On the Mountain

by Riley Hart

Crow The mountain is my home, the only place that truly suits me. I reveled in my solitude…until Cyrus

wearing a pair of threadbare jeans with paint on them, work boots, and a tight black T-shirt. Whoever the fuck Crazy Crow was, it was clear the man spent a lot of time either working out or doing manual labor.

No one else had ever been inside it, not since I’d torn it down and rebuilt it. The walls had only known me, and now I’d brought this man here.

“I’m sorry I invaded your mountain…and that I hurt my ankle, so you felt like you had to bring me here. I know this is sacred to you—your home. I’ll go as soon as I’m done.”

“Are you queer?” I asked. Was this just about fucking me? Crow frowned. “I’m…nothing.” What did that mean? He was ace? Didn’t feel attraction? Didn’t crave sex? Or maybe… “You’ve never…?”

He was sad, though. He wasn’t comfortable. I’d hurt him, made him feel even more empty and alone than he had before.

We settled into a routine over the next couple of days. Neither of us mentioned Cyrus leaving. I couldn’t figure out why he didn’t want to, what was keeping him here with me.