by A. E. Wasp
Troy turned and smiled. “Not really.”
Alarmed, Dmitri smacked him on the arm. “Eyes on the road! I’m too young and pretty to plunge to my death.”
Troy laughed. “We’re going about fifteen miles an hour. I don’t think we’re going to plunge.”
Dmitri snorted his skepticism.
Troy reached over, across Moby’s back, and laid his hand on Dmitri’s thigh. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
Dmitri liked the sound of all of that. He shoved Moby. “Move, mutt. Get in the back.” Moby complied, slinking over the back of the seat, giving Dmitri a mouthful of silk tail fur in the process.
Dmitri slid as close to Troy as the seatbelt would allow. “I’m in your hands,” he said, draping his arm across the seatback and wrapping his hand around the back of Troy’s neck.
“I like the sound of that,” Troy said.
They drove for a while in silence, Troy stopping to check the map against the stand-alone GPS precariously balanced on his dashboard, until after a sharp turn down a steep road, they dropped into a small valley. A tiny lake peeked out between the trees. To Dmitri’s surprise, there were actually a few small campsites marked out around its edges. Each spot had a picnic table and a fire pit.
A fire pit over which Troy was now making dinner. It smelled delicious, and Dmitri’s stomach growled. He forced himself to turn away from the sunset and walk over to Troy. “Please tell me that is going to be done soon.”
“A few more minutes. But it’s just burgers, nothing fancy.”
“Everything tastes better outdoors.”
“That it does.”
While the burgers finished cooking, they turned the table to face the west so they could watch the sun go down as they ate.
“So where was your favorite place you’ve been?” Dmitri asked.
Troy chewed thoughtfully, as he stared out at the tree line. “Turkey was gorgeous. I really loved Olympos in Turkey. There were these ancient ruins that you walked through that lead you next to a river down to the Mediterranean.” He moved his hands as he talked, sketching out the scene. “The beach was all shiny pebbles, and it curved off in both directions, like a bay. Behind you are the mountains. And there are ruins peeking out from the side of the mountain. Amazing. The whole place is set up for backpacker tourists, so you spend the nights hanging out under these patios around the fire talking to people from all over the world. Half of the guesthouses are kind of treehouses. It’s amazing; you would love it.”
Dmitri had stopped eating, hamburger halfway to his mouth. “It sounds amazing,” he said when Troy finished. “Do you have any pictures?”
Troy laughed. “Way too many pictures. I take a zillion pictures of everything.” He patted the expensive-looking digital camera sitting on the table next to him. He had taken a ton of pictures of the sunset and the trees. Dmitri couldn’t quite figure out what he was taking pictures of. It all looked the same to him.
“Well, I can’t wait to see them.”
“Be careful what you wish for. I have a thousand pictures of the mountains in Italy. They really surprised me with how beautiful they looked.”
“You really love the mountains, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I really do. There’s something so peaceful about them. So eternal. I try to go hiking at least once in every new place.”
Dmitri sighed. “I wish I could see the places you’ve seen. I’ve always wanted to travel the world.”
“Do it.”
“You say it like it’s so easy. It’s not .. I have a job, you know. And I don’t get that much time off. I get a week paid and then occasional long weekend here and there. I feel like I spend most of my vacation,” he emphasized the word with finger quotes, “visiting family or doing stuff around the house. And I have so much debt; it’s not like I can take a break from working.”
“Really? I thought, well, I thought all vets made a lot of money?”
“The pay doesn’t suck; I’ll admit it. But between the student loans and the mortgage payments on the house, it’s tight. I don’t exactly have a cushion.”
Troy leaned an elbow on the table and shifted to look at Dmitri. The sun had finished setting. Firelight played across Troy’s hair and profile. “I thought you said the house was your grandparents? It’s not paid off?”
Dmitri shook his head, sighing. He hated thinking about it. “No. They took some loans against it, and so did my parents. Refinancing during that housing boom when all of a sudden it was worth five times what they’d paid for it. For my school, for my sister’s nursing school. Then the market crashed, my dad got ‘excessed’ from his job, and all of a sudden, they were going to lose the house. They were upside down in the mortgage and couldn’t even sell it.”
“Oh man, that sucks.” Troy frowned.
“That’s why I have it. I bought them out so they could have some cash and move like they wanted. That place was just a weight around their necks. I figured with my salary; it would be easier to make the payments. And it is. But there’s, you know, utilities and taxes and upkeep. And don’t even get me started on how much I owe in student loans. So, between all of that - the job, the house, the debt, I don’t have much free time or free cash to travel.”
Dmitri’s voice had risen as he’d continued. He’d been sitting on that for a long time apparently. It wasn’t as if he had anyone he could vent to. After all, he made a decent salary and had a safe place to live. Angel had real money problems. All she had was a server’s salary and a shared two-bedroom apartment in the sketchier part of town. He couldn’t complain to his parents; that would only make them feel bad, and then they’d try to fix it.
“I’m sorry,” Troy said. “There’s got to be something you can do.”
Dmitri scoffed. “Yeah, well, if you think of it, I’m all ears. I’m looking into some other jobs that have a student loan payoff as part of it. That might help.” He sighed and leaned back against the table, suddenly tired. “Ignore me. I’m whining, and I’m tired, and I’m sure compared to what you’ve seen, the troubles of some well-paid white guy doctor don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.”
Troy pulled Dmitri against him, arranging them so Troy’s chest was against his back. “Stress is stress. Sometimes you just have to let it out. We’ll figure out something. It’s not that bad.”
That “we” sounded awfully nice to Dmitri. And that made him nervous. He believed Troy wanted to help, but really, he barely knew Dmitri. Dmitri knew how it went; nobody helped you without wanting something in return, making demands on your time or energy, the two things he held most dear. His last boyfriend had broken up with him because, according to him, Dmitri never had time for him. They had seen each other at least once a week. How much did he need?
Dmitri’s thoughts spiraled down along a familiar track of despair. He took a deep breath and focused on the feeling of Troy’s body against his. He was going to take a lesson from his parents’ new-agey lectures and try to ‘be in the moment.’ Not worry about the future or revisit the past. Just be.
And this moment was looking pretty perfect. The full moon rose over the mountains, silhouetting the trees against the night sky. The wind in the pines made a sound like a distant sea, and he smelled wood smoke and pine and Troy. Perfection.
He sighed and relaxed against Troy.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Troy said, kissing the top of his head. “That’s why I camp. The way it just makes all your problems just…go away for a while.”
The casual intimacy of the kiss made something inside Dmitri lurch painfully. “It’s beautiful up here. Thank you for bringing me.”
“Thank you for coming with me.”
“For forcing you to take me, you mean.”
“Hey, no. I like the way you badgered me. Made me miss my mom.” His voice dropped. “Made me feel like you cared.”
“I do care.” More than I should, he thought. This time the silence was a little awkward. It was
too early to be saying things like that, Dmitri knew. Way, way too early. Tree frogs chirped around them, and something rustled in the bushes. A doe and her late season fawn stepped out from between the trees and froze.
Troy dropped a hand onto Moby’s collar. “Moby, quiet,” he whispered.
To Dmitri’s surprise, the dog didn’t so much as whine.
The deer and the humans stared at each other for a long minute before they bounded away, disappearing into the silvered shadows of the trees.
The campfire burned down to red coals, and Troy pulled out the makings for s’mores.
Dmitri turned out to be the best at toasting the marshmallows, patiently turning them until the entire lump had turned a crisp golden brown. “See? I have some outdoorsy skills.”
“You’re a regular Mountain Man.”
Dmitri shoved the rest of his s’more into his mouth, and then yawned so wide his jaw clicked.
“Tired?” Troy asked.
“A little. I didn’t sleep so good last night.”
Troy laughed. “I wonder why. Okay, let’s clean up and get ready to sack out.”
Before they could move, fireworks exploded like electric flowers in the night. They seemed far off, the sound muted, a soft thunder in the distance. Dmitri tensed, but Troy barely reacted.
“Beautiful,” Troy said. “Happy Fourth.”
“Happy Fourth.” Dmitri contemplated the reason for the celebration of Independence Day in a way he never had before. A celebration of the start of a new nation, of the end of a deadly struggle for the right of a people to govern their own country the way they wanted to. What did Troy think about that historic battle for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? What, if anything, did a war in far off Afghanistan have to do with any of this? One day, if their friendship or whatever this was lasted long enough, Dmitri would ask him, and they would have a nice long talk. But not tonight. Tonight, it was just them, the dog, and Mother Nature.
The wind picked up as the sun set, and Troy got up from the table, gathering the dirty plates together. Dmitri stood there awkwardly while Troy cleaned up. “How can I help?” he asked.
“You could set up the truck.”
“Are you sure you don’t want any help cleaning up? You cooked, and, if I’m not mistaken, the cook doesn’t have to do the cleanup.”
“No, I don’t mind. I’ve always liked doing the dishes; it helps me think.”
That worked for Dmitri. On an impulse, he had grabbed some things from his house, and he hoped he could surprise Troy.
Moby followed him as he went to the back of the truck. He lifted open the back window and then lowered the tailgate. It weighed about twice what he had expected, and it dropped with a heavy thud. “Sorry!” He hoped he hadn’t broken anything.
“Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.” Troy poured some water from the pot heating up on the small camp stove he had bought. He gave the dishes a cursory scrub and dried them off.
chapter fourteen
Dmitri crawled into the back of the truck. Moby leaped in behind him. Inside, the truck bed was bigger than he had thought. He could kneel in it easily without hitting his head on the ceiling. It looked like he could stretch out fully and still have plenty of room to spare. Digging through the plastic bins stacked against the front of the truck bed, he found the sleeping bags and the sleeping pads. He’d been surprised to find the one he had shoved into a closet a decade ago still worked.
Not wanting to presume anything, he rolled out the sleeping bags separately, one to a pad. They’d grabbed every pillow Dmitri could easily get his hands on, including his grandmother’s ancient throw pillows and knitted afghan off the couch. He spread them out, propping some of them up against the totes for a backrest in case Troy wanted to read. He really hoped Troy didn’t want to read.
Dmitri stacked the totes back up, and then found a spot for Moby’s dog bed near the tailgate. Hoping he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries and invading Troy’s personal space, he dug out the strings of battery operated Christmas lights that he had found when Troy had been going through the drawers.
They seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. Hoping that Troy wouldn’t be mad, he carefully taped the Christmas lights to the top of the aluminum shell. With the flip of a switch, the white lights twinkled to life.
The lights and the bedding transformed the empty metal shell. It looked like a warm, safe, cozy place where they could hide away from the rest of the world. Dmitri sat cross-legged on his sleeping bag. He couldn’t wait to sleep next to Troy. His cheeks flushed as he remembered the feel of his mouth on Troy and the way he had looked leaning against his kitchen counter post orgasm. Dmitri could admit it; he was hoping for some kind of repeat performance tonight, despite the logistical challenges of the small space, but he realized he wouldn’t be disappointed if nothing happened.
This night, this weekend, was about Troy. About helping him get through the Fourth of July with as little trauma as possible. It wasn’t about sex, no matter how much Dmitri wanted Troy to return the favor. He was so caught up in the thought of getting Troy’s mouth on him, that he didn’t hear Troy coming to the back of the truck.
“Hey, that looks awesome.” Troy set down an old Stanley thermos on the tailgate.
Dmitri jumped. “Oh, crap, you scared me.”
“Sorry. Those lights look great. I didn’t even see you bring them.”
“It’s a surprise. Do you like them?”
Troy handed in the thermos and climbed up onto the tailgate. “I love it. You ready for bed?”
“Yeah,” Dmitri was surprised by how tired he felt. It had been a long, strange two days. Being around Troy brought up all kinds of feelings and thoughts that he’d been ignoring for so long. Made him yearn for things he thought he’d given up on years ago. It wore him out. “Are you sure you like the lights? I thought it’d be festive.”
“You made it special. It feels like a secret clubhouse. Now take those clothes off.” He made a face when Dmitri waggled his eyebrows. “Take your clothes off and put your pajamas on because we cooked in those clothes and you smell like a hamburger, and I really don’t want any bears breaking into the back of my truck.”
“You make an excellent argument.” Dmitri pulled his small backpack towards him.
Troy reached into the truck. “Could you toss me out my pack so I can grab mine?” When Dimitri did, Troy stripped out of clothes right out in the open, moonlight and the faint white light of the Christmas lights outlining his body.
In no time at all, they were tucked up in the back of the truck, all the food and smelly clothes packed safely outside in the bear box. The cool breeze through the window screens on the side of the truck cap felt heavenly after the heat of the summer day. The night cooled down quickly at that altitude.
Laying on top of the blanket, staring up at the blinking lights, Dmitri was very conscious of Troy’s body next to his. Desire simmered below the surface, but he felt at peace, just lying there, listening to Troy breathe, and feeling the heat of his skin against his.
Though there wasn’t nearly enough skin in Dmitri’s opinion. Troy slept in sweatpants, a t-shirt and socks. For a second there, Dmitri had thought he was going to keep his boots on as well, but after a second’s hesitation, Troy took them off. He set them, unlaced and ready to be slipped on, near the foot of the truck.
“I’d leave them outside,” he said, “but the last time I did that, a coyote ran off with one of them. I hadn’t packed extra, so I had to drive into town to buy myself a pair of cheap sneakers just to get home.”
Dmitri felt underdressed in boxers and a light t-shirt. It was too late to change without being awkward, and besides he had nothing change into. Moby snored from her spot at the foot of the bed. Sleep weighed down Dmitri’s eyelids as he rested, comfortable simply sleeping next to a man in a way he had never been before.
Troy rolled onto his side, resting his hand gently on Dmitri’s chest. “I�
�m glad you’re here,” he said softly.
His face was beautiful in the glow of the Christmas lights. His eyes were dark, his lips full. Dmitri slid his fingers up Troy’s arms tracing the path of the tattoos. He could just make out an anchor and a compass, and some surprisingly delicate roses that transitioned into thorns and barbed wire where they disappeared under the sleeve of his t-shirt.
Dmitri felt like he wanted to say something, like he should say something right then, but the feeling in his heart scared him. The way it pounded against his chest was more than the altitude; he was terrified. This thing between them felt like it had the potential to be something bigger, something more than any of his past relationships. He wasn’t ready for it; he hadn’t been expecting it.
There was so much he didn’t know about Troy, so much he didn’t know about his past, about his time in Afghanistan. Had he killed a man? Men? Had he seen his friends die? Had he been hurt in some invisible way?
There seemed to be only one thing to do in the face of all the unknowns. Dmitri slid his hands up into Troy’s hair and pulled him down into a long kiss.
The lights dimmed then flickered off as the batteries died. Darkness filled the truck.
Dmitri smiled against Troy’s lips. “Guess I should have put in new batteries.”
Troy gave him a deep kiss and pulled back the barest inch. “I like the dark,” he whispered.
Dmitri was suddenly glad for the dark, scared of what Troy might see on his face, and of what he might read in Troy’s eyes.
They kissed until Dmitri’s lips were swollen and sore. When Dmitri pulled back to gasp for air and try to get himself somewhat under control, Troy rolled on top of him, sucking bruises into his neck. Dmitri spread his legs without conscious thought, and Troy slid lower, pressing them together. Troy’s cock pressed against his, both of them hard.
“Oh, my God.” One of Dmitri’s hands flew to Troy’s ass pulling him harder against him as he rocked his hips against Troy’s body. The other hand held his head pressed against Dmitri’s neck. “Oh, God, just like that. Just like that.” He thrust up sharply against Troy’s weight, once, twice, when he realized he was right on the edge. “Oh God, stop. Stop, stop.” He yanked Troy’s mouth off his neck and pushed up against his hips with the other hand, trying to get some space between them. “Oh my God, I’m going to come if you keep doing that.”
