Western Sies

Western Skies - Chapter 6: Sacrifice and Solitude

December 2022

Love is like fire...sometimes it burns hot and bright, and sometimes it smolders, the flame invisible...alive, barely, in the form of a few dark coals...but far from extinguished.

Upcoming--one or two more chapters, depending on how the words write themselves out.

-D.

Notice: This story contains male/male sexual activity between consenting individuals who are over age 18. If this is not something you are looking for, leave now! Always practice safe sex (even if not depicted in this work of fiction).

©2022 Zorse_D

***

A throbbing, fiery pain radiated from somewhere deep within the recesses of my skull. Exhaling forcefully, I forced my consciousness to return to the world of the living, and opened my eyes.

It felt like needles were piercing my eyeballs, but eventually, my will to live prevailed and I managed to make my eyelids work once more. Hazy, bright shapes began to coalesce into recognizable forms, and I realized I was no longer in my pickup, but laying on a bed in some sort of room. Before I had more than a second to process where I was and what was going on, noise pierced my skull, eliciting an involuntary wince and forcing my tender eyes to blink rapidly.

"Hey bud. You sure did a number this time...that had to be one of the worst phone calls I've ever got, crack of dawn and the sheriff's office telling me you were in a wreck...ambulance to the hospital..."

Breathing deeply, I focused my still-blurry gaze on my dad, who was sitting in a chair nearby with an expression of intense worry on his lined face. His brow was furrowed and his lips pursed, but I could see the fear and anxiety slowly draining out of him as I regained signs of life.

"Hey, dad," I muttered, my voice hoarse from disuse. While the initial stabs of pain in my head had subsided, it still felt like iron bands were squeezing around my skull. Other sensations had started to intrude, too: my entire body ached and physical exhaustion weighed on my every breath. But despite the physical discomfort, it was the vague, lingering sadness within my soul that I noticed the most. Then it all came rushing back: the night with Luke up at Big Sky, the sudden intrusion of Luke's mother, the truck on the snowy road...a deer...flashing lights...

I sighed deeply, allowing the pain of the previous night's memories to race into every fiber of my being, displacing the aches like they were no more than paper cuts.

"How are you feeling? You look better than your pickup, at least," my dad inquired, a small smile forming on his face.

I groaned, embarrassed. "I'm an idiot, driving like that in the middle of a snow storm...at night...how long have I been out?"

"Well, it's six in the morning. Happy New Year, by the way. The doctor says you have a hell of a concussion, which is probably why you don't remember them dragging you in here in the middle of the night. After they figured out it was safe to let you sleep, you've been out since. Other than that, it's just bruised ribs and probably some whiplash. You're lucky you went off the road in a good spot--only about fifteen feet down a shallow hill and into a tree. You're also lucky you were almost out of the mountains and had cell service...your phone, at least, is smarter than you; it knew you crashed and called 911." My dad gave me a stern look and hesitated for a moment, before continuing. "You mind telling me what the hell you were thinking, driving like an idiot, apparently, in a snowstorm? In the middle of the night on New Year's Eve? Why weren't you in Big Sky with Luke's family?"

With a sigh, I avoided eye contact and instead focused on a nondescript framed photograph of an aspen tree across from me. It was the only highlight on an otherwise bland taupe-colored wall. The beeping of a machine and the shape of the bed I was on finally made me realize I was in a hospital room. I sighed again, trying to find words.

"I...Luke...me and Luke had an argument, I'm not sure we can be...friends...anymore. I was pissed off enough that I thought it was best to just drive home." My words had come out shaky, unsure...and then my eyes automatically snapped off the painting and quickly locked into my dad's, anxiety and shame welling up within me.

My dad raised his eyebrows, waiting in silence for me to volunteer more information. Part of me yearned to come clean, to unload everything that had been weighing on my chest since the moment I met Luke, to seek comfort through absolution. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Some fiery, stubborn kernel within my heart held back my tongue, clinging to my secret like it was the most valuable object in the world.

After a moment, my dad shrugged and stood up, stretching. "Well. We'll talk more in a bit, I'm going to go let the doctor know you're awake, see when we can go home....and I need to call your mother if she's still awake; it's the middle of the night in Melbourne, but when I talked to her earlier she asked me to let her know when you woke up. Then I need to call the insurance about getting your truck winched out...you'll owe me the auto deductible from your summer work, by the way...I'll be back around noon." He shrugged again, looking uncomfortable, like he had more to say, but he just shook his head absentmindedly and meandered past the bed.

At the door of the hospital room he paused, then slowly looked back at me with a half-amused, half-concerned expression. "You might want to check your phone, someone's been trying to get a hold of you." Then he was gone.

Heart racing, I scanned around for my phone, unleashing a blurry wave of pain and nausea. Cussing under my breath, I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing slowly until the stab of agony subsided. Moving slower this time, I located my phone on a small side table and waited for my eyes to adjust to the screen.

A dozen-odd social media notifications and texts reminded me it was a new year and that none of my friends or extended family knew what had happened. But it was the three new texts from Luke that made my heart skip a beat.

11:12..."Kaden I'm so so sorry, I just locked up, I was so freaked out I didn't know what to say, please can we just talk, I don't want to lose you but just need to figure this out I wasn't ready for my family to know!"

I snorted, bemused.

11:17..."Okay tomorrow, I'm driving back to Bozeman tomorrow, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'll come by."

Still not amused.

12:02..."It's not really a happy new year, is it, but please I'll call you tomorrow and let's talk. I just wasn't prepared for getting found out like that. I'll call you in the morning."

A twinge of sympathy flashed through my gut, but it was quickly hammered down by righteous anger. Luke had his moment, but couldn't man up and own who he was. Or stand up for what I thought I meant to him. I rolled my eyes and huffed out loud, doing my best to tear my attention away from the heartache in my chest and distract my churning thoughts with messages from friends and endless scrolling through social media. I didn't make it far before seeing a recent post from my mom, which tagged me and mentioned my accident, asking for "thoughts and prayers of thanks that it wasn't any worse." I snorted again, wondering if her public announcement could be considered what my dad referred to as "her tendency to mainline drama like it's a drug."

The effect of the tagged post reached me over the next hour, as my friends and family woke up, and the comments started rolling in. There was nothing better for me to do than scroll on my phone--wallowing in self-pity--or try and watch the morning news on the small TV in the corner of the room. The doctor came and told me I needed to "rest" until at least midday, and if they determined I was doing well, would be discharged home under the watchful eye of my father.

As I responded to texts and DMs, assuring everyone I was fine, some selfish part of me appreciated the attention as a welcome distraction from the emotional pain I told myself would soon fade away, just like the pain in my head and body had faded into a dull ache. But the other part of me was angry and ashamed. Ashamed at crashing my truck. Angry at what had happened in Big Sky. Ashamed at not being honest with my dad. Angry at myself for falling in lo--

A knock on the hospital room door yanked me out of the downhill spiral of my thoughts. "Come in."

For the first time since the previous day, genuine happiness threatened to tickle my mood. At the door was Evan, a trademark smile on his face.

"Do you have a death wish or something, you absolute fucking idiot?" were the first words out of his mouth, followed by, "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you're not worse off, but it's practically criminal they allowed you to trade in your Texas drivers' license for a Montana one."

I couldn't help but laugh at the playful verbal lashing I was receiving; I mean, Evan couldn't help but bring humor to any situation.

"You can just fuck the fuck right off, asshole," I retorted, "I'm just dumb, trying to drive home in the middle of the night. In the snow. On New Year's Eve."

"I'd say," Evan muttered, rolling his eyes. "So the obvious question is, why? I thought you were staying with Luke and Nora's family until tomorrow?"

My eyes again focused on the bland painting across from me, intent upon not meeting Evan's gaze. "I got in an argument with Luke and decided it was best to...get some space."

He looked half-skeptical, half exasperated. "And that's the story you're going with. Nothing more?" Evan raised his eyebrows, not unlike my father had done earlier.

A moment passed as I wrestled with the decision on how much to tell Evan. Finally, I decided that some more of the vague truth was my best path forward. "It was something personal. Private. A serious disagreement. Something like that. And I'm not sure we can move past it."

Evan's expression went from suspicious to downright amused. "So what is it about Luke that's got you by the balls right now, 'cause you look like a lovebird that's found trouble in paradise."

My jaw quite literally dropped and my eyes grew wide. FUCK. He had me, somehow.

"I...I didn't think it was that obvious..." I mumbled, looking down, not trusting myself to say anything more.

Evan smiled sheepishly. "It probably isn't obvious to anyone who hasn't been around you as much as I have. You know I'm not really a judgmental person. So whatever's going on, you can tell me. Based on how weird you've been, my guess is that you and Mr. Popular somehow got off to something. Or got each other off." He guffawed at his own joke, his eyes twinkling as he continued to stare at me, waiting for confirmation.

Fuck. I don't know how he figured it out, but he did.

"Fine. What you said. But I don't want to talk about it, I'm confused and just trying to enjoy things and not lose my sanity between school and sports and figuring out who I am. Okay? Fair enough?"

He looked gleeful. "Of course, bud. It's your life. Just know that I'm here for ya, alright?"

His response lifted my spirits somewhat. Evan really was a good friend, even for the short time I'd known him. I mentally sent up my thanks for being fortunate enough to get him as a roommate.

"You're the best, man. Thanks for not being angry or grossed out or anything." I shook my head. "I really don't know how you figured it out so easily, though. I thought it looked like we were just really good friends."

"Well," he said, speaking with slow deliberation, "My older brother, Liam, the one in college...he's gay. I got to see him dealing with everything, and he came out to me before the rest of the family. So I guess I know what to look for when someone's trying to figure out something important about themself."

"I don't even know if I'm actually gay," I said flatly.

"Maybe you aren't. Maybe you are. But you'll figure it out in time, and shouldn't sweat over the process. Just figure out what feels right to you."

Evan's cool logic slowed me down. "Thanks, guru. You gonna be a therapist or something?"

With a quiet laugh, he replied, "Just like looking out for others. But if he makes you shoot your load like a rocket to the moon, you know you're in good hands."

I threw my pillow at him, mortified, which made him laugh like a drunk hyena for longer than I thought was strictly necessary. Finally, wiping tears from his eyes, he caught his breath and fixed me with a pointed stare.

"So tell me what's been going on between you and Luke."

***

Thirty minutes later, Evan finally stood up, muttering that he had to go meet his visiting family for brunch. I'd told him everything about what was going on between Luke and I, save for the graphic details, and he'd listened like a true friend, only offering advice when asked. As he strolled towards the door, he stopped, giving up one last thought:

"Neither of you are perfect, Kaden. People freak out when something they fear like death itself blindsides them, like what happened to you and Luke last night. If he can't handle it in the long run, though..." Evan's voice trailed off and he gave me a sympathetic, questioning look. "You've told me a lot about what's happened and how confused and shitty things are. But do you love him?"

His forward, blunt question was like a bucket of ice water thrown over me. "Whaaa...what?"

Evan grinned and narrowed his eyes. "Do. You. Love. Him. It's a simple question."

The hotheaded part of me finally wrapped itself around the question, allowing me to compose a retort: "That's awfully direct isn't it, fucker? But I'm 18, how the hell am I supposed to know what love is?"

The grin on Evan's face widened and he cracked up. "That's one of the more intelligent things you've said this morning. But it's also complete bullshit. Tell me, how do you feel when you're around him? How about when you're away from him? And I'm not talking about the, uh, physical part of it."

I glared at Evan--now ignoring his question--but he only smiled wider, seemingly gathering his own interpretation of my response. Many long seconds passed. With a shrug, he finally decided to change the topic. "And I thought I had some holiday drama, I was gonna tell you about this girl I know from back home in California, ran into her over Christmas

and--"

But before Evan could finish his story, a loud knock on the door jolted us from our conversation.

"Come in," I said, curious.

The door opened, and before I even had time to consciously process who was there, my involuntary emotions responded with lightning-quick precision. Anxiety crowded round the outskirts of my thoughts as a gnawing, swooping sensation dropped into my stomach like a stone. And finally, my heart began to race.

Luke stepped into the room, and my breathing grew shallow while the aching pain in my head decided to direct a tendril of sharp fire down my spine, making me twitch.

My eyes reactively locked into his, and in the brief moment I allowed us to gaze at one another, I imagined I saw concern, pain, and misery reflected toward me from the frozen ice-gray pools of his eyes. My heart dared to think that the dark bags under them were because he couldn't sleep last night, after the argument. And maybe, his disheveled clothes and uncharacteristically unkempt honey-colored hair were the result of a hurried rush over to the hospital once he heard what happened.

But that couldn't be. Not after what had happened between us. The lines on my face tightened into a mask of impenetrable fortitude and I broke eye contact, fearful that if I looked too long I'd be tempted to never look away. Luke shuffled his feet uncomfortably, and out off the corner of my eye, I saw him look up and run a hand through his hair.

"Hey, Kaden, Evan," he muttered, clearly shaken.

Evan managed to draw my attention. He frowned, eyebrows raised, glancing between me and Luke. "I'll catch you later, Kaden. Let you guys...talk."

He walked out of the room, giving Luke some serious side-eye as he passed.

Wide-eyed, Luke looked back at me, confused.

"He figured it out," I said flatly, "So I told him everything."

Luke appeared taken aback at both my revelation and the bluntness of my tone, but he took a deep breath and recovered quickly. "This is my fault. They said you were okay, but still..." he trailed off and shook his head before continuing. "I fucked up, okay? Locked up and didn't know how to handle the situation 'cause I always imagined I'd have a plan before anyone in my family, besides Nora, found out about me. And you paid the price...I mean, shit 'Kade you almost died cause of me..." Luke's voiced cracked and I looked back at his face, unable to stop myself. Intense anguish and conflict seemed embedded in his visage, and despite my simmering anger with him, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity behind my navel. We'd been far too close for me not to react to his feelings.

The taut lines on my face relaxed somewhat and I sighed, allowing myself to relax a bit. "Luke...it happened, though. I appreciate what you just said, but that doesn't change reality. Your mom found out, and you couldn't stand up for yourself. For us. That hurts. Plus, what was that comment she made about it 'not being a phase'; what didn't you tell me?"

Luke's brow creased and he fiddled with his hands. "I know. It's hard to undo years of fear...she walked in on me jacking off a year ago and took my phone...saw it was some gay porn...not something I ever wanted to talk about. Ever." He looked down for a second, then scowled, his tone taking on a slight note of accusation. "But come on, how would you have reacted? You have it so much easier, it's not like you've told anyone...well, I guess Evan now, and Tristan from when he saw us in the shower...but your parents have no idea!"

A small pang of anxiety hit me, thinking of the looks and comments I'd received from my dad, but this was offset but my rising temper. "You think you have it tough, Luke? That this whole thing is about just you keeping a secret? What about me? Shit, I'll tell me dad exactly what's going on between us when he comes back to pick me up. I'll tell him that his son likes dick and I thoroughly enjoyed every time I got to fuck your ass! I'll tell him how you had me wrapped around your finger, that I didn't know how to handle it, but that I was an idiot to think this would end well."

Without realizing it, I'd swung my legs over the side of the hospital bed and stood up, my eyes narrowed and unblinking, staring directly into his. I stood there, breathing hard, months of passion fueling what some part of me knew was probably a major overreaction. But I didn't care. Everything seemed so fucked up now, every misgiving and doubt I'd ever had about us now unloaded on Luke. It was almost like the car wreck and knock on the head had lifted some sort of spell I was under, and for the first time I was seeing everything the way it really was.

So there I stood, nose to nose with the object of every strong emotion my body could muster, both good and bad. He stared back, silent, eyes wide and chest heaving. What felt like a minute passed. "Say something," I muttered, unnerved by his silence, my voice softer than it was before.

A tear emerged from one of his blue-gray orbs and ran down his cheek.

"I love you, Kaden, and it hurts so much to...for things to be like this."

There it was. Three words. Then my name.

The world seemed to tilt on its side and dizziness overcame me. Trembling, I sat back down on the bed. My head felt fuzzy again and a wave of nausea rippled over me. Anger melted away, flowing into the sky and dissipating like fog in the morning sun.

He loved me. While my mind tried to process the words I knew were true, reconciling them with the events of the past twelve hours, my body reacted in the only way it knew when Luke was around. Hot blood coursed through my veins. My skin felt warm and tingly, and my cock twitched slightly. Then the pain in my head returned, and cool reason, for the first time in our relationship, whispered in my ear.