Dark Sky Country

For a long moment, they sat there in silence, their hands clasped, the stars wheeling overhead. Arlo felt something shift inside him, a crack in the wall he’d built around his heart. For the first time in a long time, he felt seen. Understood.

A few days later, that newfound sense of connection was put to the test. Arlo and Beau were in town picking up supplies when they ran into Hank Miller, a local rancher with a reputation for being a bit of a loudmouth.

“Well, if it isn’t the star-gazer and his little helper,” Hank drawled, his eyes narrowing as he took in Arlo and Beau standing close together by the feed store counter. “Didn’t know you boys were so… close.”

Arlo felt Beau stiffen beside him, his jaw tightening. “Just picking up supplies, Hank,” Beau said, his voice tight. “Nothing to get excited about.”

Hank snorted, his gaze flicking between them. “Just saying, it’s not natural, two grown men spending so much time together. Alone.”

Arlo felt a hot rush of anger and shame flood through him. He’d heard those words before, in different contexts, from different people. They always found their mark.

Before he could react, Beau stepped forward, his shoulders squared. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Hank,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Just working. Same as you.”

Hank’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback by Beau’s defiance. “Just saying,” he muttered, taking a step back. “Folks talk, is all.”

Arlo’s heart pounded in his chest as Hank ambled away, his parting words hanging in the air. He felt exposed, raw, all the old fears and insecurities rushing to the surface.

Beau turned to him, his expression unreadable. “Arlo—”

Arlo shook his head, cutting him off. “Don’t,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Just… don’t.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Beau standing there by the feed store, his heart aching with a confusing mix of anger and fear and something else, something he didn’t dare name.

Beau found Arlo back at the cabin, pacing the small space like a caged animal. The astrophysicist’s face was pale, his eyes shadowed with anguish. He looked up as Beau entered, his expression twisting into something raw and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry,” Arlo said, his voice rough with emotion. “I shouldn’t have walked away like that. I just… I couldn’t…”

Beau crossed the room in two long strides, pulling Arlo into his arms. For a moment, Arlo resisted, his body stiff and unyielding. Then, with a shuddering sigh, he relaxed into Beau’s embrace, his face burying in the ranch hand’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Beau murmured, his hand stroking Arlo’s back in slow, soothing circles. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to be angry.”

They stood like that for a long moment, the only sound the ragged cadence of Arlo’s breathing. When he finally pulled back, his face was still pale, but his eyes were clearer, more focused.

“I’m 58 years old,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “I’ve spent my whole life hiding who I am. Hiding from myself.” He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “And for what? So some small-minded bigot can make me feel like I’m nothing? Like I’m less than human?”

Beau’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew Arlo needed to say this, needed to let the poison out.

“It’s not just Hank,” Arlo continued, his gaze distant. “It’s… it’s everyone. My colleagues, my students, my family. What will they think? What will they say?”

His voice broke on the last word, and he closed his eyes, a single tear tracing a path down his weathered cheek.

Beau reached out, wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “They’ll think you’re brave,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “They’ll think you’re strong. And the ones who matter? They’ll love you, no matter what.”

Arlo opened his eyes, his gaze locking with Beau’s. In that moment, Beau saw the fear and the vulnerability, but also a flicker of something else. Hope.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Arlo whispered. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

Beau smiled, a small, tender thing. “You’re the strongest person I know,” he said. “You’ve faced down black holes and supernovas. You can face this, too.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing Arlo’s in a soft, chaste kiss. When he pulled back, Arlo’s eyes were wide, his breath catching in his throat.

“Beau, I—”

Beau silenced him with another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. When they broke apart, they were both breathing hard, their foreheads pressed together.

“We’ll figure this out,” Beau murmured. “Together. One day at a time.”

Over the next few days, Beau made a point of being there for Arlo in small, quiet ways. He brought him coffee in the mornings, sat with him in companionable silence as he worked, and always made sure to be at the observation site before Arlo, the equipment set up and ready to go.

Slowly, Arlo began to relax, the tension in his shoulders easing, the shadows under his eyes fading. He still hadn’t said anything more about coming out, but Beau could see him thinking, see the wheels turning behind those sharp blue eyes.

One evening, as they were packing up for the night, a rustle in the underbrush caught their attention. Beau froze, his hand instinctively going to the bear spray on his hip.

“Don’t move,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.

Arlo nodded, his eyes wide as he scanned the darkening forest. The rustling grew louder, closer, and then a massive shape emerged from the trees—a grizzly bear, its shaggy coat glinting in the fading light.

Beau’s heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his voice calm. “Arlo, slowly back up towards the truck. Don’t make any sudden movements.”

Arlo nodded again, his movements deliberate and steady as he began to retreat. The bear watched them, its dark eyes inscrutable, and then it took a step forward, its massive paws sinking into the soft earth.

Beau’s hand tightened on the bear spray, his mind racing. He knew that running would only trigger the bear’s predatory instincts, but he also knew that they were dangerously close to its territory.

“Hey, bear,” he called out, his voice firm but not threatening. “We’re just leaving. We don’t want any trouble.”

The bear snuffled, its breath frosting in the cold air, and then it turned, ambling back into the trees as if it had lost interest.

Beau let out a shaky breath, his hand dropping to his side. “It’s okay,” he said, turning to Arlo. “It’s gone.”

Arlo was standing a few feet away, his face pale but composed. In that moment, Beau saw the strength in him, the steady presence that had drawn Beau to him from the start.

“You were amazing,” Arlo said, his voice soft with wonder. “So calm. So in control.”

Beau shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Just doing my job,” he said. “Protecting what’s important.”

Their eyes met, and in that shared gaze, something shifted between them. A deepening of the bond that had been growing since the day they met.

As they made their way back to the truck, Beau knew that whatever came next, they would face it together. Because that’s what you did when you loved someone. You stood by them, no matter what the universe threw your way.

The next week passed in a blur of preparations for the ranch’s annual summer social, a tradition that drew folks from all over the county. Arlo had initially planned to skip the event, preferring to spend the evening at the observation site, but Beau had insisted he come.

“It’ll be good for you,” he’d said, his voice warm with encouragement. “Get out of your head for a night. Meet some of the locals.”

Arlo had finally relented, and now, as he stood at the edge of the makeshift dance floor, he was glad he had. The social was a lively affair, with twinkling lights strung between the cottonwood trees and the scent of barbecue and honeysuckle hanging heavy in the warm night air. Couples two-stepped to the lively strains of a local band, their laughter and conversation mingling with the chirp of crickets in the surrounding fields.

Arlo felt a familiar presence at his side and turned to see Beau, looking ruggedly handsome in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans, his Stetson tipped low over his eyes.

“Having fun?” Beau asked, his voice low and intimate.

Arlo smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. “I am, actually,” he said, surprised to find it was true. “It’s… nice. Being here. With you.”

Beau’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile deepening. “Good,” he said. “That’s what I like to hear.”