💎A Collision of Fates💎 (Straight to Gay) (MxM) (18+)

78 - Nick

The coastal town of Sallow came into view in the afternoon.

The landscape had become one of rolling hills. The dense forestry that had been surrounding them for hours slowly dissipated into sparse bush and pine.

Nick spent most of the day staring out at the wilderness around them, his thoughts drifting lazily from one memory to another. Breck walked beside him, but they moved in silence. Warlan and Mikh shifted their position throughout the walk, growing restless. And, of course, as always, Henrov and Geer led the charge.

But Nick barely noticed any of them. With each twisted, withered, thirsty tree, every scattering of thick, jagged rocks, every scorched patch of brown grass, Nick fell deeper and deeper into his own mind.

Sally would've laughed at him. She would've smiled, chuckled, and moved on. A few months from now, she would've probably brought it up again, barely containing a giggle as she recounted the story. But, for some reason, Nick couldn't get it out of his head. That morning, Nick had woken up wrapped around Breck, his head resting on the other man's thick chest. Even thinking about it made his face go hot with embarrassment.

He had always been a little bit of a pillow-hugger. Mark had made fun of him for it, endlessly, in college when they had roomed together. But Nick liked having something to hold onto. Sometimes it was Sally, and sometimes a pillow had to do. This time, though, this time it had been a man.

Fuck.

A couple times during their southwards trek, Nick tried to say something. He felt the words in his mouth, all he needed to do was move his lips. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't talk to Breck. Whether it was the embarrassment, the awkwardness, or something else, his mind wasn't letting him talk to his buddy.

The sun was high in the sky, punishing the arid landscape, when they rounded over the top of one of the hills and the world sloped downwards towards the wide, endless, purple sea. The shoreline extended in both directions, until it disappeared behind the landscape. The beach was comprised of tiny, grey, sleek rocks.

The last time he had seen this ocean had been a few months ago, and it hadn't been an... ideal visit. He had managed to pull his son out of that costal cave after they had just finished one of their first encounters with The Golden Spire. His son had been about to die, had been close to death. The memory of that day still twisted his gut, filled him with boiling anger.

And now he was back by the ocean, about to face The Golden Spire again. Only, this time, it was on his terms.

But first, they would have to cross the purple sea. And The town of Sallow was their way across.

A dense, tightly-packed group of buildings clung to the edge of the vastness like a leech. The road that they were on curved downwards, moving towards the town. The thoroughfare was quieter than when they had left Sesstria, but there was still a healthy number of travelers and carts rumbling down the packed dirt.

"I expected something bigger," Warlan said, now walking beside Nick and Breck.

Mikh was on the other side of them. He squinted down at the town. "Sallow isn't a place you live in, as I understand it, it is a place you go through on the way to somewhere else."

That might have been true, but, even still, Sallow was a dense, busy harbour town. The buildings were squat and made out of brick, and they were packed together like sardines in a can. The roads were thin, crowded, and cobbled.

The six of them entered the town, puzzled their way through the maze of buildings and alleys, and spilled out onto the broad, sea-bordered harbour street.