WHERE TO NOW? (M/M) 18+

Chapter 3

First Words.

    The afternoon light blinded him as his eyes fluttered open, taking in the grainy timber ceiling, feeling comfortable for the first time since he left Jordan. It took a moment before he realised he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Sitting up as he searched his eyes around the room.

   He laid on a bed in the centre of a small room. The right side containing a single cracked open window, with a sheer curtain, swaying with the power of the breeze seeping in. A timber dresser to the right on the wall ahead of him, with books and a vase of flowers resting on-top. In front of him, was a door.

    Dazed, he dragged his legs off the bed, slowly making his way to the door. He turned the knob, peeking his head out before walking out completely. He stood in the hallway, looking to his left, noticing a crackly fire in an old, stone fireplace. "Hello?" He yelled, trying to determine if he was alone.

    He walked down the hall, clutching at the throbbing wound on his side, wincing at the pain.

    Once he entered the open space, his eyes were immediately fixed on a young man sitting on the couch, pointing a hunting rifle at him.

    He was wearing a red flannel with a black undershirt and faded blue jeans, his brunette hair was a round scoop of sorts that fell loosely above his chocolate brown eyes. He was a slender boy, slim fit for a guy his age, he looked at least about 19, maybe 20. His hands steady, as he held the weapon in his boney fingers.

    Damiens eyes widened as his hands rose in surrender. "Don't shoot.. Ah, how did I get here?" He asks. "Why were you in my yard?" The boy responds bluntly. "I was looking for supplies, so I-" He was cut off by the stranger. "So you cut a hole in my fence, and just climbed on through?" He said, annoyance and sarcasm lacing his tone. Damien nodded compliantly before stating "I didn't know anyone was here.. if I had known-" He interrupted again "You wouldn't have come? I doubt that… That looks pretty serious" He says, pointing his gun down at the injury. Damien looked at it before his attention was drawn back onto the stranger.

    Silence filling the space between them for a moment. He sighed "I'm Samuel." He stated, as he lowered his weapon and placed it on the timber coffee table. "Damien." He said, staring at the dog that was casually wagging its tail at him on the couch. "That's Bleu" He says, noticing his gaze.

    With that, Bleu jumped off the couch, making his way over to Damien and sat by his feet, happily staring at him. It was obvious how uncomfortable Damien was around him. He looked down at him. Not a very good guard dog. He thought to himself.

    "Alright, fine. I'll give you some supplies if you promise not to stab me." Samuel said. Damien only shrugged, not knowing how to respond. He didn't intend on hurting him but it was just a strange thing to say to a stranger.

    Samuel walked to his left, around the couch and into the small box of a kitchen. The rectangular archway showing the faded cream kitchen cabinets. He returned with a small medical box, extending his hand to give it to him. "Take this into there..." Gesturing to a closed door. "...and get yourself cleaned up." Damien took the box and thanked him, before making his way into the bathroom.

***

    Night had fallen by the time Damien joined Samuel in the living room. He had medical equipment scattered about on the timber dining table.

    "You'll need stitches." Samuel states as he sat comfortably at the end of the table, rubbing alcohol on a singular threading needle and continuing on to attempt to thread the tiny hole.