Hans
A warm glow grewin his chest, the train’s steady drumming a comforting promise of adventure. The adrenaline from the hot rods had faded into something softer, warmer, a quiet hum between them neither seemed eager to break. The sky had darkened as the night wore on. Hans kept catching Adrik glancing at him, quick flicks of his eyes and a smile like he was checking to make sure Hans was still there. It only reaffirmed they were both attempting to confirm their place with each other.
The pull between them was heavy and undeniable, a gravity that seemed to tug them closer every moment. After their stop, they walked side by side through the station’s exit, the cold air rushing in to greet them. The Ferris wheel’s looming silhouette cast a chilling shadow as an icy breeze seized them.
The gondolas swayed gently, their glass catching the faint glow of the harbor lights. The distant hum of machinery blew in the wind.
The scent of saltwater drifted in from the Baltic, sharp and bracing. An icy breeze swept across the platform, cutting through Hans’ jacket and stealing the warmth from his cheeks.
Then Adrik just stopped walking.
A wide grin spread across Adrik’s face as he gazed at the ride and broke the silence. “I went on that Ferris wheel with my grandfather when I turned eighteen. We had fish sandwiches and draft beer on the Ferris wheel overlooking the Baltic Sea. I’ll never forget that trip. He didn’t tell anyone where we were going, and when we got home, neither of us spoke about it.”
“I didn’t know you’d been here before.”
“Only once.”
“Is your grandfather still around?”
Adrik closed his eyes for a few seconds, a serene smile gracing his lips as if he were remembering a very special moment. “No.”
“I guess you were here when the weather was good?”
“June.”
“And your birthday is?”
“Are you fishing for info?”
Adrik had shared something of his past, but Hans noticed he shifted his gaze as if he were done sharing personal information. He wouldn’t push to find out more about this man he was so desperate to know inside and out.
With each step, Hans sweated more, and they both just stood there when they got to Adrik’s cottage.
Then Adrik finally turned toward him, his expression unreadable but intense. “You want to come in?”
Hans swallowed, pulse kicking up. “Yeah. I do.”
The cottage was warmer on the inside than it had been before, or perhaps Hans was only more conscious of the man beside him. Adrik closed the door behind them, and the soft click of the lock echoed like a promise.
For a moment, they just stood there, facing each other in the dim light. Hans’ throat pounded with his heartbeat. Adrik looked different now—not guarded, not smirking, but open in a way Hans hadn’t seen yet. Vulnerable, even.
“You know,” Adrik said, “I wasn’t sure you’d come inside again.”
Hans stepped closer. “I wasn’t sure either.”
Adrik let out a breath, almost a laugh. “But you did.”
“I did.” Hans nodded.
They were close enough Hans could feel the heat radiating off him, close enough to see the details of the gold dagger dangling from his ear, and close enough to smell the mix of pine shower gel and cold salt air clinging to his shirt.
Adrik’s voice dropped. “Hans…”
Hans didn’t know who moved first. Maybe they both did. One moment there was a space between them, and the next Adrik’s hand was on his jaw, warm and steady, and Hans was leaning into it like he’d been waiting for this all night.
Their lips met; slow at first, almost cautious, like they were testing the shape of each other. Something inside him loosened as the ache of the past few years melted under the heat of the moment.
Adrik lunged forward, his momentum driving Hans back until he hit the wall with a dull thud, the sudden heavy weight of Adrik’s body pressed flush against his own. Before Hans could catch his breath, Adrik’s hands slammed against the surface on either side of his head, pinning him there.
