Friday 23rd of December

On the morning after their meeting, Kyle was regretting his life choices as he put his keys in the ignition. He would do anything to be able to teleport right now. All he wanted to do was get back to his flat and collapse for the rest of the day. He needed a night to recover before heading off to his mum’s place on Christmas Eve.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive today?” Patrick asked as Kyle put his keys in the ignition. “You look rough as hell.”

The last thing Kyle felt like doing right now was driving, but he’d rather have a tooth pulled out without anaesthetic than admit that to Patrick.

“Yes. I’m fine,” Kyle snapped as he started his car. It purred into life like a dream despite the freezing weather. The sky above Carlisle was slate grey and forbidding; the weight of it exacerbated the headache that pulsed in Kyle’s eye sockets and temples, and his stomach churned. Why the hell had he thought it was a good idea to drink all those shots of Jack Daniels?

“I didn’t realise you’d drunk that much with dinner.” Patrick studied him, suspicion in his tone.

Kyle gritted his teeth. “I didn’t. I’m fine, just a bit tired… I didn’t sleep well.”

That was putting it mildly.

After a tedious dinner in the hotel with Patrick, Kyle had met a guy via Grindr and gone to a club with him. A few more drinks and a sloppy toilet blow job later, he’d staggered back to his room at 3 a.m. and passed out. That didn’t really count as quality sleep. He’d been hoping to sleep in till ten as they didn’t need to check out till eleven, and didn’t need to go back into the office today.

But Kyle’s plans for a lie-in had been thwarted when Patrick had woken him at half-eight, wanting him to hurry down to breakfast so they could leave as soon as possible. He had some plan about detouring into the Lake District for a walk, and, in a moment of barely awake weakness, Kyle had agreed to it. Not that he was planning on walking, but he supposed he could sit in a local pub and drink coffee while Patrick hiked up a hill.

He turned the wheel, taking the corner out of the car park a little too tightly and his guts lurched with the movement. It would be even worse if he was the passenger though.

“Well if you change your mind about driving we can swap later,” Patrick persisted.

Kyle didn’t bother to answer him.

“The next junction is the one we need,” Patrick said.

“Okay,” Kyle grunted, voice rough. They’d been driving in silence since they’d left Carlisle, and his mouth was sawdust-dry from his hangover. He couldn’t be bothered to point out that Google Maps on his phone would have told him that anyway because Patrick had put in the location earlier. Sure enough, the voice came through the car speakers, giving him the instructions to turn off.

He indicated and pulled off the motorway.

After that Patrick stayed quiet and let Kyle keep following the instructions from his phone. It kept working even though the phone signal was intermittent because Patrick had done something clever and made it save offline, which Kyle had been impressed by—although he didn’t admit it.

The route took them along an A road for a few miles until another turning put them on something smaller and narrower that wound through a valley with steep hills on both sides. Low clouds clung to the peaks and thick white patches of snow lingered on the higher slopes.

As Kyle pulled into the pub car park he sighed in relief at the prospect of coffee and something to eat. He’d skipped breakfast that morning, but had finally reached the stage where his stomach was growling at the thought of food rather than rolling in protest.

He turned off the engine. “Is it open yet?”

Patrick looked at his watch. “Not quite, but it will be soon. It’s nearly eleven.”

“Ugh. Okay.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? It’s not a very long walk, only about an hour and a half, but it’s supposed to be very pretty.”

“No, I’m good thanks.” Kyle shivered at the thought of heading up into the hills today. It was bitterly cold and the casual clothing he was wearing was totally unsuitable—skinny jeans, fashionable boots, a snug white T-shirt, and a jumper that wasn’t thick enough to be particularly warm. He didn’t even have a decent jacket with him, only a lightweight suede one that was bought for looks rather than function. He hated hiking anyway; Kyle’s preferred form of exercise was dancing in a club or a workout at his gym where the eye candy made cardio bearable. “I’ll go in the pub once it’s open and wait for you there.”

“Okay.” Patrick opened the passenger door and got out. The blast of icy air served to reassure Kyle that he was the sensible one in this scenario. The car cooled even more as Patrick opened the boot to get some stuff out. Clad in a weatherproof jacket, fleece gloves, and a hat, with a small rucksack on his back he walked around and tapped on Kyle’s window.

Kyle wound it down a couple of inches. “What now?”

Patrick held out an Ordnance Survey map. “I want to show you the route I’m taking, just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

“It’s always a good idea to make sure someone knows where you’re going if you’re hiking alone, especially in winter. It’s not supposed to snow until late this afternoon but you never know. I have my phone but there probably won’t be a signal everywhere.”

“Okay. Well hurry up then. I’m letting in all the cold air with this window open.” Kyle turned on the engine again and blasted up the heat.

“Actually you’re technically letting out the heat, it’s heat that moves.”

“Not helping!” Kyle always found it irritating when Patrick was pedantic. Nobody liked a smartarse.

“So anyway.” Patrick pointed to the map. “This is the footpath leaving the pub car park here. I’m walking up the steep way to the ridge, and then following it along and looping back around here on a path that comes down through the woods. I should rejoin the road about a mile north of here and I’ll walk back from there.”

“Okay, so up… along the ridge and back down. Hang on, let me take a photo.” Kyle got his phone and took a picture of the map. “Right, happy now? I can send out the rescue party if you fall down a rabbit hole or get attacked by killer sheep or something.”

Patrick glared but didn’t rise to Kyle’s sarcasm. “Right, see you in a couple of hours at the most.”

“Yep. Have fun.” Kyle wound up the window and watched as Patrick strode away. He had to admit Patrick looked pretty good in his hiking clothes. Outdoorsy and determined, he piqued Kyle’s interest like this more than he ever had in his office suits.

As soon as the pub opened, Kyle went inside.

A huge Christmas tree that looked as though someone had vomited tinsel on it stood in one corner, and there were Christmas lights hanging along the top of the bar.

First Kyle ordered coffee, and then he picked up a menu. “Are you serving any food yet?” he asked the woman behind the bar. Plump with brown hair, she reminded Kyle a little of his mum and his spirits lifted at the thought of spending a couple of nights at home with his family. Kyle got on great with his mum and missed seeing her so often since he’d moved to the city. He still went back at least once a month to stay for the weekend so he could catch up with her and his younger sisters.

“Yes, we do food all day.”

Scanning the menu, there was a list of options that made Kyle’s mouth water, but there was one clear winner. “Full English breakfast please.”

She smiled. “That was quick.”

“You can’t beat it as a hangover cure.”

“Oh. Like that is it?”

“Yeah. I overdid it a little last night.”

Kyle’s mind wandered back to the JD shots and the subsequent blow job exchange. Had he even come? He knew the other guy did eventually because he’d jerked himself off to finish, narrowly avoiding Kyle’s face and making a mess on the toilet floor. But by the time he’d gone down on Kyle—kneeling in his own come—Kyle was so drunk and tired he’d been practically falling asleep, despite the guy’s best efforts.

No. He hadn’t come.

The guy’s technique had been off and Kyle had eventually lost his boner and told him not to bother. Thinking about it now his balls ached at the missed opportunity. If only he’d drunk less, he’d be feeling much more satisfied today.

After paying, Kyle chose a table in the corner near the fireplace where a log fire was crackling in the grate. More Christmas lights twinkled over the thick stone mantelpiece. He got out his phone, logged into the pub’s free Wi-Fi and idly opened Grindr. It was always interesting to see who was around. It was slim pickings here though, nobody online within five miles.

Giving up on finding someone to chat to, Kyle scrolled Twitter for a while, and then when his food arrived he set his phone aside to concentrate on the salty, oily deliciousness of a full English breakfast. Bacon, sausage, fried egg, baked beans, mushrooms, and grilled tomato jostled for position on his plate. Two slices of toast came on a side plate with a generous pat of butter. Normally Kyle watched his diet, but today he was going to indulge and damn the consequences. With Christmas two days away he needed to exercise his eating muscles, and he’d work it off in the gym once the festive season was over.

Absorbed in watching a thriller on Netflix on his phone, Kyle had lost track of time when he was disturbed by a gentle touch on his shoulder. He looked up to see Patrick, cheeks pink, and eyes bright, his normally wild hair flattened from wearing his hat.

“Oh, hi.” Kyle hit pause and took out his earbuds. “How was the walk?”

“It was wonderful.” Patrick grinned, genuine, and happy. “So beautiful. I’m really glad I did it. Thanks so much for agreeing to detour.”

Kyle had never seen that expression on him before; usually around Kyle his habitual state was irritation. He found himself smiling back. “You’re welcome.”

“Is it okay if I order some food, or do you want to head off? If you’re in a hurry we can stop at some services and I can grab a sandwich instead.”

“What’s the weather doing?” Kyle turned to look out of the window. Nothing had changed, the sky was still grey and heavy with the prospect of snow later, but it was dry for now.

“Nothing yet.”

“Go and order then.” Full of food and sufficiently caffeinated, Kyle was feeling generous. Patrick was probably starving after a two-hour hike and the smells from the pub kitchen were divine.

“Do you want anything else?”

“No, I’m good thanks.”

The first flakes of snow started to fall about five minutes after they left the pub car park.

“Bollocks,” Patrick said. “It’s come earlier than they said.”

“We’ll be fine,” Kyle said with a confidence he didn’t feel as he glanced up at the clouds. They looked weighed down with snow, waiting to empty their contents over the landscape beneath. “It might not come to much yet.” Even as he said the words the flakes thickened, floating like feathers from some icy bird. He put his foot down, hoping he could reach a bigger road before it got any worse. At least the main roads would have been gritted. Thick white flakes whirled in the headlights and Kyle could only see about twenty yards ahead. He braked sharply as he saw taillights ahead of them, skidding slightly.

“Fuck! Slow down. Jesus!” Patrick grabbed the door handle, as though escaping from the car was an option in the middle of bloody nowhere in a blizzard.

Gripping the wheel tightly, Kyle’s heart raced. “Chill out. Would you?”

“You fucking chill out.”

“I’m perfectly calm,” Kyle lied. “So that doesn’t even make any sense.”

Patrick huffed, but didn’t retaliate.

Kyle did slow down, crawling at twenty miles per hour behind the car in front. The way home was a different road to the one they’d taken earlier, but from what Kyle remembered when he’d set the route it couldn’t be too far till they reached the relative safety of the A road. It wouldn’t be a moment too soon. The snow was already a couple of inches deep.

His head throbbed again, and he longed to be back at his flat sleeping off his hangover. This snow was a massive ball ache and would make their journey way longer. He silently cursed Patrick for suggesting the detour and himself for agreeing to it.

“I think it’s easing a little,” Kyle said. The sky had lightened and the flakes were getting smaller. As the visibility improved, the car in front pulled away and Kyle tried to accelerate too. But the engine was sluggish and didn’t respond as he’d expected, making a weird unhappy-sounding noise as he put his foot down.

Oh fuck. No.

He eased off and tried again. The speed barely increased and there was that odd sound again.

“There’s something wrong with the car,” he said, a cold rush of anxiety flooding through him.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“There’s hardly any power. It’s going, but won’t accelerate, and the engine doesn’t sound right. What should I do? Should I pull over and see if we can get the AA out?”

Patrick glanced at Kyle’s phone where it sat on the dashboard. “You’ve got no signal.” Reaching in his pocket for his own, he added. “Neither have I. As the car’s still going, we can drive till we have a signal. Or we could try and make it to the next village and see if we can find a local garage. The AA might take hours to get to us on a day like today.”

Patrick had a point. Two days before Christmas and this heavy snowfall would probably mean the AA were inundated, and they’d prioritise families or women travelling alone over two men together. At least if they could make it to a garage there was a chance it was something relatively minor that could be fixed.

“Okay, let’s do that.”

Kyle’s car had other ideas. After another half a mile at a snail’s pace, the engine coughed, and died. Both of their phones still had no service.

“You know anything about cars?” Kyle asked.

“No, sorry. You?”

“Nope.” Kyle gave a mirthless laugh. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

“We’ll have to walk to find help. At least it’s stopped snowing—for now.”

Kyle got his phone and zoomed out on the map. Thank fuck he’d made it available offline now Patrick had showed him how. “Looks like there’s a village here.” He pointed. “It’s about a mile away.”

Thankfully, they were on a slight downwards slope and the road was unfenced with fields either side. So Patrick was able to push while Kyle steered the vehicle off the road. On the verge, it wasn’t blocking the way for any other motorists who were stupid enough to get caught in the snow.

“We should take our luggage,” Patrick said, eyeing Kyle as he zipped up his woefully inadequate jacket.

“Why?”

“Just in case we can’t find a mechanic or get the AA out today. Then we’ll need to find somewhere to stay for the night.” He packed his smaller rucksack away into a larger one with the rest of his stuff and hefted it onto his back.

Kyle didn’t reply, but as he picked up his case he sent out a prayer to the universe that they’d manage to get the damn car fixed. Because if they didn’t get it sorted today it was only going to be more difficult on Christmas Eve.

“Don’t you have a hat?” Patrick glanced disapprovingly at Kyle’s attire.

“No.” Kyle pulled on his gloves, grateful he’d packed those at least.

“Why not? It’s the middle of winter!”

“I wasn’t planning on hiking in the snow,” Kyle snapped. “I was expecting to spend the majority of my time in nice warm offices and hotel rooms.” Of course he’d gone out last night, but he’d relied on taxis to get him back and forth. A hat would have only ruined the hairstyle he’d spent ten minutes teasing into shape before heading to the club.

With the car boot closed, Kyle locked it, and shoved the keys into his pocket. “Let’s go then.” He was already shivering and his ears were aching from the cold.

Patrick set off at a fast pace, and Kyle did his best to keep up. But his wheeled case couldn’t cope with the snow so he had to drag it along, and the soles of his boots had no grips and he kept losing his footing. He envied Patrick his rucksack and walking boots, which were infinitely more suitable for the situation.

After the third time he flailed, barely staying upright, Patrick caught him, and then kept hold of his arm. “Here. Let me help.”

“I’m fine!” Kyle snatched his arm away, pride wounded. The sudden movement, combined with his foot slipping again, made his feet go right out from under him and he fell on his arse with a yelp.

“Do you want help now?” Patrick offered his hand and this time Kyle took it, scowling at the barely concealed amusement on Patrick’s face. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” Thankfully the layer of snow had cushioned his fall.

“You’re covered. Better get that off before it starts to melt through your clothes.” Patrick started to brush the snow off Kyle’s jeans in brisk strokes over the curve of his arse and down the back of his thighs. He was making a thorough job of it and the intimate touch sent an unexpected tingle through Kyle.

“I can manage, thanks,” he said firmly, taking over from Patrick, and brushing himself off.

“Sorry.” Patrick snatched his hands away like a kid caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“All done?” Kyle turned his backside towards Patrick, deliberately tilting his hips so he knew his arse would look at its best. He watched over his shoulder, enjoying the admiration as Patrick’s gaze lingered on his bum for a moment.

Dragging his gaze away, Patrick said, “Good enough. Now let’s get moving. It’s coming down faster again.”

Kyle looked up at the sky and blinked as a flake of snow caught on his eyelashes. Sure enough it was falling thick and fast. Shivering at the thought of getting lost in it, Kyle hung on to Patrick’s arm—which felt strong and more muscular than Kyle would have expected—and did his best to hurry.