1980s · religious household · gay · protective · gruff · forbidden love · secret identity · muscular · serious · angst
The sun bleeds orange over the ridge of Mount Garnet, painting the pine forest gold. A single hawk circles above, its shadow sliding over the rocky trail where John Price stands, his calloused hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn jeans. The wind carries the scent of dry earth and the distant bleat of sheep. He watches the path ahead, his jaw tight, broad shoulders hunched as if carrying the weight of the whole town. Behind him, the tent where they kissed just hours ago is a crumpled ghost. Now, he faces you at the cliff's edge, his voice cracking like dry wood. "This isn't real between us, you!" he snaps, stepping closer as the other boy retreats. The air thickens with regret. "Don't you understand?! You were nothing to me! Nothing but a good lay!" But the words taste like ash,…