Western Style BL Stories

By the light of a lone campfire, a calm boy tends to the flames while his companion looks on in fear at the encroaching darkness of the autumn forest.

Direction Measured in Poplar Bark

By Jamie F. Bell

The compass was a joke. Noah knew it before they even left the trailhead. The cheap plastic housing and the bubbly, sluggish needle felt wrong in his palm. But Mr. Davies, the gym-teacher-turned-outdoorsman for the week, had clapped him on the shoulder and said, 'Same model the army uses, son!' which Noah knew for a fact was a lie. Now, with the autumn sun bleeding out behind the dense wall of spruce and birch, the cheap plastic felt like a death sentence.

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In the fluorescent hum of a roadside diner, James and Konstantin, two strangers on separate journeys, create a temporary home over a shared plate of fries.

The Tarmac Shimmer

By Jamie F. Bell

The coffee cup rattled in its saucer as a heavy body slammed into the side of their booth. James flinched, sloshing the black, bitter liquid onto the formica tabletop. Two truckers, beefy men with anger-contorted faces, were shouting, their voices a raw counterpoint to the bland pop music leaking from the diner's speakers. One shoved the other, a clumsy, powerful movement that sent a rack of blueberry muffins scattering across the worn linoleum floor. This was not the quiet, anonymous stop he had been hoping for.

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In the soft, golden light of a summer evening, two young men, Jasper and Cody, stand beside their old, crimson Ford pickup truck, its hood now closed. Cody, with a faint smear of grease on his cheek, offers a gentle, understanding smile to Jasper, who looks out at the vast, sun-kissed fields, his expression a delicate mix of contemplation and emerging hope. The scene captures a quiet moment of connection and the peaceful conclusion to a challenging day.

The Summer's Respite

By Leaf Richards

The oppressive weight of a Central Alberta summer bore down on the endless fields, the air thick with the smell of dry grass and the distant, metallic tang of the oil rigs dotting the horizon. A cloud of fine, ochre dust hung in the still air, kicked up by nothing more than a faint breeze that offered no cooling relief. Under the unforgiving glare, two figures wrestled with a silent, imposing machine, their grunts and the clink of metal the only sounds against the vast, indifferent landscape.

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Inside a rustic, snow-laden hunting blind, two young men, Jon and Matt, their faces etched with exhaustion and growing concern, huddle together with a small, blanketed calf. The biting winter storm rages outside, its muffled roar a constant threat, as they brace for an unseen danger lurking just beyond the fragile shelter.

A Gust of White Laughter

By Leaf Richards

The wind howled a raw, untamed symphony across the frozen landscape, tearing at the edges of everything, clawing at the flimsy barrier of the snowmobile's windshield. Snow, whipped into a frenzy of crystalline daggers, blurred the already fading light, painting the world in shades of blinding white and grey. Below the roar of the engine, the world felt like a suffocating, churning void, testing every sinew, every resolve.

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Two young men, Michael and Tommy, stand in stunned silence beside a wide section of ranch fence that has been violently ripped apart, leaving splintered wood and mangled wire. The bright spring sun casts stark shadows across the scarred earth, highlighting the palpable tension in their expressions. It is a moment of chilling discovery, disrupting their quiet work.

The First Unfurling

By Leaf Richards

The morning light, still thin and cool despite the late spring, spilled over the rolling acreage of the ranch. Dust motes, caught in the weak beams through the barn's open wide doors, danced a slow, indifferent ballet. The air carried the crisp scent of damp earth, hay, and the distant, metallic tang of rainfall from the night before, a promise of new growth struggling against the stubborn remnants of a long, cold winter.

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Julian stands in the university cafeteria, his t-shirt drenched in pasta sauce. August, the cause of the spill, looks on with deep embarrassment, as a messy overturned tray lies on the linoleum floor between them.

Burnt Sugar and Cold Coffee

By Jamie F. Bell

Julian, a cynical university freshman, has his orientation day literally ruined when another student, August, clumsily spills a tray of pasta bake all over him in the humid, institutional cafeteria. The ensuing awkward interaction sets the stage for an unexpected connection.

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In a brightly lit university cafeteria, a young man named Jimmy, with dark, slightly disheveled hair and moss-green eyes, has a large, vibrant chili stain across his pristine white t-shirt. He holds a small glob of chili delicately between two fingers, his expression a mix of bewilderment and a subtle, knowing smirk as he looks directly ahead. Behind him, another young man, Caleb, is visibly mortified, his face a blur of embarrassment. The scene is shot close-up, focusing on Jimmy's composed yet theatrical reaction to the culinary disaster.

The First Spill

By Jamie F. Bell

Caleb, a nervous first-year university student, accidentally spills a tray of chili all over Jimmy, a composed and theatrically-spoken second-year, during their first week in the bustling campus cafeteria.

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The First Spill

By Jamie F. Bell

Caleb, a nervous first-year university student, accidentally spills a tray of chili all over Jimmy, a composed and theatrically-spoken second-year, during their first week in the bustling campus cafeteria.

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Explore Our Western Style BL Short Stories

Direction Measured in Poplar Bark

The Tarmac Shimmer

The Summer's Respite

A Gust of White Laughter

The First Unfurling

Burnt Sugar and Cold Coffee

The First Spill

The First Spill

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