Chapter Fourteen
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Ben
The wind gently rocking the van, like a lullaby, is the first thing to truly register as I wake from my slumber.
Buried in a pile of warm blankets, reminding me of the lingering warmth of Jason’s embrace last night.
A comforting weight against my skin. I can still feel the ghost of Jason’s hand stroking my hair, the soft murmur of his voice promising me the world.
It’s a little frightening how close we’ve become in such a short time, but so far we’re on the same page. The sincerity in his voice has me believing every word he tells me.
I try to stretch, kicking off a few layers of fabric that got tangled between my legs during the night. A contented sigh escapes my lips as my muscles flex. I blink my eyes more into focus as the soft morning light filters through the van’s curtains.
The phantom scent of brewing coffee at Steamed, rich and inviting, drifts into the van.
What is wrong with me? I am smitten.
It’s been so long since I have met someone so perfect for me.
I tend to jump into relationships because I long for what I see Caleb and Barrett having.
Someone that is mine and mine alone. Someone who showers me with small gestures of affection.
Someone who can make decisions for me when I feel like life is just too much.
With a renewed sense of peace, I push aside the blankets fully, a small, hopeful smile playing on my lips.
The air in the shower room at the campground is thick with steam, carrying the mingled scents of various soaps and shampoos.
It doesn’t bother me since my mind is still fixated on one kindergarten teacher.
His voice is a soft, sweet echo in my head as I let the hot water cascade over my head and down my body, washing away the last remnants of sleep.
Squirting some soap into my hand, I begin washing with the thoughts of Jason monopolizing my mind. My fingers brush my nipples and the bud pebbles. What would it feel like to have Jason’s mouth on it? Or better yet, his scruff scratching against my soft skin.
My cock likes that idea too much.
I don’t think I’ve discovered any other kinks that turn me on. But if Jason wants to try some new things, I’d be down.
My hand travels down my ass to clean, and my finger swipes over my entrance.
The tight ring of muscle flutters, and I slip a finger inside, moaning against my other fist. It’s been so long.
I twirl my finger, and as soon as I change the angle, I hit the sweet spot, and my cock is now very interested in what we’re doing.
Leaving my finger in my ass, I jerk off with my other hand. Palming the length of my small dick, I run my hand from the base to the tip and continue up my flat abdomen to my nipples. Pinching each one lightly.
I’m not going to last.
I pull on my cock a few more times, not bothering to hide the moan that escapes my lips as I coat the tile floor and sag against the wall, watching the spray wash the evidence down the drain.
After a minute to catch my breath, I emerged from the shower, towel wrapped snugly around my waist, the coolness of the morning air is a pleasant contrast to the steam from my stall.
I dress in jeans and a pink sweater, with chunky boots, before heading to the community building, where a complimentary coffee bar is set up.
Since I’m not a coffee drinker, I make myself a quick cup of hot chocolate.
Still cradling the warm mug, I feel a pang of reluctance to unhook the electrical cord and leave the cozy spot that’s quickly feeling familiar. Not really home, just…familiar. The world outside, with its demands and expectations, seems a million miles away today.
The familiar scent of blossoms and damp earth greets me as I push open the door, the gentle chime above announcing my arrival. Caleb materializes from the back, a wide grin splitting his face.
"Ben! Perfect timing!" he booms, surprising me with an unexpected, warm embrace. Okay, maybe it was expected. Caleb is sweet and loves hugs. He hands them out like Halloween candy. I don’t mind. "Come on, I want to show you our new conference room."
Caleb steers me towards the back workroom. I’ve been in that space for a week now, and I can almost tell you with certainty, there is no conference room. I lift a brow at him. "We have a conference room?" I ask, genuinely confused as we enter the hallway.
Barrett usually holds consults at the front counter, amongst the cheerful sunflowers and lilacs, surrounded by the shop's sweet, heady perfume.
Caleb giggles, a sound that bounces off the surrounding greenery. "Surprise! Just finished setting it up." I join him and giggle along with his excitement as he points to the bathroom. "Thought it was time we had a proper space for dreaming up new arrangements and, you know, actual business.”
Now I’m really confused. “Am I supposed to draw while I’m on the toilet?”
Caleb giggles, “I’m just teasing. Come on.” Caleb grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway toward our workroom.
Caleb pushes open the door, revealing a surprisingly chic corner.
Soft lighting from a small vintage chandelier illuminates a distressed, white, wooden table surrounded by a few lavender plush chairs.
A large whiteboard dominates the wall space behind the table, and my heart does this little flutter, a feeling that echoes the quiet joy I'd woken with.
In the center of the table is a small bouquet of wildflowers.
I don’t bother wiping the tear that slips free.
But out of all the things this little corner offers, it's the person sitting at the table that brings me the most joy. The reason I am the person I am today.
"Kai, what are you doing here?" He stands up with a wide smile and pulls me into the biggest hug possible.
"I'm here for my final consultation." He bounces in my arms like a kid at Christmas.
I pull back, looking at him. Brows furrowed. "Consult?"
"Oopsie. Did I forget to mention? I've been so busy.
" He says a little sheepishly. "Shawn and I are getting married, and I told Caleb that I wanted you to help with the flowers.
" My eyes widened, the initial shock giving way to a rush of overwhelming emotions. Kai, here, for his final consult. The man who had not only been my mentor but also recognized my potential and nurtured it. He’s entrusting me with his wedding flowers.
I squeeze Kai tighter, voice thick with emotion. "Kai, you have no idea how much this means to me. You’re… you’re my family." I pull back, a disbelieving smile still gracing my lips. "I still can’t believe that you and Shawn are getting married! When?"
Kai’s eyes twinkle, his infectious enthusiasm radiating.
"We're so excited, Ben! And knowing you'll be helping create something beautiful for us…
It just feels right. Caleb was so happy to tell me how you just fit in here and that you are ready for this.
He said you've got a heart for people with the eye of an artist. Things I already knew.”
I look over and see Caleb nodding and blushing. He gives me a wink.
I gesture around the chic room, my gaze lingering on the whiteboard.
"This new space is incredible, too! Imagine the magic we can conjure here.
" Caleb stands a little taller with what looks like a surge of pride, a quiet understanding passing between us. This is more than just a business transaction; it’s a validation, a testament to the seeds of creativity that Kai himself had sown in me all those years ago when I was just a teen trying to find my way.
The sweet scent of wildflowers on the table, so simple yet so perfectly placed, seems to mirror the moment's burgeoning beauty. I imagine the conversations to come, the brainstorming sessions with Caleb that I’m sure will be filled with laughter and shared visions, the gentle unfolding of floral dreams for Kai and Shawn.
The morning, which had begun with the comforting embrace of a van and the promise of a quiet intimacy, is now blossoming into something even more profound, a vibrant tapestry woven with friendship, trust, and the shared language of flowers.
Enjoying the new conference corner, Kai explains his vision.
“It will be a May wedding, because June is so overrated,” Kai teases.
“My parents were married in May, and I thought I would pick their month as an honor to them.” He explains more about why May is important to him, and it fills me with hope that one day I’ll be on that side of the table picking out flowers for my own wedding.
"I want it to reflect us as a couple,” Kai continues.
“Wild and playful, but romantic," I fill in, having known Kai for a while, the wild part I understand. Especially when he’s a little. Some would call him a brat, but I think he’s just mischievous.
Already painting a vibrant picture, I lean closer to the whiteboard, a fresh marker poised in my hand.
"So, we're talking about a spring wedding that feels alive, like a meadow after a fresh rain.
Forget rigid bouquets; think overflowing baskets, branches that twist and turn like dancers, and a riot of color that surprises and delights.
" I scribble a few hurried notes, a spark in my eyes.
"We can use lots of texture–delicate ferns mingling with bold poppies, maybe some wispy grasses peeking out from unexpected places.
And for the playful element, perhaps unexpected pops of color, like vibrant bluebells tucked amongst softer hues, or maybe even some strategically placed ladybugs made of tiny berries. "
I get so lost in my drawing and notes that I don’t see Caleb getting up and heading to the cooler to grab some of the flowers and elements I mentioned. He brings them to the table and begins constructing from my notes and diagrams. Almost like we are one with this vision.
Kai beams, a soft glow of approval emanating from him.
"Exactly! You guys get it. I want it to feel effortless, like nature decided to throw a party.
But beneath that playfulness, there needs to be that deep, undeniable romance.
Think stolen glances, hushed promises whispered amongst the blossoms. Maybe we can incorporate some vintage elements into the arrangements, or use candles that cast a warm, flickering glow.
And the scent…oh, the scent needs to be powerful, like a secret garden you stumble upon. "
Mom’s garden flashes in my memory, and I totally get what he’s thinking.
My smile widens, the possibilities unfurling before me like a breathtaking floral tapestry.
"Intoxicating is the word you’re looking for.
We'll have the sweet perfume of lilacs and hyacinths, the earthy undertones of moss and damp soil, perhaps even a hint of something spicy like cardamom pods hidden amongst the greenery. It will be an experience, Kai. A joyous, wild, and deeply romantic celebration of you and Shaun’s love. ”
The mention of vintage elements sparks a memory, a warm and fuzzy recollection of my mother’s cluttered potting shed and her penchant for collecting unique vases and jars.
I can almost see her face alight with discovery, pulling out a delicate, amethyst-colored jar or a robust, emerald-green pitcher from a dusty trunk.
Those jars, so imperfect and unique, had been the first vessels for my own budding floral creations, carefully arranged for Ms. Tibball.
They each held a whimsical charm, a narrative of their own that perfectly align with Kai's vision of wildness and romance.
My eyes, already bright with inspiration, seem to glow even more.
"Oh, Kai," I turn from the whiteboard and shout out, a genuine thrill coursing through me, "I have just the thing…
well, more like an idea. My mother collected vintage glass jars.
All sorts of shapes and colors. Mismatched, of course, but that's their charm! They would be perfect for holding smaller arrangements, tucked amongst the branches, or even as individual centerpieces on some of the tables. They’d bring that touch of history and personal story that feels so right for this," I gesture vaguely to the whiteboard, then back to Kai, the unspoken connection between my past and this present moment solidifying.
Kai claps his hands together, his smile widening.
"Ben, that's brilliant! It's like you're reading my mind. Those little touches, the personal histories woven into the design, that's what will make it truly special. It’s not just about the flowers themselves, is it? It’s about the feeling, the memories they evoke. Your mother's jars sound like they’re brimming with love and stories, and that’s exactly the kind of magic we want to infuse into this wedding. "
“I’ll see what I can do to recreate it. Since…
you know.” I struggle to explain it all again.
Kai was there to help me when I was kicked out.
He knows the story about my mom’s car accident, the destruction of the garden, and how I was a homeless gay teen.
He was there for it all and helped me get on my feet.
I pull out my phone and take a picture of the board, along with Caleb’s mockup of the arrangement. Caleb gives me a wink, and I nod. We’re a team, and each day, each consult shows me more and more that Caleb respects me as an artist and as an equal. There’s no competition between us.
The rest of the consultation flies by in a blur of shared ideas and excited scribbles on the whiteboard. We discuss the ceremony backdrop, envisioning intertwined branches dripping with ethereal fairy lights, and the reception tables, each adorned with miniature meadows housed in vases.
I feel a profound sense of gratitude, not just for Kai’s trust in his wedding flowers, but for the supportive environment Caleb and Barrett have cultivated. It’s a space where creativity is not just encouraged, but nurtured.