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The alarm on my iPhone rang at 6:30am.
I hadn't turned my iPhone on in days. I hadn't even thought about it, really.
Signal strength was low, but I was still connected. That's not good. I put it in Airplane Mode. I can't be bothered right out here. This is too good a world.
We slept in separate bags that night. That was my call. Reality was about to set in and we did not need to add in any confusion. Any more confusion. Mikey was bummed, but he understood. I think he respected my authority.
I got up, got dressed, did my pushups, started the water for coffee. Mikey stirred.
He came out of the tent and kissed me sleepily. I pushed him off. I told him he had morning breath.
While he brushed his teeth, I developed a new strategy: moving around and staying busy so he can't corner me.
Was I avoiding Mikey?
Hell yes I was avoiding Mikey. He was too tempting. I liked seeing him clothed, and I liked seeing him naked. I loved it when he smiled; I wanted to hold him to my chest when he was sad. I wanted to laugh with him, argue with him, chat about nothing at all. I wanted to do everything you can do to a man's body with him. I wanted to be one with him.
But today I couldn't be one with him, because today I had to be one with Nikki. And it was too painful to try to be one with both of them on the same day.
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Mikey felt the barriers I was erecting. Of course he could. If it hurt his feelings, he didn't show it. No, he was all business too--making breakfast, pancakes again--while I took down the tent.
I watched him as he squatted, flipping pancakes with an adorable amount of focus.
Fuck. That hickey I gave him was still there.
It had faded from deep purple down to a dark red. But it was distinctly a sex mark--if you've ever walked a high school hallway, you know just what it is.
"Mike... you've got a... a hickey on your neck."
"Oh yeah? How'd that happen?" He pulled a pancake off the griddle as intentionally-casually as he could.
I felt my face blush. "What if your sister sees it? She's probably going to see it."
"What if she does?"
So this is how it's going to be, I thought. Mikey, my intimate friend in the forest, was not going to be my co-conspirator in the cover-up.
Why should he be? He's been clear about his feelings. I know he wants me. Wants to be with me. From that perspective, the relationship I am currently in is immaterial. Doesn't matter how long it's lasted; doesn't matter that it's with his sister. He is in love. That is the beginning, middle, and end of the discussion.
For me, though, it's more complicated.
"Tell her that you met a girl in the forest--we found the same campsite, ended up sharing it and having a little bit of a party."
"Jesus. I have to be straight for this story?"
I didn't have a good excuse.
We ate our breakfast.
Well, we'd started the conversation.
And made exactly no progress.
+++++
Packed up and hit the trail. It was maybe 7:15? Nikki was meeting us at 10am, and we had six miles of trail left.
We hiked in total silence. We passed a two groups of hiker dudes. Just said hey. A harmless day on the Long Trail. Yep.
Mmmhmm.
The sun peered out of the clouds through the trees. We hadn't seen it in days. It burned a hole in the clouds, then burned them off all the way. I got sweaty, but it felt good to get wet, let my skin breathe a little.
We got to the parking lot--just a little gravel patch with room for a half-dozen cars--at 9:15. I threw my pack down, found a soft spot and sat down. Mikey did the same.
We did not talk.
I watched him whenever I was sure he wasn't watching me. He was pretend-cool, fake-relaxed, chill-but-not-chill.
What did he see when he looked at me?
After five minutes or so, Mikey broke the silence.
"So."
"So what?"
"So what the FUCK, man?"
Huh. Mikey was pissed off at me.
That was new.
"What do you mean, what the fuck?"
"Um, well, you haven't said a word to me. What happens now? What are we going to do? I don't know what you think. I don't know what you want."
"Mike, it's not that easy."
"Just tell me what you want!"
Why did we have to start with the hardest question first?
"I don't know! I don't know what I want, Mike! A week ago, I would have said to marry your sister and have you as my best man. Now..." I trailed off.
"Now what, Chris?" I couldn't say it out loud, even if Mikey and I both knew it. "NOW WHAT??"
I have this bad habit of saying stupid things in awkward situations. It works every time: suddenly, instead of addressing the key issue in a conversation, everyone is mad at me for the idiotic thing that just came out of my mouth.
My subconscious decided that now was the perfect time to deploy my strategy.
"Look. We were horny, we were in the woods, and we were bored. We were just getting our rocks off."
Mikey's eyes lit up with disbelief and rage. Who could blame him?
"We were just..." he repeated, as if he needed to hear it out loud again in order to believe it. "...getting our rocks off??"
His throat clenched as he said that last part. Out of hurt, and out of the comedy of it all. It was absurd. I had nearly begged Mikey to let me give him a blowjob. We had shared our most intimate stories--tales and fantasies about men and boys we'd known. I had asked him what his deepest fantasy was about me... then played it out for him. We were each currently carrying a pair of the other's dirty underwear to smell each other when we're gone. I came in his ass when he told me that he loved me.
Nevertheless, I persisted.
"Yeah man. What do you think this was? A love affair?"
I now marvel at what a dick thing that was to say.
Mikey's face welled up.
"We had fun. That was a blast. I'd do it again someday if we get the chance. But right now, I've got to... I'm going home with my girlfriend. Your sister." I'm not sure he was hearing me. "So just... straighten up, act cool, and it'll be fine. Just be yourself."
"Just be myself. That is... pretty fuckin' rich, man." He sat there, his swirl of emotion moving out of sadness and into white-hot anger. "You can put me off. You can go into the closet. But you can't deny what you and I had out there in the woods. Because you know and I know. And I might be younger than you, but I know it's pretty fucking rare. So play your charade, but know that I know it's bullshit. Every time you look me in the eye, know that I know."
He got up, walked out of the parking lot and down the road. There was nowhere to go--he just didn't want to be near me.
The piece-of-shit part of me--which might be the majority--legitimately had the thought, `I just won't look him in the eye, then.' That was one option.
For now, I had to sit with what I had done: started a love affair--and yes, it definitely was a love affair--then kicked it to the curb.
Whatever happened, I would deserve what I got.
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Mikey was out of my sight now. I could hear his footsteps fading. Then I couldn't hear them at all.
I sat and played it cool.
I picked up my iPhone, turned off Airplane Mode, and suddenly wished for signal.
The text icon said I had eight messages. A couple from a buddy about a college basketball game I didn't watch, a work colleague asking a stupid question, the rest from Nikki.
From three days ago: "hey sweetie hope you're taking care of my bro out there!" From two days ago: "thnking of you guys" From yesterday: A red heart emoji. From today: "on my way to pick you guys up!" and "traffic on the GWB... might be late"
I looked at the timestamp, thought about what Mikey and I had been doing at each time.
When her red heart came through, we had almost certainly been fucking.
I cursed my bad fortune and bad decision-making.
I looked at the clock. It was 9:40. If Nikki was supposed to pick us up at 10, and she hit traffic on the George Washington Bridge, she couldn't get here before, what, 10:15 at the earliest? I did some amateur math.
I might have time enough to turn this around--to un-fuck the situation I'd created.
I left my pack where it was at an angle to Mikey's, and took off jogging in the direction that Mikey went. He probably had a four-minute head start. I could catch him in two if he'd stayed on the road.
I ran as fast as I could. I could taste the blood in my mouth from the exertion. I felt like I was back in high school track, running the mile like I did back then. I'd have run a lot faster then,' I thought, if I'd been chasing after Mikey.'
The sound of kicked-up gravel was all I could hear as I sprinted. My senses were acutely tuned. I looked, listened, smelled for Mikey.
I heard something: a sound between my steps. It was just barely behind me--thank god I heard it because I would have been long past it seconds later.
It was just behind my left-shoulder, in the woods a step or two. I know it was just a sound, but I felt it strike me, plaintively, on the side/back of my neck.
It was a sob. It was Mikey.
I came to a skidding halt, ran into the forest where I heard him.
He was sitting on the ground, hidden by the sugar maples. He was just... crying.
I don't know if you've ever been in that position: losing love. It is as sad, as painful, as inexplicable, as inconsolable as Mikey's tears suggest.
Seeing him, I got a bit emotional too.
I had already decided what to do. His emotion would make it harder to do.
I crouched right in front of him. I put my hands on his wrists. I pulled his hands away from his face. I grasped his forearms firmly but tenderly. I looked into his watery eyes.
(For the record, some people look cute when they cry, and some people look ugly. I, for example, look ugly as fuck. It's not fair, but that's how it is. Mikey, on the other hand, looked somehow, impossibly, cuter, with his eyes red and his face wet with tears.)
I swallowed.
"Mike. Michael. Mikey... I'm so sorry..."
Mike looked up at me, still hurt, just listening.
"I'm sorry this is so hard to say."
A tear streamed down his cheek, landed on his lap.
I squeezed his forearms, stroked them lightly with my fingertips.
"I'm in a terrible position, Mikey. And I put myself there, and I know it. Between a woman that I love--a woman I have a long and beautiful history with..."
Mikey looked away, trying not to roll his eyes but failing.
"...and you."
Mikey looked back at me.
Here it was.
Here we were.
"I--..."
I asked myself in that moment: `do I really want to say this out loud?'
"I love you, Mikey. I love you so much it fucking hurts, man."
Mikey sort of smiled, coughed, and laughed at the same time, sending up tears and some loose phlegm he generated while he cried so hard.
"You talk about that first night we met? Well, I remember it too. I didn't necessarily want to sleep with you--not that night--but... I did fall in love with you. I didn't know what to call it then. I just thought I was lucky to have a little brother who was so funny, so charming, so kind. And that smile, that beautiful smile. I was addicted. How could I avoid it? You're just a miracle, Mike. A little miracle, right next to me.
"And I want to be with you too. I get that. And I'm so sorry I denied it... it's just... I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm still also totally in love with your sister. Whatever I do, I'm going to hurt someone. And I don't want to hurt anyone. Definitely not you--OR your sister.
"So hear me out, man. I need time. I need to get to the bottom of this. I need to think. Honestly, I need to get to know myself better. Because this is the hardest... the hardest decision I've ever had to make.
"Give me some time. A month or two, that's all. In the meantime, you can call me whenever you want. I'll be happy to talk through whatever feelings you have. Hell, maybe you'll meet someone else--someone better--and I can talk you through that... hard as that would be, for both of us.
"In the meantime, I want you to know that I love you. That I would fall on my fucking sword for you. That I've got your back, as only a big brother-plus-lover could."
That was meant as a laugh line. Mikey managed a wet smile.
"Because you're my guy, Mikey. You're my one and only, man, and I love you."
A beat.
Then Mikey flew into my arms, literally knocked me over. We rolled on the dirty, leaf-strewn forest floor making out wildly. We pressed our bodies together firmly, as close as we could.
This wasn't really kissing or making out--it was some sort of futuristic soul-discovery process? I don't know what to call it. Our mouths were entwined. Our teeth were knocking. Our tongues were trying to taste each other's insides.
And we both sprung the biggest boners of our lives because that's what males-in-love do.
Our tense cotton-poly shorts pressed together. We each scrambled to pull each other's pants and undies off and over our asses. Quickly our hard dicks were smashed against each other's bellies. My precum painted streaks all over Mikey's flat, taut stomach. His dick nestled into my pubic hair, rode its way up my ab wall.
I wanted him in my mouth. I grabbed his ass, set it down so I could stick his dick in my mouth. He was in position to take mine into his mouth.
He took advantage. He swallowed me whole, devouring my hard dick to the root. I groaned, plunged my mouth down onto his dick.
We thrust into each other's mouths, moaning from the pleasure of getting our own dicks sucked like that and the joy of giving each other that pleasure. Our stomachs and chests pressed together. I reached around his ass, played with his tight little hole, his ass cheeks, his soft in-between spot, his ballsack.
I wanted to destroy him with pleasure, wanted myself to be destroyed by it too. I wanted us to spin on like this forever. We were the first particles in the universe--the ones whose spin and friction determined the course of history.
Years later, I told a close friend about this moment. He joked that we were "like Adam and Steve." It might have been a dumb joke, but it wasn't far off. We were the only two men in the world. All of the universe surrounded us, was created for us. And our pleasure together was the only thing that mattered.
We groaned and moaned onto each other's dicks without pause. I thrust my head wildly on his dick, trying to fuck his dick into my mouth... surpassing my previous blowjob without even really trying.
He began to swell in my mouth, that tight-as-a-drum tension that I now recognized.
He was about to cum. So was I.
We both thrust uncontrollably.
The fuse was lit.
We waited, sucked, thrust madly.
Finally: the bomb went off.
Mikey's dick exploded in my mouth. I could feel the force of his first two shots, pumping semen into the back cavity of my mouth and down my throat.
My dick meanwhile was erupting in Mike's mouth. I screamed out onto his dick as it spurted. It's a wonder we didn't choke or suffocate that day. "They drowned on cum. Tragic. They died doing what they loved," read our fictional obituaries.
We survived with no damage done: just a tender mouth and a load of each other's cum in our stomach.
After we finished spurting spastically into each other's mouths, we collapsed, spent, to the ground. My arm was still looped under Mikey's thigh. My fingertips grazed the top of his leg. I could feel the energy flowing between us where my fingers barely touched his skin.
I came to, finally. I tried to speak. "Mike... that was..." Then I ran out of words.
We rested for a few more minutes. We got up to our elbows, looked each other in the eye. We knew each other now better than we had before. Certainly better than before the trip, but better even than a half-hour ago. There was more than just lust here, and he was right: I did know it.
We stood up, dusted ourselves off. I playfully swatted at his ass, knocking leaves and dirt off that wasn't there. He grabbed me firmly by the shoulders, ceasing my swatting, and looked into my eyes with kindness and seriousness.
"I'm going to kiss you right now--once more." He had the tone of a teacher who needed his student to learn. "Then we're going to walk back to our packs. While we walk, we're going to transition back into being brothers--not permanently, but for now. While you are figuring your situation--figuring yourself--out.
"No harm. No shame. Just a readjustment while we move forward--and so I don't go completely insane in the meantime.
"I won't call you. I probably won't fall in love and lean on your for advice, either. But you need time, and I respect that.
"And whenever you're in doubt, know that this is how I feel about you."
Mikey pulled me into him gently. This time we kissed. It was gentle, smooth, soft. I could taste my cum in his mouth, and he could taste mine. We mingled our tongues gently. I put my hands on the sides of his neck, sending energy back into him.
After a minute or two, we broke the kiss. Our hands met down low. We looked each other one last time in the backs of our eyes, into the soul part...
...and then our hands parted.
We turned and walked silently, slowly towards the pickup point.
The transition walk was short, painful, and wise.
I could feel his love burning in me, even without physical touch or conversation.
I hoped he could feel mine.
We got back to the pickup point. Our packs were sitting there, and so was Nikki, leaning against the Subaru, next to the packs.
"There you are! Geez... you guys had me scared!" Nikki's clean, clear soprano rang out.
"Sorry baby. We went for a... nature walk." Mikey stifled a laugh.
She walked towards me, ready for a big embrace, and I had the sudden realization that I had her brother's cum--and my own--on my breath.
Hey readers! As always, drop me a line at jack.straight@hotmail.com if you want.
Also: I'm going to take a break... I love this story and these guys so much, and I'll come back to them. But I need to do some work on projects that pay me. If anyone knows how to make gay erotica pay, well, definitely email me about that.
Cheers, guys.