Unwritten Fate [BL]-Chapter 57: The Way Home Feels

The wind carried the faint scent of blooming flowers and fresh grass as they left the shed behind. Neither said anything; they didn't need to.

Side by side, their hands brushed every few steps until Billy reached out properly, lacing his fingers with Artur's.

Artur squeezed gently, his thumb stroking the back of Billy's hand in small circles. The world felt slower here, quieter — just the whisper of the breeze, the occasional chirp of birds, and the soft crunch of their boots on the dirt path.

Billy tilted his head back to catch the sky — streaks of gold and soft orange were already bleeding into the blue, the first sign that evening was near.

"It's beautiful," he murmured.

Artur didn't look at the sky; he looked at him instead.

"Yeah," he said softly, the word carrying a different weight.

Billy caught him staring and gave a shy, crooked smile, squeezing Artur's hand tighter.

They wandered back toward the house at an easy pace, no rush, savoring every small moment like it might slip away if they moved too fast.

Passing through the fields, a few children were chasing each other, their laughter rippling through the air. An old woman waved from her porch. A couple of villagers nodded at them in passing — simple, easy acknowledgments that felt somehow comforting.

Back home, the house greeted them like an old friend — quiet, warm, familiar.

They kicked off their boots and stepped inside. A trace of coffee and eggs clung to the warm wooden air, like memories refusing to fade.

Billy let go of Artur's hand only to flop down on the couch, sprawling out dramatically. "I'm officially dead."

Artur chuckled, coming to sit beside him, one arm resting lazily behind Billy's shoulders.

"We didn't even do that much," he teased.

Billy turned his face toward him, eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Maybe not. But you've already stolen my energy. Look at me. A ruined man."

Artur leaned closer, brushing Billy's hair away from his forehead.

"I'll return it later," he promised in a low murmur.

Billy's cheeks warmed, but he didn't look away. Instead, he shifted, resting his head against Artur's chest, listening to the steady heartbeat under his ear.

They sat like that for a while, the sky outside growing deeper in color, painting the world in soft pastels. No words. Just the sound of breathing, of hearts, of the quiet house around them.

Finally, Billy sighed, the kind that carried happiness, not sadness.

"I could stay like this forever."

Artur kissed the top of his head gently.

"So could I."

The house creaked lightly in the cooling evening air, the only witness to the simple, unshakable way they fit together.

Billy tilted his head up from Artur's chest, a lazy smile tugging at his lips.

"You know," he said, voice low and teasing, "if you keep holding me like this... I might start thinking you're addicted."

Artur arched an eyebrow, smiling back.

"Might?" he said, leaning in just a little. "I thought it was obvious."

Billy laughed, that soft breathless kind that always made Artur's chest tighten. He wriggled closer, like he was daring Artur to prove it — and Artur, always ready for a challenge when it came to Billy, caught him by the waist and pulled him fully into his lap.

"Obvious, huh?" Billy murmured, pretending to think about it as he draped his arms around Artur's neck.

Artur nodded seriously.

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Billy bit back a grin, his fingers lightly playing with the hair at the nape of Artur's neck. For a moment they just stayed there — pressed together, breathing in each other's nearness — until Billy's gaze flicked over Artur's shoulder.

He frowned slightly.

Now that he noticed it, the house was a little... messier than usual. Dust gathered along the floorboards near the door, and a few stray leaves clung stubbornly to the corners from when the door was open earlier.

Billy sighed dramatically, still lounging against Artur.

"I guess without Mr. Dand around, this place is starting to look a bit wild."

Artur didn't move, only gave a small hum.

"Hmm. Wild's not so bad."

Billy smacked his shoulder lightly.

"I mean messy wild, not fun wild," he corrected with a teasing glare. Then he straightened up, stretching his arms overhead with a small groan.

"I can't just sit around while dust bunnies start forming armies."

Artur watched him with a soft, amused look.

"So what are you saying? You wanna start a war?"

Billy hopped up from the couch with an exaggerated flourish, hands on his hips like a hero from a storybook.

"I'm saying it's time to save the house, Commander."

Artur chuckled, standing more slowly.

"Well then, Captain, lead the way."

Billy grinned, tossing him a mock salute before disappearing down the hall to grab a broom and a cloth.

When he returned, he held out the broom toward Artur with an innocent smile.

"You take the front lines. I'll handle strategy."

Artur snorted but took the broom anyway, tapping Billy's hip lightly with the end of it as he passed by.

"Your strategy better include a reward."

Billy laughed, playful and bright, as he grabbed a cloth and started wiping down the counter.

"We'll negotiate terms after victory."

And so, their afternoon shifted into light, sweet chaos — broom swishing, laughter echoing through the small house, stolen glances and brushes of fingers whenever they crossed paths.

Cleaning had never felt so much like dancing.

"Billy wiped the counter in slow, thoughtful strokes, the cloth dragging through silence as he hummed something faint and familiar — a melody that made Artur glance up with quiet fondness.

Across the room, Artur swept lazily, his movements almost too relaxed to be called working.

Billy caught him slacking and narrowed his eyes in mock seriousness.

"Commander," he called dramatically, pointing his cloth at Artur like a sword. "Are you trying to betray our mission?"

Artur paused, leaning on the broom with a lazy smile.

"Maybe I'm just waiting for better orders."

Billy's mouth twitched, pretending to think deeply, before he strutted across the room. He plucked the broom from Artur's hands and set it aside.

"New mission," Billy whispered as he looped his arms around Artur's neck.

"Keep me entertained."

Artur let out a low chuckle, his arms easily sliding around Billy's waist, pulling him close.

"That," he murmured against Billy's hair, "I can do."

For a moment, they just swayed there together — no music, no real movement, just the gentle rhythm of their breath syncing in silence.

Billy's forehead pressed into Artur's collarbone, and Artur rested his chin lightly on top of Billy's head. The house, half-cleaned, half-forgotten, wrapped around them like a warm cocoon.

"Maybe we're not the best cleaners," Billy mumbled.

Artur huffed a soft laugh.

"Maybe we're just good at finding better things to do."

Billy pulled back a little, just enough to look up at him, his face flushed from laughing and movement.

"Like what?" he asked, teasing.

Artur smiled, slow and sure, brushing a stray hair from Billy's forehead.

"Like waking up every day knowing I get to love you — and call that living."

The simple words hit Billy so suddenly, so deeply, that for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

He ducked his head quickly, hiding the small shy smile blooming across his face.

"Idiot," Billy muttered softly, his voice trembling with affection.

Artur tilted Billy's chin up gently with two fingers, so he could see those flushed cheeks and watery eyes.

"No," he said seriously. "Not an idiot. Just... yours."

Billy shifted slightly, murmuring, "You always smell like pine and sun."

Artur chuckled, brushing his lips over Billy's hair.

"And you smell like mischief and morning coffee."

Billy snorted. "Sounds like a disaster."

Artur smiled into his hair. "Sounds like home."

Billy blinked up at him, lips parting — and then without another word, he pushed up onto his toes and kissed him.

Billy's laughter faded as their eyes locked, something unspoken stirring underneath the humor — quiet, weighty, inevitable.

"It wasn't a hurried kiss. It was slow. Sweet. The kind of kiss that spoke of mornings..." afternoons wasted in each other's arms, years still waiting to be lived side by side.

Artur's hand slid up Billy's back, holding him close, and Billy curled his fingers tightly into Artur's shirt like he never wanted to let go.

When they finally pulled apart, Billy let out a breathless laugh, his forehead still pressed against Artur's.

"We're terrible at cleaning."

Artur smiled against his lips.

"But we're really good at this."

Billy gave a small hum of agreement and leaned in for one more kiss, softer this time, like a whispered promise.

Then, somewhere from the back of the house, the wind creaked through the windows. The scent of lavender from the garden drifted in faintly, dancing in the silence.

Billy rested his head against Artur's shoulder again, eyes half-closed.

"I used to think peace like this only happened in books."

Artur brushed his lips against Billy's temple.

"You were always the story I was waiting to read."

They stood still for a while longer, then Billy finally tilted his head back and looked up at him with a smirk.

"You know, if we actually finish cleaning, I might cook something decent tonight."

Artur feigned shock.

"A reward and a clean house? You spoil me."

Billy gave a smug little shrug.

"Only because I like the way you say 'thank you.'"

Artur leaned in, voice low.

"Then maybe I should start thanking you in advance."

Billy laughed, but it was cut off by a sharp gasp when Artur suddenly dipped him backward like they were dancing.

"Artur!" he squeaked, clutching at his shirt.

"Practicing my thank-yous," Artur said innocently.

Billy was breathless with laughter when he was pulled upright again. He rested his forehead against Artur's.

The broom lay forgotten by the door, the cloth draped uselessly over the counter.

And for the first time since Mr. Dand had left, the house didn't feel empty at all — it felt full.

Full of laughter. Full of love.

Full of them.