Joel tossed back and forth, entangled in the thin blanket he’d wrapped around himself, his mind unable to settle. Restless dreams took hold of him, dragging him down into a whirlwind of memory and dread. The crackling firelight flickered across his face, casting shadows that danced and shifted, merging with the half-formed images in his mind.
The murmur of his friends around the campfire a distant echo as his dreams took him somewhere far warmer, somewhere filled with a memory as vivid as it was fleeting.
In his dream, he was back on the rig, the low hum of machinery vibrating through the metal under his boots. Around him, the rig stretched out like an endless maze, corridors twisting and reforming as he ran. Oil dripped from the walls, pooling at his feet, the smell thick and cloying. The shadowy forms of his friends and coworkers appeared only to disappear, just beyond reach. The more he ran, the deeper he sank, the oil rising until it threatened to pull him under.
BOOM!
He was back in their small apartment, sunlight filtering through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Oliver was there, his arms wrapped around Joel, pulling him close, their breaths mingling as they shared a moment of silence—a quietness that only came with knowing someone fully.
Their fingers traced paths across each other's skin, soft laughter breaking the silence as they whispered things only the walls of that room would ever hear. Joel remembered the way Oliver's touch felt against him, each touch burning like it was something precious, and he held onto it as though it could keep him grounded.
In his dream, they moved together slowly, savoring every second, every gentle touch, as though they had all the time in the world. Joel could feel Oliver's heartbeat against his own, their bodies in perfect rhythm. It was tender, electric, a memory he’d carry with him forever.
He whispered, “I love you,” the words slipping out with a soft urgency, needing Oliver to know. Oliver’s eyes softened, a small smile playing on his lips as he replied in kind, his voice a balm to Joel’s heart.
The memory held him there, suspended in the warmth and intimacy of that moment. But just as quickly, it began to fade, the room melting away, leaving only shadows and the dull ache of missing him.
Joel's hand reached out in his sleep, grasping for the warmth that was no longer there, only to find empty air.
Then he was falling, followed by a breath. A sudden shift, and he was back on the shore of the Peace River, where he’d fished with Oliver. But this time, the river was dark and churning, full of whispers that tugged at his heart. He tried to call out, reaching for Oliver, but his voice was swallowed by the noise of the rising waters, by the relentless pull that promised to drown everything he loved. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and a quiet murmur escaped his lips as he twisted again, wrestling with the dream.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Then Oliver’s hand touched his heart. Joel looked around again, the sun dipped lower over the treeline, casting a warm amber glow over the water, Joel tossed another smooth stone into the river, watching the gentle ripples dance across the surface. A comfortable silence had settled between them, the kind that only came after hours spent together, side by side, where words weren’t necessary.
Oliver moved a little closer, brushing his hand against Joel’s as they both watched the river flow. Joel turned to him, catching the light in his eyes, and felt a sudden, quiet pull, like a current under the surface. He reached up, tracing the curve of Oliver's jaw with a rough but gentle touch, feeling the day’s warmth radiate from his skin. They exchanged a soft look, each knowing what was unspoken, before Joel leaned in, letting the warmth of Oliver’s lips meet his, the world around them melting away.
The kiss deepened, their laughter from earlier now softened into quiet signs, fingers interlacing as they let go of the day, leaning into each other fully. The river babbled softly beside them, a constant but gentle reminder of the flow and rhythm of their connection, simple and strong.
Joel looked over at Oliver, his voice softening, though his words held an edge of unguarded honesty. "I have made a million mistakes, and fuck, I know I’m going to make a million more. I’ve screwed up my life in more ways than one. But one thing I know wasn’t a mistake, and that was falling in love with you."
Oliver's gaze held steady, unwavering, as though he could see every crack and scar Joel carried but loved him more for it. He reached out, sliding his hand around Joel's, a warmth that felt grounding. "If those mistakes brought you here, to this moment, then I’d say you haven’t messed up nearly as much as you think."
A smile tugged at the corner of Joel’s mouth, half-relieved and half-overcome. He lifted his free hand to Oliver’s cheek, his thumb brushing over familiar skin. “You make me want to do better. Be better. Maybe even get a few things right.”
Oliver leaned into his touch, their foreheads nearly meeting, the weight of his words settling between them like a quiet promise. “You already have, Joel. You already have.”
And as their lips met once more, it wasn’t just a kiss—it was an acceptance, a reassurance that whatever mistakes they’d made before, and whatever they’d face ahead, this love was a certainty, one thing neither of them would regret.
Joel’s hand drifted lower, fingers brushing along the worn fabric of Oliver’s jeans, feeling the warmth of him through the denim. He paused, looking up to meet Oliver’s gaze—a silent question, and in return, a quiet nod. With a slow breath, Joel began to ease the fabric down, feeling Oliver’s breath hitch as he did.
They moved together carefully, each touch deliberate, as though savoring the weight of the moment. The coolness of the river breeze brushed over them, but all Joel felt was the heat between them, the way Oliver’s body responded to his touch. There was no rush, just a gradual closeness that felt almost sacred.
(SMUT PLACEHOLDER-See Patreon)