Page 1 of Pippin & Nacho

I clawed at the stabbing pain in my bare chest, gasping for breath as my heart threatened to burst through bone and muscle. Then the dam burst. The tears always came after waking up from the horror of my nightmares and reflections of my past, reshaped into grotesque monsters. The tears were the residual effect of coming down from the adrenaline and the relief that I woke up safely in my home.

Fuck me.

I rubbed my tired eyes and glanced at the clock in my darkened room. It was after four in the morning, and the likelihood of falling back asleep was slim.

My nightmares kept a stranglehold on my life, breaking me down a little bit more each time. I was a rock, slowly being chipped away until I finally crumbled into tiny pieces. They were a constant reminder of what I’d gone through, never allowing my mind and heart to heal, even in my sleep. I wasn’t a smart man, but I recognized PTSD for what it was. My very existence was the cause of all my mental torment. If I’d never been fucking born...

The sudden movement in my bed washed over me in comfort, instantly steadying my heart and helping my lungs find air.

Nate wrapped a slender arm around me and pulled me back down into my bed, filling me with a strength I lacked. He held me close as he wiped away my tears and sweaty bangs, whispering soothing words. His kindness and friendship made me want to cry again, my trembling lip barely holding it together. I didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve anything. Yet, I held on to my best friend like a lifeline. He was the only reason I still walked in this world.

His dark curls tickled my face, and for the first time since I’d woken up, I smiled through my pain, inhaling scents of lime and coconut. I had the same scent since we shared body wash, but it smelled so much better on Nate.

“What would I do without you?” I whispered.

“Shhh… Go back to sleep, Sam.”

Nate dragged gentle fingers along my back, soothing me to sleep, but I couldn’t. I was wide awake now as the last hold of my nightmare slipped away. And whenever he held me like this, which was often, I’d look to my future, not in fear, but in hope. Nate gave that to me like a gift that kept on giving.

Nate, or as our friends liked to call him, Nacho, saved my life almost seven years ago. He was only fifteen years old at the time. He represented pure strength and resilience in the face of adversity while I cowered from it.

It would’ve been a lonely life without him. Neither of us had ever had a boyfriend. We only had each other. I loved him with a fierceness that would never be smothered, but my fear turned me into a coward, terrified of his rejection and disappointment should he learn the truth. If he left me, I would die from a broken heart. I couldn’t live without my Nate.

Who could ever love me back? Who could love someone as ruined as me? I was high maintenance, constantly needing to be kept on a straight path because I struggled to focus long enough to decide which direction to go in. It was better just to keep him as a friend.

We’d always been best friends, having been foster brothers for a year before Nate dragged me out of that hell house.

But what no one knew, other than Nate, was that it had been so much worse before foster care. Before I escaped their clutches, I never told my parents I was gay because I hadn’t even known, yet somehow they knew anyway. I’d spent years reflecting on my past, and it could’ve given me away before I even realized my sexuality, but my memories weren’t what they used to be.

My body involuntarily shuddered at my past, flashing through my mind as if my thoughts belonged to someone else or were straight out of a horror movie. The drugs, sex videos, electric shock… My parents’ efforts to ‘un-gay’ me and ‘toughen me up.’

No. I didn’t want to think about those days. Even living in an abusive foster home had been better than that.

Through the years, I’d been told by many that I had ADHD, though I’d never been officially diagnosed. I refused to get tested because I hated doctors after my conversion therapy. I had so much fear that I would go into an absolute panic if one came near me. If I needed a check-up while in foster care, I’d go ballistic, freaking everyone out. I’d been sedated more than once over the years.

People who claimed to be doctors hurt me beyond comprehension. Doctors ruined me. They broke me down until I became nothing. Just thinking about them even now turned my stomach queasy. Logically, they probably weren’t real medical professionals, and realistically, most real doctors wouldn’t hurt me, but my body reacted viscerally to their presence and manifested physically.

Nate called me neurodivergent. I liked that so much better, like I had a superpower or something. I wasn’t sure if my neurodivergence stemmed from my conversion therapy or if I was born with it. Regardless, I needed to live with it. Having Nate by my side made life easier. If I got sidetracked, he was always close by to set me back on the right path. Nate was my rock.

Nate's face nuzzled in my hair, huffing in it. “You’re thinking really loudly, Sam. You’re not going back to sleep, are you?”

Instead of pulling away, I snuggled in closer to him to feed off his strength and warmth. I couldn’t remember the last time I got a full night’s sleep. Maybe never. Not sleeping well had become as familiar as breathing.

Before I drowned in thoughts of sleeping patterns, I tugged on a lock of Nate’s hair and twirled it in my fingers. For someone with curly hair, it was softer than it looked. He had really dark brown hair, darker than black coffee, but not quite black. It didn’t look soft, but a bit frizzy, yet it felt like silk, though I didn’t know what silk felt like—

“Let’s talk about it,” Nate said, pulling me out of my head.

“Talk about what?”

“Why are you unable to sleep?”

I loved Nate’s patience. He never got frustrated or annoyed with me. I didn’t understand why when everyone else did. Well, my friends were pretty patient, too. Maybe he did get annoyed and kept it to himself. Maybe he always got angry and just didn’t show it, trying not to hurt my feelings.

What if Nate never came into my world? What if he left me? I constantly worried about that, which explained why I did everything possible to be happy and to have a smile on my face, not just for Nate but for all my friends and Alpha. I’d never had so many friends in my life or someone like Alpha, someone I could look up to and admire. Someone I didn’t fear.

“Sam.”

“What?”

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