Rio Grande Forest, Colorado, 2010
Luke purchased the derelict cabin in Gunnison through a real estate agent, using one of Damian's many fake IDs. He paid the full asking price of $45,000 and told the uninterested sales rep that he was Darren Holmes, a writer who intended to stay over winter to finish his book.
That seemed a plausible enough story and unlikely to raise any suspicions.
They avoided being seen together in the towns that flanked the thick forests of the Rio Grande. One would go into a store while the other remained in the van with the baby; staying out of sight.
They purchased enough supplies and building materials to last them through two winters because Noah wanted to avoid having to make unnecessary trips into town.
It was better that the locals simply forgot about the strangers, seemingly unconnected who just happened in one day.
It was in Noah's nature to always be prepared; to pre-plan, organize.
The cabin was set far away up in the hills; in as remote an area as it was possible to get. The roads were almost impassable and kept clear more by herds of cattle and deer than by any form of vehicle.
But somehow the van made it there.
When they first arrived at the cabin, their hearts sank. The one-room wooden structure was more neglected than they'd expected; riddled with a leaky roof and freezing drafts that meant a few nights were spent sleeping in the van.
They worked tirelessly for a month fixing the place up; installing new windows and doors and waterproofing the roof.
Luke, who spent his childhood bemoaning his chores on Snyder farm suddenly found himself grateful for another of the many things his adoptive father, Holden, taught him.
They finished up just in time for the cold to arrive and hem them in to what became a cosy haven, at least for a little while.
There was no electricity. The only heat came from a small fireplace in the tiny living area and kitchenette. For food, they would fish and set a few small rabbit traps; keeping dry stock in the cupboards flanking the walls.
...
Firelight danced on one side of Noah's face where he sat, knees bent, across the lone floral sofa. It was old and battered; discovered in a junk yard on their way out of town.
But it served its purpose.
In the crook of his arm, chubby fingers pawing at the book Noah read to him, sat Leo; fascinated not so much by the subject as by the soothing tone of Noah's voice.
Luke stood listening in; enjoying the rare scene of contentment as the fire crackled merrily.
"Rabbit look up, she looked mighty wild," Noah read. "Dog took after 'er and they run for miles."
Leo peered up at Noah, reaching up to touch Noah's chin as it moved.
"Rabbit look up, she looked might brown," Noah smiled down at Leo kissing the child's fingers; wonderment in his eyes.
Luke still couldn't quite believe it. Noah was a father. It was incredible and terrifying and beautiful all at the same time. It made his vision blur.
Noah noticed Luke standing there and smiled at him. Luke's breath caught in the back of his throat.
God, I love you.
Noah dropped his gaze to continue reading. "Said yes, by ned, I can out run a hound."
Leo burrowed into Noah's chest; yawning, little eyes struggling to stay open. The heat and flickering light from the fire was an excellent way to lull a child to sleep, they'd discovered.
"Rabbit looked up, she looked might po', said yes by ned I'm a headin' for my hole." Noah's voice dropped as the child drifted off. But Luke sensed a change in his mood. Noah's voice was now a sullen whisper, "Run, little rabbit run, run, run. Yon' comes a man with big shotgun." It was only when two tear drops bounced down Noah's face that Luke realised the man was crying, "Run, run little rabbit, run."
"Bubby?" Luke asked softly.
Noah didn't look up; just shook his head from side to side.
Gently Luke took the child from him. "Come on, Son. Time for bed."
He left Noah to place Leo in his cot, taking time to carefully cover him in blankets and make sure he was warm enough.
When he returned, Noah was sitting hunched over with his face hidden in both hands.
Without saying anything, Luke sidled in beside Noah and held him, stroking his hair. He understood that this time the tears had little to do with the upset in their lives and all to do with the death of Noah's father, Colonel Winston Mayer.
It was about time too. Noah had been hording his grief for so long Luke had begun to worry about it. It was as though Noah felt guilty for feeling anything for the man who'd so abandoned him.
Luke kissed Noah's tear-streaked cheeks, humming a nonsense tune to soothe him; letting Noah know it was okay to cry. Luke didn't need him to be the strong one all the time. Luke was there to support him, too.
He waited for Noah to empty the pain; weep for a man, who certainly didn't deserve the love his son held for him. And then Luke gave himself to Noah; as he always would, for as long as Noah needed him.
They were connected before, but now they were bound by things far stronger; a situation beyond their control; a child who needed them; and the truth. In their manufactured world, Noah was the only person who knew Luke's true identity and vice versa.
Noah was now such an intrinsic part of his world, Luke wondered whether it would actually keep spinning, if Noah ceased to exist.
Luke shivered at the thought and that made Noah pause in his movements. He arched up to stare down at Luke.
"What is it?" he breathily asked, face flushed with desire. "Did I hurt you?"
Luke teased Noah's hair away from his eyes and shook his head. "No," he groaned as Noah shifted slightly and a bolt of pleasure rushed over him. "No, I'm good. Don't stop… Feels amazing…"
"I love you so much, Luke," Noah gulped. "Do I tell you? I mean… do I tell you enough?"
Luke smiled, lifting up on his elbows to capture Noah's lips with his own. "All the time… every day… you don't even have to say it, Bubby. I know by the way you look at me... the way you touch me..." He scratched a nail below one of Noah's nipples. Lightly, barely touching, Luke drew the nail upward, downward, circling, feeling the tiny nib rise hard and Noah gasp. "But right now I want you to show me."
Noah's eyes darkened as he pushed Luke's legs further back and slowly, deeply, rocked them both through to completion; occasionally latching with teeth to the hollow of Luke's neck.
Noah's arms went tight around Luke and the heat of him; combined with the fire; engulfed Luke like the breath of a dragon.
"You kill me Luke…" he whispered, face buried in Luke's hair.
Luke palmed at Noah's warm shoulder, fingers trailing up the back of his neck. Noah shivered above him.
"Sometimes," Luke whispered back. "I wish I could keep you inside me. I wish I could take you with me and keep you safe, always.
Noah shifted sideways onto one elbow; lifting himself up from the folds of the sofa so he could rest his head in one hand and look down at Luke. "Being with you is the only time I ever do feel safe."
Serenaded by they crackling fire combining with the night-time tunes of the forest, Luke turned his face to the warmth of Noah's naked chest, clinging tightly to his solidness.
Noah smelt rumpled with sex and shed tears and his own unique sleepiness. It was comforting. Luke pulled Noah's head down; and they arranged themselves on the sofa, listening to each other's breathing mingle with the rustling of forest leaves, until they fell into a satisfied sleep.