We are a long way from Plane Tree Drive. No plane trees, just a forest of Casuarinas stands in front of us and the blazing moon tips over the apex of the highest tree. The others have gone to sleep. My muscles feel shredded and my thighs throb. I’ve ignored the blisters on my feet for too long.
I sit with him on the balcony smoking weed – the reward after the climb. We blow blue-grey smoke into the air and pass the small joint between us, careful to avoid touching, though as I place the damp roll of paper to my lips I’m aware that it’s just come from him.
We talk about pointless crap – who was the fastest, who wimped out, who won’t make it back – to avoid saying anything that might matter, and I drift off into thrilling and dangerous places. I want to leave everything behind. I don’t want to protect my precarious and imperfect life anymore.
The joint is gone and I am joyous and hungry and pleasantly lightheaded. Now is the time, if there would ever be a time. I can say it’s just because I’m high.
I stand, straighten my bulky jacket and wriggle my numb toes in their stiff, muddy boots. I stamp the mud off, ignoring my screaming blisters.
Well, we did it, I say. The summit. I keep my tone level.
He stands too. We don’t hug as a rule, but the joint has freed us and hell, we just reached the top. We take a step towards each other with our arms half raised, eliminating the careful space we’ve always kept. I lean my body into him. We match, from our thighs through our hips, chests and to our cheeks. I take a breath, slowly in, feeling his body move with mine, and slowly out. I hold him longer than would be considered appropriate, but he holds me too.
He turns his head and I feel his breath flow over the exposed skin of my neck, carrying a soft humidity that hints of the tropics in this cold forest and spreads goose bumps down my shoulders. My skin puckers and bursts through the warmth of my thermals. This air expelled from deep within him arouses me beyond reason.
We do not let go.
The sweetness of the joint lingers in his hair and his arms are thick around me. I catalogue these things, file them into my memory, for later.
The time to end this moment has long passed, but I can feel his erection, throbbing against mine. Just when I think this is the most exciting sensation I’ve ever experienced, he presses his lips into the nape of my neck. He is hesitant, as though he’s giving himself the option of calling it an accident. But my intake of breath is so sharp that he can’t mistake my response. He continues. My eyes are closed against the forest and I push my cock harder against his. His kiss explores my ear lobe, finally reaching some electric place just below it and the question I had prepared and discarded, my complicated life and his responsibilities are all irrelevant. My thoughts are set free and feeling swarms into the moonlight. I can no longer summon any sensation of Jennifer’s touch.