The sun had climbed higher, casting a warm glow over them as they worked side by side. The scent of freshly cut wood mingled with the faint crispness of drying leaves, and the occasional rustling of trees filled the quiet spaces between their words.
Billy, sleeves rolled up, focused on his task—his hands steady as he worked, though he felt Artur's presence beside him. It was different now, knowing what they were to each other, what they wanted to be.
And maybe that's why he wasn't as nervous as before.
Their movements were comfortable, their rhythm in sync—like they had been doing this for years. Every now and then, their fingers would brush as they passed tools between them, or their shoulders would bump slightly when reaching for the same thing.
Neither of them pulled away.
Then, just as Billy was wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, Artur let out a dramatic sigh, stretching his arms above his head.
"Here I thought we'd be enjoying our first date today," he mused, voice carrying a teasing lilt. "But no. Work."
Billy's hand froze mid-air.
His mind latched onto the word, heartbeat skipping before speeding up again.
"…Date?" he repeated, turning to Artur with wide eyes.
Artur smirked, resting his weight on one leg. "Yeah. Our first date."
Billy felt the heat creep up his neck. He hadn't expected that—at least, not so soon.
Artur watched him, waiting.
Billy, after a moment, found his voice. "You… want a date?"
Artur tilted his head slightly, gaze softening. "I thought it was obvious."
Billy swallowed, gripping the hem of his sleeve. Then, before his mind could overthink it, he turned toward Artur fully, stepping just a fraction closer.
"…Alright," Billy murmured.
Artur blinked. "Alright?"
Billy's lips curved, just slightly. "You want a date?" he asked, voice dipped with disbelief—and something else, something soft he couldn't quite name. "Then… let's have one."
Artur straightened slightly, surprise flickering across his face before melting into something else. Something warm.
"Right now?" he asked, amused.
Billy shrugged. "Why not?"
Artur chuckled, glancing around at their surroundings—the half-finished work, the scattered tools. "And what exactly do you call this?"
Billy lifted a brow. "You're the one who said it first."
Artur huffed a small laugh. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he leaned in just a bit. "Alright, then. If this is a date, that means I get to enjoy it properly."
Before Billy could question what he meant, Artur reached out and—gently, so casually—brushed a stray strand of hair from Billy's forehead.
Billy's breath hitched—just slightly—but it was enough. That brief touch, barely a whisper across his skin, left behind a warmth that clung stubbornly to his chest.
Artur grinned. "You've got dust all over you."
Billy, despite the warmth creeping up his skin, managed to roll his eyes. "So do you."
Artur smirked. "Then clean me up."
Billy stared.
Artur was clearly enjoying this—watching him, waiting to see what he would do.
And maybe before, Billy would have turned away, flustered. Maybe he would have ignored the way his heart was thudding, the way Artur's voice made his stomach twist.
But this time?
Billy smirked back.
Without a word, he stepped closer, reaching up.
And then, ever so slowly, he brushed his fingers along Artur's jawline—dusting away nothing in particular, just tracing the curve of his cheek, his thumb grazing along Artur's skin a second too long.
Artur's breath hitched, just slightly.
Billy lowered his hand. "Better?"
For once, Artur was the one caught off guard.
His smirk faltered just a little, his expression shifting—before he let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "You're dangerous," he murmured.
Billy gave a small, pleased smile. "You started it."
Artur watched him, eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, after a moment, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
"…Fine," he said, stepping back slightly. "We finish work first. Then I'm taking you somewhere."
Billy lifted a brow. "Oh?"
"You'll see."
Billy chuckled, shaking his head before turning back to their work. But this time, the air between them was lighter, softer.
And every now and then, as they worked, Artur would accidentally brush his hand against Billy's—just for the sake of feeling him there.
Billy never pulled away.
By the time they finished their work, the sun had begun its slow descent, dipping the sky into warmer hues of gold and amber. The air carried a softness now, a gentle breeze whispering through the trees as if the world itself had settled into something calmer.
Billy dusted his hands off on his clothes, rolling his shoulders. "Alright," he said, glancing at Artur. "You said you're taking me somewhere?"
Artur's gaze lingered on him, mischief tugging at the corner of his lips as he stretched languidly. "Mmm," he hummed. "And here I thought you'd be too tired."
Billy gave him a look. "You said it was a date."
Artur's grin widened. "Oh, so now you're the one insisting on a date?"
Billy huffed, shaking his head—but there was a lightness in his chest, a warmth curling around the edges of his heart.
Artur chuckled, stepping closer and nudging Billy's shoulder lightly. "Come on."
With that, he turned, walking toward the winding path that led away from the main part of the village. Billy followed, their steps falling into an easy rhythm—walking close enough that their hands almost brushed, but neither of them moved away.
The deeper they went, the quieter everything became. The sounds of the village faded into the background, replaced by the rustling leaves and the occasional chirp of birds settling into their nests.
Billy glanced at Artur. "So… where are we going?"
Artur's smirk curled slowly. "Getting impatient already?"
Billy sighed, looking away. "I just don't like surprises."
Artur hummed thoughtfully. Then, without warning, he reached out—grasping Billy's wrist and pulling him forward, just slightly.
Billy stumbled before quickly catching his balance, eyes widening.
Artur didn't let go.
Instead, he turned slightly, still walking, but his fingers remained curled around Billy's wrist—firm, steady.
Billy stared at their hands, heart hammering. "…What are you doing?"
Artur shrugged, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. "Making sure you don't run away before we get there."
Billy scoffed, though his face felt warmer than before. "I wouldn't run away."
Artur hummed, slowing his steps. "Good," he murmured.
And then—he slid his fingers down, slowly, until they laced with Billy's.
Billy's breath caught.
Artur was looking ahead, as if nothing had happened—as if he hadn't just entwined their fingers so easily, so naturally.
Billy swallowed, glancing down at their joined hands.
His first instinct was to pull away, to act like it was too much too soon. But… it wasn't, was it?
Instead of pulling away, Billy let out a soft breath and squeezed Artur's fingers just slightly.
Artur felt it.
His lips quirked, barely visible in the dimming light. But he said nothing.
They walked like that, hand in hand, until Artur finally slowed to a stop.
Billy blinked, looking up.
They had arrived at a quiet clearing near the lake—one Billy hadn't been to before. The lake shimmered with borrowed sky—blues melting into amber, like brushstrokes across glass. Tall trees framed the space, creating a secluded, peaceful atmosphere. A few large rocks sat by the water's edge, smooth and inviting.
Billy exhaled softly. "This is…"
"Nice, right?" Artur finished, tilting his head slightly.
Billy nodded, stepping forward. He let go of Artur's hand—not because he wanted to, but because he needed to take it all in.
He walked closer to the water, crouching down and trailing his fingers against the cool surface. It rippled gently under his touch.
Artur watched him, his gaze unreadable.
"…Thought you'd like it," Artur murmured after a moment.
Billy turned his head slightly, lips curving. "You thought right."
Artur chuckled, stepping up behind him. "Good."
For a while, they just existed in that space—neither of them speaking, just listening to the soft sounds of the lake, the distant rustling of leaves.
Then, Artur broke the silence.
"So… if we were calling this a date…" He paused, tilting his head. "How do you think it's going?"
Billy scoffed, shaking his head. "You really want this to be a date, huh?"
Artur smirked. "You tell me. You haven't left yet."
Billy rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance in his expression. Instead, he stood, brushing off his pants before turning to face Artur fully.
"…It's not bad," he admitted.
Artur's brows lifted. "Not bad?"
Billy smirked. "Could be better."
Artur gasped dramatically. "Excuse me?"
Billy shrugged, crossing his arms. "I mean, if this is really supposed to be a date, shouldn't there be food?"
Artur stared. Then, after a beat, he laughed—a deep, rich sound that sent warmth curling through Billy's chest.
"Alright, alright," Artur conceded, shaking his head. "Next time, I'll bring food."
Billy tilted his head. "So there's going to be a next time?"
Artur met his gaze, something softer settling in his expression.
"…Yeah," he murmured. "I think there is."
Billy held his gaze for a moment, his heartbeat a steady rhythm in his ears. Then, quietly—almost shyly—he murmured, "Good."
Artur smiled.
And as they stood there, with the lake stretching before them and the sky darkening into deep purples and blues, the air between them felt settled.
Not rushed.
Not uncertain.
Just… right.
The cool evening breeze rolled over the lake, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth and pine. The sky, now deepening into shades of indigo and violet, stretched endlessly above them. The quiet hum of nature filled the air—the occasional rustle of leaves, the distant call of a night bird.
Billy lowered himself onto one of the smooth rocks by the water, stretching his legs out. Artur followed suit, sitting beside him, their shoulders almost touching.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
It wasn't an awkward silence. It was the kind that felt comfortable, the kind where words weren't necessary.
Billy let out a slow breath, tilting his head back to gaze at the stars that had begun to pepper the sky. "It's peaceful," he murmured.
Artur hummed in agreement, his gaze not on the stars, but on Billy.
Billy felt it. The weight of that stare.
He turned his head slightly, catching the soft amusement in Artur's expression. "What?"
Artur smirked. "Nothing."
Billy narrowed his eyes. "You're staring."
Artur chuckled, unapologetic. "I like looking at you."
Billy's breath hitched. His fingers curled slightly against the rock's surface, his chest tightening in a way he wasn't used to.
Artur leaned back on his palms, tilting his head. "You don't have to act all flustered," he teased. "It's just a fact."
Billy exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "You really don't hold back, do you?"
Artur's grin softened as he looked at Billy—not teasing this time, just honest. And under the starlit hush of that lakeside night, Billy didn't look away. "Should I?"
Billy didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze back toward the water, watching the gentle ripples spread across the surface.
Then, softly, he murmured, "No."
Artur blinked.
Billy didn't look at him, but there was a small, almost mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "I think I'd rather have you be honest."
Artur's chest tightened.
The teasing glint in his eyes softened into something warmer, something deeper.
"…Noted," he murmured.
Billy did turn to him then, their gazes locking. For a brief moment, neither of them moved—just watching, just existing in the space between them.
Then, casually—as if it meant nothing, though it meant everything—Billy reached out, brushing a stray leaf off Artur's sleeve.
Artur felt that small touch like a spark against his skin.
His fingers twitched, the urge to pull Billy closer nearly overwhelming. But he didn't.
Instead, he just smiled, slow and easy. "You're getting bold."
Billy huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes. "Don't push your luck."
Artur chuckled, but he didn't tease further.
Instead, he simply leaned back, tilting his head toward the stars.
Billy did the same, their shoulders finally touching—not by accident, not hesitantly, but naturally.
He felt it. The weight of that stare.
And for the first time in a long while, he didn't look away.
Neither of them pulled away.
And in that quiet, under the vast stretch of the night sky, with nothing but the sound of the lake and their own steady heartbeats, something settled between them.
Not rushed.
Not uncertain.
Just right.