Sugar, Butter, Flour, and Love - Chapter 29: Chapter 29
You are reading Sugar, Butter, Flour, and Love, Chapter 29: Chapter 29. Read more chapters of Sugar, Butter, Flour, and Love.
Me and Manny were catching up at the basketball court housed in the gym the both of us went to. He was officially out of a cast and although he was taking it easy he wanted to shoot around and talk.
"I think me and Marí might actually get married soon..." he started off hesitantly. Manny and his fiancée were on again off again childhood sweethearts but they'd only gotten serious in the past few years. Once they had gotten serious they got engaged after six months of dating because Marísol had gotten pregnant and Manny was traditional in that way. He wasn't about to be an unmarried father.
But then...they'd lost the baby. It had been the first trimester but it was still so unexpected it had sent Manny and Marí reeling. They didn't feel like they could get married under those circumstances and had opted for a long engagement. It had been almost four years since then and I understood that they needed time to process what had happened. There had been a time when Manny told me he felt like he'd lost his faith in God. He couldn't understand why something like that had had to happen.
I'd tried to be there for him in my own way but he would just seem so far away from me. One night we'd had drinks in his apartment and Manny was a bit drunk when he admitted when he wanted to name the baby after me.
He'd had his hands in his hair and looked irritated. "I keep thinking what things would've been like by now. You know, with another mijo. You'll always be mijo to me and I wanted to name the...I wanted to name the baby after you." Manny started to cry and I scooted over on the couch and folded my arms around him. "You're such a good guy and so pure. And, babies are like that, too. So good. I don't understand. Was I not good enough? I know Marí is. So it had to be me. Maybe I didn't pray enough. Maybe I drink too much." Manny was half-laying on my chest, soaking my shirt with his tears. "I don't know how to be okay again."
I petted Manny's hair, feeling heartbroken for my closest friend. I never thought of what it would be like to lose a child or even the idea of getting someone pregnant because I was gay and I didn't know if I wanted children. I didn't know if I wanted to subject myself to thousands of dollars for surrogacy or preparing for an adoption process. So, I just didn't think about it.
But, Manny had always wanted to be a dad. I knew he'd be great at it, too. He'd accepted me despite my stuttering and my awkwardness and my anxiety. I knew that if he had a kid, no matter how they turned out, he'd love them unconditionally.
At the time I'd tried to be honest. "I think you'll be okay again," I said softly, stroking his hair, "maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually. You pray all the time and you don't drink too much. Sometimes, terrible things happen and it's not anyone's fault. And one day you guys will have a kid. And they don't have to have my name, and they'll be healthy. And you'll be an amazing parent. You're so good to me even though I— even though I'd understand if you weren't."
Manny sniffled loudly. "Aw, mijo. And I like taking care of you, so it's no biggie. I just wish— things had turned out differently. Then you'd have another niece or nephew. CJ could've had a little cousin." Then all of a sudden Manny was crying again. "We still have all that fucking baby clothing. We told people too fast. Mierda. Next time will be different."
I let Manny ramble and cry for a few more minutes before he fell asleep. After he started to drool on my shirt I shook him awake and brought him to my room. He stripped down to his boxers and stared at the ceiling while lying down.
Manny had deeply tanned skin, his hair was dark brown and wavy, always curling around his ears. He had a dimple in his chin that was nearly impossible to see because of the constant 5-o clock shadow on his face. And although he was about five foot ten he had a thick, stocky frame. Manny always seemed so big to me. Maybe because he was four years older than me and he acted brotherly.
But, right then on my bed, he seemed small, and I didn't know to make him not seem that way anymore.
"Can I ask you something?" He slurred slightly.
"Anything, Manny," I said quietly, staring up at the ceiling but not sure what he saw.
"Can I sleep over?"
"You're already in my bed."
"Oh, right. Is this weird?"
"No."
"I'm glad you're my best friend. One day you're gonna find a guy who takes care of you and he's gonna be so lucky. But, don't leave me, okay? At least need me a little bit."
I covered my face. "Today's not about me, Manny and you're my best friend. I would never leave you." It felt weird to remind Manny that I had a boyfriend in that moment. But I felt like I had to. "And Carter does take care of me," I said quietly.
He sighed. "Not the way you need."
"I don't understand."
Manny murmured something too soft for me to hear and pulled up the covers. It didn't take much longer until he fell asleep. He grabbed my hand right before his eyes closed and it took a while for his grip to loosen.
Manny didn't care about gender roles, or the fact I was gay and he wasn't. He was hopelessly affectionate with everybody and longed for physical contact. He tried his best with me by not pushing but I knew sometimes I had to compromise. As much as I wanted to be there for him it mentally exhausted me to touch him so much. Physical comfort didn't come naturally to me and I had to walk myself through doing all the things I knew Manny responded to.
Once he was sound asleep, I slipped out of bed and went back to the living room to check my phone. I'd forgotten to tell Carter I wasn't going to head to his place that night anymore. I couldn't just leave Manny.
And then I saw the messages.
D, where are you?
you said you'd be here by now.
next time, try to update me.
Are you with him??
wanted to surprise you but nvm
i wish you would answer your phone
next time I have you to myself, I'm never letting you go. Haha, jks.
My roommate is seeing his gf tonight so we have the place to ourselves. Will that convince u?
And then there was a picture that made my throat dry and my stomach tight. Carter was my first boyfriend and I didn't know much about relationships but sometimes I felt...overwhelmed. Sexual stuff wasn't the reason I got a boyfriend and that would never tempt me away from a friend in need.
But I dialled Carter's number anyways and he picked up on the first ring. "Finally!" He said, "where have you been all this time?"
"Just with Manny," I said quietly, "he's..." I wracked my brain for any excuse, "not feeling so well."
Carter sighed. "Right, okay. Can he keep it together for the rest of the night? I really wanted us to make use of my empty apartment." He had that voice on. Deep and warm and hungry. Carter wasn't usually so single minded but when he was stressed he could be a bit selfish. But Carter's stress was coming from his PhD application...not anything I could help with.
"I can't leave him alone tonight, Carter, I'm really sorry."
"Okay then," he sounded like he was trying not to sound annoyed, "I'm just going to have to entertain myself tonight. I'll see you tomorrow...have a good night."
Me and Carter saw each other almost every day even though that felt too intense. Even though I cared about him I found him a bit overwhelming. He was always so talkative and upbeat that I could never really get a word in. But he was frighteningly tuned in to how I felt about things and he could read me like a book. Sometimes, Carter pushed more than I was comfortable with. We'd been together for about a year now, and I was happy. I just wondered why Carter didn't try to listen to me more.
After that I cleaned up the beer cans and tidied up a bit before getting back into the bed with Manny. In my heart it felt right to be there with him. It was so rare that he needed me and I wasn't going to fuck things up.
#
All that had happened almost four years ago and I was happy that Manny and his fiancée felt like they could get married. It was a relief.
Manny grinned. "Yeah and you're gonna be my best man."
My eyes widened and I dropped the basketball. It bounced briefly before rolling on the ground. "What?! Why?!"
He snickered. "You could at least pretend to be excited about it."
"Well," I stuttered, "I'm not. I can't give a speech or host a stag party or wherever best men do. I don't want to go to a strip club."
"No one's going to a strip club, D. Calm down. I just want you by my side at the wedding, and we can cut the speech if you don't want to do it. The bachelor party will just be me and the guys and you at my place playing video games and drinking booze. I'd never disrespect my girl by going to a strip club, anyways. You can invite your boyfriend to the wedding if you want but we want it to be next summer so there's time for you to consider things."
That relieved me and I was finally able to pick up the basketball. "Okay, wow. The last wedding I went to was Cyrus' so this is a lot."
He clasped me on the arm. "You'll do great. Now, that's enough about me. You're supposed to update me on everything in your life and," Manny waggled his thick brows suggestively, "your guy."
I flushed, entirely unused to Manny teasing me. But, I did fill him in. I skipped over some stuff like me and Trace's first time together and focused on work. I told him about how I was considering leaving the bakery and how I'd finally responded to my backlog of emails and my camping trip with Trace.
It was always easy to confide in Manny but I tried not to talk about anything too embarrassing. But Manny seemed to have caught on anyways.
"So you guys finally touched butts, huh?"
I flinched, feeling my face heat up. "Manny!"
"I know you, mijo, something is different. But, I'm glad you're getting some. It's been a while, huh? How long have you two been together?"
I dribbled the basketball absently as I thought. "It's crazy, this weekend will be our six months." For a second, I lost control of the basketball as I took in what I said. Manny picked it up as it rolled over to him. "Oh no," I mumbled, "Oh no. Oh no. Oh no."
Manny walked over to me with the basketball. His voice was low and concerned, "Hey D, it's okay."
"No," I said quickly, "it is so not okay. That's why he wants to go camping. That's why he made such a big deal on our date the other day. That's why he wants me to meet his parents! I've been so wrapped up in myself I completely forgot. It's our six month anniversary! Oh my God, we're leaving tomorrow morning and I don't even have a gift. Maybe six months isn't a big deal to him? Maybe it is? How do I know? Do I ask? Do I not ask? Should I just get something anyways in case? Why else would he ask me to go camping this weekend?"
I took the basketball from Manny's hand and started to dribble fast, just so my hands could keep busy.
"Are you sure, Darius?" Manny said slowly, "you don't have to get stressed. We can go shopping for something cool right now. I'm free this evening and I can come with you to find something."
I stopped dribbling and stared at Manny as my eyes welled. "You don't mind?"
His expression softened. "Of course, not. I'm sure you have a little list of all the things he likes since you do that with everybody."
I flushed. "I do have a list. It's somewhere on my phone. If I remembered I would've made him something...that would've been best."
Manny and I made our way to the locker room as we changed and got ready for the showers. This facility had both communal showers and individual stalls. I fit better in the communal shower and other guys knew not to stare at other guys' junk so I washed off clinically and changed quickly in the locker room. Manny finished a few minutes after me and we made our way to his car.
I browsed through the list I'd been building on my phone. Trace had grumbled once that he was into video games, anime, and manga but that it didn't make him an otaku. But, in all honesty I thought it made him a bit of an otaku. He was as into all those things as he was into zombies. I guess it kind of made him a nerd but I found it hot so I couldn't complain.
We went from store to store but nothing really felt right. Fan merchandise for a six month anniversary? Yeah, that didn't feel right. And then we went to a craft store and I was tempted to buy fabrics but I didn't even know if I had enough time or an idea of what I wanted to make. We went round and round for almost an hour before Manny got a craving for ice cream and we took a break on a bench.
"Why don't you just bake him something?" Manny asked as he attacked his ice cream. He really ate like a straight man despite all the time he spent around me.
I sipped at my milkshake before replying, "Isn't that boring?"
"I'm sure he loves how well you bake and at the end of the day it doesn't matter what you get him. He'll be happy because he loves you."
I mumbled something incoherent and Manny laughed.
After our ice cream break, we went around the shops a little more before I ended up choosing something. Then, Manny drove me home and surprised me with a hug at my doorstep.
He squeezed me tight. "Have a good trip, mijo. If you need anything you just call me. Alright?"
"Yes, alright," I said. The two of us said our goodbyes and I went up to my apartment.
#
That evening I had to cancel a movie date with Trace as I worked like mad to get his gifts together. He seemed disappointed that I cancelled and asked more than once if I didn't want to go camping anymore and that it was okay if I didn't want to.
But I assured him I wasn't up for the movies but I'd be ready to see him when he picked us up for our camping weekend trip.
I worked hard that evening to get things together and then packed and repacked my bags so that everything would fit nicely.
Then, I realized I should probably bake something tasty for Trace and I went to my kitchen and put on my apron. Cupcakes seemed fitting and a quick bake so I got to work. When I was done I put everything away in my fridge and got ready for bed.
It was only as my eyes were closing shut that I realized something. Did Trace want us to do stuff during the camping trip?
I called Trace and waited forever as the phone continued to ring. Eventually, his sleep stricken voice picked up, "Yes, baby?"
That had been happening more and more often lately and Trace's pet term made me feel strangely squishy inside. I didn't dislike it.
"Uhm," I started, "I have a question?"
"Mhmm?" Trace encouraged.
"Will we— In the tent at night....do you expect us to... you know?"
Trace paused and I could hear him waking up a bit more. "I'm down for almost anything but I don't think you'd be comfortable in the tent. But if you're asking if I packed lube and condoms then yes."
"So you expected us to—"
"No, I don't actually expect us to do anything except snuggle but I just need to be prepared in case that changes."
"Oh," I said softly, "it's just you said you want me to have a good time and to have it be special...so, I thought maybe, that you meant that."
"We don't need to be having sex for it to be special between us, Darius," Trace said quietly, "is it okay if I sleep now?"
I flushed. "Yes, yes, of course. I didn't mean to bother you. Good night, Trace."
There was a pause before Trace replied. His voice got even deeper somehow, "What are you wearing?"
"Uh, just my boxers."
"Hmm," Trace murmured, as he shuffled on his end of the line, "what colour?"
"Uh, black. Why do you ask?"
Trace laughed. "You know why."
"I don't."
"Do you wanna know what I'm wearing?"
"Uhm—"
"I'm not wearing anything."
For a second I stopped breathing and sat up in my bed so fast my head spun. I let out a garbled noise and tried to think.
"Do you want to keep talking or go to bed?"
"Trace," I groaned, "how am I supposed to go to bed after that?"
His voice went soft, "it's your choice."
"I want you to keep ...keep going."
"Take your boxers off, Darius."
"Oh God," I murmured, pulling at, and and fumbling at the band of of my boxers. It felt like it took years to take them off and then they were caught around my ankles and I kicked them onto the floor. "They're off," I whispered.
"You're naked?" His voice was just about a low purr.
"Do my socks count?"
Trace laughed loudly into the phone for several seconds. "Well, I guess not."
"Okay, then I'm ready," I said quietly.
"Okay, baby," Trace said in a rough voice filled with heat.
#
Trace stopped by for breakfast at my apartment the next morning where I'd made some chocolate blueberry pancakes, and cinnamon buns. I made enough for the two of us and Trace looked happy to see me when I let him in.
But instead of hello the first thing he did was ask me a question. "Can I get a hug?"
I responded with a hug and Trace relaxed in my arms. It took me a moment to realize he was shaking. "Are you okay?" I asked gently into his hair. It smelled like some kind of citrusy shampoo.
He hugged me tighter. "Some fucking asshole cut me off. God, I'm so mad. But, I need to calm down because we're supposed to have a great weekend. You smell good, this place smells good, I'm starving, your hugs make me feel safe. I'll be okay." But Trace continued hugging me for several more seconds until his body was still. "I'm okay," he said softly, but it sounded more like he was talking to himself.
He came into my doorway and sat on a stool to remove his shoes. I watched him carefully but he did seem okay. After he got his shoes off we sat at my dining table and had breakfast. Trace was oddly quiet as we ate and it was weird because he was usually the conversation starter. He'd said he was okay, but there was something wrong.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I said, "you can tell me if something's wrong. You don't always have to be the one to...listen to me. I can listen to you, too."
Trace gave me a gentle smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "I just really hate when I'm driving and something goes wrong. It fucks with me for the rest of the day. The only serious car accident I've been in was when I—when I lost my leg. I don't want anything else to happen. And now I know I'll be agitated for the rest of the day because my leg is acting up."
"Acting up?" I asked gently.
Trace scrunched his face and it made him look particularly young. "Yeah. It feels uncomfortable. Tight. Like I need to stretch it out. But I can't. Because there's nothing there."
"I'm sorry," I said quickly, "I can drive, okay? You don't have to if you don't want to."
Trace relaxed. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."
Once we got in the car I had to adjust a few things to fit comfortably. The rearview mirror, but then we were driving and Trace was still quiet. He frowned at all the cars on the road and sighed frequently. I didn't want to ask him again if he was okay because I was sure he wasn't but he'd keep telling me he was.
And so the only sound in the car was the sound of the gps every now and then.
Trace sat up suddenly. He turned to me and his gaze felt intense. "Anata wa—"
"Is that Japanese?" I interrupted gently, glancing at Trace for a second before returning my eyes to the road.
"Oh shit. I'm sorry," Trace sounded frazzled.
I laughed. "It's okay, that was kind of cute."
Trace paused. "You've never called me cute before."
"I haven't?"
"I would remember." Several seconds passed before Trace continued, "Say it again."
"Uh?" My face started to heat up and my hands tightened around the wheel. "Again?"
"Yeah."
"I think you're cute," I said softly, "I like how soft your hair is, and how wavy it is. I like the way your eyes crease when you smile. I like your voice, and how you say my name. I like when you sing. I like a lot of things, Trace." It helped that I wasn't looking at him.
"Can we pull over?" Trace asked quietly.
I pulled over to the shoulder and we sat in silence for a while.
"I understand if you're mad at me and you don't trust me," Trace began slowly. His pace was measured and slow, as if each word was a struggle, "But, I didn't really know how to say it. I have PTSD from the accident where...yeah. I've had it for twelve years now and I don't usually have too many symptoms. I just have a bad temper, I get nightmares and sometimes I can't be around cars. I can't be in here right now." Trace unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the passenger side of the car.
I made sure everything in the car was off and I pocketed the keys before scooting across from the driver's seat to the passengers seat and following Trace out the door.
The right shoulder of the highway was up against a lot of greenery and high weeds. Trace sat on the ground with his back against the car and his feet splayed out in front of him. Trace's head was tipped up to the sky and his expression was stormy. I sat down beside him and he leaned against my shoulder.
"It was worse after the accident," he started slowly, "phantom pain, irrational anger and anxiety around cars. But as time went on it got a lot better. Mostly. I try not to let it fuck up my life as much as it used to. I don't want it to define me. " His voice was rough and he sounded depressed, "I didn't want to ruin our weekend..."
"You're not ruining our weekend," I said. In all honesty, I wasn't exactly surprised Trace had PTSD from his car accident. He seemed to have other hidden and not so hidden scars from losing his leg. It didn't make him less than it just made him who he was. "Can you look at me for a second, please?"
Trace sat up a bit more and looked at me. He was seriously gorgeous. All high cheekbones, and that constant frown framing his full mouth and his dark, intelligent eyes. And his skin that flirted somewhere between gold and bronze. My favourite part of his face were his eyes. Trace had a way of looking at me that made me freeze up as much as it made me burn. I was addicted to it.
I took his hand and started folding our fingers together. "I think it's normal to have some issues after a traumatic accident. Even without labels I could tell that your amputation has affected you in a lot of ways."
"It has," Trace said quietly, squeezing my hand hard, "I know I'm lucky that I can afford my prosthetics and resources to live a mostly normal life. I know I'm lucky that I didn't get worse injuries in the crash..."
"But this is normal," I assured him quickly, "this is your normal, Trace. You run triathlons, and you make video games and you're a twin and a son and a good friend and an amazing boyfriend. You not having a leg doesn't mean that your life can only be mostly normal. Different isn't abnormal."
"Gosh," Trace said softly, "I could say the same thing to you." His eyes were glassy and he sniffled once before he laughed. "You really are too sweet, Darius." He gave me a hug and I held him tight. We sat there for a few minutes in quiet. Trace's head was buried in my chest and he was much quieter than I'd learned to expect from him. But soon, he moved out of the hug and frowned. "I'll feel a bit better later but let's get to the campsite. Being on the edge of the highway is freaking me out."
We stood up and Trace dusted his pants off and I did the same to mine. The two of us got back in the car and he double checked to make sure all the gear in the backseat of the car was properly strapped down. Then, we were off.
#
Another ninety minutes of driving and the roads got emptier and narrower as we continued north to the site.
"We're almost there," Trace said excitedly, "I really like this place because it's just away from everything. I find it really calming to be in nature. We're lucky that we're probably getting that last good weekend before Fall sets in. Today we can set up and take a walk around the site. Oh! We're here, just keep going down here and turn right to the registration."
I felt like I was in a nature magazine. Everything was so wide open and spread out. There weren't any buildings or skyscrapers in sight. It was just earth, grass, tall, mature fir trees interspersed with trees coloured the typical red, yellow, green and brown of Fall. There was even a lake and I could see some people canoeing. Or was it kayaking? I wasn't sure I knew the difference.
Trace's mood had lifted considerably as we parked and he got out a printed sheet with his registration. The registration was simple and Trace was friendly with with the worker who happened to recognize him.
"Do you come here a lot?" I asked after we got checked in.
He laughed, and he sounded free and weightless. God, I loved the sound of it. "I've been coming here for years actually. I've brought Nalini, and even my parents. All my friends. Usually, I just go alone though. In the summer, I used to go one weekend a month and do a lot of writing but work and other projects have kept me pretty busy."
Trace took the wheel on our way to the campsite and soon we were there. There was a dry piece of ground in between some really tall trees and it all overlooked a clear blue lake.
-
Source: /www.planetware/photos-large/CDN/ontario-algonquin-provincial-park-mew-lake-campground.jpg
Idea of what their campsite looks like. Their plot is nearby the lake, sandwiched by some trees, relative privacy to other plots, comes with a fire place, a little wooden table and an outlet. Some would call this "glamping" or glamorous camping because of the inclusion of an outlet. So yeah.
—
It was really pretty, what with the lake and the trees but it was also pretty barren. There was a small pole sticking out of the ground where I figured the outlets would be and I was glad we weren't doing the kind of camping where I couldn't charge my phone.
I got out of the car and stretched, suddenly embarrassed when my stomach started grumbling. I coughed to cover it up but Trace laughed.
"It's okay, we'll set up the tent and then start something on the camp stove I brought. And we can have the left overs from breakfast this morning." Trace seemed relaxed and I was really appreciating his outfit. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt, a vest and his pants were made out of some thick material but it still framed his ass really nicely. I flushed at the thought that I'd been more than well acquainted with all of Trace's fun bits and pieces.
"Alright, I'm ready to build the tent," I said, starting to pull the hefty tent bag out of the boot of the car. I was going to get my mind out of the gutter and focus on the task at hand.
Trace had an easy smile on his face when he replied, "Didn't you say you've never built a tent before?" He helped me lift the bag out onto the floor and he started to clear off any stray twigs around the floor.
"You can just boss me around and tell me what to do. That seems to come naturally to you," I said easily.
Trace gasped, and stopped what he was doing. "Wow, all of a sudden you've got jokes, huh?"
I grinned. "Am I wrong?"
"If I didn't find you so cute I might be offended."
"I thought you find me 'adorable'?"
Trace rolled his eyes. "Obviously. Help me clear the floor a little before we set up the tent."
I started following Trace's direction and when he announced the ground was clear enough we started to set up the tent. The first thing that I realized was that there were a lot of pieces, and it was a giant assemblage of fabric and plastic sticks. But Trace seemed to make sense of it easily and soon a tent started to take shape.
"What kind of tent is this?" I asked as it got bigger and bigger...and bigger. Trace had said he'd take care of the tent and the sleeping situation so I'd left it up to him. But, I was realizing this tent could double as a small house because of the sheer size of it.
"I needed to find something that you could actually stand up in and that ended up being a big tent. Can you grab that flap?" Trace asked.
I did what he asked and then he started to pump air into the side of the tent where there was a valve. Miraculously, the tent started to inflate. "Wow," I said softly, watching as Trace pumped air into different valves and then put the pump away. Then, he started to pull strings that were attached to the tent and driving them into the ground with stakes.
I tried to copy him but I wasn't sure if I was doing it right.
"These are called guy lines or guy ropes and we just really want to make sure our tent is secure. So, push it a little deeper into the ground, Darius."
I did just that and we worked around the tent until it was finished. All in all, it had taken less than twenty minutes and I was surprised.
We started to unpack the car and the first thing Trace started pulling out was another contraption to assemble. This one was much more complicated and it took more time than the tent. It ended up being a screened canopy that Trace put over the wooden table.
"We don't want any bees or hornets bothering us," Trace explained, "especially since there's a lot of nests nearby."
"Right," I said uncertainly, I had a thing against bees. I just really hated the sound of buzzing when it was by my face.
Then, Trace started setting up the tent, and I was surprised by the number of comfort items he was pulling out of the car. There was an entrance mat, foam tiles for the floor, an inflatable mattress, bedsheets, a duvet and pillows. Even a small fold out table and freakishly large first aid kit. By the end it looked incredible. Way more comfortable than I thought it would be.
"Do you like it?" Trace asked as I looked over the camp site. He sounded a bit nervous and like my answer would mean a lot to him.
I turned to him and gave him a hug. "Yes." Trace was still for a long moment before he wrapped his arms around me and inhaled my scent.
His voice was soft and muffled against my chest,"Good."
#
The tent:
Coleman's Air Valdes 6XL tent
Picture Source: /www.coleman.eu/FR/images/Product/medium/26801.jpg
One minute video/visual tour of the tent: /www.youtube/watch?v=gU-iUC3TyFc
[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]
Screened Canopy over the boys' dining table:
Source: /www.amazon/EVER-ADVANCED-Outdoor-Screened-Zippered/dp/B083M1TL6N/ref=as_li_ss_il?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&refRID=2RFEYQXC9XXZ8FNZJQ41&linkCode=li3&tag=family-camp-tents-20&linkId=ac3f893886619cd060a5d6098b6a55d9&language=en_US
#
After setting up the tent, Trace pulled out a small cooking appliance and started to fry up an amazing amount of bacon and eggs, and we ate the left overs of our pancakes and cinnamon buns from breakfast. The experience didn't really feel like camping to me. I was having too much fun.
"I thought we were supposed to be 'roughing it'?" I asked after adding some syrup to my pancakes.
Trace had a bunch of condiments in a little rack he'd assembled and I was eating good. He laughed at my enthusiasm and used a finger to wipe a droplet of syrup at the edge of my mouth. I didn't mind so much when Trace touched my face but anywhere near my mouth always felt suggestive. Like the precursor to...something.
He stuck his finger between his lips and gave me a look. "Baby, you don't have a 'roughing it' bone in your body."
"I could totally rough it," I mumbled, somewhat thrown by the sensuality of his expression.
"I usually camp in a two person tent in a sleeping bag."
I wrinkled my nose. "Sleeping bags don't fit me, that's not fair."
"This is what I mean," he said with a kind laugh. "But, it's alright. I don't really care what we're doing as long as we do it together."
I smiled. "Are you quoting me?"
Trace actually blushed. "Yes, Darius. Now, can I kiss you?"
I nodded and Trace gave me a mind melting kiss. He wrapped his hand around my neck and kissed me hard. "Thank you for coming on this trip with me, Darius, it means a lot. Even though I know you're going through a lot right now."
Trace was holding my hand and tracing the lines on my palm. I was feeling soft and fuzzy inside and very comfortable. If I didn't say it now I didn't think I'd be able to say it later. But, I took a big breath and tried to stabilize my thoughts. "I've been thinking it for a while...but I wanted to say I love you. I—love you in a romantic way. I mean, I know you're already my boyfriend and all and you told me how you felt at the hotel almost two months ago but I wanted to reciprocate. Even if it's been a while. And I.. ah." I swallowed. "You care about me and take care of me in a way no one ever has before. Even though I have a-a-anxiety and a pa-panic disorder."
Trace started to interrupt me but I spoke over him.
"And I know that— that just because I have issues doesn't mean I don't deserve good things. Or, at least I'm learning that little by little, and I'm glad that you help me to see that. I'm glad that while I'm growing and becoming more...sure of myself that you don't mind waiting for me to get there. I love that you try to understand me and how you don't coddle me. And I love your kisses and your smile and even when we sleep together, I'm thankful you're willing to go at my pace." Now that I'd started, I didn't know if I'd be able to stop. "And I love how dedicated you are to your passions, like your job and writing, and how confident you are. And how much you laugh and smile when you're around me. I like how you seem happier when you're around me. I love how you try to show me new things and take me new places and how you just say what's on your mind. I admire how fearless you are. At least...to me you seem fearless. And, I just...have trouble saying things but I mean everything I do say. And I mean it when I say: I'm in love you."
I took a big breath and waited for Trace to say something.
But he was just sitting there, sitting very still with a dazed expression on his face. Then, his eyes teared up and my heart stopped when he started crying. One big tear dropped down his face, and then another and then there were just a torrent of tears.
I yelped. "What's happening? Why are you crying? Did I do something? Are you in pain?"
Trace wiped at his tears and laughed. The sound came out garbled and wet. "I'm happy."
I froze. "What?"
He laughed again and it was so light and breathy it didn't sound like anything at all. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much at once. And all of it was telling me you loved me. So, I'm happy Darius." His voice broke, "I'm really happy."
For a second I was confused and then I let out a relieved laugh. "Oh."
Trace rubbed his eyes until they were a little puffy and his cheeks were flushed but he'd stopped crying. He pouted. "Say it again."
Now, it was my turn to flush. "I can't just say it on command..."
Trace sighed dramatically. "Well, the next time we do it I hope you say it."
"Do what?"
Trace leaned in close and spoke softly, "The next time we fuck, Darius."
I shivered at his tone, and moaned when Trace kissed me. One hand gripped the back of my neck and the other snuck under my shirt, massaging and squeezing my pec. Trace moved his mouth to my neck and started to suck against my oh so sensitive skin.
It was intense and I started to lose sense of where we were. And then I remembered we were pretty much alone in the middle of nowhere. So much privacy.
I responded deeply to the kiss, putting both my hands in Trace's hair and running my fingers through his silky strands. Expressing how I felt made me feel like I was on a natural high. This was the reward I got for speaking my mind. I moved my hands down past his hair to his waist and I was eventually the one to pull away.
"Too much," I said softly, feeling lightheaded. "It's not even nine AM, we can't—" we couldn't do more than kiss as much as I wanted to.
Trace's lips looked almost swollen from kissing me. He kicked his lips. "Okay," He said, as he fixed my shirt and smoothed out the now rumpled fabric. "I love you," He said abruptly, watching me almost expectantly.
"I love you, t-t-too," I stammered out, and Trace's eyes filled up again like he witnessed a miracle.
He gave me a hug and spoke against my chest. "I'll get used to you saying that soon, just not today. But thank you." I wrapped my arms around Trace and closed my eyes.
To me, the weekend had started off so well and I was excited for the rest of my time with Trace.
"I think me and Marí might actually get married soon..." he started off hesitantly. Manny and his fiancée were on again off again childhood sweethearts but they'd only gotten serious in the past few years. Once they had gotten serious they got engaged after six months of dating because Marísol had gotten pregnant and Manny was traditional in that way. He wasn't about to be an unmarried father.
But then...they'd lost the baby. It had been the first trimester but it was still so unexpected it had sent Manny and Marí reeling. They didn't feel like they could get married under those circumstances and had opted for a long engagement. It had been almost four years since then and I understood that they needed time to process what had happened. There had been a time when Manny told me he felt like he'd lost his faith in God. He couldn't understand why something like that had had to happen.
I'd tried to be there for him in my own way but he would just seem so far away from me. One night we'd had drinks in his apartment and Manny was a bit drunk when he admitted when he wanted to name the baby after me.
He'd had his hands in his hair and looked irritated. "I keep thinking what things would've been like by now. You know, with another mijo. You'll always be mijo to me and I wanted to name the...I wanted to name the baby after you." Manny started to cry and I scooted over on the couch and folded my arms around him. "You're such a good guy and so pure. And, babies are like that, too. So good. I don't understand. Was I not good enough? I know Marí is. So it had to be me. Maybe I didn't pray enough. Maybe I drink too much." Manny was half-laying on my chest, soaking my shirt with his tears. "I don't know how to be okay again."
I petted Manny's hair, feeling heartbroken for my closest friend. I never thought of what it would be like to lose a child or even the idea of getting someone pregnant because I was gay and I didn't know if I wanted children. I didn't know if I wanted to subject myself to thousands of dollars for surrogacy or preparing for an adoption process. So, I just didn't think about it.
But, Manny had always wanted to be a dad. I knew he'd be great at it, too. He'd accepted me despite my stuttering and my awkwardness and my anxiety. I knew that if he had a kid, no matter how they turned out, he'd love them unconditionally.
At the time I'd tried to be honest. "I think you'll be okay again," I said softly, stroking his hair, "maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually. You pray all the time and you don't drink too much. Sometimes, terrible things happen and it's not anyone's fault. And one day you guys will have a kid. And they don't have to have my name, and they'll be healthy. And you'll be an amazing parent. You're so good to me even though I— even though I'd understand if you weren't."
Manny sniffled loudly. "Aw, mijo. And I like taking care of you, so it's no biggie. I just wish— things had turned out differently. Then you'd have another niece or nephew. CJ could've had a little cousin." Then all of a sudden Manny was crying again. "We still have all that fucking baby clothing. We told people too fast. Mierda. Next time will be different."
I let Manny ramble and cry for a few more minutes before he fell asleep. After he started to drool on my shirt I shook him awake and brought him to my room. He stripped down to his boxers and stared at the ceiling while lying down.
Manny had deeply tanned skin, his hair was dark brown and wavy, always curling around his ears. He had a dimple in his chin that was nearly impossible to see because of the constant 5-o clock shadow on his face. And although he was about five foot ten he had a thick, stocky frame. Manny always seemed so big to me. Maybe because he was four years older than me and he acted brotherly.
But, right then on my bed, he seemed small, and I didn't know to make him not seem that way anymore.
"Can I ask you something?" He slurred slightly.
"Anything, Manny," I said quietly, staring up at the ceiling but not sure what he saw.
"Can I sleep over?"
"You're already in my bed."
"Oh, right. Is this weird?"
"No."
"I'm glad you're my best friend. One day you're gonna find a guy who takes care of you and he's gonna be so lucky. But, don't leave me, okay? At least need me a little bit."
I covered my face. "Today's not about me, Manny and you're my best friend. I would never leave you." It felt weird to remind Manny that I had a boyfriend in that moment. But I felt like I had to. "And Carter does take care of me," I said quietly.
He sighed. "Not the way you need."
"I don't understand."
Manny murmured something too soft for me to hear and pulled up the covers. It didn't take much longer until he fell asleep. He grabbed my hand right before his eyes closed and it took a while for his grip to loosen.
Manny didn't care about gender roles, or the fact I was gay and he wasn't. He was hopelessly affectionate with everybody and longed for physical contact. He tried his best with me by not pushing but I knew sometimes I had to compromise. As much as I wanted to be there for him it mentally exhausted me to touch him so much. Physical comfort didn't come naturally to me and I had to walk myself through doing all the things I knew Manny responded to.
Once he was sound asleep, I slipped out of bed and went back to the living room to check my phone. I'd forgotten to tell Carter I wasn't going to head to his place that night anymore. I couldn't just leave Manny.
And then I saw the messages.
D, where are you?
you said you'd be here by now.
next time, try to update me.
Are you with him??
wanted to surprise you but nvm
i wish you would answer your phone
next time I have you to myself, I'm never letting you go. Haha, jks.
My roommate is seeing his gf tonight so we have the place to ourselves. Will that convince u?
And then there was a picture that made my throat dry and my stomach tight. Carter was my first boyfriend and I didn't know much about relationships but sometimes I felt...overwhelmed. Sexual stuff wasn't the reason I got a boyfriend and that would never tempt me away from a friend in need.
But I dialled Carter's number anyways and he picked up on the first ring. "Finally!" He said, "where have you been all this time?"
"Just with Manny," I said quietly, "he's..." I wracked my brain for any excuse, "not feeling so well."
Carter sighed. "Right, okay. Can he keep it together for the rest of the night? I really wanted us to make use of my empty apartment." He had that voice on. Deep and warm and hungry. Carter wasn't usually so single minded but when he was stressed he could be a bit selfish. But Carter's stress was coming from his PhD application...not anything I could help with.
"I can't leave him alone tonight, Carter, I'm really sorry."
"Okay then," he sounded like he was trying not to sound annoyed, "I'm just going to have to entertain myself tonight. I'll see you tomorrow...have a good night."
Me and Carter saw each other almost every day even though that felt too intense. Even though I cared about him I found him a bit overwhelming. He was always so talkative and upbeat that I could never really get a word in. But he was frighteningly tuned in to how I felt about things and he could read me like a book. Sometimes, Carter pushed more than I was comfortable with. We'd been together for about a year now, and I was happy. I just wondered why Carter didn't try to listen to me more.
After that I cleaned up the beer cans and tidied up a bit before getting back into the bed with Manny. In my heart it felt right to be there with him. It was so rare that he needed me and I wasn't going to fuck things up.
#
All that had happened almost four years ago and I was happy that Manny and his fiancée felt like they could get married. It was a relief.
Manny grinned. "Yeah and you're gonna be my best man."
My eyes widened and I dropped the basketball. It bounced briefly before rolling on the ground. "What?! Why?!"
He snickered. "You could at least pretend to be excited about it."
"Well," I stuttered, "I'm not. I can't give a speech or host a stag party or wherever best men do. I don't want to go to a strip club."
"No one's going to a strip club, D. Calm down. I just want you by my side at the wedding, and we can cut the speech if you don't want to do it. The bachelor party will just be me and the guys and you at my place playing video games and drinking booze. I'd never disrespect my girl by going to a strip club, anyways. You can invite your boyfriend to the wedding if you want but we want it to be next summer so there's time for you to consider things."
That relieved me and I was finally able to pick up the basketball. "Okay, wow. The last wedding I went to was Cyrus' so this is a lot."
He clasped me on the arm. "You'll do great. Now, that's enough about me. You're supposed to update me on everything in your life and," Manny waggled his thick brows suggestively, "your guy."
I flushed, entirely unused to Manny teasing me. But, I did fill him in. I skipped over some stuff like me and Trace's first time together and focused on work. I told him about how I was considering leaving the bakery and how I'd finally responded to my backlog of emails and my camping trip with Trace.
It was always easy to confide in Manny but I tried not to talk about anything too embarrassing. But Manny seemed to have caught on anyways.
"So you guys finally touched butts, huh?"
I flinched, feeling my face heat up. "Manny!"
"I know you, mijo, something is different. But, I'm glad you're getting some. It's been a while, huh? How long have you two been together?"
I dribbled the basketball absently as I thought. "It's crazy, this weekend will be our six months." For a second, I lost control of the basketball as I took in what I said. Manny picked it up as it rolled over to him. "Oh no," I mumbled, "Oh no. Oh no. Oh no."
Manny walked over to me with the basketball. His voice was low and concerned, "Hey D, it's okay."
"No," I said quickly, "it is so not okay. That's why he wants to go camping. That's why he made such a big deal on our date the other day. That's why he wants me to meet his parents! I've been so wrapped up in myself I completely forgot. It's our six month anniversary! Oh my God, we're leaving tomorrow morning and I don't even have a gift. Maybe six months isn't a big deal to him? Maybe it is? How do I know? Do I ask? Do I not ask? Should I just get something anyways in case? Why else would he ask me to go camping this weekend?"
I took the basketball from Manny's hand and started to dribble fast, just so my hands could keep busy.
"Are you sure, Darius?" Manny said slowly, "you don't have to get stressed. We can go shopping for something cool right now. I'm free this evening and I can come with you to find something."
I stopped dribbling and stared at Manny as my eyes welled. "You don't mind?"
His expression softened. "Of course, not. I'm sure you have a little list of all the things he likes since you do that with everybody."
I flushed. "I do have a list. It's somewhere on my phone. If I remembered I would've made him something...that would've been best."
Manny and I made our way to the locker room as we changed and got ready for the showers. This facility had both communal showers and individual stalls. I fit better in the communal shower and other guys knew not to stare at other guys' junk so I washed off clinically and changed quickly in the locker room. Manny finished a few minutes after me and we made our way to his car.
I browsed through the list I'd been building on my phone. Trace had grumbled once that he was into video games, anime, and manga but that it didn't make him an otaku. But, in all honesty I thought it made him a bit of an otaku. He was as into all those things as he was into zombies. I guess it kind of made him a nerd but I found it hot so I couldn't complain.
We went from store to store but nothing really felt right. Fan merchandise for a six month anniversary? Yeah, that didn't feel right. And then we went to a craft store and I was tempted to buy fabrics but I didn't even know if I had enough time or an idea of what I wanted to make. We went round and round for almost an hour before Manny got a craving for ice cream and we took a break on a bench.
"Why don't you just bake him something?" Manny asked as he attacked his ice cream. He really ate like a straight man despite all the time he spent around me.
I sipped at my milkshake before replying, "Isn't that boring?"
"I'm sure he loves how well you bake and at the end of the day it doesn't matter what you get him. He'll be happy because he loves you."
I mumbled something incoherent and Manny laughed.
After our ice cream break, we went around the shops a little more before I ended up choosing something. Then, Manny drove me home and surprised me with a hug at my doorstep.
He squeezed me tight. "Have a good trip, mijo. If you need anything you just call me. Alright?"
"Yes, alright," I said. The two of us said our goodbyes and I went up to my apartment.
#
That evening I had to cancel a movie date with Trace as I worked like mad to get his gifts together. He seemed disappointed that I cancelled and asked more than once if I didn't want to go camping anymore and that it was okay if I didn't want to.
But I assured him I wasn't up for the movies but I'd be ready to see him when he picked us up for our camping weekend trip.
I worked hard that evening to get things together and then packed and repacked my bags so that everything would fit nicely.
Then, I realized I should probably bake something tasty for Trace and I went to my kitchen and put on my apron. Cupcakes seemed fitting and a quick bake so I got to work. When I was done I put everything away in my fridge and got ready for bed.
It was only as my eyes were closing shut that I realized something. Did Trace want us to do stuff during the camping trip?
I called Trace and waited forever as the phone continued to ring. Eventually, his sleep stricken voice picked up, "Yes, baby?"
That had been happening more and more often lately and Trace's pet term made me feel strangely squishy inside. I didn't dislike it.
"Uhm," I started, "I have a question?"
"Mhmm?" Trace encouraged.
"Will we— In the tent at night....do you expect us to... you know?"
Trace paused and I could hear him waking up a bit more. "I'm down for almost anything but I don't think you'd be comfortable in the tent. But if you're asking if I packed lube and condoms then yes."
"So you expected us to—"
"No, I don't actually expect us to do anything except snuggle but I just need to be prepared in case that changes."
"Oh," I said softly, "it's just you said you want me to have a good time and to have it be special...so, I thought maybe, that you meant that."
"We don't need to be having sex for it to be special between us, Darius," Trace said quietly, "is it okay if I sleep now?"
I flushed. "Yes, yes, of course. I didn't mean to bother you. Good night, Trace."
There was a pause before Trace replied. His voice got even deeper somehow, "What are you wearing?"
"Uh, just my boxers."
"Hmm," Trace murmured, as he shuffled on his end of the line, "what colour?"
"Uh, black. Why do you ask?"
Trace laughed. "You know why."
"I don't."
"Do you wanna know what I'm wearing?"
"Uhm—"
"I'm not wearing anything."
For a second I stopped breathing and sat up in my bed so fast my head spun. I let out a garbled noise and tried to think.
"Do you want to keep talking or go to bed?"
"Trace," I groaned, "how am I supposed to go to bed after that?"
His voice went soft, "it's your choice."
"I want you to keep ...keep going."
"Take your boxers off, Darius."
"Oh God," I murmured, pulling at, and and fumbling at the band of of my boxers. It felt like it took years to take them off and then they were caught around my ankles and I kicked them onto the floor. "They're off," I whispered.
"You're naked?" His voice was just about a low purr.
"Do my socks count?"
Trace laughed loudly into the phone for several seconds. "Well, I guess not."
"Okay, then I'm ready," I said quietly.
"Okay, baby," Trace said in a rough voice filled with heat.
#
Trace stopped by for breakfast at my apartment the next morning where I'd made some chocolate blueberry pancakes, and cinnamon buns. I made enough for the two of us and Trace looked happy to see me when I let him in.
But instead of hello the first thing he did was ask me a question. "Can I get a hug?"
I responded with a hug and Trace relaxed in my arms. It took me a moment to realize he was shaking. "Are you okay?" I asked gently into his hair. It smelled like some kind of citrusy shampoo.
He hugged me tighter. "Some fucking asshole cut me off. God, I'm so mad. But, I need to calm down because we're supposed to have a great weekend. You smell good, this place smells good, I'm starving, your hugs make me feel safe. I'll be okay." But Trace continued hugging me for several more seconds until his body was still. "I'm okay," he said softly, but it sounded more like he was talking to himself.
He came into my doorway and sat on a stool to remove his shoes. I watched him carefully but he did seem okay. After he got his shoes off we sat at my dining table and had breakfast. Trace was oddly quiet as we ate and it was weird because he was usually the conversation starter. He'd said he was okay, but there was something wrong.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I said, "you can tell me if something's wrong. You don't always have to be the one to...listen to me. I can listen to you, too."
Trace gave me a gentle smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "I just really hate when I'm driving and something goes wrong. It fucks with me for the rest of the day. The only serious car accident I've been in was when I—when I lost my leg. I don't want anything else to happen. And now I know I'll be agitated for the rest of the day because my leg is acting up."
"Acting up?" I asked gently.
Trace scrunched his face and it made him look particularly young. "Yeah. It feels uncomfortable. Tight. Like I need to stretch it out. But I can't. Because there's nothing there."
"I'm sorry," I said quickly, "I can drive, okay? You don't have to if you don't want to."
Trace relaxed. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."
Once we got in the car I had to adjust a few things to fit comfortably. The rearview mirror, but then we were driving and Trace was still quiet. He frowned at all the cars on the road and sighed frequently. I didn't want to ask him again if he was okay because I was sure he wasn't but he'd keep telling me he was.
And so the only sound in the car was the sound of the gps every now and then.
Trace sat up suddenly. He turned to me and his gaze felt intense. "Anata wa—"
"Is that Japanese?" I interrupted gently, glancing at Trace for a second before returning my eyes to the road.
"Oh shit. I'm sorry," Trace sounded frazzled.
I laughed. "It's okay, that was kind of cute."
Trace paused. "You've never called me cute before."
"I haven't?"
"I would remember." Several seconds passed before Trace continued, "Say it again."
"Uh?" My face started to heat up and my hands tightened around the wheel. "Again?"
"Yeah."
"I think you're cute," I said softly, "I like how soft your hair is, and how wavy it is. I like the way your eyes crease when you smile. I like your voice, and how you say my name. I like when you sing. I like a lot of things, Trace." It helped that I wasn't looking at him.
"Can we pull over?" Trace asked quietly.
I pulled over to the shoulder and we sat in silence for a while.
"I understand if you're mad at me and you don't trust me," Trace began slowly. His pace was measured and slow, as if each word was a struggle, "But, I didn't really know how to say it. I have PTSD from the accident where...yeah. I've had it for twelve years now and I don't usually have too many symptoms. I just have a bad temper, I get nightmares and sometimes I can't be around cars. I can't be in here right now." Trace unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the passenger side of the car.
I made sure everything in the car was off and I pocketed the keys before scooting across from the driver's seat to the passengers seat and following Trace out the door.
The right shoulder of the highway was up against a lot of greenery and high weeds. Trace sat on the ground with his back against the car and his feet splayed out in front of him. Trace's head was tipped up to the sky and his expression was stormy. I sat down beside him and he leaned against my shoulder.
"It was worse after the accident," he started slowly, "phantom pain, irrational anger and anxiety around cars. But as time went on it got a lot better. Mostly. I try not to let it fuck up my life as much as it used to. I don't want it to define me. " His voice was rough and he sounded depressed, "I didn't want to ruin our weekend..."
"You're not ruining our weekend," I said. In all honesty, I wasn't exactly surprised Trace had PTSD from his car accident. He seemed to have other hidden and not so hidden scars from losing his leg. It didn't make him less than it just made him who he was. "Can you look at me for a second, please?"
Trace sat up a bit more and looked at me. He was seriously gorgeous. All high cheekbones, and that constant frown framing his full mouth and his dark, intelligent eyes. And his skin that flirted somewhere between gold and bronze. My favourite part of his face were his eyes. Trace had a way of looking at me that made me freeze up as much as it made me burn. I was addicted to it.
I took his hand and started folding our fingers together. "I think it's normal to have some issues after a traumatic accident. Even without labels I could tell that your amputation has affected you in a lot of ways."
"It has," Trace said quietly, squeezing my hand hard, "I know I'm lucky that I can afford my prosthetics and resources to live a mostly normal life. I know I'm lucky that I didn't get worse injuries in the crash..."
"But this is normal," I assured him quickly, "this is your normal, Trace. You run triathlons, and you make video games and you're a twin and a son and a good friend and an amazing boyfriend. You not having a leg doesn't mean that your life can only be mostly normal. Different isn't abnormal."
"Gosh," Trace said softly, "I could say the same thing to you." His eyes were glassy and he sniffled once before he laughed. "You really are too sweet, Darius." He gave me a hug and I held him tight. We sat there for a few minutes in quiet. Trace's head was buried in my chest and he was much quieter than I'd learned to expect from him. But soon, he moved out of the hug and frowned. "I'll feel a bit better later but let's get to the campsite. Being on the edge of the highway is freaking me out."
We stood up and Trace dusted his pants off and I did the same to mine. The two of us got back in the car and he double checked to make sure all the gear in the backseat of the car was properly strapped down. Then, we were off.
#
Another ninety minutes of driving and the roads got emptier and narrower as we continued north to the site.
"We're almost there," Trace said excitedly, "I really like this place because it's just away from everything. I find it really calming to be in nature. We're lucky that we're probably getting that last good weekend before Fall sets in. Today we can set up and take a walk around the site. Oh! We're here, just keep going down here and turn right to the registration."
I felt like I was in a nature magazine. Everything was so wide open and spread out. There weren't any buildings or skyscrapers in sight. It was just earth, grass, tall, mature fir trees interspersed with trees coloured the typical red, yellow, green and brown of Fall. There was even a lake and I could see some people canoeing. Or was it kayaking? I wasn't sure I knew the difference.
Trace's mood had lifted considerably as we parked and he got out a printed sheet with his registration. The registration was simple and Trace was friendly with with the worker who happened to recognize him.
"Do you come here a lot?" I asked after we got checked in.
He laughed, and he sounded free and weightless. God, I loved the sound of it. "I've been coming here for years actually. I've brought Nalini, and even my parents. All my friends. Usually, I just go alone though. In the summer, I used to go one weekend a month and do a lot of writing but work and other projects have kept me pretty busy."
Trace took the wheel on our way to the campsite and soon we were there. There was a dry piece of ground in between some really tall trees and it all overlooked a clear blue lake.
-
Source: /www.planetware/photos-large/CDN/ontario-algonquin-provincial-park-mew-lake-campground.jpg
Idea of what their campsite looks like. Their plot is nearby the lake, sandwiched by some trees, relative privacy to other plots, comes with a fire place, a little wooden table and an outlet. Some would call this "glamping" or glamorous camping because of the inclusion of an outlet. So yeah.
—
It was really pretty, what with the lake and the trees but it was also pretty barren. There was a small pole sticking out of the ground where I figured the outlets would be and I was glad we weren't doing the kind of camping where I couldn't charge my phone.
I got out of the car and stretched, suddenly embarrassed when my stomach started grumbling. I coughed to cover it up but Trace laughed.
"It's okay, we'll set up the tent and then start something on the camp stove I brought. And we can have the left overs from breakfast this morning." Trace seemed relaxed and I was really appreciating his outfit. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt, a vest and his pants were made out of some thick material but it still framed his ass really nicely. I flushed at the thought that I'd been more than well acquainted with all of Trace's fun bits and pieces.
"Alright, I'm ready to build the tent," I said, starting to pull the hefty tent bag out of the boot of the car. I was going to get my mind out of the gutter and focus on the task at hand.
Trace had an easy smile on his face when he replied, "Didn't you say you've never built a tent before?" He helped me lift the bag out onto the floor and he started to clear off any stray twigs around the floor.
"You can just boss me around and tell me what to do. That seems to come naturally to you," I said easily.
Trace gasped, and stopped what he was doing. "Wow, all of a sudden you've got jokes, huh?"
I grinned. "Am I wrong?"
"If I didn't find you so cute I might be offended."
"I thought you find me 'adorable'?"
Trace rolled his eyes. "Obviously. Help me clear the floor a little before we set up the tent."
I started following Trace's direction and when he announced the ground was clear enough we started to set up the tent. The first thing that I realized was that there were a lot of pieces, and it was a giant assemblage of fabric and plastic sticks. But Trace seemed to make sense of it easily and soon a tent started to take shape.
"What kind of tent is this?" I asked as it got bigger and bigger...and bigger. Trace had said he'd take care of the tent and the sleeping situation so I'd left it up to him. But, I was realizing this tent could double as a small house because of the sheer size of it.
"I needed to find something that you could actually stand up in and that ended up being a big tent. Can you grab that flap?" Trace asked.
I did what he asked and then he started to pump air into the side of the tent where there was a valve. Miraculously, the tent started to inflate. "Wow," I said softly, watching as Trace pumped air into different valves and then put the pump away. Then, he started to pull strings that were attached to the tent and driving them into the ground with stakes.
I tried to copy him but I wasn't sure if I was doing it right.
"These are called guy lines or guy ropes and we just really want to make sure our tent is secure. So, push it a little deeper into the ground, Darius."
I did just that and we worked around the tent until it was finished. All in all, it had taken less than twenty minutes and I was surprised.
We started to unpack the car and the first thing Trace started pulling out was another contraption to assemble. This one was much more complicated and it took more time than the tent. It ended up being a screened canopy that Trace put over the wooden table.
"We don't want any bees or hornets bothering us," Trace explained, "especially since there's a lot of nests nearby."
"Right," I said uncertainly, I had a thing against bees. I just really hated the sound of buzzing when it was by my face.
Then, Trace started setting up the tent, and I was surprised by the number of comfort items he was pulling out of the car. There was an entrance mat, foam tiles for the floor, an inflatable mattress, bedsheets, a duvet and pillows. Even a small fold out table and freakishly large first aid kit. By the end it looked incredible. Way more comfortable than I thought it would be.
"Do you like it?" Trace asked as I looked over the camp site. He sounded a bit nervous and like my answer would mean a lot to him.
I turned to him and gave him a hug. "Yes." Trace was still for a long moment before he wrapped his arms around me and inhaled my scent.
His voice was soft and muffled against my chest,"Good."
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The tent:
Coleman's Air Valdes 6XL tent
Picture Source: /www.coleman.eu/FR/images/Product/medium/26801.jpg
One minute video/visual tour of the tent: /www.youtube/watch?v=gU-iUC3TyFc
[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]
Screened Canopy over the boys' dining table:
Source: /www.amazon/EVER-ADVANCED-Outdoor-Screened-Zippered/dp/B083M1TL6N/ref=as_li_ss_il?_encoding=UTF8&psc=1&refRID=2RFEYQXC9XXZ8FNZJQ41&linkCode=li3&tag=family-camp-tents-20&linkId=ac3f893886619cd060a5d6098b6a55d9&language=en_US
#
After setting up the tent, Trace pulled out a small cooking appliance and started to fry up an amazing amount of bacon and eggs, and we ate the left overs of our pancakes and cinnamon buns from breakfast. The experience didn't really feel like camping to me. I was having too much fun.
"I thought we were supposed to be 'roughing it'?" I asked after adding some syrup to my pancakes.
Trace had a bunch of condiments in a little rack he'd assembled and I was eating good. He laughed at my enthusiasm and used a finger to wipe a droplet of syrup at the edge of my mouth. I didn't mind so much when Trace touched my face but anywhere near my mouth always felt suggestive. Like the precursor to...something.
He stuck his finger between his lips and gave me a look. "Baby, you don't have a 'roughing it' bone in your body."
"I could totally rough it," I mumbled, somewhat thrown by the sensuality of his expression.
"I usually camp in a two person tent in a sleeping bag."
I wrinkled my nose. "Sleeping bags don't fit me, that's not fair."
"This is what I mean," he said with a kind laugh. "But, it's alright. I don't really care what we're doing as long as we do it together."
I smiled. "Are you quoting me?"
Trace actually blushed. "Yes, Darius. Now, can I kiss you?"
I nodded and Trace gave me a mind melting kiss. He wrapped his hand around my neck and kissed me hard. "Thank you for coming on this trip with me, Darius, it means a lot. Even though I know you're going through a lot right now."
Trace was holding my hand and tracing the lines on my palm. I was feeling soft and fuzzy inside and very comfortable. If I didn't say it now I didn't think I'd be able to say it later. But, I took a big breath and tried to stabilize my thoughts. "I've been thinking it for a while...but I wanted to say I love you. I—love you in a romantic way. I mean, I know you're already my boyfriend and all and you told me how you felt at the hotel almost two months ago but I wanted to reciprocate. Even if it's been a while. And I.. ah." I swallowed. "You care about me and take care of me in a way no one ever has before. Even though I have a-a-anxiety and a pa-panic disorder."
Trace started to interrupt me but I spoke over him.
"And I know that— that just because I have issues doesn't mean I don't deserve good things. Or, at least I'm learning that little by little, and I'm glad that you help me to see that. I'm glad that while I'm growing and becoming more...sure of myself that you don't mind waiting for me to get there. I love that you try to understand me and how you don't coddle me. And I love your kisses and your smile and even when we sleep together, I'm thankful you're willing to go at my pace." Now that I'd started, I didn't know if I'd be able to stop. "And I love how dedicated you are to your passions, like your job and writing, and how confident you are. And how much you laugh and smile when you're around me. I like how you seem happier when you're around me. I love how you try to show me new things and take me new places and how you just say what's on your mind. I admire how fearless you are. At least...to me you seem fearless. And, I just...have trouble saying things but I mean everything I do say. And I mean it when I say: I'm in love you."
I took a big breath and waited for Trace to say something.
But he was just sitting there, sitting very still with a dazed expression on his face. Then, his eyes teared up and my heart stopped when he started crying. One big tear dropped down his face, and then another and then there were just a torrent of tears.
I yelped. "What's happening? Why are you crying? Did I do something? Are you in pain?"
Trace wiped at his tears and laughed. The sound came out garbled and wet. "I'm happy."
I froze. "What?"
He laughed again and it was so light and breathy it didn't sound like anything at all. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much at once. And all of it was telling me you loved me. So, I'm happy Darius." His voice broke, "I'm really happy."
For a second I was confused and then I let out a relieved laugh. "Oh."
Trace rubbed his eyes until they were a little puffy and his cheeks were flushed but he'd stopped crying. He pouted. "Say it again."
Now, it was my turn to flush. "I can't just say it on command..."
Trace sighed dramatically. "Well, the next time we do it I hope you say it."
"Do what?"
Trace leaned in close and spoke softly, "The next time we fuck, Darius."
I shivered at his tone, and moaned when Trace kissed me. One hand gripped the back of my neck and the other snuck under my shirt, massaging and squeezing my pec. Trace moved his mouth to my neck and started to suck against my oh so sensitive skin.
It was intense and I started to lose sense of where we were. And then I remembered we were pretty much alone in the middle of nowhere. So much privacy.
I responded deeply to the kiss, putting both my hands in Trace's hair and running my fingers through his silky strands. Expressing how I felt made me feel like I was on a natural high. This was the reward I got for speaking my mind. I moved my hands down past his hair to his waist and I was eventually the one to pull away.
"Too much," I said softly, feeling lightheaded. "It's not even nine AM, we can't—" we couldn't do more than kiss as much as I wanted to.
Trace's lips looked almost swollen from kissing me. He kicked his lips. "Okay," He said, as he fixed my shirt and smoothed out the now rumpled fabric. "I love you," He said abruptly, watching me almost expectantly.
"I love you, t-t-too," I stammered out, and Trace's eyes filled up again like he witnessed a miracle.
He gave me a hug and spoke against my chest. "I'll get used to you saying that soon, just not today. But thank you." I wrapped my arms around Trace and closed my eyes.
To me, the weekend had started off so well and I was excited for the rest of my time with Trace.
End of Sugar, Butter, Flour, and Love Chapter 29. Continue reading Chapter 30 or return to Sugar, Butter, Flour, and Love book page.