!’ he laughed.

‘Serves you right,’ Peter said, spraying water in Balthazar’s face before he put the showerhead up again, stepping under the water to actually clean himself.

When they were both clean and dressed again, they looked out the sliding doors to the terrace to see that the rain had stopped and the sun was shining on the damp trees and quiet lake.

‘Of course it stops raining after we’ve been swimming,’ Peter said with an eye roll as he got himself a glass of water.

‘We could go for a walk before all the bugs come out of hiding,’ Balthazar suggested, leaning on the kitchen counter. ‘Unless you’re afraid of getting mud all over your shoes.’

‘Babe, I played football for years, I’m not scared of a little mud,’ Peter said, crossing his arms over his chest.

‘I know you did, I was there for most of your games, remember?’ Balthazar said, mirroring Peter.

Peter’s mouth curled into a crooked smile. ‘Yeah, you were my biggest fan. Some might even call you a groupie.’

Balthazar felt his face heat up as he rolled his eyes and shook his head at Peter. ‘I was not a groupie. I had plenty of friends who played on that team, thank you very much.’

‘Perhaps, but we both know you couldn’t take your eyes off me,’ Peter said, stepping close to Balthazar, putting his hands on Balthazar’s biceps.

‘Dream on, Donaldson,’ Balthazar said and kissed Peter on the lips, his arms sliding around Peter’s waist. ‘So is that a yes to the walk?’

‘Alright, you went along with my swimming idea so I guess I can go for a walk with you,’ Peter teased.

-

The lake and holiday home was surrounded by woods, and around the lake was a trail that was partly shielded from the sun by the tall trees around it. As Peter and Balthazar walked along the trail, hand in hand, fingers intertwined, the occasional drop slid off a leaf and landed on either of their heads, making them look up at the green makeshift, leaky roof.

The trail was muddy and slippery, sloping slightly downward toward the lake and Peter – who was closest to the lake – had to step right in order to not slide down to the Sagittaria that inhabited the edge of the water.

‘This reminds me of a trip I went on as a kid with the Dukes,’ Peter said as Balthazar pulled him up a little so they could walk among the trees instead.

‘Yeah?’ Balthazar asked, encouraging Peter to go on.

‘Yeah, it was the autumn after I’d met Bea, Hero and Leo, I think. Bea had gone back to Wellington but my parents and Hero and Leo’s mums took us all out to these woods somewhere and let us run around on our own. Thinking about it, it was probably just as muddy. I remember because Mum made me take off my jeans and boots before I got into the car when we were going home,’ Peter said, watching his step as he told the story.

They’d been walking up the hill and were now at the top, looking out at the view of the forest, trail and the lake poking through the trees. Peter looked at Balthazar who was busy craning his neck to see how tall the trees were. They were both lost in the moment, but for different reasons.

Peter had thought that Balthazar would be the sap in the relationship, since he was the one who’d been in love the longest, and since he’d literally written Peter several songs, but he was realising that since Balthazar had loved him for years before Peter had even recognised that he had romantic feelings for Balthazar, it meant that Balthazar had had time to get used to it, in a way. Peter was still overwhelmed by it once in a while.

It didn’t mean that he was behind or that Balthazar’s love might have ebbed out, it just meant that Peter was realising just how much Balthazar had always loved him and had tried, subtly, to show him that.

Plus, Balthazar loved in a different way from Peter; quietly but wholly, whereas Peter loved completely but boldly. And he loved that they loved differently.

‘You’re doing it again,’ Balthazar said with a smirk, though still looking up.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Peter said, his eyes taking in every inch of Balthazar’s face as he turned his head and looked at Peter.

‘You’re staring at me like I’m some kind of puzzle.’

‘I’d say more like you’re a piece of art,’ Peter said, pulling Balthazar close, kissing him.

‘You are so cheesey,’ Balthazar laughed when he pulled back.

‘You love it.’

‘Yeah, I guess I do,’ Balthazar said, kissing Peter on the cheek and hugged him. ‘This trip was a really good idea.’

‘Oh, I’m full of good ideas,’ Peter whispered and pulled back just enough to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, making Balthazar laugh and rest his forehead against Peter’s shoulder.

‘You’re ridiculous, Pete.’

‘Race you back to the house,’ Peter challenged before pushing Balthazar off him, starting down the hill. However, when he got to the trail, he slipped and ended up falling on his butt.

‘That’s what you get for cheating!’ Balthazar called and started running toward the house, making sure he stepped the right places so he didn’t end up like Peter. He ended up winning by a second, pumping both his fists in the air, making Peter laugh so hard he doubled over, though that might also have something to do with how out of breath he was from running.

‘I totally… let you win,’ Peter said.

‘If that’s what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, Mr. Captain-of-the-football-team,’ Balthazar teased, trying to mask how out of breath he was himself.

-

Because he’d lost the race – and because it had been the plan all along – Peter made dinner while Balthazar sat on the sofa, playing around on his guitar. Occasionally, he’d stop playing to hear Peter humming along to the song he’d been playing. Every time, Peter wouldn’t notice the absence of the music for a couple of seconds and Balthazar got to listen to nothing but Peter humming.

‘Will you stop doing that? It’s embarrassing,’ Peter said, continuing to cut up vegetables with his back to Balthazar, but Balthazar knew him well enough to know that his face was probably red as a tomato.

‘I will if you sing a song with me,’ Balthazar said, leaning back on the sofa. Last time they’d sung together hadn’t exactly been ideal, but they weren’t at risk of repeating that particular situation this time, and everything before that stupid almost-kiss had been really nice.

‘Balthy, you’re the musician, not me,’ Peter said without turning around.

‘Come on, Pete,’ Balthazar said, placing his guitar carefully on the sofa, and walked up to stand beside Peter, leaning his lower back on the counter, ‘you have a great voice.’

Peter huffed. ‘I’m average at best.’

’What are you so afraid of?’ Balthazar asked, snatching a carrot stick and took a bite of it while frowning at Peter.

‘I’m not afraid. I told you,’ Peter said, dumping the vegetables in a pan and checked on the food that was already in the oven, ‘I’m just not a musician; I’ll leave that stuff to you.’

Balthazar studied Peter as he worked on the food. Something wasn’t right; Peter had never been this reluctant to sing with him. He sighed and said, ‘Well, I love your voice, and I love singing with you.’

‘That’s because you don’t have a single bad bone in your body,’ Peter said fondly and pecked Balthazar on the cheek before returning to the food. ‘Oh, could you get the wine and open it? Your mum was very adamant that we let it breathe before drinking it.’

‘Um, yeah sure,’ Balthazar said hesitantly, the bad feeling from the night before returning. He knew it was a good wine – he’d had it at his parents’ a couple of times over the summer – but he still wasn’t sure about drinking with Peter. He hoped Peter hadn’t picked up on his apprehensiveness.

‘What was that?’ Peter asked as Balthazar pulled out the bottle of wine and started looking for a wine opener.

‘What do you mean?’ Balthazar asked as innocently as he could, putting the bottle down on the counter to be able to search the drawer properly.

‘Do you not want wine? You said you liked it,’ Peter said, crossing his arms over his chest and looked at Balthazar who really didn’t want to have this conversation.

‘No, I do. I was just thinking that we could wait until tomorrow to drink it,’ Balthazar said before he could even register the thought, grateful that what came out of his mouth actually made sense.

Peter frowned at him. ‘We have two bottles. If we save both for tomorrow, we won’t be able to drive on Saturday.’

‘We don’t have to drink both bottles, you know,’ Balthazar mumbled, now having found the wine opener, but only fiddled with the bottle.

‘I know we don’t. What’s with you? Is this because I wouldn’t sing with you?’ Peter asked, and Balthazar couldn’t figure out whether he sounded angry or worried. A mix of both, perhaps.

‘No, not at all,’ Balthazar said, trying to smile at Peter, but didn’t think he quite succeeded, as Peter sent him a sceptical look. Then realisation washed over Peter’s face.

‘You don’t think I can handle the alcohol,’ Peter said quietly, and laughed without humour when Balthazar didn’t say anything. ‘Great, thanks for the vote of confidence, Balth.’

‘Look, I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t feel like this, but you didn’t exactly prove anything back in Wellington. I don’t think I’ve seen you drink responsibly since we moved down; you’ve either binged or been sober in the past year,’ Balthazar said, willing himself to look at Peter as he did so.

‘So you’re not even going to give me the benefit of the doubt? You think I don’t know how to stop once I’ve started?’ Peter asked.

‘That’s not what I’m saying and you know that, Pete,’ Balthazar sighed and rubbed the ridge of his eye, not sure how to make Peter understand. ‘It’s more my problem than yours, anyway.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Peter asked, seeming to have forgotten that there was food on the pan he was standing by so Balthazar reached out and started stirring – he didn’t want burnt food on top of an argument. Peter stepped back to give Balthazar some space.

Balthazar sighed. ‘I was really worried about you for a while there, and your drinking played a big part in that. So, you know, it brings up some bad memories, that’s all.’

‘What are you saying?’ Peter asked, and Balthazar could tell that he was starting to waver.

‘I just can’t help but think about all the mornings I’d find you out cold on the sofa or not home at all and feel so helpless because I didn’t know if you were okay,’ Balthazar said, lowering his voice as he spoke, the memories flashing before him. ‘I know you think I didn’t have to worry or whatever, but I couldn’t help it. It hurt to see you doing that to yourself. Honestly, it was scary.’

Peter seemed to deflate upon hearing that, and his arms fell to his sides. ‘Shit, Balth. I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s fine,’ Balthazar said with a wave of his hand. ‘Like I said, it’s more my problem than yours.’

‘It’s not, though. We’re supposed to be a team. I should’ve known. Fuck!’ Peter said, running his hand through his hair. ‘You were fine on New Year’s Eve, though.’

‘Did you not notice how much water I gave you? I made sure you always had a glass of water between drinks,’ Balthazar said, not believing that Peter hadn’t noticed.

‘It was a hot night, I thought you were just trying to keep me hydrated,’ Peter said, shrugging.

‘Yeah, well, I was, but that was just a small part of it. I didn’t want to dictate to you how much you could drink, but I didn’t want you to… I don’t know, sometimes I just don’t like the way you behave when you’re drunk.’

‘I’m not sure I follow,’ Peter said, although Balthazar could hear on the tone of Peter’s voice that he had an idea of what Balthazar was talking about.

‘I don’t know if you remember all the times I came to pick you up or helped you from the front door to your room because you were so drunk, but you weren’t always… well, nice,’ Balthazar said quietly, but just loud enough that he knew Peter could hear him. ‘And I know it was probably because you were so unhappy back then, but…’

They’d talked about all of this before, but some of these were things Balthazar had kept from Peter because he hadn’t thought it necessary to rehash every single bad memory from that time in their lives.

‘You never really learned to drink in moderation. Even at my birthday party you got sick.’ All of this was making Balthazar feel really uncomfortable, but he also knew that it was important that they talked about it.

‘Yeah,’ Peter said, sadness in his voice. ’I was doing fine for a while. But then everyone left, and I didn’t really have anyone to… I don’t know, distract me.’

Balthazar took the pan off the hot heating element and turned around to face Peter. ‘I feel terrible for having left, but I needed to take care of myself first.’

‘I know. We talked about this, remember? I don’t blame you, I’m just explaining,’ Peter said with a small smile.

They stood there for a minute, in silence, both feeling bad about the whole situation, before Peter drew a deep breath and went to pick up the bottle.

‘So,’ he said, looking at Balthazar, and held up the bottle, ’what do we do?’

Balthazar looked from the bottle, to Peter, and back, chewing on his bottom lip while he tried to make up his mind. Maybe now would be the best time to test out Peter’s ability to drink in moderation – or rather, it was a way to help Balthazar get over his issues with Peter drinking; after all, he knew that Peter didn’t really have drinking problem – Balthazar just had a problem associated with Peter and alcohol. Besides, as much as he might feel uncomfortable at the thought of Peter drinking, he knew how much Peter had changed for the better over the past few months, and that he no longer used alcohol as a crutch. And Balthazar trusted Peter. He needed to show him that.

He drew a deep breath before saying, ‘Open it.’

‘You sure?’ Peter asked, and Balthazar nodded, smiling at him.

-

The sun intruding through the way-too-thin curtains and onto his face woke Peter up. Grumbling, he turned his back to the window and tried going back to sleep. Balthazar’s soft laughter made him reconsider, though. He turned his head and squinted over his shoulder at the sunbathed figure beside him.

‘What are you laughing at?’ he asked, his voice a little raspy from disuse. He turned onto his back as Balthazar’s hands slid over his shoulder, his lips pressing against his upper arm.

‘You,’ Balthazar said, kissing his way up Peter’s shoulder, clavicle, neck, jaw, and – finally – lips. ‘You’re really cute when you’re offended by the sun.’

‘You’re cute always,’ Peter mumbled, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. ‘I could get used to waking up with kisses like that, by the way.’

‘I bet you could,’ Balthazar teased, tracing his fingers tenderly down Peter’s jaw. Peter turned his head and kissed Balthazar’s fingertips. His thumb was caressing Balthazar’s back.

They laid there for a while, wrapped up in each other. Balthazar traced his fingers lightly over Peter’s face, taking his time at each part. When he got to his lips, Peter couldn’t help but smile and kiss his fingers again. How was this actually real? How was he so lucky that he was lying here with Balthazar Jones?

‘I love you,’ he said, convinced that if he hadn’t said it, his chest would have burst with it.

Balthazar’s face lit up the way it did every time he said it. Peter would never get tired of being the cause of that. ‘I love you too.’

‘Can we just stay in bed all day?’ Peter asked, tightening his grip around Balthazar, who was practically lying on top of him.

‘We could,’ Balthazar said, cupping Peter’s face and kissing his lips. The kiss drew out for so long that Peter didn’t think that there was a continuation to that sentence. ‘But at some point we’ll need food.’

‘Food’s overrated,’ Peter blurted out before even thinking about what he was saying.

Balthazar pulled his head back, frowning at Peter in concern. ‘Food’s important, Pete.’

‘Shit, sorry,’ Peter sighed, closing his eyes. He hadn’t thought about how it would come across. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It was a bad joke. Of course we should eat.’

Balthazar looked at him like he was searching for some kind of sign that Peter was lying or covering something up.

‘You’ll tell me if you stop enjoying food again, right?’ he asked, and Peter couldn’t help but smile. He looked Balthazar in the eye.

‘I promise to tell you if I ever stop enjoying food again.’

‘Good,’ Balthazar said, laying his head back down and started tracing circles on Peter’s chest. Peter kissed the top of his head, running his fingers lazily through Balthazar’s hair.

Peter’s stomach rumbled and Balthazar chuckled, looking up at Peter. ‘How about we get some breakfast?’ he asked, patting Peter’s belly.

‘Yeah, alright,’ Peter said, taking Balthazar’s hand and intertwining their fingers.

-

While Peter made scrambled eggs, Balthazar cut out the vegetables they were having on the side. They both worked more or less in silence, moving around each other when they needed to and just enjoyed that they didn’t have to do anything but be together.

Peter sometimes looked over at what Balthazar was doing; not because he wanted to make sure Balthazar did it right, just to see Balthazar’s hands at work. He felt weird to admit it to himself, but everything about Balthazar – even his hands – was attractive to Peter. He’d never say it out loud, of course, but there was something about the way Balthazar used his hands that really appealed to Peter.

‘I think these are the best eggs I’ve ever had,’ Balthazar said when they were sitting on the terrace, eating their breakfast together. They’d put up the parasol to shade them from the sun that was shining from a cloudless sky.

‘Better than Freddie’s?’ Peter asked, sipping his ice water.

‘Definitely,’ Balthazar said with a nod, smiling at Peter who pumped a fist in the air. ‘So what are we doing today?’

‘Going back to bed?’ Peter suggested. ‘There isn’t much to do here. Which was kind of the point of going.’

‘Hmm,’ Balthazar hummed and looked around at the lake and trees. ‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right.’

They sat there in silence for a moment, looking at how insects skirted around the water and how the light breeze caught the leaves of the trees every once in a while. The temperature was steadily climbing, and Peter just knew it was going to be an unbelievably hot day.

He’d come at this house a couple of times when he’d been a kid. It was before John had come to live with them so it had just been him and his parents, and if he wasn’t mistaken, his cousins had joined them one year, which was bound to have been a bit crowded. He remembered playing hide and seek in the woods and swimming in the lake with his family; only pleasant memories.

‘It’s nice here, though,’ Balthazar said, pulling Peter back to the present. He was glad to be making more pleasant memories here with Balthazar, getting to share this place with him.

‘Yeah,’ Peter said, looking at Balthazar with a fond smile on his lips. Then it faded a little when he remembered the night before. ‘And hey, I’m really sorry about last night. I don’t want you to think that you can’t tell me stuff like that without me making a big deal of it.’

Balthazar smiled at him. ‘Well, I know you have a knack for drama. But it’s fine. I should have said something sooner anyway. The argument was my fault after all. And I’m sorry I didn’t trust you more, you deserve better than that.’

‘Thanks. The truth is, I didn’t trust myself much either. But hey, no hangover today, so that’s a win!’ Peter said, raising his glass.

‘Cheers to that!’ Balthazar said and raised his glass of water himself before taking a sip.

-

They ended up back in bed when they’d finally decided to go back inside – a decision prompted mostly by insects being awfully interested in their scraps. Peter had asked whether Balthazar would prefer to dry or wash, when Balthazar had taken him by the hand and led him to the bedroom.

It was one of those situations where Peter had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t daydreaming. Being with Balthazar was everything he’d imagined and more and little things like Balthazar unexpectedly initiating sex or leaving him a sappy letter when they hadn’t seen each other in a few days or quietly making breakfast side by side made Peter fall a little bit more in love with him every day.

Not because he needed to have sex with Balthazar to know that Balthazar loved him – actually, it was probably because the sex was just an incredibly good bonus, and Peter would give it up in a heartbeat if Balthazar asked; it wasn’t important in that respect, but damn it was good.

Afterward, they lay lazily in bed, wrapped up in each other, panting and sweating, and only partly because of the blistering heat that had descended upon the lake house throughout the morning – actually, it may have been afternoon, Peter hadn’t checked his phone since the night of the day they’d arrived, going by the clock in the living room.

‘Do you know if there are fish in that lake?’ Balthazar asked out of the blue, pulling Peter from his own wandering thoughts.

‘I think so? Why?’ Peter asked, craning his neck to look at Balthazar.

‘I think I saw one eat a bug earlier but I wasn’t sure,’ Balthazar said, shrugging.

Peter huffed a laugh. ‘You are a strange person, babe.’

‘Hmm,’ Balthazar hummed uncommittedly, and Peter kissed his forehead. ‘Good thing you love me, then.’

‘Well, someone has to,’ Peter teased, and Balthazar lifted his head, propping himself up on one elbow.

‘I can’t believe how rude that was,’ Balthazar said, looking scandalised, but Peter could see the laughter in his eyes.

‘Are you going to punish me?’ Peter asked, trying desperately not to laugh. However, he cracked when Balthazar did and the two of them laughed together for a good few minutes.

-

Eventually, Balthazar announced that they should probably do those dishes, and Peter watched him get dressed and leave the bedroom. He laid there for a moment, smiling at the ceiling, and revelled a little in just how happy he was – especially compared to how miserable he’d been last year. There was no way he’d have believed anyone if they’d told him last year that he’d be lying here, Balthazar only just having left the bed.

‘You coming or what?’ Balthazar called from the kitchen, and Peter could hear the water running.

‘Yeah, I’ll be right out,’ Peter called back before he got out of bed and got dressed. He was pulling his T-shirt over his head when the sound of a ringtone that wasn’t his own started playing from Balthazar’s bedside table. ‘Balth, your phone’s ringing!’

‘Could you bring it here?’ Balthazar called, and Peter crawled over the bed and grabbed Balthazar’s ringing phone. His stomach dropped when he saw who the caller was.

Trying not to show his change in mood, he went out to the kitchen and held out the phone for Balthazar.

‘Could you?’ Balthazar asked nodding between the phone and his own hands that were currently rinsing the plates they’d used that morning.

Reluctantly, Peter answered the call and held the phone to Balthazar’s ear. He let go when Balthazar caught the phone between his head and shoulder.

‘Hello? Zeb, hey… shit, man, I completely forgot… no, I can’t, I’m… No, I’m not in Wellington yet… What? The connection’s bad, I can’t hear you.’

Peter tried subtly to take deep breaths; he knew jealousy sometimes got the best of him and he wasn’t particularly proud of it. He handed Balthazar a towel so he could dry his hands. Balthazar smiled at him in thanks.

‘I’m on a trip with Pete… Look, I promise to take a look when I get back to Wellington… Okay, bye,’ Balthazar said and hung up, putting the phone on the kitchen table.

‘So,’ Peter said, taking the towel back, ready to dry off the washing. He tried to sound as casual as possible, well knowing that Balthazar would probably see right through him. He just hoped Balthazar wouldn’t say anything. ‘What did Zeb want?’

Balthazar frowned at him, his eyes searching Peter’s face. ‘I’d promised to look at a song he’s been working on when I get back to Wellington; I thought we’d be back by now when I told him I’d do it.’

‘Is it vital that you’re the one helping him with it?’ Peter asked, leaning against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

Balthazar let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Is this how it’s going to be from now on? I can’t talk to my guy friends without you getting moody? What, am I not allowed to talk to Kit anymore either, or is that okay because he’s dating Freddie?’

It took Peter a moment to respond, being taken aback by Balthazar’s forwardness. Then he composed himself. ‘Did I say that you couldn’t talk to him?’

‘No, but you always make me feel bad about it when I do. I haven’t done anything wrong, you know,’ Balthazar said, being a little more aggressive with the dishes than he needed. ‘Like, I get it with Vegan Fred; he, like, blatantly came on to me in front of you. But Zeb hasn’t done anything that justifies this reaction of yours.’

‘No, ‘course not,’ Peter said sarcastically. ‘He only slept with you.’

Balthazar dropped what he had in his hands and turned to face Peter. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Ben told me. And I watched the video of you coming home after your birthday party. Besides, I saw you two together. You weren’t exactly subtle,’ Peter said, raising his voice as he worked himself up.

‘You have no right to judge me for something I may or may not have done before we started dating!’ Balthazar said, also raising his voice a little, though not as much as Peter.

‘I do if you’re still seeing him!’

‘He’s my friend, Pete! Don’t you trust me?!’

‘Of course I do!’ Peter’s voice was just below yelling at this point. ‘It’s him I don’t trust!’

‘Okay,’ Balthazar said, anger burning in his eyes. ‘Say he does make a move; do you not think I can turn him down? Do you really have that little faith in me?’

It felt like Peter had been punched in the gut. When he didn’t say anything, Balthazar sighed, shook his head and started walking toward the terrace. For some reason, that simple action made anger flash up in Peter again.

‘Oh, so you’re just going to run away? Great way to settle an argument, Balth!’

Balthazar stopped by the glass sliding door. ‘I need some space, okay?’ Then he opened the door, stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Peter couldn’t move. He just stood there, looking out at how Balthazar sat down in a chair and put his head in his hands. Suddenly, all Peter wanted to do was go out there and apologise, but he also knew that Balthazar probably wouldn’t be receptive of an apology just yet.

His feet started moving, and before he knew it, Peter found himself sinking to the floor by the foot of the bed where, not even half an hour ago, they’d been cuddling happily. He ran his hand through his hair and tried to figure out exactly what had happened.

It wasn’t hard, really. He’d fucked up, that’s what had happened. He’d let his jealousy get the best of him – again – and he’d acted like a possessive boyfriend.

Balthazar’s words were playing on a loop in his head; I need some space, okay? Had he meant just now or…

It felt like someone had reached into his chest and were trying to crush his heart by sheer force and were preventing his lunges from working properly in the process. He leaned his head back against the bed and tried to make the feeling go away.

For a moment anger flared up in him again; how dared Balthazar make him feel like this? But as soon as he’d thought it, he deflated, knowing that Balthazar had had a point.

-

He didn’t know just how long he’d sat there, but at some point he finally wiped away the couple of tears he’d let escape, let out a deep sigh and got up. He needed to see if he could fix this.

Balthazar had moved from the chair to sit cross-legged by the edge of the terrace, looking out at the lake. He was picking at something – most likely one of the straws of the long grass that grew through the planks of the terrace – and it looked like he was waiting. Peter didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried. Either way, Balthazar knew him well enough to know that Peter would eventually come out to talk to him.

He didn’t move when Peter opened and closed the sliding door, just kept picking at the straw in his hands. Peter tried to brace himself for the possibility of their trip ending in a very different way from what he’d imagined as he walked up to Balthazar.

‘Can I join you?’ he asked when he was just a step behind where Balthazar was sitting. Balthazar shrugged, and Peter sat down beside him. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know you are,’ Balthazar replied quietly. He looked down at what his hands were doing, and Peter followed his gaze before looking out at the lake himself.

‘Of course I trust that you can turn someone down if they come on to you. And I know you will,’ Peter said. He had started cracking his knuckles, and Balthazar’s hand made him stop when it came to rest on Peter’s.

‘Looks like we both need to get better at remembering that we trust each other,’ Balthazar said with a soft smile when Peter looked at him.

‘I’m going to work on the jealousy, I promise,’ Peter said, looking into Balthazar’s eyes.

‘Thank you. And I promise to remember to trust that you can take care of yourself,’ Balthazar said and caressed the back of Peter’s hand with his thumb. Then he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against Peter’s lips.

‘So we’re okay?’ Peter asked, their faces still close and Peter’s hand on Balthazar’s cheek. He needed verbal confirmation.

‘We’re okay,’ Balthazar said, leaning his forehead against Peter’s for a moment before pulling away and intertwining their fingers.

Peter let out a sigh of relief. ‘Good, because this would have been an awful place to break up in; so far from everything.’

‘Break up?’ Balthazar asked as if it was the most ridiculous thing Peter could’ve possibly said. ‘You thought I was going to break up with you over that one argument?’

‘Well, that and the one last night.’

Balthazar shook his head at Peter with a fond smile on his face. ‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Donaldson.’

‘Is that a promise?’ Peter asked, his stomach fluttering at the look in Balthazar’s eyes.

‘Absolutely,’ Balthazar said and kissed him again.

-

Peter woke up to find that he was alone in the bed. It was still dark outside so he frowned and squinted at the brightness as he checked the time on his phone. 2:36am.

‘Babe?’ he asked, rubbing his eye. There was no reply so he sat up, fumbling for a moment as he found and pulled on his underwear. Light was streaming through the gap under the door, and he squinted, letting his eyes adjust to the change of lighting as he left the bedroom.

There was shuffling and the sound of a teaspoon clinking against the side of a mug coming from the kitchen. Peter leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching Balthazar sit at the table with his back to him. He’d put on a T-shirt, although it was so hot, Peter couldn’t understand how he could stand wearing clothes at all.

‘What are you doing up?’ he asked softly, but Balthazar still gave a start when he spoke, and turned around to look at Peter.

‘Couldn’t sleep so I made cocoa. There’s more in the pot if you want some,’ Balthazar said, holding up his mug with a weak smile.

‘It’s, like, a million degrees; how can you drink cocoa?’ Peter asked, but poured himself a cup before he sat down at the table across from Balthazar. He knew what it meant, though; Balthazar only made cocoa for one of two reasons: either he was trying to get into the Christmas spirit, or he was feeling down about something. Peter wasn’t banking on the former.

They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other. Peter couldn’t help but smile, and Balthazar seemed to have the same problem, pressing his lips together and turning his eyes down to his cocoa. Peter was so full of love for this beautiful boy sitting in front of him.

Balthazar’s smile faltered as he took a sip of his cocoa, not looking up.

‘So what’s keeping you up?’ Peter eventually asked, sipping his own cocoa but keeping his eyes on his boyfriend.

Balthazar shrugged, fiddling with his mug. ‘Just thinking.’

‘Anything you’d like to share?’ Peter asked, trying to catch Balthazar’s eye but having no such luck.

Balthazar shrugged again, and seemed to curl in on himself, pulling his knees up to his chin, the way he did when he was uncomfortable.

‘Balth, please don’t do this,’ Peter pleaded.

‘Do what?’ Balthazar asked, keeping his eyes on his mug.

‘Shut me out like that. You can talk to me; you can tell me anything,’ Peter said, reaching across the table and taking Balthazar’s hand.

Balthazar looked at their joined hands as Peter interlinked their fingers, caressing his hand with his thumb. When he looked up at Peter, there was insecurity in his eyes that made something in Peter stir nervously.

‘I guess I’m scared,’ Balthazar whispered after a few minutes. Peter frowned in confusion so he continued. ‘Like, I spent all this time being in love with you and imagining how we would get together, but I never actually thought about how we’d make an actual relationship work. I had a lot of time to think about how much I wanted to kiss you and tell you how much I love you, but… I don’t know, I guess I was reminded these past few days that we actually have to make an effort to make it work and, like, stay in a relationship.’

‘So, what, you don’t think we can make it?’ Peter asked, a little scared of where this conversation was going.

‘No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying that I thought of it more like a fairytale, yeah? Like, we’d tell each other that we love each other, kiss, and live happily ever after. I’d built up that one moment in my mind so much that I hadn’t given a thought as to what issues we might have to deal with,’ Balthazar said, squeezing Peter’s hand. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to work on those issues. It just means I need to understand that just because I’m with you, it doesn’t mean that it won’t be hard sometimes.’

‘I am going to be better, you know,’ Peter said, looking Balthazar in the eyes, ‘about the jealousy.’

‘I know,’ Balthazar said, smiling at him. ‘And I know you can’t just flip a switch and decide not to be jealous. I know it’s going to take some time. I just don’t want to worry every time I’m talking to a guy, that you’re going to be moody afterwards or rude to him.’

Peter looked down at their hands. ‘I guess I just think it’s too good to be true.’

‘Yeah, me too.’

‘I’m just so afraid you’re going to wake up one day and realize that I’m not good enough for you, and then you’ll just move on with someone else and leave me behind,’ Peter admitted.

Balthazar got up and went around the table to Peter, not letting go of his hand, and sat down in his lap, one arm draped over Peter’s shoulders.

‘That’s not going to happen, okay? I love you too much to do that to you,’ Balthazar said, his fingers running through Peter’s hair. Peter wrapped an arm around Balthazar’s waist.

‘I love you too,’ he said, smiling into the kiss that Balthazar was leaning down for. ‘Can we go back to bed now? It’s almost 3 in the morning.’

Balthazar chuckled. ‘Yeah, we can go to bed.’

They got up and walked to the bedroom where Balthazar stripped himself of his shirt and got into bed, snuggling up to Peter who put his arms around him. Almost a full minute passed where Peter felt himself get sweaty wherever he and Balthazar were touching.

‘Nope, sorry, I can’t do this,’ Balthazar then said, scooting away from Peter. ‘Sorry, but it’s too hot for cuddling.’

He moved away but took Peter’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

‘Yeah, that’s better,’ he said sleepily.

Peter smiled to himself and squeezed Balthazar’s hand before he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

-

A part of Peter didn’t want to leave the holiday home but they had to get back to Wellington and return to their everyday lives. Something had changed between them, though – for the better, Peter was sure. It wasn’t a massive change, and other people might not be able to pick up on it, but Peter could feel it and he was sure Balthazar could too.

They had both been reminded that this wasn’t some high school fling and willing it to work just wouldn’t do. This was – at least for Peter and he was fairly certain Balthazar felt the same – something that would hopefully last a very long time, something they had to actively work at to maintain.

The summer they’d spent in Auckland straight after beginning to date had made it feel a little like they’d been back in high school, what with families intruding and jobs taking up all of their time. They’d barely had time to figure out how to be a couple on their own before they’d gone home for Christmas, despite long talks and making out while everyone else were distracted by a pillow fight.

That morning, they’d spent mostly talking; about how much PDA each of them were comfortable with, about why Peter had refused to sing with Balthazar, and about how they were going to handle sore subjects if and when they were brought up. Some of it they’d talked about before Christmas, but after the reminder that they had to remember that they trusted each other, new thoughts and fears were laid out into the open.

These past few days had been so much more than the getaway that Peter had intended it to be. And in hindsight, they’d needed it more than he’d initially thought.

‘It’s kind of sad to leave it,’ Balthazar said when they’d packed up the car and were locking up. They were standing, hand in hand, outside the front door and Peter was turning the key when he said it.

‘I guess. We can always come back next year,’ Peter said, pulling Balthazar closer. ‘Make it a tradition.’

‘I’d like that,’ Balthazar said and kissed Peter, squeezing his hand.

They got in the car and gave the house one last look before Peter turned the car around and drove away.