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I climb out of the car. We're both quiet – there's nothing to say now. But it's an excited, electrically charged kind of quiet. The calm before the storm. When we do speak, it's with as few words as possible, spoken in hushed and muted tones.
“Need help?” I ask as Tyler grabs the tent bag.
“Got it,” he says.
Now, God bless him for being so thoughtful, but the swim trunks Tyler bought me are probably a size or two too small. I don't normally show this much thigh, and I usually prefer a little more, ahem, room. And as we walk through the State Park, with the other fellow campers ambling by here and there, I have to stuff my hands into my too-shallow swim trunk pockets to try to hide what I've, uh, got going on.
Because Tyler's kiss got me hard as a rock and anyone who looks will know it. There's a giant bulge that protrudes down my left leg.
I wonder about him? I take a peek out of the corner of my eye. That's when I notice he's carrying the tent bag so that it covers his crotch.
Ha ha, I laugh quietly to myself.
But I have to say, I'm confused ... about us, I mean. I thought what I'd been through with Tyler before – on the roof-top – was nothing more than the case of a curious straight guy who'd had one too many drinks. Like I've said, it happens, whatever 'it' is, or whatever 'it' means.
I definitely never expected anything else to happen, though.
So all I can do while we walk through the park – this time taking a different path, one that forks off and leads to the camp grounds – is bite my cheeks and try not to smile too big. Because whatever's happening is uncharted territory for me.
This is definitely a first. And I don't wanna get my hopes up too much.
We reach our camp site. We're isolated from the other campers. We're nestled in a tight spot with the trees all around us, right on the coast, overlooking the bluffs and the ocean below. It's a breathtaking spot.
“Damn, Tyler,” I huff quietly. “This is perfect.”
“Yeah.”
He lays down the gear. Pulls the tent out. He bought a big one, a fancy one that could easily sleep a few more people – hence the huge bill, I guess. But when he pulls it out of its bag, we're looking at a bunch of different poles and parts and cables and a set of instructions that looks like a phone book.
“Heh,” he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “Guess I shoulda got a smaller one, huh.”
“Why didn't you?”
“I guess I thought bigger was better ...” he says whimsically.
“Size queen ...” I rib him.
Yeah, he probably should've got a smaller one. But oh well.
We put the instructions on a tree stump and crouch around it to study it. I flip the booklet open and start reading the instructions aloud.
“Okay ... first we have to lay everything out ...”
But I get the distinct impression that I'm the one taking this seriously. Slowly, Tyler sidles behind me, reading the instructions over my shoulder. I can feel his presence over me, his warmth against my back.
“Uh huh,” Tyler says. I can hear his smile and feel his breath hot on my neck, and I know he's up to no good.
I try to stay focused. “Then we have to screw the poles together and work them through the support holes ...”
“Screw our poles together,” Tyler says irreverently. “Uh huh. Got it.”
“C'mon, be serious,” I say. And then I feel his hand on my side. My bare side. His touch takes the air right out of my lungs. “Tyler!” I gasp. “We've – we've gotta pitch our tent first ...”
He laughs. “Now you're throwing me alley-oops on purpose.”
“No, really!” I pant. “I don't want anyone to see us!”
His hand slides lower. Over my muscled obliques. He lays his index finger in the 'v' line that trails down my hard abdomen. His finger slowly follows the etched valley, making my sensitive skin tingle.
“Tyler ...” I gasp again, losing my resolve.
He presses his lips against my neck. His prickly stubble sends me into a ticklish fit. But he soothes me when his hand snakes under the waistband of my trunks and creeps down to my crotch. He finds my hardness and wraps his fingers around it.
I let out a breathy groan. “Oh.”
“But Callan,” he begins sarcastically, “it looks like you've already pitched your tent!”
He leans forward and drapes himself over my back. I feel his hardness against my lower back.
“Looks like you did too ... guess we didn't need any instructions for these, huh.”
He chuckles. “I'd hope not.”
He sits behind me, watching, peering over my shoulder as he reaches into my trunks and pulls my cock out. It throbs in his hands, in the cool air. The breeze whisks through the pine trees and their needles all around us.
“Tyler ...” I sigh as he slowly jerks me.
He stares intently, watching his own handiwork. I lean back against him, my body going weak in his hold. I love the feel of his cock, hot and achingly hard against my back.
“We really shouldn't be doing this,” I gasp. “Someone might see us out here.”
“So what?” he whispers in my ear, his breath warm on my lobe. “I don't care.”
“Oh god ...” I pant, melting between his muscled forearms.
His grip is loose on my shaft. He tugs slowly, pulling from the base until his fingers glance over my throbbing glans. Then he pulls back down again.
He whispers in my ear again. “I never told you how turned on I got when I saw you jerking it in the shower, Cal.”
“Oh shit,” I gasp as a jolt shoots up my spine and makes me tremble. “Tell me.”
“Your big hard cock. Damn, Cal. I wanted it. I didn't even know it at the time ... 'cause I was in such heavy denial. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. Like ... at all. I was so torn up about it, too.”
His hands grip me a little tighter. He tugs me a little faster, a little heavier.
“Oh god,” I sigh. “Tell me more.”
“When you shot your load all over the glass door? I was right in front of you. You hit the glass right in front of my face. And, the crazy thing is ... I had this image flash right through my mind. What if the door wasn't there? I saw what would happen. I felt the force of your load. Spurting all over my face, my mouth. I could taste it, too. The salty sweetness, trickling down my lips.”
“Oh my fucking god.”
I had no idea Tyler Vance was so dirty. My body lilts against him. My back melts into his muscular pecs and abs. He wraps his free hand around my chest to hold me up. His manly scent overcomes me. His other hand jerks me off faster and harder, until his tight fist is a blur on my shaft. My hips pump without my consent, thrusting my cock into Tyler's hand. A rumbling builds up inside me. My mouth falls open, but not a single sound can come out.
“And the other thing I never told you ... I stayed in that bathroom a bit longer ... I couldn't move! And then, you weren't even done, you started to beat it aga—WHOA DUDE!”
Surprised, Tyler shouts as a streak of my cum shoots against my abs. My seed spills down his fingers.
“I wasn't expecting that!” he yells. He aims my cock forward instead. I spasm and thrust myself into his fist helplessly. A salvo of my seed shoots into the grass, rains down on the tree stump, and even showers our tent instructions.
“Sorry!” I gasp as I regain control of myself. Random shockwaves ripple through me and I shiver against his hold. “I would've warned you, I just ... couldn't manage ...”
“It's okay,” he laughs. He lowers his voice and picks up the tainted tent instructions. “... That was pretty hot, honestly.”
I close my eyes and bask in the moment. But the ever-present hardness against my back reminds me: I've got to return the favor. I reach behind me and stroke him.
“Now it's my turn.”
But Tyler grabs my hand and pulls me away. “No way, dude.”
“Wha'?”
“Out here? In public? Who do you think I am?”
“Dick!” I roar and tackle him into the grass.
He cracks up. “I'm just kidding, man. But if we don't build this tent now it's gonna be dark and we won't be able to see what the hell we're doing.”
“Oh. Yeah. Good point. Let's do it.”
***
WITHIN AN HOUR WE'VE got our tent built. We head back to the car to get some more supplies. Padding, sleeping bags, fire starting tools.
We make it back just in time for the 'blue hour' to set in – that time during dusk when the Sun has already set, and it's not quite day anymore, yet not quite night, either. The sky, the landscape, the trees – everything takes on a lovely blue hue.
Me and Tyler sit side by side and watch the whole world go blue.
As lovely as it is, it's also something of a bittersweet reminder to what I'm trying to run away from. My future is in the blue hour, too. I'm not quite sure if it's beginning or ending. Or what.
“Hey,” I say, breaking up the quiet after a long, reflective silence. “Thanks again, man. For bringing me out here.”
“No problem. Beautiful night, isn't it?”
“Sure is.” I nod.
I take a deep breath. “I just want you to know ... that whatever happens to me? I'll keep quiet about this – about us. No matter what happens. You can trust me on that.”
He bobs his head thoughtfully. “I appreciate that,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
We sit shoulder to shoulder, taking in the majesty of the coast, the soothing rhythm of the waves coming to shore and then heading back out again. And soon, the blue hour is over, and the stars begin to turn on above us.
I stand up first. “Come with.” I grab him by the hand and lead him into the tent.