"Welcome indeed..." I muttered to myself as we passed the state lines; a response to the sun-bleached piece of laminate that announced our arrival. My eyes were trained on the row of cars that had attempted to flee the city. Every single one held an unsettling number of passengers swimming in their comrades' remains.

The stench was...horrendous. Strong enough to permeate 
two neck gaiters and a surgical mask. We didn't find anything useful there. Thankfully, we weren't on the highway for long. We veered off the main road before hitting Vegas. The realization that we were once again at Roland's mercy made me uneasy. His attacks had only intensified the closer we got to our destination, which made me wonder what would happen when we finally arrived.

Nigel caught on to my apprehension the further we strayed from the road. "All good?" He asked, nudging me lightly with his elbow as we walked. 
"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine. Just hot!" I fibbed, though there was definitely some truth in that statement as a trickle of sweat slid down my jaw and onto my shirt. "Why don't you take your mask off for a second? It's not that bad out here. Sure, it's scorching, but at least it doesn't smell like a cemetery anymore." His reasoning caused me to snicker. "You're definitely a grass is greener sort of dweeb aren't you?" I asked, lowering my face coverings so I could take in a breath of stale air.

"Better, right?" He asked just a step ahead of me. 
My eyes flickered beyond Nigel to the scowl Roland had plastered on his face as he watched our interaction. I shifted my eyes back to the sand, a terrible feeling settling in my gut as I remembered the airsoft incident that took place two days ago. "No. not at all..."

That triple digit heat was no fucking joke. Two hours out and we had already drank half of our water stash for the week. It felt like a God send when we finally came upon a tiny oasis, nestled right beside an underground water deposit. It wasn't large enough to pool but it was enough for the small amount of vegetation around it to flourish.

A cluster of palm trees gave off enough shade for us both. "We'll stop here for the night. We've got about an hour left of sunlight so I'm gonna head out to find some firewood. Though I doubt we'll need it in this heat." Roland grumbled as he dropped his pack on a tiny patch of green before disappearing beyond some rock formations.

Nigel and I took it upon ourselves to make camp. We readied the utensils and supplies we would use for dinner as soon as Roland returned with the wood. We also set up our tent. Before I knew it, the sun had set. I opened up a small collapsible lamp I carried with me that ran on batteries. "Nice, where'd you get that?" He asked as he picked it up and studied it. "Won it in a Loteria contest." I boasted. "Very nice. Practical." The other male mused as he nestled himself beside me.

"Yes!" I cheered when I finally managed to get the small radio Nigel had gotten for me to work. "Stars...shining bright above you." Doris day's hypnotizing voice cut through the ungodly silence.
I swayed back and forth as I appreciated the beautiful tone of her singing. "Oldies cassette?" Nigel mused as he studied the rectangular cover. "Very nice." He approved.

"Oh, hold up!" I called before reaching for my bag. "I nabbed this before we left that rest stop. I saw it buried beneath some trash so, I saved it." I told him with a wide grin as I held up the bottle of Sweet Red by Carlo Rossi. "Sweet!" Nigel enthused as he took the bottle from my hands, He uncorked it as I handed him a clear plastic cup. 

"Not your average wine glass, but I'm sure it'll hold up." I enthused as I swirled the red liquid around to mix it a bit. "I thought you didn't drink wine?" Nigel asked once he'd poured his share. "I never said that, I just said it wasn't my go to drink, but on occasion, as long as it's sweet and not bitter, I've been known to enjoy a glass or two." I smiled before holding up my cup to him for a toast.

"Here's to finally making it to Nevada. Three days tops, and we'll be flying into Houston in style." Nigel enthused as he tapped his plastic cup against mine. "I'll drink to that; Cheers." 

An entire wine bottle later...

"No! No way in hell the Astros are better. They're nothing but a gaggle of cheating cheaters!" I slurred, in defense of my home team. "The Dodgers had that World Series in the bag!" I protested. "Ok, but they won the one after. So why are you still so salty?" He remarked, the effects of the alcohol heavy in his connotation. "I'm not, I'm not!" I protested as I shrugged him off.

We settled into a comfortable silence. After that, the music from the radio swirled around us hypnotically. I swayed happily to the soft rhythm but froze when an unexpected weight cemented half of my body in place. Nigel had leaned in and nestled his head on my shoulder as I hummed.

I didn't protest. Instead, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to bask in the moment we were sharing. For a second, I forgot where we were. I forgot the heat, the sand. The only thing I could focus on was him; His scent, his breathing. I found myself thinking that if I were to die; right then and there, I would die...happy. I couldn't help the smile that stretched my chapped lips as Nigel dozed off on my shoulder. 

"Agh!" I hissed, my over-dried skin finally splitting. That's what I get for smiling to myself like an idiot. My flinching woke, Nigel. "Nate? Everything okay?" He asked as he sat up and rubbed one of his eyes. "I'm ok, just...out of chap-stick." I griped as I fiddled with my bleeding lip.

"Here, take some of mine." He offered, handing me the one he kept in his breast pocket.  "I've got tons more in my bag." He assured. "
Thank you." I mumbled, the electricity I felt when our fingers brushed was...disorienting. "Crap. Here, let me help." He offered as he grabbed a napkin from our dinner kit (Nigel's name for it) and gently dabbed at my split lip. I flinched when he pressed too hard. 

"Sorry." He apologized before cleaning around it. "I'm not sure what's wine and what's blood anymore." He admitted with a light-hearted chuckle. He kept his eyes half-lidded as he lowered the tissue to asses the damage. I averted my gaze when he gripped my chin. Delicately, Nigel tilted my face, examining me from every angle before finally letting go. 

"Yeah, I think I got most of it." He affirmed, his eyes still glued to my bottom lip. "Thank you..." I managed to spit out. The fluttering in my stomach made it much harder to talk than I'd expected. "Not just for this, for everything. For putting up with my accident-prone ass day after day.

For tolerating my moodiness and for saving me on countless occasions. I owe you..." I trailed off. Nigel shook his head, our faces even closer than before as he spoke. "You don't owe me anything. On the contrary, I feel like you're the one who's saved...me." 

I found myself being pulled towards him by a magnetic sentiment, the likes of which I'd only  experienced once before. "Nate..." Nigel began in a whisper, the scent of sweet wine on his breath made my mouth water. "Can I...k—"

"You two sure look comfortable!" Roland's voice made us jump. The sound of all the twigs and branches being dumped before us dragged me back to earth. Nigel pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He seemed miffed. I scooted as far from him as I could manage in one ungraceful bounce, hoping not to look guilty in the eyes of the homophobic southerner. Nigel proceeded to light the fire as Roland sat across from us on the other side. "So,  what's for dinner?" He asked with that yellowed smirk I hated.