A Different Light

by Morningstar Ashley

  Bennett turned and glared at the jerk. “I’m telling you one thing funny man, I’m going home when we reach camp.”

  “No, B. Come on, it was just a little water.” Mac said as he jogged over to him.

  “A little water? I almost drowned.” Mac gave him one of those really? looks. “Okay, I didn’t almost drown, but you can see as easily as I can that camping is not for me, Mac. Please can we go home?”

  “No way, Princess. You gotta look at the bright side of these things. They’re learning adventures.”

  “I’d rather watch other people’s learning adventures on the TV from the safety of my couch,” Bennett grumbled.

  Mac wrapped an arm around his wet body and tugged him to his side as they walked down the path. “I hear ya. But this is probably the only time you’ll get to do this before you take off to big bad Boston,” Mac muttered. His voice soft and Bennett suddenly felt miserable. The same thoughts he had earlier had come back full force. Bennett just wasn’t ready to think about them, especially not after falling out of a boat.

  “That’s not for six weeks, and I wouldn’t want to repeat this adventure anytime soon.”

  Mac stayed quiet after that, and the trail was too rough for them to walk cuddled to each other, so Mac stepped back.

  Bennett wasn’t sure how to handle all of these emotions. He was torn. It wasn’t like thinking about abandoning the job he’d always wanted over a…whatever they were was even something he should be considering. He’d been in White Acre for six weeks and half of that he’d spent at odds with the man a few feet behind him. But things were different now. There were feelings. Deeper feelings than even Bennet wanted to admit to after such a short time. Maybe that was because they had a history. Not a great one but one all the same.

  Bennett moved to the side of the trail where it was all grass and weeds since walking over rocks and branches lost in thought wasn’t the best idea. He kept stumbling over everything when his mind turned inward. Another few minutes of back and forth with himself and he hadn’t made any sort of decision. Maybe he should just stop. Let it all rest until he could actually think about it.

  As soon as the thought entered his mind, he stumbled then tripped and fell. Catching himself with his hands—thankful that Mac was carrying the shit that survived them being dumped out the boat—he landed on all fours in the tall weeds.

  “Shit, B. You okay?” Bennett heard Mac’s pounding feet as he ran over to help him.

  He scrambled to get himself up off the ground as he spoke quickly, “I’m fine. I don’t need help. I got this!”

  Mac stopped next to him, hands out just in case Bennett needed him. But he never reached out and tried to help which Bennett was eternally grateful for. His pride was hurt enough.

  Mac walked closer to Bennett for the rest of the twenty-minute hike back to camp. Bennett studiously ignored his brain and thoughts of emotions and far away jobs for the here and now. He had known Mac wouldn’t bring him back home and mark camping off his bucket list.

  An hour later, after changing their clothes and cooking, they sat around eating burgers and hot dogs on plastic tops—he still couldn’t believe he burned the plates and napkins—while Bennett just soaked in the small smiles that Mac had given himself and promised to just enjoy the time they had left.

  They sat around for a while just chatting about nothing, with breaks of peaceful silence between them. Bennett enjoyed it. The rest of the camping trip could suck a monkey’s big toe but, this, the sitting and quiet and Mac, this was perfect.

  Then had come the work. Tomorrow was their last day there, and it wasn’t even a full day. They’d be leaving in the morning to get home around lunch time. Mac had said it was smart—and Bennett agreed—for them to pack up everything that wasn’t essential to the rest of their trip. It had taken more than an hour to pack and toss the shit that was garbage then load the back of the pick up. The only things they hadn’t packed was a smaller cooler with a bit of food and drink and of course the tent and bedding inside.

  Bennett went to sit down, thinking that Mac was going to be starting the fire again since night was falling quickly, but was cut off from Mac calling his name.

  “B, no sitting. We’ve got plans,” Mac hollered from behind him.

  Bennett stood and turned slowly toward Mac to see him with a bag on his shoulder.

  “What’s in the bag? And that line, “we’ve got plans,” is like a curse when it comes out of your mouth, so please, never say it again.”

  “Point taken, Princess, but this isn’t a hike or fishing or anything like that. I want to show you something.”

  Mac took them on another trail through the woods that was thick with trees that blocked out any moonlight that might slip through. Mac carried a battery operated lantern to light the way. Thankfully, it was flat and much easier to walk than the one from earlier that day. He also held Bennett’s hand the whole time. He loved it. Bennett never thought he was the romantic type, but with Mac, it was easy to fall into affectionate touching and wistful thoughts. Not that thinking those things about the man would do him any good with the whole leaving thing, but sometimes, he just couldn’t help it.

  As they walked, the trees had began to thin out, letting more moonlight filter through and allowing Bennett to see farther beyond the light of the lantern. He hated to admit it, and wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but he thought it was rather beautiful in an eerie sort of way.

  The path opened up to a clearing of green grass surrounded by trees on all sides. Bennett was stunned with the beauty of it. The moonlight shined down on the field, lighting it up like it was the sun. The only sounds that could be heard were the crickets and cicadas and the breeze rustling the dead leaves.

  “Wow,” Bennett said with clear amazement in his voice.

  “I know. It’s one of my favorite spots to go. It makes me feel like I’m in a world only I exist in.”

  Mac’s smile was just as beautiful as the nature that surrounded them. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  Mac tugged on his hand, walking them to the middle of the field before taking the bag off his shoulder and opening it up. He pulled out a patchwork blanket that he laid flat on the ground then pulled out a small bottle of what looked like wine and plastic wine glasses. Bennett’s heart warmed at the effort Mac had gone through for the night.

  Mac motioned for him to sit so he did, leaning back on his hands, much like he had the night of the Fourth of July. When Mac sat down next to him, handing him a glass of what turned out to be champagne, he felt suddenly awkward. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. Bennett never had someone do something so blatantly romantic for him before.

  Most of the men he dated took him out to dinner or a museum but never something that was romantic in the true sense of the word. No flowers or candles or soft music. No whispered words in the ear or soft touches. He was clearly dating the wrong kind of guy.

  They sat for a while in complete silence, sipping the champagne. Bennett mulled over whether asking why would be rude but decided he was too curious not too. Speaking quietly, Bennett asked, “Why did you go to all this trouble, Mac?”

  Mac looked at him for a moment, his eyes holding some emotion Bennett couldn’t pinpoint. “Because you are worth whatever trouble there would be. Really, this was simple and easy, a blanket and some champagne. Nature took care of the rest. I just wanted to show you this place.”

  “Thank you. It’s amazing, and something I desperately needed after the day we had.” Bennett had the urge to kiss the sweet man, so he did. Putting his now empty glass down, he leaned over and brushed his lips over Mac’s soft plump lips. Chaste kisses quickly turned to Mac fucking his mouth with his tongue. The wet tangle of tongues pushed Bennett to get closer, needing to feel more of Mac.

  Knowing that the awkward position they were in wouldn’t allow him to get close enough to let his hands roam free across Mac’s tight muscles, Bennett once again found himself straddling Mac’s lap. Mac groaned when
his weight settled on his hard cock. Bennett pushed his own hard length into Mac’s belly to show him he was not unaffected.

  When Mac reached up and wrapped his big hand around Bennett’s throat, holding on tight enough for him to feel controlled and held in place, Bennett released a sound somewhere between a grunt and a slutty moan. He felt free, like he was flying outside of himself and grounded at the same time.

  Pulling his lips back on a gasp as Mac pushed his cock up against his ass, Bennett leaned his forehead on Mac’s, trying to calm down and think clearly for just a minute.

  “Mac.”

  “Yeah, Princess?” Mac sounded just as breathless as Bennett.

  “What are we doing? I mean, we are in the middle of nowhere, but…here?”

  “We can do whatever we want, B. No one is around to stop us or see us.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Bennett was equal parts unsure and turned the fuck on.

  “How about you let me kiss you some more and whatever happens…happens.” Mac leaned his head back, staring right into Bennett’s eyes. He could see the want clear as day in the dark of the night. Mac was burning alive with it.

  “Yeah,” Bennett breathed out, “I think that sounds good.”

  Bennett woke up feeling the heat of the day in the tent. The air was thick, even with the battery operated fans that they each had blowing on them. An itch on his arm had him scratching without opening his eyes. Bennett still felt so sleepy, like he had a rough night’s sleep, but he couldn’t remember waking up at all. Another itch on that same spot had him scratching again.

  Bennett shifted onto his side so that the fan hit him right in the face, snuggling under the sheet with his leg hanging out. This time, when there was an itch on his chest, he thought maybe bugs had gotten into their tent, but once again, a quick scratch and it was gone. The more awake he got the itchier he felt. His arms, hands, and chest, it felt like it was everywhere.

  Muffled by his face smashed into the pillow, Mac said, “What’s wrong, Princess? A pea under the mattress?”

  “Ha. Ha. No. I’m sorry for moving so much, but I’m just feeling kind of itchy. I cannot seem to stop scratching.” Bennett deciding that getting up and checking for bugs was a good idea and sat up in bed, throwing the sheet off of his body. “Oh my god! What did I catch in this god forsaken forest!?”

  Mac sat up quickly and stared at him. Bennett glared at the smirk that played at his lips. "Oh, baby. I think you have poison ivy." Mac picked up his phone and pulled up a search engine.

  Still scratching, Bennett asked, “How did I get that in my damn sleep, Mac?”

  “You didn't. It takes at least eight hours or more to show up, so it had to have happened yesterday at some point.” Mac showed him the screen of his phone. There was a picture that looked nearly identical to the bumps that had spread across his body. Mac looked at him with those sad sympathetic eyes, and Bennett wanted to punch him in the nose. The poison ivy was his fault. It was his fault they were even in the damn woods.

  “Of course, I did! Why aren't you scratching? I had my hands all over you last night!” Bennett continued scratching without thought.

  Mac shrugged in response. “I've never reacted to it. It happens. Allie says I'm one of the lucky fifteen percent that don’t react.”

  “I hate camping, Mac, and I’m mad at you for not getting poison ivy. It was the least you could do so I don’t have to suffer alone.” Bennett knew he was pouting, but really, after the weekend from hell—minus last night’s picnic blanket fun—he was just done.

  “I know, Princess. No worries. I won’t let you suffer alone.”

  After that, Mac packed up the tent and the bedding as Bennett scratched and put the cooler and garbage in the back of the truck.

  “You gotta try not to scratch, B. It'll only make it worse and make it spread."

  “Fuck you,” Bennett grumbled. Mac kept yelling at him to stop scratching, but it was near impossible. The longer he tried to hold off the worse the itching had become.

  Before long, they were in the truck and on the road home. The trip seemed to take hours with Bennett sitting on his hands, practically rocking back and forth to stop himself from scratching his skin raw.

  As soon as the truck had pulled into Mac’s driveway, Mac jumped out and helped him into the house. Mac didn’t even bother to grab a bag or anything.

  “We have to do something to stop the itching. I have calamine lotion that'll help lessen the itch. It doesn’t always work for everyone, but let's do that first." Mac ran upstairs to grab the medicine as Bennett paced back and forth in his living room, hands in his pockets. Mac’s heavy footsteps were music to Bennett’s ears. They had to do something to stop that itch.

  Mac applied calamine lotion to Bennett's hands, arms, and chest. But, as hour after hour went by with no relief in sight, Bennett was desperate from the itching. None of the distractions Mac was providing were working.

  “You have to do something. I can’t stop scratching!”

  “Okay, hang tight.” Mac fled the living room in the direction of the kitchen. Even from there, Bennett could hear Mac banging around, clearly looking for something. When he came back into the room with oven mitts, Bennett was confused. When he saw the duct tape, he was even more confused.

  “What is that for?”

  Without stopping, Mac proceeded to put the mitts over Bennett's hands then grabbed the duct tape. “I saw it on an episode of Friends once. They did it to prevent themselves from scratching.”

  “Are you telling me that you’re taking medical advice from a comedic television show?” Bennett said with absolute disbelief.

  “Well, not really. I mean, I’m not performing surgery. It’s oven mitts.”

  Although Bennett could no longer scratch the itches, they hadn’t lessened at all. The longer he couldn’t scratch, the more desperate he became to scratch. One time he asked Mac to go get him a drink just so he could go rub himself over the corner of the wall. Mac caught him, laughed then proceeded to pull him away and back to the couch.

  They decided they needed some expert help, so Bennett called his mom. Well, Mac dialed and placed the phone on the ottoman.

  “Hello, darling.” His mom’s voice always had been one that reminded him of comfort.

  “Hey, Mom. I need some advice.”

  “Oh, alright, ask away.”

  “I went camping—”

  “You went camping?” His mom sounded incredulous. Of course, he understood. His dad asked him a few times to go on fishing trips with him and his buddies that would require camping, but he always said no.

  “Yes, Mom. You can blame Mac. I think he drugged me.”

  “Hey! I did not drug you!”

  “Oh. Mac, dear. How are you? Good for you getting my Bennett camping.”

  “I’m good, Mrs. Cole, but your son got poison ivy on our last day and we need to know what to do.”

  “Oh, well, what have you tried? Let’s start there.”

  They went through the very short list of things that they did, Mac even had the nerve to tell his mom that he let him duct tape oven mitts to his hands. After a few minutes of conversation, they had a list of six things they could do.

  They both thanked his mom, and right before they hung up, she said, “Bennett you let that boy take care of you. He’ll be good to you, he has a caretaker’s heart.”

  “I will, Mom.”

  Bennett felt shy after that statement from his mom. He wasn’t sure why, really. His mom said something about Mac, not him. Mac broke the slightly awkward silence that followed the phone call.

  “Alright, first things first. You need a shower, and we need to get those clothes in the wash, along with the ones from last night. For now, I’ll just toss those in the machine as you climb in the shower. I’ll text Allie and ask her to get the oatmeal stuff your mom talked about and an antihistamine.”

  “You’d make a good drill sergeant.” Bennett quipped.

  “Okay, funny man, let’s go
upstairs and shower.”

  “You’re showering with me?!” Bennett really liked the sound of that.

  “Knock it off.” At Bennett’s innocent blank stare, Mac continued, “I can see the look on your face, dirty boy. No kinky sexy stuff for boys who can’t stop scratching. The shower will be purely clinical.”

  Bennett huffed and started to walk away and up the stairs calling over his shoulder, “All you had to say is you wanted to play doctor with me, Mac.”

  A very no funny business shower, an efficient rub down with some more calamine lotion being applied after, along with the oven mitts being taped back onto his hands, and they were both back downstairs. Bennett had borrowed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from Mac—both too baggy but at least they weren’t too long—and Mac had dressed similarly. When Allie arrived to drop off the oatmeal bath and Benadryl, she stayed just a few minutes to fret over Bennett and yell at Mac to take care of him.

  Bennett really liked that woman.

  By the time the drugs were in his system, the sun had gone down, and Bennett was feeling silly and happy but mostly tired, and of course, a lot less itchy.

  They cuddled on Mac’s couch, Bennett’s head on Mac’s chest with Mac watching the television.

  “Hey, B?” Mac’s quiet voice broke into his thoughts, so he lifted his head off his chest and smiled up at the gorgeous man.

  “You’re pretty.”

  Mac chuckled and said thank you with a small caress on his cheek. “You look tired. You wanna go to bed?”

  “Ugh, that means moving.”

  “It does, but it’s not far. You can do it.” Mac gently moved him to sit up and stood. Reaching down, he helped Bennett, who felt a little like jelly, off the couch and walked him upstairs to his room. Bennett loved the look of Mac’s room.

  The wall behind the bed was dark wood while the other walls were navy blue. The furniture was just as rustic as the rest. The only part of the room that was light were the windows and the throw rug on the floor.