In Tune: The Road to Rocktoberfest 2022, page 8
Knowing he was gay was still Luka’s secret. He hadn’t told anyone. Probably he should feel his dad out, but Luka wasn’t ready for the conversation. For now, anyway, he held this new knowledge about himself close.
The door at the bottom of the lighthouse stairs was closed. Dean let out a little whoop of victory as he tugged on it and it opened.
“It was meant to be. Come on.”
Luka followed him, because of course he did. He and his dad had come to the lighthouse a lot when he was a kid, and he couldn’t count how many times he’d stepped off the top stair to the deck of the lighthouse But tonight, it felt different. He was with his best friend.
“Whoa,” whispered Dean as he crossed the small platform to stare out to the west.
Dusk was coming to an end and the sun was hovering for a second, just a sliver of fiery orange behind far-away islands before it slid out of sight. One by one, the stars winked on over their heads. Luka was fully aware the stars were never off, but it still seemed like some kind of magic when they appeared.
“I wish we had our guitars,” Dean muttered. “This seems like the perfect place to play some of those cheesy songs Aunt Marigold is always singing.”
“You mean Take Me Home, Country Roads?” Luka asked with a laugh.
Dean shrugged, not looking at Luka. “I guess.”
How long they stood there watching the sky, Luka didn’t know. Eventually, his legs got tired and he sat down, leaning against the lantern room wall. Dean joined him, squishing in next to him so their shoulders and legs were pressed together, and for a long time they didn’t say anything.
Luka wondered what Dean was thinking. All Luka could think about was how Dean made him feel… sparkly. It’d really been over the last year that Luka had come to the conclusion he was gay. It had been pretty clear when Adam Lambert started showing up in his dreams. But it wasn’t Adam Lambert Luka wanted.
He desperately wanted to see what it really felt like to kiss a boy. And he wanted that boy to be Dean Blanchett. Was Dean gay? Or bi? Sometimes Luka thought so, but he wasn’t sure and wasn’t about to just ask.
“Let’s tell ghost stories,” said Dean with excitement, oblivious to Luka’s inner conflict.
“Fine,” Luka agreed, shrugging, “but I don’t know any.”
“I’ll go first.”
Present Day
Dean
Dean’s flight out of Seattle was delayed by early November fog that had wrapped itself around SeaTac, where he’d changed planes. Finally, the smaller plane was coming in for a landing at the regional Hollyridge airport. The facility was small enough that it was only a few minutes after deplaning when he spotted Milo waving at him in the arrivals area.
“Dude, it’s good to see you,” Milo said as he grabbed Dean and gave him a tight hug. “I didn’t realize how much I missed your ugly face.”
Dean grinned, leaning back so he could actually see Milo. “I think I missed you too. Luckily, I’m not as ugly as you.”
Milo looked great, much better than he had at the end of his career with Lost Apostles, when all the shit between him and Sage had gone down and they’d both ended up leaving. At first, Dean wasn’t sure what was different about his friend but then he realized that Milo looked happy. Genuinely happy.
“Let’s grab your shit and get out of here.”
“Where’s Davey?”
Milo raised a dark eyebrow and began walking with Dean toward the baggage claim.
“I hope you don’t mind but… when the unholy alliance that is my fiancé and Skylar Jones found out you were coming to town, they decided to welcome you with cocktails and appetizers. Probably they’re experimenting on us, but I’m fine with that.”
Dean groaned. He did not want to be nice to a whole bunch of strangers, he just wanted to relax and not worry about meeting new people.
“Don’t worry,” Milo assured him. “It’s just a few of us, folks I think you’ll like, and for some reason, Sky thinks you need friends.”
“I don’t even know this Sky person.”
“Oh,” Milo laughed, “by the time you leave Hollyridge, you will.”
Dean had expected Milo to drive them to the house Milo had purchased just outside of Hollyridge. But once everything was loaded into Milo’s truck and they were heading away from the airport, Milo explained that he and Davey had turned the house he’d bought into a bed and breakfast. The two of them lived in what had been Davey’s house but was now theirs—together. Dean shoved aside the stab of jealousy he felt, reminding himself to be happy for his old friend.
“Davey’s got this safe dog run set up, one not even Elvis can escape from. We’ve done some stuff to the barn too, so it’s set up for socializing.”
Milo not only looked good, he sounded good.
They turned in at a low-slung rambler that sat a bit back from the country road it had been built on, and several cars were already parked in the driveway. Milo pulled to a stop next to a battered red pickup and turned off the engine.
“Hey, Milo,” Dean said as he popped his door open, “thanks again for inviting me.”
“Of course! Come on,” Milo said as he opened his door and began to get out. “I’ll show you around the B and B tomorrow or the next day, but for now, let’s get your stuff inside so we can get the introductions over with.”
It was weird to be back in his hometown but have his family gone. Dean’s dad and his second wife had moved to Pocatello, Idaho, and both sets of grandparents had passed away years ago. It was like he belonged but he was also a stranger. Pretty much how he always felt.
“You’ll get used to it,” Milo said when Dean mentioned how odd he felt. “Hollyridge has changed a lot since we were young. Back in the day, I never imagined I could be out and proud here, and people would accept me.”
Dean slung the last of his bags into the guest bedroom.
“Yeah? I’m glad to hear that at least.” If he got up the guts to come out as bi and things didn’t go how he wanted with Luka, maybe he could move back to town too. He mentally crossed his fingers. Please let him figure out how to fix things with Luka.
Even before they reached the barn behind Milo and Davey’s house, Dean heard the howling of Elvis, Milo’s Husky.
“We should get Elvis and Frank together sometime,” Dean said. “I wonder if they’d remember each other?”
“I bet they would,” Milo snorted. “A better question is, do we want them to remember each other?”
Milo slid the barn door open and from over his shoulder, Dean could see hay bales and a seating area with chairs and a battered but comfy-looking couch. From speakers hidden somewhere, the Bee Gees were singing How Deep Is Your Love, and someone with a very nice voice began singing along with them.
An older guy interrupted the singer with a gruff, “What the fuck is this?”
Rising from his chair, he crossed to where a younger person was laughing, their hand over their mouth. He snatched the cell phone they were holding out of their hand.
“Wallace, you said you wanted to listen to something from your generation.”
“Not this,” Wallace said as he proceeded to turn off the Gibb brothers and presumably search for something else.
The person bounced from their seat and all but skipped over to where Dean was standing with Milo.
“Hello, darling, I’m Sky.”
Sky held out their hand for Dean and he wasn’t entirely sure what the right thing to do was. Sky wore a pair of worn blue jeans rolled to the ankle and a pair of battered Union Jack Doc Martens. Their shirt looked like pink velvet—or some soft material like that, Dean was no expert—and tight enough for him to know Sky had a nipple piercing. Smiling and deciding to go with his instinct, Dean took Sky’s hand, turned it over, and gave it a butterfly kiss.
“Oh, my.” Sky grinned and fanned theirself. “See what a real gentleman is like, Wallace?”
“And yet, you married me,” Wallace said as the first chords of Sweet Child Of Mine oozed from the speakers. Handing the phone back to Sky, Wallace turned to Dean. “Wallace Kenton, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Your music isn’t terrible either.”
Dean chuckled, grinning back at the older man. “Thanks for the stamp of approval.”
If Dean had seen Wallace on the street, not only would he not have thought gay, he would have also pegged him as decidedly not, er, open-minded. Which just went to show that Dean needed to not judge people. Wallace looked to be in his late forties, he was bald, and his nose had been broken more than once. And, from the soft expression in his eyes, it was obvious he believed his partner was responsible for the sun rising and setting every day.
Dean wanted exactly that—but could he handle all that happy, even if Luka forgave him for years of idiocy?
“Don’t pay attention to him.” Sky shot Wallace a quelling glance. “We have Mine on replay at work. It’s my favorite.”
Davey Childs appeared from somewhere in the depths of the barn. Dean knew him slightly, only because it was hard not to know people around the same age in Hollyridge.
“Dean Blanchett,” Davey said with a grin, drawing Dean’s name out. “Who knew you and Milo would hit the big time? All that time you spent in study hall.” Milo smacked his partner in the shoulder. “Kidding. We watched that last show on YouTube the other night, you guys nailed it.”
“I really did spend a lot of time in study hall,” Dean told Sky and Wallace. “I never could figure out why they called it that. None of us studied.”
There was a warning, a scrabbling sound, before two, no—Dean corrected at second look—three dogs came barreling around the corner from where Davey had emerged. They were playing chase, and the teacup Yorkie seemed to be winning.
“Elvis,” Dean called out.
The Husky, nearly identical in size and coloring to Frank, stopped in its tracks and appeared to do a double take. A heartbeat passed and the next thing Dean knew, he was being lovingly assaulted by a seventy-pound dog. It was a good thing he’d braced himself because Elvis had quite literally leaped into his arms. Tears welled in Dean’s eyes—maybe he did need more friends if a greeting from a dog affected him this way.
“Oh, you are popular with everyone,” Sky cooed.
“Elvis, get your ass down,” Milo ordered.
Elvis quit licking Dean’s face long enough to shoot Milo a contemplative look.
“I mean it.”
“It’s okay,” Dean assured Milo. “But I am going to have to put you down, big guy.”
Elvis allowed Dean to set him back down although he shot Dean a disapproving glance. The other two dogs had ambled over to see what all the fuss what about, giving Dean obligatory sniffs before making it clear that they thought Elvis had some issues.
“That’s Bieber,” said Sky, pointing at the Yorkie, “and our beautiful girl right here is Jazz.”
“She’s homely,” corrected Wallace.
The white Pittie was the ugliest dog Dean had seen in maybe ever, but he wasn’t going to argue with Wallace. Homely it was.
“Okay, fine, she’s homely,” Sky huffed, “but she’s beautiful to us.” They clapped their hands twice in a staccato rhythm. “Alright, let’s get this party started! Rory said he and Brett might be here at some point, but there was something about story time, I didn’t ask for details. Knowing Rory it could have been for him or the bookstore.”
“Do you want a beer?” Davey asked. “Or we’ve got some homemade cider that’s amazing.”
Dean nodded. “A cider sounds great.” He’d been right to accept Milo’s invitation, it felt good to be there.
Minutes later, the five of them were seated around a propane heater. Hollyridge was definitely chillier at night than LA. Jazz and Bieber curled up together while Elvis leaned against Milo’s chair so Milo would pet him.
Dean missed his own dog but also knew he hadn’t been the best dog person recently. There was zero excuse, even if he’d been distracted. From traveling. From life. Right now, he was looking forward to just sitting around and shooting the breeze for a while. He could figure out later what to do about his life. And Luka.
Milo turned to Dean, who was stroking Elvis’s ears. “So… are we talking about Luka?”
Or maybe that later was right now.
“Oh? Do we need to?” asked Sky with a broad grin on their face. “Is this an intervention cocktail hour?”
Dean threw his head back and groaned.
“Okay fine,” Milo said with a laugh. “I’ll start easy on you. How’s the band? The new guy sounded good.”
“Kyle? Yeah, he’s good. Gets along with everyone.” Unlike the old vocalist, Sage, whose actions had nearly ended the group.
Dean spent a couple minutes filling Milo in on Lost Apostles gossip while Davey, Sky, and Wallace listened politely. It had to be boring hearing about people they weren’t at all familiar with.
“Let’s talk about something else besides the band,” Dean suggested. “How do you all know each other? I know Milo from school and Davey too, even though we didn’t have the same friends back then.”
Dean chortled when he learned Wallace owned the Stone Hut, a dive bar on the south end of town that was located directly across from the fairgrounds and notorious for cowboys riding in on their horses. It was also the first bar Dean had tried to get into with the fake ID he’d bought off the Internet when he was seventeen. It hadn’t worked.
It was possible that Wallace had been the one who’d snorted and handed back the ID with a “maybe in a few years, kid.”
“Yep,” Davey smirked. “Brewski and I stop in every year during the rodeo for a beer. I’m trying to get Milo to join us, but he insists on driving the truck. Spoilsport.”
“Look, cowboy. I am not a rider, not even on Brewski, and you know it.”
The smile Milo directed at his fiancé was much like the one Dean saw on Wallace’s face when he was watching Sky. Had he ever looked at his fiancés that way? Something told Dean he hadn’t. Luka was one person Dean might smile at like that—if he got the chance.
And, if he was being honest with himself, there was no might about it. It was Luka, and only Luka. He was the only person with whom Dean had ever been able to be his complete, true self. And what did that mean? Anything? Nothing?
It probably meant Dean was still an idiot.
“Earth to Dean? Bueller?”
Milo poked him in the shoulder, snapping Dean out of his thoughts.
“What?”
“Sky wants to know if you’re hungry.”
His stomach growled. “God yes. I don’t think I’ve had anything but airplane peanuts today.”
“Food first then. After that, we’re going to help you sort out your love life.” Sky rose from their chair and headed over to the corner of the barn where a pot of something that smelled delicious was simmering over a camp-style stove. “The chili is ready. Wallace, would you grab the corn bread from the kitchen?”
“While it’s true my love life is completely FUBAR, what do you know about it?” Dean asked while Wallace headed to the house for the corn bread. He wasn’t complaining, Dean realized he needed all the help he could get.
Milo whistled aimlessly, looking everywhere but at Dean.
Turning away from the chili he’d been about to stir, Sky waved a wooden spoon at Dean. “Enough to know you need a plan, and I, thankfully, am the person for the job.”
Luka
Had he secretly hoped Dean would follow him to Piedras? Was he really that much of a fool?
Tossing the covers aside, Luka swung his legs off his bed, his bare feet smacking against the chilly wood flooring. The clock on his nightstand informed him it was eight in the morning, and a glance out the window told him sweater weather had arrived and was staying a while. Gray clouds were stretched out over the water, some snagged like cotton wool on the craggy tips of the far islands.
Releasing a sigh, Luka stood up and crossed the room to open his closet door and dig out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Instead, he grabbed a pair of clean boxers at the last minute and headed to the shower to clean up. The last few nights he’d had hot, explicit dreams involving Dean and he’d woken up a mess. How was he supposed to stay mad at the man if every time he shut his eyes at night he was living out his deepest fantasies?
It had been a week since he’d left LA, the longest amount of time he and Dean had gone without talking in years. Maybe not even since senior year of high school. Dean had always been there, even when he was involved with someone. And now he wasn’t. Luka constantly felt like he was forgetting something and it made him feel off-balance. Maybe Dean could be oblivious and irritating, but he missed him anyway.
In his tiny bathroom Luka turned on the shower. He didn’t wait for the water to heat up properly, just hopped into the tiny shower surround and began to scrub himself down. Maybe the cold water would bring him to his senses.
“Come on, Frank. I need to get out of the house.”
Frank hopped off the couch and stretched, displaying no remorse for sleeping on the furniture, even though he had a very expensive dog bed. He was always ready to go for a walk, even before breakfast.
Once they were outside, Luka turned to the right and headed down the side of the road toward Brooch Resort. It was sort of early—for him anyway—but Ben likely would be at work already, and Luka could hang around in the lobby with a coffee and talk his ear off. He needed to hear Ben’s perspective on his imploding life.
Funny how life was. Ben and Dean were cousins, and they looked alike enough to be brothers, but Luka was absolutely not attracted to Ben and never had been. And their personalities couldn’t be more different. Ben was calm and rational where Dean was emotional and impulsive. Spock versus Captain Kirk. And Luka was more like Bones, always worried and exasperated and eventually forced to put everybody back together again when he was proven right.
