Rowan's new passion for nectar-making had quickly taken root. The morning after their visit to the nectary, he woke up determined to learn more. With a little research and some encouragement from Oliver, he found a small workshop in town that offered lessons in crafting basic nectars.

The workshop was tucked away on a quiet street, the air inside thick with the scent of crushed fruit and aged wood. Rowan listened intently as the instructor walked them through the process - selecting the right fruit, mashing it properly, fermenting, and bottling. It was meticulous, precise, almost scientific - and Rowan loved it.

By the end of the session, Rowan had bottled his first homemade nectar - a simple blend of apples and pears. He held the bottle in his hands, admiring the rich golden color of the liquid.

"Look at you," Oliver teased, watching from the corner with a smirk. "First science genius, now master nectar maker. What can't you do?"

Rowan laughed, shaking his head. "You say that like I didn't spend the first hour nearly spilling everything."

Oliver leaned in, nudging his shoulder. "Yeah, but you figured it out. That's what you do."

Rowan's smile softened. Oliver always believed in him - always saw him in a way that made him feel unstoppable.

After the lesson, the two of them wandered into a quaint little caf� near the town square. The scent of fresh pastries and strong coffee filled the air as they sat by the window, watching the world move around them.

"This trip has been... different," Rowan mused, stirring his espresso. "I mean, I expected to enjoy France, but I didn't expect to find something I actually want to bring back with me."

Oliver tilted his head, studying Rowan carefully. "You really love it, don't you? The nectar-making?"

Rowan nodded. "I do. I think I want to keep doing it when we get home. It's... kind of peaceful."

Oliver grinned. "Then I guess I'll be your first customer."

Rowan chuckled. "You already are."

Oliver tapped his fingers against the table before leaning in slightly. "So, where does this leave you? You've got the science job waiting, now nectar-making - what are you thinking about all of this?"

Rowan sighed, swirling the liquid in his cup. "I don't know. I feel like I'm at this crossroads, you know? Science is my dream, but this - this feels different. More personal."

Oliver nodded. "Maybe that's a good thing. Sometimes, dreams change. Doesn't mean you stop being you."

After finishing their drinks, they strolled through the local market, stopping to admire fresh fruit, handcrafted goods, and artisan cheeses. Rowan picked up a few bottles of locally made nectar, excited to compare it to his own experiments.

Oliver grabbed a small basket of strawberries and plucked one out, holding it up. "Here, try this."

Rowan rolled his eyes but leaned in to take a bite, lips brushing Oliver's fingers. The sweetness of the strawberry exploded on his tongue, but the warmth in Oliver's gaze was even sweeter.

Something shifted in the air between them. Something inevitable.

Oliver cleared his throat, his usual playful smirk faltering. "So... I was thinking. Maybe it's about time we make this - us - official."

Rowan blinked, heat rising to his face. "Official?"

Oliver smirked, but there was a nervous edge to it. "Yeah, you know. Boyfriends and all that."

Rowan's heart skipped a beat, and a slow smile spread across his lips. "You sure you can handle that? I'm kind of a handful."

Oliver chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think I can manage."

Rowan hesitated for only a second before reaching out, grabbing Oliver's hand and lacing their fingers together. Oliver exhaled, his grip firm, thumb brushing gently over Rowan's knuckles.

"You're serious about this?" Rowan asked, his voice quieter now, laced with something deeper.

Oliver nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. I mean... I've known for a while that I wanted this. That I wanted you. But I didn't want to push."

Rowan's chest tightened, warmth spreading through his veins. "You weren't pushing. You were just waiting for me to catch up."

Oliver grinned. "Well, genius, glad you finally did."

Rowan pulled him closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, me too."

They stood there for a moment, surrounded by the hum of the market, the scent of fresh fruit and baked bread filling the air around them. And then, with a newfound certainty, Rowan leaned in and kissed him - soft, slow, a promise of something real.

Oliver melted into it, one hand resting on Rowan's waist, the other cupping the back of his neck. When they finally pulled apart, Oliver grinned breathlessly. "I'm totally buying you a bottle of champagne for this."

Rowan laughed, his fingers still resting against Oliver's wrist. "You're such an idiot."

"Yeah, but I'm your idiot now."

As they walked through the market, hand in hand, the world around them felt a little brighter, a little more alive.

This wasn't just a vacation anymore.

This was the start of something real.