Chapter Text
Elio used to spend his summers lounging around in humid Northern Italy eating fresh peaches and swimming in the impossibly blue water but ever since his father decided to pursue a career in educating the youth of America right at the source, he now spends his summers lounging around in scorching gas stations and baptist churches in the deep south. With literacy rates rapidly declining from their dangerously low levels, the only books he can source are the bible and iterations of the bible with increasingly racist ideology, a great deviation from the ancient greek philosophers and poets works he was used to.
“Why don’t you get a job? Just for the summer - to entertain yourself”, Elio's father said one morning over a breakfast of sausage and grits. Pushing the sludge around his plate Elio moved his head side to side in contemplation.
“Stocking cans in a crappy grocery store filled with dust bunnies and no air conditioning doesn't really appeal to me much more than shoveling horse shit out of the road” he said, not looking up from his plate. There was no anger or sarcasm in his voice, this was just an honest confession. Ever since moving Elio had experienced a great decrease in motivation to do anything around town, opting rather to dream about being somewhere else, far away from where he was.
His father breathed out slowly and approached the topic at a different angle, “I saw an ad in the sheriff's station for cowboys herding sheep on Brokeback for the summer. It would be you and another young man, could be a way to learn a new skill… and make a new friend?”
So that was how Elio ended up in a dusty room with boarded windows, signing papers with another man to go up a mountain for a whole summer, sleeping in tents and heating beans on an open campfire. The man presumably accompanying him introduced himself as Harry S. Truman. He was tall and muscular with dark curly hair fighting its way out of the bottom of his worn-in cream cowboy hat. He looked capable and rugged, much more of a cowboy then young Elio with wiry limbs and the face of a 16th century poet who would succumb to infection before the invention of penicillin.
They stepped out of the office together while exchanging meaningless pleasantries and splitting ways. That night Elio tried to convince himself that this was an opportunity rather than a burden. He had packed some clothes, a journal, and the one book he had brought from his home in Italy, back when he was optimistic that Americans had at the very least interesting ideas that they had translated onto a page and published commercially.
The next morning Peaches, Elio’s white and brown spotted horse, trotted alongside him to the meeting site. Truman was already there, sitting on a log with their employer, a black stallion stood tall next to them with a pack attached to his saddle, their food supply and tents for the trip. Oh god even his horse is more manly than mine Elio thought to himself. Peaches, who seemed to read his mind at times, huffed and stopped moving in response. Elio hopped down from the saddle and tried to walk him over to the others as they noticed him 40 meters away.
“All right over there?” Truman called. Elio threw his head back in a boyish display of embarrassment. He knew better than to act like this but it was going to be a long summer and he knew that keeping up a mature act would be exhausting. Harry chuckled as he jogged over to them, exposing his tolerance which Elio knew he did not deserve.
“Old mate giving you some trouble?” Harry said amused, placing his hand on his hips, exposing the worn brown leather belt slung around his hips. In response Peaches reared back letting out a noise of discontentment. Harry laughed and corrected himself “I apologise, you’re clearly a very smart young lady” while stroking her coat.
Elio laughed “Yeah she’ll probably understand you more than I will” Harry looked at him, “Not from around here?” Elio stayed smiling as he answered “No, I’d guess you are though?”
Harry laughed again, a genuine one, a deep masculine sound. “Nope but I can see why you'd think so. No, I'm from a small town up north, Twin Peaks, right next to the border.”
“Oh, any particular reason you moved … here?” Elio held his arms out in a way that said ‘There's nothing here to move for, what's wrong with you?’
Harry smiled, saying “That’s a story for another day” and slowly walking back to their boss and his horse, leading Peaches happily following behind him as if she’d known him for years. Elio side eyed her and followed the two, his spirits lifted knowing the man coming up with him wasn't a total psycho, or at least a total bore.
A few hours later they had started up the mountain, Peaches working hard to keep up with the huge horse Harry was riding. Their boss had given them general directions and wished them luck, saying they will come to a clearing in about five hours. Elio and Harry chatted along the way, making quick friends. They exchanged stories about their respective home towns. Harry was curious about Italy, having never been out of the country apart from the occasional trip to Canada and one drunken night waking up in Mexico. Elio felt the weight on his shoulders wilting away as they talked. Maybe his dad was right, all he needed was a friend to confide in.
They arrived at the campsite late at night, setting up tents took no time at all and soon they had a roaring campfire, thanks to Harry. A jar of moonshine was produced from Harry’s rucksack and both of them were soon doubled over in laughter. As the night went on Elio felt his eyelids getting heavier, noticing, Harry stood up and clapped him on the back.
“How ‘bout we hit the sack, what do ya say? We got a long day of rounding sheep tomorrow.” Elio nodded and stumbled into his tent, not caring to remove any item of clothing, not even his boots.
That night Elio dreamt of bats and cold white skin touching his. He knew the presence wasn't nefarious but he was frightened nonetheless. Images of blood and teeth filled his consciousness, ears filled with the sounds of screams and heavy breathing. Elio awoke in a cold sweat, deciding to lay off the alcohol for the foreseeable future.
The pale morning light illuminated the array of trees spread out before Elio’s eyes. It was the crack of dawn and he had half-rolled out of his tent to orient himself, breathing the cool mountain air grounded him as he prepared a modest breakfast of oatmeal for himself and his campmate. He nursed a hangover as he thought back to his dream last night. Had it just been a consequence of the alcohol? Why did it hit him so hard? He was pulled out of his deep thought by Harry’s exasperated groan as he ducked out of his tent.
“Mornin’ champ” he said, patting Elio on the shoulder and sitting down on the log next to him.
“Phew. Maybe we steer clear of the moonshine from now on? I’m getting too old to be doing stuff like that …” he trailed off, staring off into the distance, taking his first sip of coffee in a tin travel coffee mug with more than a few dents in it.
“We got a bit of time before we have to start working.” Elio said, passing him the bowl of brown sludge he had made for them.
“Ugh, good. I wanted time to sit for a while … mm this is good. You learn how to cook from your parents or something?”
Elio grinned at him. “No um, from our housekeeper, Mafalda, back in Italy”
Harry sat up from his sunken position on the log. “Oh how rude of me, I didn’t even ask you where you're from. If I’d asked I would've known you were royalty slummin’ it in the mountains for character’ He enunciated the last word slowly with a shit-eating grin on his face while leaning towards the younger man.
“Shut up”
“No no, really your highness, I apologise profusely. Please. Tell me more about the people who cooked all your meals and washed your underwear for you"
Laughing, Elio talked about his home, somewhere in Northern Italy. He looked back with an aching pain some would call home sickness.
“It sounds incredible. Why would you ever leave?”
“Ask my father that”
“Huh yeah, maybe he can teach me how to play piano like a greek god”
"They didn't really..." Elio decided to drop it, didn't want to be known as the prick who knew everything about white dudes who were long dead. “How about you? Why are you out here, alone.” choosing to say the last word while waving his hands around playfully.
“Um, well I told you where I was from…”
“Two Peaks”
“Twin Peaks”
“Right, sorry. Why’d you leave? What are you running from?” Elio said with a playful grin.
Clearing his throat, Harry looked down at his scuffed boots. “Well it’s a… complicated story. I was the sheriff there, and there was this case.” Rubbing his eyes he continued, the mood shifting from lighthearted to dim. “This girl, Laura Palmer, was uhhh … murdered. It was tough, there’s no use sugar coatin’ it. Brought the entire town to its knees”
“Oh shit man I’m sorry. Is that why you left?”
“Hah. No. Well not exactly. An FBI agent was sent to help us with solving the case. Agent Cooper. Dale… He was brilliant. He cared so deeply about this girl he had never met. He had a deep love for our town that matched my own. Him and I got close. Closer than friends even though neither of us could really admit it, everyone knew. I loved him, I don’t know why I was such a coward back then. If I could ever see him again I would say it in a heartbeat. If I’m being honest that was the main reason why I left, because he did. It was all too painful to do without him.” Harry focused his eyes on the ground, refusing to meet Elio’s gaze.
“So what happened? Did he leave after the case was finished?”
Harry chuckled, finally making eye contact with the other. “Something like that, no one really knows. It’s sure as shit not gonna be me who finds out, I’ll let the professionals deal with that one.”
“And when you say ‘more than friends’, ‘loved’, you mean…”
Elio trailed off, sure that Harry understood what he was getting at. Of course he was ok with it, more than ok with it. He wanted so badly for it to have meant what he thought it meant but he couldn’t ask directly, afraid to show his hand too early. Just in case.
Harry looked up, his kind eyes locking with Elio’s. “Look, I may have been a coward then but I’m not anymore. You got a problem with it you can leave whenever you like but I’m not gonna lie about who I am. No use in that.”
Elio grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
The two of them just smiled at each other, sitting in understanding and acceptance. It was rare to find that in this godforsaken country.
Later that night Elio laid in his tent, ignoring the aching in his long-time underused muscles from a long day's work. He thought about Harry’s confession. Apart from the ambiguous ending, he had been direct and unashamed, two things that Elio had neglected to be in the past. Although he’d had a couple summer flings, he had never told anyone out loud how he felt. Not necessarily out of fear, well maybe a little, rather he had just felt like it wouldn’t do him any good. Wouldn’t make his life easier. But Harry’s honesty made him seem happy, that he gets to live his truth, maybe a few years too late but, hey who’s counting?
Elio rolled over, wincing at his screaming joints, willing his body to relax and fall asleep. He was curious to see what he dreamt about tonight.
Edward had felt a shift that hot afternoon, his impeccable senses honing in on a new resident on the mountain. The various travellers and workers coming and going over the years had always been a given. Edward had taught himself to turn the other way and leave them be, however this one was particularly captivating. He stood completely still and allowed his nose to gather the sweet scent wafting towards his side of Brokeback. A unique blend he just couldn’t ignore.
Many years ago he had exiled and imprisoned himself to this place, choosing to protect the world from his vampiric urges, ones that had caused many people, too many people intense grief in the past. He thought he had left it all behind, sustaining himself on small fouls and the occasional sheep to keep him going and spending his days trapped in malnourished ennui. He dreamt of a day he could return to the world, see his family and experience what was promised to him as a human child… a life to live.