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ORION'S BEAU


Summer 2025
Efim
A beautiful story of a crush between two friends by Troy Preston Dillon
Efim was sprawled out on his back on a bed of straw, arms clasped behind his head, staring up at the gradually darkening sky over their little town. Or what he could see of it anyway, from the hay loft of their small barn. The roof had holes in it that his father had not gotten around to fixing yet, and those same holes that vexed his mother so provided a nice window onto the sky. It was quiet other than the occasional sounds of their horse Gabe, and Gabe was not in the habit of saying much.
A skinny boy of just over eighteen summers, Efim had recently been apprenticed to the town smith Barl, and some muscle definition was beginning to show from the hard physical labor. He was proud of his newfound muscles, and flexed his biceps (which were still pretty small) often these days…a habit that never failed to elicit a comment or an eyeroll from his little sister Meg. But he didn’t care, he was becoming a man, finally!
With slightly curly brown hair and an ill-fitting peasant brown tunic and pants, and bare feet that were always dirty from being thus, Efim was not exactly a striking figure, and was far from a target of the ladies’ attention. He was also short for his age. But Efim did not care about any of that. He was a generally happy lad, and given to bouts of daydreaming. He knew who he loved anyway, and therefore the utter lack of attention from the others did not matter in the least.
So he lay daydreaming, hair matted with straw, thinking of the one who occupied most of his thoughts these days. And he smiled, a lazy, contented smile.
The next day found him hard at work again, in the bustle of Barl’s small shop. The main building was made of stout logs, as they all were in their town, and reserved for displaying the smith’s wares. Off to the side, in a mostly open area with only a roof supported by poles, was where Efim spent his days. This was the workshop. Efim knew little about smithing yet, so most of his tasks consisted of running for water, adding fuel to the fire, carrying finished product inside, cleaning up after the smith, and a thousand other tasks in support of Barl, who did the actual smithing. It was dirty, hard work, and well before the day was done he was covered in soot and sweaty, hair matted.
Looking up from his work, Efim noticed some of his fellows coming up to the shop. Some were dressed similarly to Efim, but a couple of them were dressed in the slightly finer gear of a soldier, bearing the wolf’s-head tabard of the local lord who had recently enlisted them in his service. At the head of the party was Tomas, a lad slightly taller than Efim, with wild blond hair and handsome features. While he still had some of the lanky awkwardness of youth, Tomas was also beginning to fill out and get stronger from the rigorous training he was receiving. He was Efim’s best friend, and though he wanted to run and greet them, Barl would disapprove. So they exchanged head nods and a quick smile at a distance as the group proceeded into the shop. Barl went into the shop to greet his customers, and Efim continued about his tasks, his mind elsewhere.
A little while later, a hand on his arm jolted Efim from his thoughts. Tomas pulled him slightly to the side of the shop, knowing that they did not have long to talk.
“Hey, do you want to go fishing later? I found a great spot yesterday with Josef!” Tomas offered with a big smile. His hand still rested lightly on Efim’s arm, a casual fondness that Efim noticed as always. Tomas was effortlessly affectionate, always had been over the many years they had been friends. Efim had always returned the affection, although in recent years it had started to make him nervous in a way he could not describe. A good nervous, a heart-fluttering nervous.
Efim fussed self-consciously with one hand at his matted hair, knowing he must look a wreck.
“I don’t know Tomas, he’s been keeping me late this week. We have several big orders from Coveytown that he’s been working on, and with just the two of us…” he trailed off.
“You’ve got to! We haven’t been fishing in ages! I miss the days where we could run free and do what we wanted,” Tomas reflected, the smile dampening. Efim knew that was not totally true, both boys had always had lots of chores at home. But they certainly had more free time before being apprenticed, and Efim shared the sentiment.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Efim answered with an encouraging smile.
“Good!” Tomas replied, giving his arm a squeeze before turning away. Then over his shoulder as he walked back to the shop, “And pull your head out of the clouds, you’ll work faster that way!” Efim chuckled guiltily, returning to his work with renewed vigor.

They did get to go fishing that evening after all. Barl noticed that his assistant seemed more distracted than usual, and eventually told him to knock off early. This was a rare gift from the gruff smith, and Efim thanked him profusely before running to join his pal.
The fish weren’t biting that evening at Tomas’ “great” spot, but it didn’t matter. They laughed and shared stories and simply enjoyed each other’s company, sitting on the bank of the stream near their homes. The sun faded in the distance, and all was right in the world.
“Do you think Marny likes me?” Tomas asked during a pause in their conversation. It was often like this with them…as the sun began to dip behind the horizon, their conversation would slow,
and they would turn to more serious matters. “She mocks me sometimes in front of the others, but there’s something in her eyes when she looks at me. I don’t know, I’m probably imagining it.”
“I don’t know, maybe.” Efim shrugged casually, although his heart fluttered again. Of course she liked him, everybody did! Tomas was good-looking, charming, charismatic. Basically the
polar opposite of Efim.
“Oh hey, check this out!” Tomas jumped up suddenly and began removing his tunic. “Look at these muscles!” The last part came out muffled, as the tunic was still partly over his head. When his torso was bare, Tomas stood there proudly. Efim noticed that his friend’s skinny form had indeed developed, with a much more defined chest and abs.
“What do you think?” Tomas queried, his usual big grin back in place.
“I think you look like a strutting rooster,” Efim kidded. He tried to make it sound casual, but his eyes told a different story. He clearly had trouble taking his eyes off his friend’s chest.
“Whatever. C’mon, let’s see what you’ve got! I know you’ve been lifting all those heavy things at the shop!”
Efim stood reluctantly and peeled off his tunic. He had been proud of his developing body, but standing next to his beautiful friend, he felt…puny. He stood there self-consciously, although a bit excited to have his friend staring at him.
“You look great Efim! Look at those muscles!” Tomas encouraged, reaching out to squeeze the much smaller biceps of his friend. Then he patted Efim’s comparatively flat stomach. “You’ll have a six-pack in no time!”
Efim stood awkwardly for a second under his friend’s gaze, then sat down quickly. Feelings were stirring in him that he was not prepared for, and he definitely did not want Tomas to notice. Tomas sat down also, and they returned to silent contemplation of the sunset.
“Maybe you should just take your shirt off next time you see her,” Efim joked, although his voice cracked a bit. He was trying hard to keep his gaze on the horizon.
“Haha! You know I would never do that.” Tomas returned, seeming to blush slightly. “There’s something about her though…I don’t know, maybe…maybe I should ask her to the dance this fall? Or should I start off with something more simple? A gift, perhaps?”
Efim was caught off guard by his normally confident friend’s hesitation. He was quite sure Tomas could say anything, anything at all to that girl, and win her over. But he offered a few
ideas anyway, and they talked on until well after darkness had settled over the town.
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That night Efim tossed and turned in his small bed. A candle still burned in the main room, and a bit of light came through around the frame of his bedroom door, giving some illumination to his struggles. He loved Tomas, of course, but he is just a friend! Right? Surely there is nothing more to it than that…could never be anything more to it than that. Guys just did not like other guys, that way. Everyone around him had made that clear to him his whole life, in a thousand ways big and small. Someday Efim would marry a beautiful girl and have a family of his own, his mother would say proudly.
“Then why can I think of nothing else but Tomas?” he agonized, not even realizing that he’d said it aloud, albeit quietly. The image of his shirtless friend came back into his head unbidden, and he savored the memory even as he struggled with it.
“Argh!” Efim finally exclaimed, slamming himself down on the bed facedown, and covering the back of his head with a pillow. It would be another sleepless night.
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“Efim!” Tomas called from behind him, startling him from his reverie as he walked down the path headed home the next night.
“Hey! What are you doing over here? Shouldn’t you be headed home?” Efim answered as the taller boy caught up, looking off in the direction of Tomas’ home. They lived on opposite sides of the village.
“I just thought we could, I don’t know, go sit by the creek again,” Tomas offered as he pulled alongside Efim. “Or maybe in the loft of your barn like we used to.”
Efim’s heart fluttered again. No, the barn would not be a good idea, he decided immediately. He did not trust himself in there in the dark, not with Tomas.
“I guess we could go to the creek for a bit,” Efim answered reluctantly. “But I need to be home pretty soon, or Ma will have my hide.”
“Just for a bit then.” Tomas concluded with a big smile, and they altered their course off the path in the direction of the water.

“What are you thinking about?” Tomas asked, as they both lay on their backs on the bank of the creek, in the same spot as the night before. The stars twinkled in all their glory above them, and the mostly full moon shined its light down on them, illuminating their features. They had talked again for a while as usual, about nothing consequential, simply enjoying each other’s company. Then Efim had gone quiet, staring off into the night sky.
“Nothing. Just work.” Efim replied shortly.
“Lies!” Tomas said with a big grin, propping himself up on one arm to look down at his reclined friend. “You don’t even think about work when you’re in the smithy!”
They laughed, and then Efim went silent again.
“Seriously, what is it?” Tomas’ grin faded, and he looked down in concern. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Efim had his doubts about that…serious doubts. But he appreciated the concern, and gave a wan smile in return. He propped himself up on one arm also, facing his friend.
“Do you ever…have you ever liked someone, but you were sure they didn’t like you back? Like Marny, for example.” Efim hastened to add.
“Well, no,” Tomas began slowly. “Not really. But this isn’t about Marny, is it?”
“No.”
There was a long pause, and then Tomas leaned forward and kissed Efim lightly on the lips. Efim was shocked, and took a minute to recover, as Tomas sat there smiling at him. Then Tomas leaned in for another kiss, this one more serious and lingering.
“You know I like you too, right?” Tomas said gently as he pulled away, his voice almost a whisper. The moonlight made his blond hair almost glow, and his eyes were bright. “I always have. You’re my best friend in the world Efim. I love you.” Then he reached down and took Efim’s suddenly sweaty hand in his own, their fingers intertwined. They both laid back again to gaze at the stars, this time both of them smiling.
Efim was still unsure if anything could come of this sudden revelation. But he found that it did not matter for now. All was right in the world this night, and he could figure…no, THEY could figure out the rest later.
Troy Preston Dillon grew up in Denver, Colorado, and wrote his first story in elementary school. After a 25+ year career in emergency services (EMT, firefighter, dispatcher), he's getting back to writing finally! He also loves reading fantasy novels and spending time with his dogs.
Copyright © 2025 by Troy Preston Dillon
Published by Orion's Beau
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