Two men, haunted by their past, cross paths where the desert meets the sky in Big Bend National Park …
He turned and watched Michael pull the sleeping bag from behind the chair and fumble with the knot that held it rolled tight. He wanted to invite Michael to share his bed, which he had been thinking about most of the day. The proposal caught in his throat as the ramifications of sleeping with another man took hold of him. Make the suggestion, or keep going, get in bed alone, then likely face a night of regret, wondering what it would be like. He drew a breath … “It’s warmer in the bedroom.” Then a dry swallow: “I mean … well, the electric heater in there doesn’t do much good all the way out here.”
Michael looked up from the knotted string.
“There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
“You want me to sleep with you?”
“That’s not how I put it. Share the bed is what I had in mind.”
“Yeah. That’s what I meant. I just wasn’t expecting …”
Justin felt like a man about to cross a rickety bridge. “You won’t get so cold in there.”
“Okay.” Somewhat astonished, Michael tossed the sleeping bag on the couch.
They walked together into the bedroom. Justin turned on the small table lamp next to the bed, then the small electric heater. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched Michael pull off his jeans. “I remember you saying you don’t like wearing underwear.”
“No. Too confining,” Michael said, standing nude in the soft light.
Justin stood and stepped out of his jeans, leaving on the cotton briefs. “I usually sleep nude.”
“Me, too,” Michael replied.
Justin looked down at his briefs, debating, wondering what difference it would make since they had been naked together all day, hooking his thumbs in the waistband.
Michael watched him slide the briefs down his legs, then step out of them and walk to the other side of the bed, intrigued by his companion’s conflicts.
Lifting the crumpled sheet, Justin got in the bed and pulled the sheet up to his belly. Michael reclined on the other side of the bed. They laid on their backs staring at the aged wooden ceiling. The electric heater provided just enough heat to take the chill out of the room.
“Beats the couch, doesn’t it?”
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