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The dry heat in the desert does nothing good for Neil nor Todd.
It's the type of heat you can only find on mountain tops or the plains of some sandy biome. It's suffocating with no breeze to help cool them off, it's so hot that sweat and sand stick to their skin as they trot along .
They're just supposed to be tracking the cattle migrations, mapping it down to bring back home and let the hearders know when and where to look when they need to rangle in a few new bucks. But the days have gotten longer and night has been more of a brutal chill than they had hoped for.
It seems as though, through this trip, everything Todd has planned has inevitably gone wrong. The weather has been inconsistent and frankly, a nuisance. The horses have both been attacked during one of the nights and sustain what looks to be wolf bites to the thigh, causing them to spend a few nights tending to the wounds which set their trail behind a few days. And, for the cherry on top, one of the canteens they packed got knocked over, spilling a day's worth of water.
Not to mention the fact that they planned for chilly nights and not the frigid cold they, most nights, have started to fall asleep too. Sure, they have shared a tent. They have shared the same blankets for warmth. They often hold each other to sleep and offer silent swipes of thumbs on the other's nuckols when the nights get rough and the wind whips too violently.
But that doesnt stop the brutality of their travels. It doesn't wash away the sting of waking up and having to disconnect their intertwined fingers, having to wake up warm and happy only to blame it on the night before, with the cold or the wind.
It doesn't stop the long days following cattle and charting their course through sweltering heat. It doesn't stop the even longer moment before they go to bed where they stare at each other across the fire they built using tumbleweed and twigs.
It doesn't stop the fact that Todd gets the pleasure of calling Neil his ‘partner’ every darned place they stop at. Saloons, hostels, anything. It's always “me and my partner here”.
It doesn't stop the constant heartbreak Todd has to go through each day, fighting to not blurt out the things he loves on Neil. The way sunlight dances through Neil's hair, dragging out the hidden auburn in his dark brow. The way his cheeks flush at any little compliment Todd throws his way.
Because that's what this partnership is, a brutal reminder to Todd of all things he could almost have. Fingers brushing on gold tipped hair, washing away the cracks of dried sand on skin. Almost. It mutilates his heart, rips it to shreds. Its of all the things he wishes to have, this trip is torture for all the things he thinks and have thought. The terrible reality, Todd realizes, Of loving another man.
But the torture doesnt stop, each rising day. Sun, gold, blood and gash. This torture doesnt stop the thump.
Thump thumpthump noise that Todd's heart makes every time Neil smiles and shows him those perfect teeth or the lips that fold over them. The terrible pounding that his chest makes every time he wakes up hand in hand with Neil. Like thunder over the plains, thump. Thump. Thump.
It certainly doesn't stop when Neils horse, Vega, falls over due to exhaustion. Or the nights that follow: Todd huddled over Neils hurt leg and constantly changing the cloth all while Neil just smiles up at him and holds onto Todd's arm as a stabilizing force. Neils face contorted into tight lines to contain noises of hurt that would escape. White pure cloth, White pure teeth. Red sinful blood, red sinful lips. It drives him mad, each night. Healing in exchange for purity. Every now and then a whimper escapes Neils mouth, leg moving slightly too much. And It destroys Todd's senses, it keeps him up at night. Waiting and waiting for Neil to roll over and make one of those heartbreaking wimpers that drive Todd to the brink of insanity.
On particularly bad nights Todd spends most of his time wiping tears from Neils eyes. Whether it's due to the pain or the overall stress of their trip, Todd gently swipes away the tears, tugs Neils' chest to him, and focuses on the way his whole body envelopes Neils when he pulls him close. Nothing could stop the mornings after those tough nights, emotionally exhausted and waiting for something else to go wrong, where he can only focus on the light in the tent, where he can see golden sunlight stream through the flaps and just know that with the gradual healing, there's something else they're going through. Maybe its the exhaustion speaking, maybe its a deeper part of himself he hadn't let speak before, but he knows that they are not the average partnership. Because Todd would give anything to see Neils sleepy “morning after” smile, forever.
Brutality and love, violence and healing, its a never ending cycle in Neil and Todd's life. Every hand held wacked down by a force omnipotent. The elements, religion, a pack of wild hungry wolves.
My partner Neil, My partner Neil, My Partner Neil.
Vega gets better before Neil does, she's up before the sun rises on the sixth day, gently nosing at Todds hair as he spends a soft moment sitting in the still, sandy air. The sky is cloudless, subtle shades of pink and yellow begin to emerge as Todd can hear the near silent snores of Neil coming from their tent.
Its this gentle morning, this still air and painted sky that Todd realizes nothing can stop him from finally telling Neil all he feels. He thinks about it all day, as he helps Neil onto Vega, as he collects more dry wood for their fire, as they pick a place to rest. He needs to tell him. Needs to tell him everything he's ever felt, and hopes his own dagger doesn't plunge into his chest.
The orange light glowing on his face. The dark brown of his hair lighting up at the edges, the gold in his eyes being brought out by every flicker of light that passes. Neil in all his golden glory, he'll tell him, “My mama may never now your name,” Todd whispers, looking into Neils eyes. Praying, hoping to see that shimmer of gold he keeps hidden in the flakes of his irises. Neil smiles, he keeps his hands on the flask of whiskey. Fingers clenching around the nose and fiddling with the cap.
He's holding back, Todd realizes, Too shy, not daring enough, not letting himself hope. Maybe Neil is in his same position, feeling but not allowing himself to feel what they could be. They're scared, for the same and different. They're afraid.
“And your pa may never see you again, but I can't look at your eyes over our fire for another night without askin’ you.” Todd hesitated, words he'd never thought would be spoken out loud are dancing on the tip of his tongue. Not falling, not cutting. Dancing.
Its happy but insecure all at once, there are crowds of others watching, brown eyes with gold flecks in each of them. It dances, the words, as all the eyes can tell. There's a grace in the movement, but it's still jilted. Sharp on all edges it should be soft. The movement is jagged and sporadic, but flowing as freely as allowed.
Todd's eyes are downcast as he says the rest, as if he can brave the feel of the hot flame on his face more than the burn in his heart if Neil is anything less than understanding. “I have to ask you, if you feel this same stampede, thunder, beating in your heart for me that I feel for you,” Todd's hands are placed over this heart, clutching and clawing their way through his own skin. He presses them there as if the blood he might have clawed out is gold and needs to be kept in his body. He feels like if he were to remove the pressure, this golden light might spill through the cracks between each finger, it might give away more feelings than he wishes to convey. He holds it there, he holds his heart there. A steady rhythm. Thump. Thump. Thump.
He can feel the gold drip past his palms, gold like the sun over the desert hills, gold like ichor, gold like Neils face in the morning as the sun rises, “and maybe it's not normal or god bound, but there's this impossible urge that I can't ignore any longer. I have this, this desire to just hold you for longer than a minute in the morning, to feel every crack and scar on your hands or to touch my lips to the bridge between your eyes.”
It's a gift to him, to Neil, Todd realizes. This gold he's bleeding is for Neil. The gold is Neil. It's all the feelings he's had through the years, golden and brilliant and pure . Rich. It doesn't startle him to realize he would bleed a lot worse for Neil, anything he asked.
He doesn't add how much he wants to touch and know every scar and its story running on Neils body, how he wants to run his fingers down the tendons of Neils arm. How he wants to feel the way his bicep tightens when reeling in cattle or feel it loosen as he falls asleep.
Neils hands, raw and calloused from the rope of his lasso, curl around Todds fingers. Reaching above and above the small spark of firelight they have left. The bottle of whiskey is discarded. The smell still lingers in both of their mouths, on their lips. It's a language that Neil and Todd have learned to speak, talk with touch, feelings through actions.
Todd opens his mouth to add more, to add what? That Neil is perfect? That he could spend years crossing the tongue shriveling heat just to spend more night staring into the others eyes? That Neils eyes are indescribable and if he could only hold Neil for a minute before the fire burns out completely, that it would be enough?
But Neil cuts him off, distance crossed and hands intertwined. “God be damned, for if this thing I feel for you is condemnable I don't know worship.” Neil whispers, “but I do know you . And you, Us is a thing I will worship.” It's indiscernible on who leans in first.
Their lips brush, the straw thin line that's between them holds all of what they've been through. If one leans in then all their travels have been for naught. They would have to hide from the world, they would have to go rogue. The cattle they have been tracking would be lost, it would just be known as any other migration. They would never be able to show their faces to a church or their homes again, tainted is what they'll become. Tainted for what they did, tainted for remembering it, longing for it, years after what's about to occur, occurs.
Or, a worse fate. They'll have to spend the rest of their lives marrying women who they'll feel nothing for. The brush of lips against perfume that would be nothing like the burn of whiskey and fire wood.
They would be dead for all the others, they would have to stay dead. But they could be alive together. Forsake their parents, forsake their god. Forsake the beliefs they have grown up upon and take their horses and live for eachother.
What is god compared to boys and lassos? Who is god if he punishes those who are so full of love for eachother?
What are fathers and mothers if they cannot allow their boys to live and be happy? What are fathers if they beat their sons into men or mothers if they scream words of fear into the righteousness of their boys?
What is Neil without Todd? And what is Todd without his love?
They would be dead, and they would live happier, longer. “We’ll have to die, Neil.” Todd says, scared. Excited. Breath still hitting Neils lips. “What is death if not living without the bounds of life? For you, Todd, I would have died long ago.” Neil, leans in even more.
Todd can almost taste his freedom
“We can never return.” Todd says, voice light.
“Good.” Neil says, finally closing the distance.
All the nights, short stunted kisses on shoulder blades came to this moment. All the mornings of gentle rousing by the feel of someone's fingers in his hair came to this moment.
Neil and his sunshine smile and moonlight eyes. His , Todd's mind can only whisper. Deep in his core he had a feeling, a hankering for something more. Something he only assumed to be women all those years ago. But maybe it was this . Soft lips on his own, strong forearms straining with the tightness they clasp their hands together.
Maybe his hankering wasn't for the touch of a woman at all, maybe it was for the touch of a man. A man he loved . And all the stars and their destiny’s be damned.
And damn the god that condemns them. And the fathers and mothers that made him feel like he was wrong.
You're wrong boy, you're wrong. And if you get in that damned horse i'll make sure you realize just how wrong you are.
But he got on that horse and realized just how right it all was, because Neil and his gentle fingers and soft hair is nothing less than a blessing. Todd doesnt know faith or god, not since Neils lips brushed his and all else was shattered, but he does know worship. He knows worship in the air they breathe between each other when their lips disconnect. Or the golden shine in Neils eye when he leans in for another kiss.
He knows it in the chill of the air when they separate and then the heat as he leans in again to plant a kiss in-between Neils eyes.
And then he laughs, the weight of reality smashing into him. The unavoidable crush of realization for what he had just done. He wonders if his death will be like the stories the catholic church told, burning and endless flames. Or would it be like the flames he watched Neil over, warm and bright. Lighting up the tips of his hair and bringing out the gold of his eyes. The fire was his apple, the temptation was Neil, but what is evil if not love?
He kisses Neil again, biting the apple. He's a sinner at his core, but Neil looks like nothing if not faith. The orange glow of the fire had not burned out and Todd had kissed himself into a stupor resting his head onto Neils lap.
“Eternal damnation,” Neil says, calloused hands tipping into the roots of Todds hair, “what a life, hunh?”
They laugh together, voices chimed as symphonies. As if they are the choir of gods only church and the voices are that of the many other men and women who love each other as they love each other. That's a fact. It's as true as the cattle that have been moving east, or the night becoming colder. Its as true as Neils lips are soft and his arms are strong. It's true as his leg has been healing and so has Vega.
They love each other and the stars that clink on the other's boot. They love each other and the leathers that adorn their skin. They love each other because that's all they can do, all they want to do.