graveyard of buried hopes

“Dear old world', she murmured, 'you are very lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.”

[blxxmingrose]

[harvestjune]

june lingered a step behind as hans and sunny walked ahead, her small hand swinging between theirs. the morning light made everything feel gentler — the quiet streets, the soft scuff of their shoes, the way sunny’s coat flared when she skipped. june had spent enough mornings like this to know it never stopped making his chest ache.

he adjusted the strap of his bag and watched hans from behind, seeing his posture and the way he tilted his head slightly toward sunny whenever she spoke. it wasn’t showy, tender in a way that always caught june off guard no matter how often he’d seen it. he’d never really understood what home could look like until it looked like this.

when hans had smiled at him, june had felt something settle deep within his chest.

he caught up, falling into step beside them, his hand brushing against hans’s as they walked. “she’s going to have the best day,” june murmured, more to himself and hans than to anyone else. sunny turned back with a grin and he gave her a smile on return.

whatever eyes followed them didn’t matter. this was their happiness.

[blxxmingrose]

“and we will too,” hans replied, taking in details to file away in his memories. he knew without a doubt that they could have fun just the three of them, if their fishing trip was any indication, and this day wouldn’t be any different. after all, it’s the company that made any activity worthwhile. 

the bus arrived a few minutes later, beckoning eager children to slowly fill the spaces, the chatter swelling into a chorus of excitement. hans had an inkling that the mornings in other households felt just like theirs—the usual excitement of a school day dialed up a few notches. it would be the first of many school trips for these children, and it reminded hans of how much he enjoyed them as he grew up too. 

there was always something unexpectedly memorable that happened on school trips. thinking about it made his own heart beat with excitement as he followed sunny—hand still holding on to his—onto the bus, his free hand motioning for june to follow. sunny stopped at the aisle, letting her surroundings wait with baited breath while she decided calmly on where to sit. a few small hands waived her over until she made small, purposeful steps to the third row, where she could see everything clearly from the window. hans took the seat on the first row, the one reserved for chaperones, feeling every bit like the small version of himself on his school trip. 

he could already hear the crinkling of wrappers, snacks being opened even before the trip has officially started. it only made him chuckle, and though he wanted to crane his neck to see what his daughter was doing, he wanted to let her have her own fun with her friends. 

so he waited. with his hands folded in his lap, watching the digital clock on the bus as minutes passed, until the seat beside him was occupied at last.

“so, did you have any favorite field trips growing up?” he asked curiously, his body shifting slightly so he could face june in the cramped space. “i remember reading the itinerary over and over the night before, until i’d fall asleep and almost miss the bus.” even as he recalled it now, he couldn’t help but grin sheepishly. 

[harvestjune]

june read the messages from hans one last time before setting his phone facedown on the nightstand. the blue light still clung to the edges of his vision. he knew he should’ve put it down sooner, that there was no reason for his chest to feel as tight as it did, no reason for the small ache that always followed hans’ name lighting up his screen.

lucia had long since fallen asleep beside him, turned toward the wall with her arm curled beneath her pillow. her quiet breathing filled the silence, the steady kind of rhythm that used to help him sleep. but tonight, it only made the quiet night feel louder.

he ran a hand through his hair and exhaled softly, his body sinking deeper into the mattress. it wasn’t like hans had said anything out of the ordinary. it was that gentleness im the way hans always seemed to wrap distance up in softness. that made june’s heart ache most.

he turned onto his side, staring at the faint outline of the curtains against the dim glow from outside.

he swallowed, jaw tightening. he didn’t want to read too deeply into anything. they were… fine. they were rebuilding something that wasn’t quite friendship, not quite anything else either.

and still, his chest hurt.

he reached out and turned off the lamp, letting the room fall completely dark. his hand found the edge of the blanket, pulling it up over his shoulder as he tried to quiet his mind. but the warmth didn’t quite reach the cold that lingered somewhere deep under his ribs, the same place hans’ voice used to reach when he’d laugh, when he’d whisper something against the back of june’s neck, when everything between them had felt simple and sure.

don’t go there, he told himself, eyes closing tightly.

[blxxmingrose]

hans felt like he was sleeping on a bed of rocks. there was little comfort in the darkness, no familiar ease as his body sunk into the giant mass that used to be soft as a cloud. he curled up on his side, wanting to occupy more space but somehow making himself feel smaller, the bed emptier. 

he hated this feeling. it was something he knew he couldn’t really escape, but if anyone out there offered him a miracle cure for the loneliness that lingered in his bones, he would probably believe them and pay the price, no matter how steep. all to stop the feeling—all to stop thinking. 

he willed himself to take a deep breath, steadying himself and letting the thoughts out with each exhale. there’s a conscious effort to remember the present, to let the feelings run through him until he was empty. until he could breathe easy again. 

it felt like hours had passed before he felt his muscles relax, until the bed was just a regular bed again, warm, soft, and not out to crush him. hans closed his eyes then, letting his mind slowly drift away and hoping that there would be peace in his dreams. 

when he opened his eyes to the first rays of sunlight filtering in, he sighed thankfully. it was as though his brain had taken pity on him, giving him a dreamless sleep after the day he’s had. after the thoughts and feelings he couldn’t help but conjure to the surface. most of it was his own doing—june did not insinuate anything in anyway—and that made it harder. because he had no one else to blame but himself.

for every step forward, no one was pulling him two steps back besides himself. 

“don’t go there,” he whispered to himself, patting his cheeks to shake the last remnants of sleep. one day after another, hans. you can do this.

his body felt like an empty vessel following his order to get up, his chest felt like a hollow cavity where his heart used to live, but he’s moving. standing up. walking. and, in front of his parents, smiling. 

he murmured “thanks” as his mother poured him a cup of coffee, his brain foggy but warming up like an oven that had just been turned on. 

some days were harder than others, and today seemed to be one of the more challenging ones. but he managed to get out of bed, and on those days, that was enough of a victory. 

[harvestjune]

june stared down at his phone long after hans’ last message appeared, thumb idly swiping over the screen. the words kept circling in his head. hans always had that tone when he was holding himself back.

lucia had laid beside him by then, her soft breathing filling the darkened room. june laid still, listening to it, to the faint hum of the city outside, to everything that wasn’t his own heartbeat quickening for reasons he didn’t want to acknowledge. it was stupid, really — the way a few words over text could send something small and aching fluttering in his chest. familiar face. as if that’s all they were now.

he typed and erased half a dozen drafts. everything he wrote either said too much or not enough. hans had always been easy to talk to, but this… this was harder.

june: you’ve always been better behind the counter

june: that’s where you look happiest. it’s kind of… your place. i guess.

he stared at the message a while before adding another.

june: but people like seeing who makes the things they love. i think they’d like you too.

it was too soft, maybe. too much like he was trying to make hans believe something he already did. but there was truth in it. june remembered mornings back when hans didn’t know anyone was watching, the way he leaned over the dough, the focused line of his brow, the little smirk that showed up when something turned out just right. those were the images that stuck, and he hated himself for how clearly he still remembered them.

he exhaled through his nose before he sent one more message.

june: free pastries sound dangerous. but i’ll take the risk.

after that, he locked his phone and turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. his mind wouldn’t settle.

he thought of hans’ pink-tinted cheeks, the way his messages always felt so careful. the way they used to talk about things that weren’t filled with so much tension. he wondered what it would be like a year from now to walk through the fair again and see hans behind a stall of his own. would it still feel like this? would it still hurt?

maybe it would. maybe it always would.

but even with that ache sitting in his chest, june realized something: that he’d meant every word. he wanted hans to smile again. even if it wasn’t for him.

[blxxmingrose]

the night crept up on hans, as if the darkness appeared in a blink. his mind had been preoccupied, thinking, planning, hoping. it was his fatal flaw, to think too much of things far into the future. perhaps that’s why it hurt to see plans fall apart after hundreds of hours have been spent talking about the minute details, finetuning every little thing, feeling certain that they would happen just as they were supposed to.  

it’s the certainty that was hard to accept at first, but once hans felt sure of something, he gave it everything he had. and when things unravelled, it took everything he had with it, too. that kind of certainty was hard to come by, but it still slipped between his fingers. he didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

so, cautiously, he willed his heart to put next year’s plans on pause, to take the words he read in june’s replies as reassurance in the moment—but not promises for the future. there was no certainty that he would really be there, seeing hans behind his pastries. it was a nice idea, and nothing more than that. 

hans: okay, risk taker.  hans: i guess we’ll see how that works out when it’s time hans: i have a year to practice. so i don’t make a fool of myself out there

he didn’t say that all that really mattered was that he didn’t make a fool of himself in front of june. that felt too… special? too centered on a man who wasn’t his. but rereading his messages gave them a distant tone, and hans didn’t want that either. would it always be a game of trying to balance between overly familiar and guarded?

he exhaled slowly, letting his fingers type the words just as carefully. it was getting late, and he felt weary. his eyes felt heavy, but his heart felt heavier. he could lie and say he didn’t know why he felt that way, but what would be the point? perhaps every time he saw june, there would be a heaviness like this. a kind of grief that would never really go away. a reminder that once upon a time, those words coming from june were his anchor. words that could calm him down when he was worried about something needlessly. 

somewhere inside him, those words still carried weight. something he wanted to believe. after all, they came from a man who knew what made him smile—who saw him unguarded, when he wasn’t even aware of it. it will never be easy accepting them from the same man who stole those smiles, yet he wanted to. the war within himself felt the heaviest, even though he had no one else to blame but himself. 

with a sigh, he tried to shed some of the heaviness as he stood up, typing up a few more messages without reading the previous ones. 

hans: thank you for the encouragement, june. i appreciate it, truly.  hans: you don’t have to wait until next year for free pastries, you know.  hans: have a good night. 

as soon as he sent them, he headed up the stairs to end the day, promising himself that tomorrow would be better. 

[harvestjune]

june trailed after them into the kitchen. the sight alone of sunny, jumping excitedly while hans opened up the snack drawer made his chest ache. this was what his mornings had become: not quiet solitude like he was used to, but giggles bouncing between walls. he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

he watched sunny take the picks seriously, her small hands hovering thoughtfully over the choices before she picks over the snacks with the same conviction.

“only the essentials.”june told her, stepping closer to help her organize them. her backpack sat beside them on the counter while he carefully tucked things into the front pocket so nothing would crush the others. “you know, commander peachy’s counting on you to make a full report when you get back,” june reminded her, fastening the zipper with a click. “so that means you have to remember everything. what snacks you ate first, who you sat with on the bus, and what your favorite part was. think you can handle that?”

sunny’s eyes lit up. “i can!” she said, nodding proudly, her energy bubbling over. “i knew you could,” he muttered, brushing her hair back before rising again. his gaze shifted to hans with nothing fondness in his expression.

the simple rhythm of it all — the snacks, the shoes, jackets and tiny negotiations — made him feel rooted in a way he hadn’t known he been wanted.

june said reached for another one of the juice boxes and slipping it into sunny’s bag. “i think the day is officially ready to begin.” sunny squealed her agreement, already trying to wriggle her way into her coat. june helped zip it up, tugging the collar straight and fixing her hood where it had folded in on itself. “there.” he said, stepping back to admire her. and she looked up at him, beaming so brightly that it was almost unfair, as held out her hand. “you and papa are coming too.”

[blxxmingrose]

as june helped arrange the snacks sunny had carefully picked out, hans worked on another bag, tucking in a few snacks for himself and for june, too. their rhythm almost felt too perfect, as if it had taken years of practice to coax a child into focusing on her field trip instead of sneaking in a plushie with her. they weren’t in sync because it was easy, though, hans thought. they were simply aware of each other, of what each other needed, and how they could help. that's what made it seem easy.

there were some things that didn’t have to be asked, because they were already willing to help. and when sunny was finished fixing her coat with june’s help, her hand outstretched to june, hans was already beside her, the bag he had prepared loaded and ready to go too. he had a beam that matched hers as they headed out hand in hand. 

his eyes met june’s briefly, the fondness mirrored in each other’s eyes. they were not leaving their home for the day. home was with them. home was each other, evident in how they needed nothing else but just these hands intertwined. 

“now, remember,” hans spoke as he tugged on sunny’s hand lightly to get her attention, their steps continuing slowly. “there will be lots of other kids, but we will be there too, okay? if you need anything, you can tell us.” she nodded eagerly, the kind of nod that came with the assurance of knowing they’d always be there for her. but hans wanted her to remember it anyway. “and we have to follow what all the teachers say,” he added. 

“all teachers!” she chimed, her energy peaking in a way only children were able to muster. hans chuckled, knowing it would be a long day. but with all the work he had to do by himself in the flower shop, this was a welcome change. a rare moment he gets to be a part of sunny’s day at school—and june’s too—and there was no question which one hans would choose. his excitement might be more guarded, but it was there in his step, light and full of purpose. 

a few parents and children were already waiting when they arrived, and hans took a half-step closer to sunny and june, keeping his head up as he saw a few eyes look at june beside them. he didn’t break his smile, nodding politely at them as they passed. they might have questions, but one thing for certain is that hans was not hiding any of this. after their talk last night, after everything had been laid out in the open, hans saw no reason to pretend he was simply a parent and june was simply a teacher. 

he glanced at june once more, giving him a warm smile. a smile that conveyed a lot: let them stare. let them see how much our family loves each other. 

[harvestjune]

june laid back against the headboard, his phone balanced loosely in one hand as hans’ messages lit up the screen. he read them once through quickly, then again slower. adventurous combinations. he could almost hear hans’ voice in the phrasing, colored by the quiet humor he carried. it made june’s mouth tug into a smile, though it fell just as quickly as the second set of messages came in.

june exhaled, a slow sound in the empty room. his thumb hovered over the screen without moving, and for a moment he thought about ignoring it, letting the words sit in silence until morning. it would have been easier. but easier wasn’t honest.

hans never deserved dishonesty from him.

his chest felt tight as he thought back on the fair itself — the press of the crowd, lucia’s laughter, the displays of pastries arranged like works of art. he had wandered too, in his own way. he hadn’t been there for wedding business even if lucia had suggested it. no, he had lingered too long at the edges of stalls, had let his gaze drift to places it shouldn’t, until it landed on hans.

june rolled onto his side, staring at the faint moonlight spilling across the floor. his quads struck deeper than he wished they would. it wasn’t just about the fair. it was about roots, direction, about wanting something solid enough to stand on. and june, for all the life he had been carefully piecing together, wasn’t sure he had any of those things to offer hans anymore.

still, his fingers began to move.

june: maybe that’d be good for you

june: you’d fit right in there.

june: i think people would stop at your stall just to see you smile, never mind the pastries

he stopped, blinked, reread the line three times before hitting send. it was more honest than he wanted it to be, but the truth had a way of slipping out when it came to hans.

his thumb tapping lightly against the side of the phone. he wanted to say more, to confess that seeing hans today had unsettled him, had made the world tilt slightly on its axis in ways that didn’t feel entirely fair. but instead, he sent one last message:

june: if you do join next year… maybe i’ll stop by your stall. just to see what you come up with.

[blxxmingrose]

hans did not expect much. a polite answer at best. he was prepared to receive no reply at all, knowing how demanding the day had been—how his neck ached in protest just to prove a point. he certainly did not expect the kind of replies he got, the honesty behind those words, ones that he didn’t feel like he deserved. 

a traitorous blush warmed his cheeks, and he willed everything in himself to not make something out of nothing. the words were nice—they were supposed to be just that. it took him several attempts to type a reply, his fingers hovering over the screen, tracing the smoothness of the edges, anything to keep him grounded. 

when he finally found the words, he managed to string them along into something solid, if only a little hollow. 

hans: with how bright it was out there earlier, i don’t think they’ll be seeing any smiles hans: … or giving ones in return hans: kind of reminds me why i like to stay in the kitchen, not the counter selling pastries…

right. that’s good enough. talking about pastries was always a good direction. one could hardly misinterpret pastry talk. smiles were dangerous, hans reminded himself, even though he knew he was losing. the damage had been done. and thinking of that little visit a year from now wound him up into a ball of nervousness, excitement, and everything in between. 

hans: that would be nice if you could come though.  hans: a familiar face would be less nerve-wracking.  hans: you’ll get free pastries, of course. always. 

'familiar' wasn’t the word hans wanted to use, but ‘friendly’ felt odd. it didn’t feel like he was talking about june specifically. it felt like a word he would use for many others whose presence didn’t affect him this much, but it would have to do. june was a familiar face. hans just hoped that was still true in another year. 

[harvestjune]

june leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching the scene unfold. there was something about mornings like this — hans’ voice still soft from sleep, sunny caught up in her own little secret mission — that made everything feel so right.

his eyes fell on the sight of the backpack bulging awkwardly with peachy shoved halfway inside, the plushie’s ears sticking out like it was just as eager to join them on the field trip. june’s lips twitched, caught between amusement and a ( failed ) attempt at seriousness. “smuggling contraband before breakfast.” he murmured, shaking his head slowly.

The young girl looked up at him with the same wide-eyed innocence she always wore whenever she was testing the rules. june arched a brow at her, stepping closer, his tone low. “peachy doesn’t have a permission slip, you know. i didn’t see their name on the list.”

that earned him a giggle, her shoulders hunching as if she was trying to make the plushie disappear into the bag quicker. but june crouched down beside her, resting his forearms on his knees. “the thing is,” he continued, pretending to weigh the matter carefully, “today’s for your classmates. and peachy… peachy might get lost on the bus, or fall out during the hike, or even get apple juice stains from snack time. i don’t think peachy’s ready for all that.”

sunny’s grin faltered just a little, her hands clutching the straps of her backpack. june softened, reaching to brush a strand of hair from her face. “peachy can be in charge of guarding your room while you’re gone instead. someone’s got to make sure all your toys behave until you get back, right?” her pout lingered on her expression as he watched her turn back to glance at the bed where peachy usually sat.

[blxxmingrose]

hans stepped back, watching as june talked to sunny in that patient tone, always making sure she understood what he was trying to say. he never rushed, never tried to tell her she was wrong—and hans loved him for it. oh, how he really did. these moments always tugged at his hearstrings in the best way. it made him appreciate how he had a daughter and a partner who were filled with kindness and understanding. 

as sunny weighed her options, hans rested a hand on her shoulder, slowly easing peachy out of her bag. not to take the toy away, but just to straighten its body from being squished inside the bag haphazardly.

sunny didn’t protest, june’s earlier words already starting to make sense, and when she reached for the plushie, there was no indecision in her eyes. she patted her favorite toy and crushed it with a tight hug before placing it where it always sat. “you’re in charge while i’m away,” she whispered, ever filled with her regal air. 

pride swelled in hans’ chest, and he couldn’t help but throw a quick smile in june’s direction. they were a team built on the most important principle: love. hans knew that whatever lesson they wanted to teach sunny, they would always do it with the same patience and understanding, that they would always make sure she knew she’s loved. “peachy looks all commanding in her post,” hans whispered before picking sunny up. “now, you have something to do, missy. we have to fill this bag with snacks!” 

her face lit up as hans carried her out of her room and into the kitchen, making a beeline for the snack drawer as she recited the snacks she wanted. it felt like a regular morning, and in many ways it was, but in others it wasn’t. they were preparing for the day like they always did, but hans saw every small movement, felt every soothing word, as a whispered promise that they would go through every day together.

that some mornings would be more eventful than others, but they were their mornings nonetheless. just the thought of it kept the smile on his face, like a permanent fixture that no one could erase. 

perhaps that was spoken too soon—considering the day they would have—but right now, in this moment, it was hans’ truth. 

[harvestjune]

june almost groaned when hans began to move, his arms loosening from around him. he wasn’t ready to surrender his minutes just yet, not when they’d been promised. not when he’d barely gotten the chance to commit every small detail of hans’ face in this morning light to memory.

his hand lingered at hans’ side, fingers curling just enough to keep him tethered for another heartbeat. “didn’t sound like five minutes,” june muttered, his voice still rough from sleep. “felt more like two.”

the protest was gentle, softened by the way his thumb brushed lazily against hans’ skin. but the sound from the other room wasn’t something they could just ignore and they both knew it. sunny had a way of making her presence known. maybe she was stretching, maybe she had dropped a toy from her bed, but it was their call to answer all the same.

he sighed quietly, though the corners of his mouth curved upward. “she probably woke up just to keep us honest.” still, june leaned in, pressing one last kiss to hans’ cheek, slow and unhurried as though he could stretch the time out a little longer. “we’ll get our time back,” he promised, his lips brushing against hans’ skin as he spoke.

his body finally shifted, rolling reluctantly toward the edge of the bed, though his hand never left hans’ until it had to. the warmth between them lingered even as the space opened. june cast one last glance at hans, his expression caught somewhere between a playful complaint and devotion.

[blxxmingrose]

hans chuckled as june protested, and he couldn’t help but tease, “you sound just like sunny when you say that. it was not two minutes.” still, there was overflowing affection in his tone, and in his eyes as he watched his partner move, blinking the remainder of their time in bed as slowly as he could stretch it. 

the little sun they both revolved around was in the opposite room, doing what she did best, beckoning them to her presence. hans paused by the door, reaching out for june’s hand before he made another step forward. what they had talked about last night, the permanence they want in their lives, it all felt real between them as their hands touched.

the air felt warm around them as they stepped into the hallway, as if it knew there was a significant shift—something that was already there, only made more solid. it had always been there for them to feel, but this time it would be for everyone to see too. 

“you ready for today?” he asked under his breath, giving june’s hand a gentle squeeze. “i think it’ll be fun. probably tiring, but i’m kind of excited.” and he meant it—it would be their first school trip together as a family. the first of many.

sunny’s room was open halfway, and as they stepped inside, he saw the source of the sound immediately. she was busy with her backpack, hair still tousled from sleep but already trying to wrestle her plushie into it. “hey, are you trying to sneak peachy into the school trip, little lady?” hans asked with a shake of his head, his words spoken in disbelief.

he ruffled her hair as she giggled, caught in the act but not retreating, even being so bold as to grin up at them. hans sighed dramatically, turning to june, “are we going to allow this?” 

[harvestjune]

the walk back with lucia was quiet except for the rustle of paper bags and the occasional comment she made about the sweets they’d picked up. june answered where he could but most of his focus was on keeping pace beside her. when they reached the front door, she thanked him for coming along and said something about saving a cupcake for him later before disappearing inside.

june lingered on the porch a little while longer. the night air was cooler here. he could still picture the stalls lined up, the way the crowd moved, and most of all, the glances between him and hans. then the wave. the small shift in his chest afterward that he tried, and failed, to write off as nothing.

he slipped into his bedroom after, the quiet fully sinking in. he sat at the edge of the bed with the window slightly cracked open, the scent of sugar and fried dough still clinging to his clothes.

when his phone buzzed, he could only stare at the screen, thumb hovering above it without moving. he read hans’ words once. twice. a third time. the simplicity of it unsettled him in a way he didn’t expect. it felt… normal. easy.

he leaned back against the headboard finally tapping out his response.

june: yeah. lucia wanted to go.

he paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek before typing again.

june: the cakes were nice though.

june: saw a few i might’ve picked if i was braver

he let the message sit there, cursor blinking at the edge of the screen. a breath left him in a slow exhale.

phone still in hand, june stared out the window at the sliver of moonlight stretching across the street. he didn’t know what he was supposed to feel. all he knew was that the wave had been real, and now there were words between them once again.

[blxxmingrose]

hans could hear his parents talking in the kitchen, his mother generously recalling her favorite parts of the fair to her husband. it was a gesture that made hans’ chest ache. the fact that she had to make sure he didn’t miss anything even if he wasn’t there, a small act that made their marriage more solid as the years went by. something that hans wanted for himself too, even if right now he was reading messages from someone who could have been that for him, but wasn't. 

as he read the words, something about the word ‘brave’ stuck to him. he took a minute to collect his thoughts into words, his fingers translating in measured keystrokes. 

hans: there were definitely some combinations that were more… adventurous hans: the chocolate chip croissant was definitely one of them

that wasn’t what he meant with his question though. he meant to ask about something for their wedding, something that would have probably prompted lucia to go to the baker’s fair in the first place. but then again, not everything had to be about their wedding, right? 

hans had no problems talking about june’s wedding, but sometimes, he wondered if june didn’t want to talk about it. about an event in the future that would set everything in stone. a magical date that should be happy, that should celebrate them—but not for hans. perhaps june was doing him a kindness by not launching into wedding talk. 

for a moment, he allowed his mind to wander back to the fair. how even after all these years he was still aware of where june was in a crowd, how there had been tension in the pretense of not seeing him, how every fiber in his body tensed up in protest. how hans was wandering aimlessly, while june already had his person. it felt like everything he had been doing was wandering.

and then he remembered—his business card. the one his mother gave away too eagerly. 

hans shifted in his seat, excitement coursing through him at the possibility of something shifting next year. he had a business card to give away because, well, he had something. he wasn't always just wandering. he had been building a business on his own.

hans: i think i want to be a part of it next year. the baker’s fair.  hans: it would be nice to not wander this time. 

was it an invitation? perhaps. hans didn’t know where june would be next year, and he wasn’t going to ask, but deep down he knew he would want nothing more than to see him there. 

[harvestjune]

june stood with his arms loosely crossed, pretending to admire the lemon drizzle cake in front of him. the vendor was already busy packing up boxes, stacking trays, and he doubted anyone would notice how long he’d been standing there without really looking at anything. his attention was elsewhere, and it wasn’t subtle. the way his gaze kept drifting, like a compass pulled by a magnet no matter how much he tried to hold it steady.

he caught sight of hans again through the fading crowd, his mother close at his side, and for the first time all day june couldn’t force his eyes back away

maybe it was the thinning of the fair crowd, the way the air felt softer now that the rush of voices had dimmed. maybe it was the fact that he was tired of pretending he hadn’t noticed him. whatever it was, june took the moment breathe. his chest tightened as he drew in a slow breath before finally lifting his hand towards him.

the wave was small, almost hesitant in a way. the kind of motion that could be mistaken for brushing something from his hair if hans didn’t want to return it.

for an instant, the world around him blurred. the stalls, the pastries, the distant chatter, it all receded into the background. there was only the stretch of space between them, and june breaking his own silence with a simple gesture.

[blxxmingrose]

it was like a spark from two wires crossing paths. that’s what hans felt when june waved, a small, noncommital gesture that hans could have easily imagined because he was hoping for it. a smile quickly bloomed on his face in return, one that showed relief more than anything else. they were okay. they weren’t going to completely ignore each other when they chanced upon each other on the street. 

they weren’t just friends who could only exchange text messages in secret. 

hans returned the wave with a little nod, but it made all the difference in his gait. there was a spring in his steps, the headache he felt coming somehow receded—or at least deemed unimportant enough to forget for the time being—and the fair was reaching a successful close. 

he didn’t even know how much he ate, but one thing’s for sure: he remembered them tasting very sweet. he even wondered how he could participate in the fair next year. be in a stall of his own instead of roaming around. that could be fun. 

and maybe, just maybe, june would drop by and visit. the dream was slowly forming into something that ached in his chest, something that felt warm. something that felt alive. he had to rein it in, remembering where the lines were drawn and that he should focus on going home now, his mother’s arm still looped around his. like nothing was happening, like there were no thoughts racing in his head about june. about the day in general. about where they might be a year later.

his phone was in his hands as soon as they were free, and as he plopped down on the couch, the words quickly flowed from his fingertips. 

hans: i didn’t know you were going to the baker’s fair too!  hans: did you see anything you like? 

as he read the words, he felt settled. like he could breathe again. like everything was in their rightful place once more, because not talking to june felt like a crutch, but talking to him now felt like an anchor.

[harvestjune]

june’s first instinct was to bury his face deeper into the crook of hans’ neck, stubborn against the intrusion of the alarm. his body ached for the comfort of a few more minutes like this, the smell of sleep and warm skin and home clinging to him. he hummed low in his throat, in half protest and half indulgence, before finally letting one eye crack open toward the window.

the day had barely begun, and already it was pulling them away from the softness of the night before. june wasn’t ready to give it up. not yet.

his arm tightened around hans’ waist, keeping him close, his lips brushing the line of hans’ shoulder before. “five minutes isn’t enough,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with sleep.

he lingered in the time they had left, memorizing the rhythm of hans’ breathing, the faint weight of his hair against his forehead. school trips, schedules, mornings, they could all wait. right now, all june wanted was the reassurance that they had stolen one more moment together.

he pressed a kiss to hans’ temple, slow and deliberate. “sunny would forgive us if we’re late. she likes the attention anyway.” a teasing edge softened his words, but beneath it was a truth. sunny was always brighter with the both of them around. and june would follow them anywhere, even if it meant dragging himself out of this bed before dawn.

still, he let his hand slide against hans’ chest, holding him steady as if anchoring him there for just a little bit longer. “five more minutes.” june echoed again, quieter now.

[blxxmingrose]

hans hummed in agreement. five minutes certainly weren’t enough, not when he felt like he was wrapped up in a cocoon of warm hands and home. time did not matter, and time wasn’t important. this was important.

the simplest gestures, the lightest touches, all of them coaxed the morning to unfold, but not enough to take them out of bed just yet. just enough to be slightly awake, leaning in to each other’s touch, hans’ hands pulling june closer. “you smell like home,” he murmured. and then, adding with a slight chuckle: “the five minutes hasn’t started yet, right?” 

he could already imagine sunny slowly waking in the next room, but just like them, she’d need time to grasp the day ahead too. “this is the only time of day i have you all to myself,” he mused, knowing that as soon as they were all out of bed, sunny would be requiring both of their attentions. hans loved how she glowed under their guidance, and he knew both of them would always put her in front of anything else. but this, this was precious too.

“i bet she’ll want to sit with you on the bus,” he added, eyes closing once more, but not because he was still sleepy. there was just something comforting about the easy conversation, something he never had with anyone until june. now that he had the time to slow down, he could savor five more minutes just because. 

a soft thud eventually made him open his eyes, this time more alert. “was that from sunny’s room?” it was soft enough to eliminate the fear that she might have fallen from her bed, but it was definitely an announcement that she was up. hans moved slowly, letting his arms peel away from june with an apologetic look. “i guess our five minutes are up.” 

[harvestjune]

june almost laughed against his lips, soft enough that it melted into the kiss. unfair, hans had said, though june thought it was the other way around. hans always had a way of disarming him, of turning the simplest words into something june wanted forever. he could have argued, could have teased, but none of that felt necessary anymore.

the thought of the mailbox lingered at the back of his mind. an image so simple but heavy with meaning. he could picture it already: hans’ neatness, sunny’s bright colors, and his own hand steadying the paint when it dripped. something so ordinary becoming permanent proof of what they had. something he’d see every time he walked up the path.

a reminder that this was his place to return to, always.

june stayed close, unwilling to let the moment slip into anything less than what it had become. he traced his thumb along hans’ hand. moving in, drawers, closets, none of it scared him anymore. all he could think about was how natural it felt to belong here.

his forehead leaned against hans’ again, and june breathed quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “doesn’t matter cause i’m not leaving.”

and he meant it.

the rest of the world could wait. right now, it was just them.

[blxxmingrose]

the night deepened, words hushed, and the rest of the world melted away for two people wrapped around each other, in their shared space, where promises were formed and forged. kisses served as their currency, leaving everything sealed and the future open.

there would be more nights like this, but hans wanted to cherish each one as if it was their last. some lives are short. but they could be meaningful. if there’s one thing hans knew, it’s that he wanted to live every day like this. 

“i love you,” he found himself saying on repeat, until their eyes closed and their bodies molded together like puzzle pieces finding their place. “i love you, june.” each word held meaning, each one held weight. each one would, forever. 

the alarm woke hans up with a start, and his hand fought with the covers to find the source of the sound, his eyes refusing to open against the still-dark room. the sun hadn’t risen, but they had to be up early for the school trip. hans had agreed to chaperone, for obvious reasons. 

“five more minutes,” he murmured, retreating back to the warmth of the arms around him. "five more minutes and then i'll wake up sunny. she takes the most time to prepare anyway."

[harvestjune]

june’s gaze lingered on the cakes. the gleam of sugared roses and polished trays catching the light as if they’d been set there just for him to notice. he kept his hands in his pockets, though. safe, less likely to betray the stir that pressed into his chest when he caught sight of hans a few stalls away. he hadn’t meant to see him. he hadn’t meant to stop walking, either.

he lowered his eyes again, studying the delicate layers of sponge and cream behind glass, pretending like they had his full attention. pretending like he wasn’t listening to the sound of hans’ voice threading through the noise of the fair. that sound carried further than june wanted to admit.

he bent slightly as though he was looking closer. “beautiful work,” he murmured to the vendor, more to fill the air than out of obligation. his voice was polite, but his eyes flicked away from the display before he could stop himself. hans’ mother was at his side, a tray of sweets in hand, looking proud. june’s jaw tightened as he straightened, pulling his attention back.

this wasn’t his place. he knew that well enough. but the ache that came with realizing it didn’t make it easier to move.

he looked at the rows of wedding cakes again, “how something can be made to last in memory more than in taste.”

[blxxmingrose]

as the crowds thinned and stall owners rearranged their remaining treats before the baker’s fair ended, hans thought the day wasn’t so bad. it started on a good note, and he could convince himself it was also ending on an equally good one. he couldn’t help his eyes wandering around, to see corners he hadn’t noticed before, to see if he could catch a glimpse of june before they left. 

had they found something for their wedding? he wondered. were there some cake options, business cards they collected? he couldn’t help but wonder about what flavor they would choose, how they’d want it decorated, what kind of wedding topper would capture their essence. 

these were details hans shouldn’t think of, but they crawled into the recesses of his mind, occupying space without permission. but that was just what june did—his gaze stayed, his smile lingered, and his presence was felt even when hans pretended he didn’t. 

his mother was talking about certain shops that caught her eye—promptly adding that none of them were as good as what hans baked, of course—but hans was busy scanning, wondering.

his search ended at a stall in a corner, june’s unmistakable figure looking through the cakes on display, seemingly adoring their details. hans continued to wonder if, like him, that was a ruse too. he paused, just short enough for his mother not to notice, wondering if june would wave back if he waved first. if he didn’t hide this time. if he gave a friend a passing glance before they headed home, arms full of pastries and head full of questions. 

[harvestjune]

june laughed. “a decorated mailbox, huh?” his thumb brushed along the side of hans’ hand, his smile lingering. “i like that. something we make together that everyone will see the moment they come up to the house. i mean, sure, they’ll probably only notice it for two seconds before looking for the doorbell, but—” he glanced at hans with a playful raise of his eyebrow, letting hans finish the thought for him.

his eyes only softened then, thinking about the permanence in such a small, ordinary object. his head titled slightly in amusement. “now, about that drawer situation…” his voice dropped into a faux serious tone. “you should know, mister hans, that i’m highly skilled in strategic negotiations, and possibly even convincing certain people to donate some of their unused clothes to a charity in need.” he grinned, leaning in just enough for his nose to brush hans’.

the teasing faded into something gentler as his gaze lingered. “but i think i know what i need to do for now.” he somehow shifted even closer, his hand finding its way up to hans’ jaw, thumb brushing lightly against his skin. a softer laugh escaped him, almost as if he was shy, though there was nothing shy about the way his eyes held hans’ gaze, or the way he started to lean in.

he pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, slow and lingering. the kind of kiss to end the conversation, to fill hans with all the conviction he’d need.

[blxxmingrose]

“it doesn’t matter how long they look at the mailbox. it’s for us to look at every day, as a family,” hans clarified, pressing a kiss against june’s temple. it would be an activity for them to do and cherish, a way to turn the idea of family into something solid. an object to show the world that they were sticking together forever.

that all three of them would share this mailbox until it was worn and needed replacing—with perhaps more name added to it, but never a name removed. 

he set aside all thoughts of it for now as june pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, a kiss that convinced him to forget about drawers and an overflow of clothes far too easily. he smiled into the kiss, its softness making it more intimate, making everything feel right. “your way of negotiating feels unfair, mister june,” he whispered, not quite reviving the conversation before their lips were pressed together again.

strategy be damned—hans only needed a handful of clothes, right? he could donate a piece of clothing for every second june was pressed against him, and another one for each finger that grazed his skin. and another pair of jeans for each item of clothing he wanted to remove tonight. 

hans closed his eyes, taking the full weight of the moment, before letting it fully consume him. there were no more words to be said, just their bodies speaking in a way that understood each other. promises materialized on each other’s skin, kisses that held more meaning than letters strung together.

because just like a mailbox contained the letters addressed to their family, their room held space for them to be together in every official sense of the word. 

[harvestjune]

june could pretend it hadn’t happened at all. pretend he hadn’t noticed the way hans’ posture faltered, or how his hands seemed to lose their certainty, like holding something had become impossible. pretend that it didn’t matter, when in truth, it mattered far too much to him.

but what was he supposed to do with that moment? wave? smile? approach him in the middle of a crowd that already felt too close? the safe thing — and the most cowardly thing — had been to let the second slip away. he told himself it was kinder that way, to both of them. but as he stood among stalls of sugar and spice, listening half-heartedly to a conversation he wasn’t really apart of, june kept replaying it in his mind.

the moment left june with a tightness low in his chest, a restless ache that no cinnamon bun or sweet bread could fix. he found himself drifting from booth to booth, caught in that strange space between wanting to be seen again and dreading it happening all at the same time.

and now, after their recent conversations, it felt way worse. hans wasn’t just a memory anymore. he wasn’t a ghost from a life june had locked away. they’d been talking about things that didn’t belong to the past. they’d shared stupid jokes and mundane details, moments that should have been harmless but had rooted themselves under june’s skin. it was one thing to miss someone who was gone; it was another to know they were still within reach, that one choice could bridge the space between them.

his gaze skimmed over the wedding cakes on display, ornate and impossibly perfect, the kind of thing hans would’ve admired. the thought made june’s stomach feel heavier than it should. he told himself it was just the fair. too much sugar, too much noise, too many damn people, but deep, deep down, he knew better.

[blxxmingrose]

“you know that cake tray is not edible, right?” 

a stranger’s voice pierced through hans’ clouded thoughts, reeling him back to the present. his mother had her back turned to him, chatting away with someone hans couldn’t see, but the person who spoke was in front of him wearing an apron that bore the name of the stall. 

hans retracted his hand slowly, guiltily, as if he had been caught admiring something he shouldn’t. “no, i know, it was just—“

“as perfect as the cakes that they hold?” the stall owner had a strange look on his face, and hans felt like he was being challenged to disagree.

a quick look at the cakes made it hard to, though. they did look perfect—too perfect to eat. but hans was a baker too, and he couldn’t just give out compliments based on looks, right? “i don’t know,” he said, squinting at the way the cake had been piped. “these roses seem a little…” he left it unfinished, because there was really no complaint, just the challenge of one. 

the baker laughed, a clear laugh that rang through the crowd. hans envied that kind of laugh. it reminded him of a story of a thread guiding someone home. the sound felt like it was guiding him out of the haze he had buried himself in—all because he saw someone familiar, too familiar, even after years had passed. hans wanted to laugh with him too, to dispel all those unwanted thoughts, but all he gave was a polite smile. 

when his mother turned around, she had a tray of cupcakes in hand, and she seemed far too pleased with herself. “all free!” she exclaimed, linking her arm with hans once more. “you could use more cake trays, hans,” she said loud enough for the baker to hear, examining the trays in front of them as if she had been a part of the conversation all along. 

“so you bake too?” the stall owner asked, lifting the intricately designed cake tray and placing it in a bag before hans could even protest. 

“just a bit,” he replied, to which his mother chuckled. 

having his mother there made hans feel more at ease, but the realization behind it easily crept in. it had been a while since he’d had conversations like this with someone his age who was not a relative, a friend, or a shop attendant. it felt odd, but hans would have to get used to this if he wanted to get back into the dating scene, right? it took a long pause and an internal struggle before he finally added, “i own a shop too.” 

hans wanted to leave it there, but his mother was already fishing out a business card from her wallet and handing it to the stranger. “here, you should check it out sometime,” she said politely, even as hans threw her dagger looks. he knew exactly what she was doing, and the wink she gave didn’t stop hans from tugging her away before she could say more. 

he didn’t wait for the stranger to respond, didn’t check him turning his business card over in his hands, didn’t hope for anything more than a… strangely fun conversation in a random stall. his heart pounded like it hadn’t in a while, like it was finally waking up from being asleep for far too long and it was reminding him it could still beat. it felt good to feel seen somehow, to be made to feel like someone was curious about him.

and for a while he forgot. 

he forgot that he was hiding, that he didn’t want june to know that he saw him, that such a small one-sided encounter could affect him so quickly. that it weighed on him heavily, that it undid the light moment he had with a stranger. that his heart had been beating all along, for someone it was never supposed to. not anymore. 

[harvestjune]

june’s smile was small. the words hans had just said had buried themselves so deep in his chest that they felt like they’d always been there, waiting to be unearthed by this kind of love. there wasn’t anything grand or loud about it. it was in the way hans looked at him. the way he spoke like the work had already been done, like the foundation was set and solid beneath their feet.

june leaned in, resting his forehead against hans’ again, their breaths warm as they minged with each other. he closed his eyes and let it all settle in — the words, the softness, the quiet thrum of his heartbeat. “i think i knew,” he whispered, “somewhere between the first time i helped with breakfast and the fourth time i folded those tiny socks that weren’t mine… i knew it wasn’t just temporary.”

he pulled back just enough to look at hans, his gaze steady even through the tears slightly blurring the corners. his thumb traced lightly over the back of hans’ hand.

he smiled faintly, a little crooked and a little overwhelmed. “i want to put the mailbox up with you.” a soft breath escaped him as he laid his head against hans’ shoulder again, letting the quiet hold them both.

he pressed a kiss to the curve of hans’ shoulder, his fingers tightening gently around the hand in his. “i’m officially moving in,” he echoed, quieter, a smile ghosting over his lips. “it’s about time i stopped living out of a drawer anyway.” he laughed, but it cracked a little, full of emotion.

[blxxmingrose]

“you know what would be a nice moving in activity we could do?” hans spoke, his eyes shining with the idea of starting this new chapter filled with permanence. “we could decorate the mailbox. add our names to the side.” if that wasn’t the best symbolism of making the move official, hans didn’t know what was. 

something about the moment felt both light and significant, like they were just talking about what to do after dinner on another regular day, except they both knew they were talking about routines that would grow more and more over time. it was the knowing that this was not just a random decision, that it would entwine their souls more tightly together, that made hans feel like his heart might burst from overwhelming happiness. 

“except i’m not sure about giving you more than a drawer, though… i have a lot of clothes and tiny socks that somehow get mixed in there…” the words came out half-teasing, his eyebrows made to look uncertain, but his hand still pulled june tighter as his grin remained. “but i can be convinced to let go of some space to make room,” he added, puckering up for a hint.  

the fact that he could make a joke out of it, the fact that he felt a little silliness wouldn’t ruin the moment, only added to the assurance that he had found the one he wanted to be with forever. june’s presence made him feel like he could let go and have a little fun. his mind was already planning to fix up the closet situation even as he teased, because june brought out this lightheartedness out of him so easily. 

and maybe, just maybe, he was thinking of something else too. something else that would be the most official of all, and maybe one school day, he could drop by the jewelers to set things in motion. 

[harvestjune]

june didn’t want to come.

he said as much to lucia when she first suggested it, letting the idea pass over him. it was easier that way. easier to let her talk and fill the silence. and still, he found himself trailing after her that morning, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, hood up more for something to hide behind. the baker’s fair wasn’t exactly intimate. it was busy and loud and full of enough distractions to keep him from thinking too hard. that was the idea.

lucia had peeled off to check out some blueberry danishes. “you can’t trust anyone who puts lavender in a croissant,” she said conspiratorially, and disappeared before he could agree, and june was left standing there in the middle of the fair, surrounded by the scent of cinnamon and sugar.

his eyes skimmed over the crowd. he paused on a family with matching jackets. an older woman wiping powdered sugar from her son’s mouth. a man in a brown coat offering samples with a grin that reached all the way to his eyes. he wasn’t looking for anyone in particular. he told himself that more than once.

but then he saw him, just across the stalls, standing beside someone — his mother, june realized, a second too late. and hans looked…

he could’ve waved at him. could’ve smiled. he didn’t. something knotted in his throat, and he looked away like it hadn’t happened. like it wasn’t still happening. like hans’ eyes hadn’t just met his. june couldn’t be sure if he was the one who looked away first.

he ducked back behind a stall before he could think too hard about it. he didn’t know what to do with himself, and he hated that. hated how many steps backwards he felt from just standing there. he wasn’t supposed to want anything. that was the deal. that was what made this okay. but he did.

when lucia found him a few minutes later, it was with a paper bag of pastries in one hand and a curious look in her eyes. “you alright?” she asked softly. june nodded. “yeah. just got. uh… sugar... in my eye.” to which she snorted, offering the bag to him.

[blxxmingrose]

the briefest moment of their eyes meeting felt like a shock to his system, and hans forgot how to use his hands after that. his mother handed him another pastry, one he had to grasp like his life depended on it. one he still nearly dropped like he forgot how to hold on to delicate things. 

was that awkward for june too? he definitely saw hans. definitely saw that hans didn’t wave, didn’t smile—even if he didn’t know the urge was there, underneath the surface, needing to be constrained because—

because what? 

the thought swam in hans’ head, echoing against the corners of his mind, not wanting to rest. the baker’s fair felt like a daze, even as his mother saw friends and caught up with them with him in tow (see, hans? that’s how friends do it—they don’t pretend the other person doesn’t exist). he stood there awkwardly while they chatted, his eyes unfocused but scanning for another look at june in his peripheral vision.

even when he held back a smile, hans was so very aware of how his body was so attuned to june’s presence. and it hurt, just a little bit, to know that that was an automatic reaction he could not train himself to forget. it was just something that happened. he just always looked for june in a crowd, always listened for his voice, and when he picked up a raisin loaf, he could still imagine the look on june’s face. the baker’s fair was busy, but all the noises felt faraway now when his mind was screaming june, june, june. 

it’s worse now that they’re talking again, because he didn’t just have messages from past june to recall when he saw his face. he had recent messages, jokes, and simple details about what went on in their lives now. he wasn’t hurting because he couldn’t talk to june again; he felt a tightness in his chest because he could if he wanted, but he was afraid of what would happen if he did. 

“you look as pale as snow,” his mother whispered, tugging on his arm as they reached a section for cakes. “do you feel unwell? should we go?” 

“no,” hans replied quickly with a shake of his head. he didn’t want to ruin the day for her. he had no reason to. “maybe just too much sweets,” he explained. instead of focusing on the cakes on display (wedding cakes, his mind helpfully noted), he ran his fingers through a cake stand, letting the cool surface calm him down. “i think i just need to give the stomach a little break, but go ahead and try them. the cakes look good,” he encouraged, and he meant it. if he wasn’t so meticulous with his own cakes, he’d even call them perfect. 

i bet the baker behind them always had a clear mind when decorating, he noted resentfully. i bet they don’t feel like the rug under their feet had been pulled away with just one look. the same look he was looking for once more.