Chapter Thirteen
THE NEXT few days imprint themselves on Tad’s memory as too-bright snapshots. A searing red and pink sunset reflecting on a lake with water so still it could be glass. A flock of pinyon jays rising from juniper trees, feathers flashing sapphire under the autumn sun. Pines scraping the blue of the sky, the day so bright, their boughs look black.
Lewis splashing his face with water from a stream, the droplets catching the sun. Lewis scrambling up a boulder and grinning like a goofball. Lewis sitting by the fire, hair falling over his forehead, eyes gold and amber. Lewis stretched out on his side in their tent, smiling at Tad in the morning, sunrise filtering through the canvas to make a fuzzy halo around his head.
Lewis and Lewis and Lewis and Lewis.
The day they get to their pickup spot is the first time they encounter other people. There’s a family of five, a lone man with fishing gear, and two women with a lesbian pride bumper sticker on their Subaru.
They’re early, so they sit by the lake and dangle their feet in the water. The water feels great on Tad’s feet. He never really notices how much they hurt until the end of the trip.
Lewis tosses a couple rocks into the water one after another, ripples spreading across the surface in their wake. When he picks up a flat rock, Tad says, “Hey, that’s a great skipping rock.” When Lewis looks at it, Tad asks teasingly, “You know how to skip rocks, right?”
Scoffing, Lewis says, “Yeah.” Tad raises an eyebrow. Lewis flicks the rock toward water, where it hits the surface with a plop! and promptly sinks.
“Best out of three,” Lewis says.
Tad laughs and kisses him. Lewis’s hand comes up to cup the side of his face. Their tongues brush, and if this was any of the other stops from the past week, Tad would push Lewis down onto the sun-warmed rocks and fuck him. Instead, he reluctantly breaks the kiss and finds another flat stone, putting it in Lewis’s hand. “Here, like this. Give your wrist a little flick at the end.”
This time when Lewis tries, he gets the rock to skip and crows in victory. The sun catches his eyes and shines on his hair, and he’s the most beautiful goddamn thing Tad has ever seen.
Tad’s falling for him. Which, like, honestly? Is a realization that’s been creeping around the edges of his awareness for days. Maybe all week.
“You’re a natural,” Tad says, pushing aside his rising sadness at the fact that… this is it. Sure, they’ll see each other for divorce stuff. But after they’re brought back to Lewis’s rental car, this… whatever this is, is over.
“Hey.” Tad puts his hand on Lewis’s leg. “I never told you that I think it’s really cool you did this. Backpacking when you’ve never even camped before? It’s pretty badass.”
Lewis gives him a broad grin. “Oh yeah, that’s totally me. Badass. That’s what they call me at work.” His fingertips dance over the back of Tad’s hand, and Tad turns his palm up to capture them.
They’re quiet for a minute. Tad worries his shift in mood was too obvious, that he killed the easy happiness between them, but Lewis says, “I’ve been thinking. And I wasn’t sure how to ask, because, um. I know we agreed we’d just do this ”—he gestures between them—“while we were out here. But I’m not flying home until tomorrow, and if you’re interested, my hotel has a queen bed.” When Tad blinks and opens his mouth wordlessly, Lewis rushes to add, “Never mind, sorry, I was totally overstepping—”
“I’d love that,” Tad interrupts, knowing he sounds like a giddy idiot. He’s beaming so hard his face hurts.
Lewis relaxes. “Cool.”
Tad scoots closer. “I have a condition, though.”
“Yeah?”
“We stop at a pharmacy or something.” When Lewis furrows his brow, Tad says, “If we can shower, that opens up certain possibilities.”
Realization dawns over Lewis’s face. “ Oh . Yeah, we definitely can stop somewhere.” He shifts his legs, and Tad glances down. Yep, there’s some clear tenting going on in Lewis’s lap. With a devilish grin, Tad slips his hand between Lewis’s legs and squeezes. Lewis swats his arm and Tad laughs.
Lewis turns red. Looking and sounding flustered, he says, “When do you fly back?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah? Maybe we’re on the same flight!”
Yeah, the idea has occurred to Tad, but he didn’t want to find out they were and see the look of horror on Lewis’s face. “Mine leaves in the morning,” Tad says.
Disappointment flashes across Lewis’s face. “Damn. I have an afternoon flight.” It would be a lie if Tad claimed he wasn’t bummed out that they weren’t on the same plane—more time together!—but the fact that Lewis is bummed is almost as good. “I’ll drive you to the airport,” Lewis says decisively.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” He slips an arm around Tad’s back and pulls him close while Tad’s chest glows with warmth.
They lapse into silence, listening to birds, the lap of water on the shore, the shouts and laughter of kids running around. The cool water caresses Tad’s feet and he moves one. Swirls and eddies whorl around his ankles, then Lewis’s. Lewis bumps his foot against Tad’s and cuts a smile at him. Tad leans his head against Lewis’s and thinks he should take this opportunity to talk to Lewis—about anything—because their time together is running out.
But he can’t bring himself to break the silence, not because it’s too hard, which is normally how he feels—his shyness creeping up his chest and throat like a tide until it drowns his words—but because it’s so easy. Like he could speak at any time, and it would be no effort at all, and he wouldn’t have to worry about getting judged or laughed at.
The sound of an approaching engine makes Lewis look over his shoulder. “I think that’s our ride.” Regret colors his tone, and for a moment, he doesn’t move, just pulling Tad tighter against him.
A week ago, Tad would’ve made a joke about how this turned out to be a great honeymoon. Now? The thought makes his chest hurt, because it would have been a fantastic honeymoon, just the sort of thing Tad would want to do if he ever got married. Er. If he ever got married not on a drunken lark in Vegas.
He and John talked about marriage a couple times. In retrospect, the fact that it was only a couple times in their three-year relationship was a Giant Clue that things wouldn’t work out, because one of the things that drew them together was not being into hookup culture and wanting to settle down. I want to be someone’s husband , Tad remembers saying.
He got his wish? Kinda? In like, a Twilight Zone kind of way.
With a sigh, Lewis gets to his feet, offering Tad a hand. Tad takes it, and his heart twists tight with a jumble of emotions. It’s on one of those fairground rides in there, spinning fast and throwing everyone around in a laughing, queasy mess.
They hold hands as they retrieve their gear and hold hands as they go to meet the guy who’s here to pick them up, and hold hands in the back seat while Tad drops off to sleep.
It’s weird getting back in the car that brought them here a week ago. They were strangers, and now they’re not. Tad doesn’t know what they are, but he knows they aren’t that.
The drive back to Vegas feels short. Tad navigates Lewis to the hotel—with a stop at a drug store on the way. Lewis goes inside and comes back with a plastic bag. Face red, he hands it over and asks, “Is this stuff okay with you?”
There’s a box of condoms, lube, and—Tad giggles—Vaseline. He holds it up and arches an eyebrow.
Lewis turns redder. “In case the lube isn’t any good.”
I love you Tad wants to laugh, but he bites his tongue and doesn’t. “Smart,” he says instead, and Lewis looks pleased with the praise.
At the hotel, Lewis asks if they can get a king bed instead of a queen, and the heated look he shoots Tad makes Tad’s belly get tight with desire.
When they get up to the room, they drop their backpacks on the floor. The duvet on the bed is pristine, crisp white, and Tad doesn’t want to go near it, worried his week’s worth of filth might actually be orbiting him at this point.
Lewis seems to have the same misgivings about his accumulated dust and sweat getting on things from mere proximity. “I’m gonna shower,” he says, pointing with a thumb over his shoulder. A smile quirks one corner of his mouth. “Wanna join me?”
“Hm, let me think,” Tad says musingly, unbuttoning his jeans.
With a growly chuckle, Lewis pulls him into the bathroom. Once the water is warm enough in the shower, they peel off their clothes and step under the spray. Tad closes his eyes and lets the water run over his hair and face, feeling dirt washing away.
He opens his eyes and his breath catches. Lewis is facing him, wet hair matted against his head, rivulets of water running in glistening tracks down his body, all his naked skin shining and slick.
Tad lowers his head to take a dusky nipple in his mouth, tonguing it slowly. Lewis groans and his hands curl around the back of Tad’s neck. Nuzzling into Lewis’s pec, Tad works his nipple into a hard nub, then licks in a wider circle around it, catching the fur of Lewis’s chest on his tongue.
Lewis groans, “Wait.”
When Tad pauses, Lewis picks up the bar of soap. Slowly and deliberately, he washes every inch of Tad, lingering in the most sensitive spots, caressing when Tad shudders, occasionally dropping kisses.
In the end, Tad’s shoulders are braced against the wall, his body sparking with need. “Are you going to fuck me now?”
Lewis looks just as worked up. He leans in to give Tad the filthiest kiss he’s ever been treated to, and their erections rub together. Pure electric pleasure lightning-bolts up Tad’s spine.
“Can I wash your hair?” Lewis asks into Tad’s mouth. His hips move against Tad’s.
Tad whimpers and clutches a handful of Lewis’s ass. “I usually condition too.”
Lewis moves away from Tad’s lips and licks behind his jaw, down to where Tad’s pulse is hammering in his neck. “That’s like three to five minutes too long to wait to fuck you, though.”
Tad laughs and kisses Lewis hard. “You’ll be sorry when you see the frizzy mess I get without conditioner. You’ll never want to have sex with me again.”
The look in Lewis’s eyes makes Tad regret the joke. There’s a depth and complexity of feeling there, a mess of lust and regret and happiness and longing and—affection?
Lewis doesn’t say anything. He squeezes a pump of shampoo into his hand and lathers it in Tad’s hair, massaging Tad’s scalp. Tad drops his head to Lewis’s shoulder, letting his body go boneless.
What they did the night they met and married wasn’t like this. What they did in their tent wasn’t either. There’s tenderness in the way Lewis is touching him, washing him, taking care of him, and Tad can’t stand it for much longer. “Lewis,” he murmurs.
Lewis dips Tad’s head under the water and rinses his own hair. While he’s doing that, Tad gives Lewis’s cock a few slow strokes. “If you’re going to torture me…,” Tad says.
With a moan, Lewis lets his head fall to Tad’s shoulder. He bites Tad’s collarbone as he grabs Tad’s hips. “You win.”
Shutting off the shower, Tad replies, “We both win, sweetheart.”
Lewis’s head pops up at the endearment, eyes wide. Tad holds his breath. Then, Lewis’s face breaks into a wide smile as he elbows the shower door open, grabs a couple towels, and tows Tad to bed.