Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PERCY
I’d love to blame my tossing and turning on the hard ground or say that the hot dogs Butch helped me cook over the fire for dinner just aren’t sitting right, but I can’t lie to myself.
The real reason I’m staring up at the dark nylon ceiling of my tent, listening to leaves rustling and owls hooting has nothing to do with physical discomfort and everything to do with the fact that I can’t stop thinking about that stupid, stupid, very stupid kiss.
Every time I close my eyes I relive the feeling of my lips against Butch’s and my body floods with an unpleasant mixture of horny heat and utter humiliation.
“It’s fine,” I whisper, trying to convince myself that he didn’t immediately tell all the guys what a pathetic moron I am the second I wandered into the woods to pee after we got back to camp.
Butch wouldn’t do that though. He’s sweet. At least, he seems sweet. Besides, he thinks it was nothing more than a burst of adrenaline that made me throw myself at him, not some idiotic crush on a man who couldn’t possibly be interested in me.
“It’s fine,” I say again, quietly into the dark, pulling my sleeping bag a little tighter around myself to combat the creeping cold that seems determined to chill me down to my bones.
Unlike the rest of the guys here, I don’t have layers upon layers of muscles to keep me warm.
Or two giant men to cuddle between in Ezra’s case.
Somewhere in the distance I hear the high-pitched cry of a coyote.
It’s weirdly soothing, bringing up memories of nights spent camping in the backyard when I was a kid.
The coyotes were always howling and yipping miles away, creating a soundtrack that I fell asleep to on dozens of warm summer nights.
My eyelids start to get heavier, and I settle deeper into my sleeping bag, focusing on the nighttime sounds instead of the existential horrors lurking in my own thoughts.
A twig snaps outside my tent and my eyes jerk open, my body immediately going on alert. It’s probably a raccoon or someone getting up to pee, but I listen carefully just to be sure. The coyote howls again, still far away, and then I hear a murmured “Fuck” and fast shuffling footsteps.
My tent rattles with a little tap and a shadow looms, blocking out the sliver of moonlight.
“Percy?” a deep voice whispers, and then he taps again.
I unzip my sleeping bag, shivering as goose bumps race down my arms at the lack of cover, and I crawl forward to open the flap. Butch is standing outside my tent, wearing boxers and a tank top like it isn’t forty-some degrees outside, clutching a pillow to his chest.
My mouth goes dry and my heart flails wildly. Is he here to tell me that he lied earlier and the kiss did make things weird? Or is he here to hook up like Juno suggested? I’m not sure which of those options is more terrifying.
“What’s up?” I whisper, trying not to look at his massive, muscular, bare thighs or the soft bulge in his obscenely thin boxers.
“I… uh… thought you might be scared of that wolf howling.”
“They’re coyotes.” As if to prove my point, a series of yips rings out, still safely distant.
Butch jumps a little at the sound and clutches his pillow tighter.
“Are you sure?” He looks over his shoulder like he’s expecting a hungry pack of wolves to be creeping up behind him in the dark. “Coyotes are still pretty scary. There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you’re freaked out or can’t sleep.”
I flatten my lips together to keep from smiling and he shuffles a little closer to my tent.
Who would have thought a big, strong guy like Butch would be afraid of a few coyotes?
It’s strangely endearing. In a weird way, it makes him a little less intimidating, a bit more human, like maybe he has some of the same insecurities and fears I do under all those muscles and charming smiles.
“Maybe I’m a little scared,” I lie. “Do you… um… do you want to come in here for a couple of minutes until they stop howling?”
Juno’s tent is meant for two people, so it’s got a little extra space.
But I’m pretty sure with his size, Butch counts as two people all on his own, so it’ll be a tight fit.
If he says he wants to come in, we might end up squished together with nowhere for my hands to go other than his bare thigh, or maybe his big, firm chest, breathing the same air, whispering in the dark so we don’t wake anyone else up…
My cock aches and my stomach dances with anxious butterflies.
Something rustles in a nearby bush and Butch practically dives into my tent.
I scramble out of the way as best I can, but his body still collides with mine, large and solid and warm.
Electricity pulses in my gut and I swallow the needy whimper that swells in my throat.
I hate it when Juno’s right, but their insistence that my fear-induced abstinence is taking a toll on me might just be the truth.
The urge to wrap myself around him just to feel more of his body against mine, to remember what it’s like to feel urgent and wanted and desperate is almost too much.
I swallow hard and inch myself back, trying to put a little bit of space between us before I do something stupid like kiss him again.
Butch tosses his pillow down next to mine and I busy myself zipping the flap back up, using those few seconds to collect myself and try to calm my racing heart.
When I turn back around, he’s nestled into my sleeping bag, holding the edge of it open for me.
“Sorry, is this okay? I should have brought my sleeping bag with me too, not just my pillow.” He laughs quietly. “It’s fucking cold.”
I nibble on my bottom lip and nod. I was just wishing for some muscle to keep me warm. I guess I should have been more specific… or maybe my subconscious got this wish exactly right.
He budges up a little more to make some space for me, and I crawl in, hoping he doesn’t notice my trembling hands or my petite erection pressing against my pajama bottoms. As soon as he wraps the edge of the sleeping bag around me, I sigh at the blissful warmth of our combined body heat.
I was colder than I let myself acknowledge before.
I shuffle forward until there’s less than an inch of space between us and press my cold toes between his calves.
Butch yelps and I laugh.
“I’m sharing my tent with you, the least you can do is warm up my feet.”
He scoffs. “I’m saving you from the bloodthirsty coyotes, but whatever. I guess I can warm up your feet too.”
I stifle another chuckle. “If the coyotes come to eat us, are you going to fight them off with your bare hands?”
It’s dark, but we’re close enough that I can see a smile stretch over his lips and his eyebrows arch.
“What, you don’t think I could? I’m not tough enough to protect you from rabid coyotes?”
“They’re rabid now too?” I match his expression, grinning in the dark. “This is getting serious.”
“That’s why I’m here to protect you, Rocky.
” He throws one of his big arms around me and pulls me that last inch closer, our bodies connecting, my chest against his, my cock aching against his firm belly, that soft bulge of his pressing against my thigh, and, if I’m not mistaken, getting harder. “You don’t think I can protect you?”
The humor leeches out of his eyes and his expression turns into something more intense in the dark. Hotter. Needier. I can’t be imagining or projecting any of that, can I?
I squirm against him, nerves and desire warring inside me.
Even if he did crawl into my tent because for some inexplicable reason he wants me, it’s still not that simple.
I want it to be. I want to be able to just give in to whatever this is.
But how can I when I haven’t told him the truth?
And I’m not about to just blurt out that I’m trans in the middle of the woods when I’m now definitely sure that his dick is getting hard against my thigh.
I’ve seen enough true crime to know that’s a bad idea, even if Butch has seemed like a great guy up until now.
His breath ghosts my face, and he drags his fingers through my short curls.
“You going to say anything, Rocky?”
BUTCH
I didn’t come over here to hump his leg like an unneutered dog, I swear I didn’t. But now that I’m here, sharing his sleeping bag, feeling his cute little body tucked up close to mine, I’m having a really hard time remembering why I did come crawling into his tent in the middle of the night.
“What are you doing, Butch?” he whispers with a little tremble in his voice before sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again and staring at me in the dark, barely an inch of space between our faces.
A coyote yodels again and my pulse spikes. Right, that’s why I grabbed my pillow and hurried over here in the dark.
“Protecting you from rabid animals,” I remind him.
“Is that really it?” His fingers nervously fidget with the collar of my tank top, and he squirms against me. He kissed me earlier—that has to mean something, doesn’t it? Even if it was just adrenaline talking at the time?
“Do you want me to be here for a different reason, Rocky?” My thumb finds a buttery soft patch of bare skin, just a sliver between the bottom of his shirt and his pajama pants, and I draw little circles there while he gives a jerky nod, then shakes his head before making a frustrated noise in his throat.
The sound of a deep, barely stifled moan cuts through the quiet of the night. Percy’s eyes widen.
“Oh my god, is that…?” Percy starts to ask, and another moan interrupts his question. He puts a hand over his mouth to muffle a laugh.
“Listening to my friends bone might be scarier than the coyotes.” I choke down laughter of my own.
There’s a whispered “Fuck, yeah” and I can’t quite decide between amusement and horniness. Percy buries his face in my chest and laughs harder, the little quakes in his muscles making my cock even harder against his thigh.
“Juno said camping was just an excuse for outdoor sex, I should have believed it.”
“You were warned that this weekend might be one giant orgy, and you agreed to come anyway?”
Percy shrugs, tilting his head to meet my gaze again now that his laughter is under control.
“Can I ask you something?” he whispers.
“If it’s about orgies, I have to confess that my experience is extremely limited.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “Do you… I mean, would you… I’m just wondering…”
“Spit it out, Rocky.” My gaze drifts down to his lush lips, the bottom one just a little damp and swollen from the way he keeps chewing on it.
“What types of guys do you usually go for?” he blurts. “Probably hyper-masc, alpha, gym bro types, right?”
“Sometimes,” I admit. “I’m into all kinds of guys though.
Big, small, buff, skinny. Body type isn’t that important to me.
I’m just into guys, you know? I love the smell of a man, armpits, sweaty balls, fuck, it all does it for me.
I love hairy bodies and the feeling of a hard cock.
” I let out a rumble in my throat and sink my fingers into his skin just a little harder.
It’s more than he wanted to know, but fuck, it’s difficult to stop myself when I start rambling about how much I love being gay.
I can’t read the reaction on Percy’s face.
Is that the answer he was looking for? Was he hoping I’d say I was into nerdy twinks with cute, tight asses?
Because hell yeah, I am. Maybe I should say that outright.
Is that what this is? Him trying to figure out if I could be into him?
Or is this normal small talk when you’re cuddled up in a sleeping bag together listening to other people get it on two tents over?
Fuck it, only one way to find out.
Our noses bump as I lean in closer, slow enough to give him time to stop me if this isn’t what he wants.
We can’t blame it on adrenaline here in the dark, wrapped around each other in the middle of the night, and I just want to check if that spark earlier was real.
His lips can’t be as soft and sweet as I’m remembering them, can they?
“Only a kiss, Butch,” Percy whispers, his lips grazing mine.
I nod, and our noses bump again.
“Yeah, Rocky, just a kiss.”
His lips part and we sink into each other, his hot breath ghosting across my tongue, the taste of minty toothpaste lingering, and the sweetest whimper I’ve ever heard going straight to my dick.
It’s nothing like the pulse pounding, over-too-quick kiss from earlier.
The way his lips soften and his tongue coaxes mine into his mouth is pure fucking heaven.
His hips give jerky little twitches, and his whimpers turn into quiet moans that vibrate around my tongue.
My hands want to wander, to find more of his impossibly soft skin, to cup his ass and encourage him to grind on me, but he said just a kiss, so I keep them firmly to myself.
Our tongues find an unhurried rhythm, lapping and tangling, taking turns muffling the sounds we can’t manage to swallow.
Every breath has his chest swelling against mine, and I could swear his heart is beating just as hard as mine is.
The slightest bit of his stubble drags along my chin, reminding me of another one of the things I love about kissing a man.
This kiss lasts a hell of a lot longer than the last one, but when Percy breaks it and sucks in a ragged breath, it’s still over too damn soon. I wish I could see his face better in the dark, but all I really have to go by is the tremble in his voice when he whispers “Wow” and then laughs.
“Yeah, wow.” I smile, even though I’m not sure he can see me all that well either.
“If you want to sleep here, you can.”
“To protect you from the rabid coyotes?”
Percy laughs and wiggles impossibly closer, tangling his legs between mine and sharing my pillow.
“Yeah, Butch, to protect me from coyotes.”