Lost In Love (vol. 1)

Standing On The Edge Of Goodbye

"Scream at the sky but no sound, is leavin' my lips
It's like I can't even feel, after the way you touched me
I'm not asleep but I'm not awake, after the way you loved me

I can't turn this around, I keep running into walls

I can't break down."

= Sleepwalker, ADAM LAMBERT

The pack landed with a heavy thump in the back of the pickup as Nate jerked it off his shoulders and threw it over the wall of the bed. On the passenger side of the truck, Kyle slowly removed his pack and Nate could feel his eyes on him. He refused to look at the guy. At all.

Dragging off his thick jacket, Nate stuff it behind the back of the bench seat in the cab of the pickup then climbed in behind the wheel. He dug out his keys and rammed the ignition key in so hard he half expected it to snap off. A slow, throbbing ache crawled up his forearms as he gripped the steering wheel until the skin of his knuckles began to whiten. Another ache coiled in the crook of his jaw and slithered up through his cheekbones, into his temples and upward to settle in the front of his skull. He tried to breathe, sucked at the brittle morning air, but his lungs labored to draw it in, causing his chest to squeeze until it seemed it would cave in and crush his heart.

Kyle's pack thunked in the back of the truck then the passenger door opened. Nate's fingers tightened around the steering wheel as the guy climbed up on the seat and closed his door. The weight of Kyle's stare was a pressure pushing on him, nearly crumpling him against the driver door. His face crystallized and a cold heat rushed up through his face, prickling his hair line.

Fuck! He cranked the key hard. The engine growled and refused to turn over. "Fucker!" He hissed between clenched teeth. He cranked the key again and stomped on the gas, but the pickup simply growled at him again then died. Nate slammed his fists against the steering wheel "Motherfucker!"

"It's just cold." Kyle spoke suddenly, quiet. "If you keep stomping on the gas, you're just gonna flood it."

"Did I ask you?" Nate snapped viciously, still refusing to look at him.

"I'm just saying..."

"Well don't." Nate bit tightly. "Just keep your fucking mouth shut for once in your life."

What Kyle said about the truck was right, and it just pissed Nate off even more. He worked with the truck rather than against it, and it finally caught and started. He nursed the gas pedal until the engine warmed up a bit, then switched on the defrost and waited for the ice and snow to begin to slid down the windshield. He twisted the wipers knob and they stuck for a moment, then broke through the snow packed down on top of them. Nate clenched his teeth and watched the wipers shove the melting snow to the edges of the windshield.

He stomped on the clutch and dropped the truck into gear, being careful to switch from clutch to gas so the truck wouldn't stall, then turned it around and pulled out onto the gravel road. The tension clutching his body and mind urged him to grind the gas pedal into the floor and get them the fuck off the mountain as fast as possible, But he wouldn't take the chance of sending them over a cliff just because he was pissed off at Kyle.

Or maybe he was really pissed at himself – for being so fucking gullible. He'd known Kyle was keeping something from him, not telling him the truth about what was going on. And still he let himself get sucked in.

Literally.

He groaned inwardly at the unbidden thought that sent images from the previous night snapping through his head. His body responded instantly and the crotch of his jeans tightened. What the fuck is wrong with you? He screamed silently. The bastard used you and you still want to fuck him?!