After filing his company for bankruptcy, Kyle's wife leaves him and his three-year-old son. Now a forty-two-year-old divorcee with no parenting skills or money, Kyle decides to move back to the small home town he grew up in.
He should have lost all...
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The two men had gone to bed with Otis. The toddler had spent the next few hours asking random questions and playing with both their hairs. As always, Kyle grew tired of the play fast and turned his back on Otis, making the boy focus most of his attention on Chaska who didn't do the same.
As Kyle listened to the two talk his thoughts trailed off, remembering the sure look on Chaska's eyes when he had told Kyle that he didn't believe that he cared about him that much. The statement not only hurt Kyle, but it made him worry. There had been overwhelming hurt behind the younger man's eyes as he had said it, and Kyle believed most of his front to be a coping mechanism.
He sighed into his pillow, adjusting his position in hopes that he would sleep, but it didn't work. His mind was too busy. It bubbled with conspiracy theories about Chaska's past. He knew he couldn't ask the younger man about it directly, but that knowledge alone wasn't enough to quench his curiosity.
Soon, Otis babblings were mute, and Kyle turned to see if Chaska was asleep yet. The younger man wasn't. His eyes were wide open, and he had turned to face Kyle.
"You're awake," Kyle muttered, turning so that he was resting on his side and staring at Chaska. Otis was fast asleep in the man's hands. The boy's low sighs dotted the silence that was left when Chaska didn't respond to Kyle's words.
The two kept staring at each other. Ice-blue eyes staring into deep-brown ones.
"You seem restless," Chaska said, reaching out his free hand until his fingers touched Kyle's cheek. "Is there something you want to ask me?"
Yes. Kyle closed his eyes. He was glad that he hadn't said that out loud. Chaska needed space, and he had promised himself that he would be patient—that he would wait until the younger man was comfortable with him fully.
"Kyle?"
Kyle blinked, realizing that he had spaced out. His eyes flickered to the hand that the younger man had on his face. He reached to take a hold of it before closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. "Chaska, don't feel like you have to tell me anything you don't want to."
Kyle opened his eyes to find Chaska taking in his features. The younger man's brown eyes glimmered under the white light of the fluorescent bulb. Chaska licked his lips, letting out a sigh before pulling his hand away.
"You know, most people would have been offended by what I said in the kitchen," Chaska said, recalling the short spat they had while the dark-haired man had prepared dinner. "You just look like I kicked you in the gut instead. It makes me feel guilty," Chaska mumbled, and Kyle looked down between them, not knowing what to say. Otis was still fast asleep with both his hands hugging on to one of Chaska's arms.
"I—" Kyle paused, sighing. He wasn't sure what to say.
"Usually, I wouldn't care," Chaska said, making Kyle look up at him. "I don't know. There's something about you that makes me care. I don't want you to be worried about me," Chaska continued saying. He let out a small gasp as if he was shocked by his own words.
