They moved here a few months ago. Had to do a fair bit of renovation, but it was worth it. Beautiful house on a hill, quite close to town. Just enough not to get frustrated by commuting. Old furniture, which they had renovated with their own hands, created a pleasant atmosphere that, although Jonathan had not known it before, now appreciated it strongly.

It was a beautiful sunny day. One of the first hot days of spring. The first leaves appeared on the treetops, the flowers were sprouting their buds. Everything smelled lovely and encouraged to enjoy the beauty of nature. One look at their new garden was enough to fall in love with it. Steve was working on the geranium ladder they wanted to put near the hammock, while Jonathan was standing in the kitchen, opposite the large open window. He watched his beloved and remained silent, although many words fell on his lips that should, sooner or later, leave his throat. But so far and now, something has blocked them. Some terrible fear that if he spoke it, it would destroy the little world they had built for themselves here in the suburbs, in silence, away from people giving them appraising glances.

Jonathan wanted to smother it all within himself. He was perfect at hiding his true feelings, running away from responsibility, but unfortunately (or maybe he was lucky?) Steve somehow always knew. Jonathan realized that he would not be able to hide from him anything that bounced in his heart, as soon as their eyes met. Steve fixed his eyes on him for a few seconds too long. As if he knew something was wrong and needed those few seconds to make some important decision within himself. Then he silently finished tying the last string, put the tools back in the box, and carried it to the terrace. Only then did he step inside, giving Jonathan a sincere but hesitant smile.

Wiping his hands on a cloth, he said:

"I'm done, you can check later to see if everything is okay."

Then he wanted to add something, but closed his mouth quickly. The tension of unspoken words hung between them. They both didn't know what they should do about it, but finally, when Jonathan's expression indicated he wasn't going to take it anymore, Steve came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Jonathan shook slightly. His hands tightened on the sleeves of Steve's sweater and finally wanted to speak, but not a single word suited the situation.

"I want…" he began, then his voice cracked, a soft sob escaping his throat. He felt Steve move closer to him, resting his face on his shoulder, and breathing heavily. Steve waited for an answer, but did not force it. Jonathan appreciated that, but it still wasn't easy.

Staring at the freshly cut, fragrant lawn and the large clay pots in which they wanted to plant flowers, but postponed going to the market for tomorrow, he finally said:

"I wish we had children."

And then there was nothing. No breath, no word. Because it was hard to say anything here. He knew Steve loved him, and he felt loved, he was happy here, but he wanted even more. He wanted exactly what they couldn't have.

And then, with tears running down his reddened cheeks, troubled breathing, a dream they couldn't fulfill, he turned to him and hugged him tightly. Steve's rough fingers curled around his face as he placed a soft kiss on Jonathan's forehead. His warmth was overwhelming as always.

Steve wiped his sweaty forehead with a dirty hand, leaving a brown smudge on it. Jonathan smiled at that, but said nothing. They were both tired of transplanting plants into pots in which they will grow from today, and they still haven't finished. More and more he wanted to suggest that they put it off until tomorrow.

"Wanna drink something, Jon?"

Jonathan took a deep breath, watching him as he got to his feet.

"Yeah."

Jonathan tapped the soil in the pot with his fingers, but they both seemed to silently agreed that this was the moment when they gave up. He brushed his hands on his pants and stood up as well.

Before they could move on, Steve broke the silence:

"What if we adopted a dog?"

Jonathan chuckled. He knew it was a reference to a conversation from yesterday.

"Three."

"Two."

"Three and one should be small enough to sleep with us."

Steve raised his eyebrows, resting his hands on his hips.

"What?"

"Okay," he replied, "three dogs."

"Or a cat."

"But you're the cat of the house… I mean… Yeah, could be a cat. Come, Jon," he grabbed his hand, "I'll pour us some wine."

"Wash yourself first."

Sitting on the wicker couch he so much refused to buy, he finally understood why Steve wanted it so badly. It was damn pricey and seemed like an unnecessary expense since there were so many cheaper options in the store, but now that they could both be lying on it with both legs stretched out, it was all clear. They needed this couch. And he won't regret spending that money. They were already old. He had to learn that he could spend money on himself, he didn't have to save money to help his family. He will also not regret having built this terrace for themselves. And that he has bought a really expensive material for curtains that will protect them from the sun in the summer. This terrace will be his favorite place from today. It's a good place.

It's their place.

Leaning his head against his shoulder, he let Steve run fingers through his hair. He still had a half-empty glass in his hand, but he didn't really want to drink from it anymore. He was just feeding on that warmth. On closeness to a man he had loved for years.

"Jon?"

"Hm?"

"There is actually something I never told you about."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows, though Steve couldn't see it. Sometimes he would laugh at him for telling the same story over and over again. Something new… sounded intriguing. But in light of their recent conversations, it also sounded disturbing.

"Remember when I told you about me, Nancy and Robin walking through the woods to kill One?"

"Mhm."

"When we went there, I was pretty sure we were going there to die. Or that at least I would die because I would never hesitate if I could sacrifice my life to save them. And as we went to that death, my whole life passed before my eyes and… Then it dawned on me that when I was younger I had such a marvelous dream. And dreams that you have as a kid are usually dreams that you laugh about later. They are abandoned like old toys. But this dream was about how I would like to have a big family someday. A big family, like six children."

"Six?"

"Six."

"And when I said about the third dog, you made a face like you wanted to run away."

"Nancy made a face too, as if she wanted to run away."

"Nancy…? You told her about…"

"Yes. We were going to die, and I told her in this forest that when I was in high school with her for these few months, I imagined that someday we would have six children. I was very specific. Three boys, three girls. And that we would have such a big camper, and we will go on vacation. We will visit all the haunted houses, the most beautiful beaches in California, that every vacation, as this big family, we will cram into this car, and we will just drive and drive…"

There was silence between them. Finally, after a deep breath, Steve cut it off again.

"One look at her and I knew then that I had no chance with her anymore. Not even the smallest. I thought then that it was the stupidest thing I could do. And it didn't surprise me that she preferred to develop as a journalist with you."

"We were together then, right?"

"Yes. That's why I never told you that. But now I know you won't run away from me just because I was a teenager once."

"Wow. If we had broken up a week earlier, she would have probably agreed."

Steve chuckled.

"I'm kinda glad she didn't," he said, and kissed Jonathan's head. "I'm happy where I am, but… Leaving six kids aside, I don't think It's a bad idea. To drop everything off every summer and drive, and drive…"

"With our three dogs."

"Yeah, with the little one too."

"They would love the haunted houses."

"And we could visit everyone. All the kids, and Robin, and Nancy, and… like everyone. Big trip every year, every summer."

"We could take Robin and Vicky somewhere too."

"Oh, I see you like the idea."

"Yeah," he answered honestly. "I like our little world here, but it's not like I hate the world outside. It's just… intimidating sometimes."

"Well, this camper would also be like our little world. Only mobile."

"I just thought about it breaking in, like, a middle of the Grand Canyon."

"And why the hell would we drive to the middle of the Grand Canyon?"

"To get that little dog off the leash and make sure he doesn't bite anyone."

"Makes sense."

Jonathan put his glass down on the coffee table and hugged Steve tighter.

"I have the impression that if it weren't for the alcohol, I would be very cold now."

"Yeah. And we have to go to sleep to get up to work tomorrow."

"I would say adulthood sucks, but…" he raised his head, "to be honest, I'm happy even when I have to go to work. If I need to do taxes and stuff, It's calming that I'm doing them with you."

Steve smiled.

"I love you too."