Nature's Calling

I was not a happy camper.

I was even less of a happy camper half an hour later, precariously balanced on a cropping of jagged rocks, yanking on my fishing pole and watching the bobber bob along. I tugged on the line, reeling it in a little, trying to tempt the rainbow trout into biting. It wasn't working. This was the most boring and tedious sport ever.

Sighing, I tipped my head back, gazing around. The jutting mountains were a breathtaking backdrop, trees crowding close on either side, towering, soaring into the sky, the water rippling and sparkling in the sun. The surface of the water reflected back the image of nature at its most beautiful but I couldn't find it in myself to admire it.

No, I was too busy admiring Kieran, fool that I was.

Aviator shades protecting my eyes from the glaring sun, I watched him through the tinted glass, his wrist flicking forward and releasing his line into the water. He was standing right at the shore, his jeans cuffed up to his knees, legs submerged in the water to mid-calf. His face was still so neutral but he seemed at peace, tension leeching out of him the longer he was here.

I glanced away, disgusted with myself, wishing it was that easy for me.

But, no. I was tensed, wound taut to the breaking point. And I couldn't say it was anxiety about being here that had me this way, or even fear that I'd topple off my precarious perch and belly flop into the water, or nerves about upcoming finals back at school.

No, it was all Kieran, damn him.

Kieran, Kieran, Kieran. Someone hand me a noose now so I could fucking hang myself. I couldn't keep up with this obsession.

Something had to be done here.

******

Something wasn't done.

We pissed away the rest of the day fishing. Or, in my case, amusing the fish with my inept skills with a rod -- har, har. Between Molly, Rick and Kieran, the accumulated fish caught reached into the dozens, but I hid my envy well. If some of Rick's fish ended up being liberated and set back into their aquatic home, well, that was just an accident.

Back at the cabin, Molly assigned the task of cleaning and gutting the poor, deceased fish to me and Kieran. I thought about protesting but, really, what was the point? Molly always got her way.

On the back deck, there was a nice wooden surface that looked as if it had been used for just this purpose before, with plenty of nicks and stains I didn't want identified. It was clean, though, so I slapped the rainbow trout down and watched Kieran for instruction.

"What do we do?" I asked him.

In answer, he whipped out a wicked butcher knife and chopped the head clean off one.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed.

I gagged, watching the head tumble off the table, bouncing several times before finally coming to a stop. Head up, beady black eyes round and protuberant, and staring right at me. I left the rest of the head chopping for him.

He gave an uncharacteristic grimace. "I don't like doing this," he admitted.

Accepting a fillet knife from him, I followed his lead by taking one of the decapitated fish, turning it belly up and eviscerating the son of a bitch. From asshole toward where his head used to be, I sliced him open, triggering my gag reflex when I reached inside the poor bastard for his entrails. After repeating that process way too many times for my peace of mind, I took the old toothbrush Kieran handed me, cleaning the blood vein that ran along the spine.

After rinsing the disemboweled, decapitated fish, I gladly handed them off to Molly for cooking. Although, honestly, after seeing and participating in the grisly details of its preparation, I wasn't so sure I could eat it.

I scrubbed my hands raw, using a nail brush to get into every crease, scalding hot water melting off a layer of my skin. If it got the blood and gore off, I didn't care. If only I could scrub my brain just as thoroughly to remove the memory of that particular experience. I had a feeling it would haunt me for the rest of my days.

Retreating outside with Kieran afterwards, leaving Molly and Rick to their cooking duties, I settled in one of the lounge chairs on the deck. The waning sunlight cast shadows up here but the sky was tinged crimson, tapering off into striations of pretty pinks and purples. It lit the whole area on fire, the grass tipped in a burnished gold, the trees and shrubbery tinged an orangish-gold. It was gorgeous.

And I just consigned another slice of my masculinity to hell for that thought.

I tipped my head back, glancing over at Kieran. His face had an odd flush to it, courtesy of the blazing sunset, his black hair reflecting a reddish tint. Now, he was gorgeous, but I'd never voice that thought aloud. Not ever. "I've noticed something about you," I murmured.

His eyes flicked over. "And what's that?" he asked, taking my hand and examining the raw skin of my knuckles. That movement disproved what I was about to say to him but I said it, anyway.

"You don't touch people."

True, he'd touched me a couple of times, was touching me right now, but briefly and mainly for inspection of injuries. He'd hugged Molly when we arrived but it had been stiff, the handshake with Rick quick and grudging. Since then, he'd maintained a safe distance from everyone, tensing anytime someone accidentally brushed against him. Like yesterday, with me, planting that tree. He shied away from Molly, even, anytime she got too close.

He gave a noncommittal shrug, not confirming nor denying my claim, his cool fingers a nice balm to my hot and scraped skin. I shivered at that contact, feeling those light touches grip something deep inside me, my heart speeding up.

I cleared my throat. "Why is that, do you wonder?"

"I just don't like physical contact," he mumbled.

I glanced down at our hands, which had become clasped together, his no longer intent on soothing my injuries. Fingers loosely intertwined, they hung together in the space between our chairs, and I didn't find myself objecting or pulling away. He glanced down, too, as if aware that he was making himself out to be a liar.

He shrugged again. "You're different," he said.

And that's all that he would say.

******

It turned out that, when confronted by a fish I'd helped gut and behead, my appetite did a nosedive. All grilled and golden brown, nice little lemon slices bordering it, the fish gave off a heavenly aroma. But I still saw those beady black eyes staring up at me with accusation plain in its dead gaze.

"Oh, God, I'm gonna be sick," I blurted, feeling my stomach heave, my esophagus burning as bile scorched a trail up my throat.

I was up and out of my chair in about two seconds flat.

Kieran was more respectful than I was but I noticed he declined dinner, too, blasting out of his comfort zone and pecking a kiss to Molly's forehead to soften the blow.

My stomach gave another painful lurch as I cradled the toilet, my head hanging inside the bowl. Sanitary, no, but I had watery saliva gushing from my mouth and each heave of my stomach emptied its contents, until I was sure there was nothing left. Then even more emptied out. My eyes watered involuntarily, my nose red and runny, and still I heaved.

If I never saw another fish again it'd be too soon.

When my stomach finished its acrobatics, I leveraged myself up, hands braced against the sink. Now that the queasiness of the fish fiasco was over, I was now sick from puking. You know that feeling, stomach hollow and empty, throat raw and strained, every breath hurting like hell. I managed to stand upright long enough to scrub the ickiness from my teeth and tongue, gagging on every upstroke of the bristles on my taste buds.

I stumbled back downstairs, collapsing onto the couch, curling into a tight ball and cradling my aching tummy. My eyelids weighted down, shuttering closed, but I fought the seductive allure of sleep. If only I could open my eyes again.

The couch shifted beside me, a cool hand brushing against my cheek, fingers combing gently through my hair. I mumbled something unintelligible, moving into that touch, and found my head cradled in a lap, those same soothing fingers continuing with those slow, easy caresses. It was lulling me to sleep, my breathing evening out, consciousness receding. I felt safe, protected.

And still those fingers combed. Still they feathered against my cheek. Still they soothed and comforted and sated.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

Time was a little skewed when next my lids pried open, eyes feeling gritty and hot. The room was dark, the only light provided by the television, The Town playing onscreen. I watched Ben Affleck and Blake Lively going at it on a chair, feeling a warm palm on my neck, fingers tangled in my hair. I did a quick assessment of my stomach and got a twinge in response but I no longer felt like I was on the verge of tossing my cookies all over the place.

Groaning, I rolled over onto my back, my ear smashing up against a hard abdomen.

Uh-oh.

I winced, my gaze slowly rising to meet Kieran's. The shadows encroached on us, creating a very close and intimate atmosphere, playing across the harshly sensual planes of his face. My breath caught at the smolder that had returned to those aquamarine depths but it was tempered by a way too touching concern.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

Mutely, I bobbed my head yes.

"How's your stomach?" he pressed.

My mouth gaped. "It's all right."

Grinning, his fingers untangled from my hair, his thumb brushing a soft caress against my cheek. For the first time, his eyes were so warm, completely thawed, a tenderness mingling with the smoldering embers. I was caught by those eyes, ensnared, but I found it within myself to sit up, putting a few feet of distance between us. I couldn't deal with the answering emotions brewing in me, ones that complemented the things represented there.

My cock gave an insistent twitch in my pants but contrary to popular belief I wasn't completely ruled by my little head. Which wasn't all that little, by the way.

"Ethan," he whispered.

I shivered, his voice speaking my name so reverently, as if he was savoring it, making chills attack my body. Swallowing, I raised my gaze to meet his again, seeing his grin had slipped away, but the smolder was still there, stoking into a hotter and brighter conflagration. The flames were consuming me and I didn't think I could escape them this time. Wasn't even sure I wanted to by this point.

After all the teasing, all those tantalizing close calls, I was fucking primed. Moving almost unconsciously, I leaned forward on my hands, crawling, inching back to his side. His gaze tracked me, and I suddenly felt like the gazelle cornered by the cheetah, but it was an exciting feeling. He caught me in his arms as I tumbled forward, his eyes dipping down to my lips.

"Are you sure?" he murmured.

"No." Yes. "I-I don't know."

At first, I thought he was going to back down at my indecisiveness, but suddenly his palm was cradling my cheek, his head lowering until our mouths were only separated by a breath. Taking the plunge, I closed that infinitesimal gap, molding my lips to his.

Instant fireworks.

My skin tingling, limbs trembling, I sat up on my knees straddling his lap, my arms winding around his neck, fingers tunneling into the silky smoothness of his hair. All without separating our lips. A moan of unadulterated desire rumbled up my throat, a guttural groan that was reciprocated in kind from Kieran. His mouth opened, tongue darting out to tease at the seam of my lips, coaxing them apart until my own tongue could meet his.

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer and closer, my erection pressing insistently against his torso. The friction ratcheted up my desire, my frenzy, and I deepened the kiss, my tongue plunging deep, stroking his with wild abandon. His grip shifted, one hand rising to curve around my neck, holding my head still as his mouth ravaged my own.

God, I'd never before felt this level of urgency, this out of control. I didn't even believe I was breathing anymore, Kieran's kisses supplying all the oxygen I needed, every nerve ending, every fucking cell in my body ignited with a fierce, primal desire. Kieran groaned again, the sound so lost and helpless, exactly how I felt right now. I was on the same page with him and when had I ever been able to say that? Never had I been on the same page with a girl before, never had I even been in the same fucking book. Shit, I'd never even been in the same goddamn library, that's how detached I always was before.

But this... This was fucking monumental. This was earth-shattering.

This was... right.

Shit.

Tearing my lips from his, gasping at the sudden deprivation to my senses, I stared wide-eyed at the rosy, kiss swollen lips of Kieran, my hands trembling as I snatched them from around his neck. Stumbling back, away from him, not able to meet the confused, even hurt gaze of the man I'd been practically dry humping, I turned and fled.

Tears suddenly obscuring my vision, I escaped from the cabin, fleeing from that truth I'd been running from ever since meeting Kieran. Blubbering, snotty, I ran with no destination in mind, intent only on getting away. I blundered into the tree coverage, unable to see where I was going but not caring.

I ran, quickly developing a stitch in my side, lungs burning and sweat soaking me from the exertion. I could hear the blood whooshing in my ears, hear the erratic pounding of my heart, the rough breaths sawing in and out of my lungs, everything abnormally loud. But none of it drowned out the screaming in my own mind. Running, I didn't even care, didn't even notice the branches snagging at my clothes and hair, scraping against my skin and leaving scratches that beaded with blood.

None of that was important. Nothing was as important as what I'd just blatantly and quite joyfully revealed about myself.

No matter how much the truth had been staring you in the face, that final realization was never easy to swallow.

Not easy at all.

~*~Day Three~*~

We were leaving today.

We were leaving... and I suddenly didn't want to leave. Quite the conundrum, I knew, considering how vehement I was about not coming here but that was before, well, everything.

Now, you might be wondering about my freak out last night, my blubbering, sobbing hissy fit, and all I could say in my defense was that I was a drama queen. Who would've thunk it? I'd expended so much energy denying the truth that had already turned my world topsy-turvy so last night, that kiss, those feelings, they were just a little intense. A little too much a little too soon, you know?

I reserved the right to freak out.

But now the truth was clear, rising like a Phoenix out of the fiery embers of the bottomless abyss I'd repeatedly tossed it into, born anew and stronger than ever.

About time, right?

Crouched on the cropping of rocks I'd perched on yesterday, I flicked a small, flat stone into the water, watching it skip along seven times before sinking. Ever expanding ripples commenced, disrupting the reflective, glass-smooth surface of the water. It was one of the few things I could do with any level of skill out here.

All night long I'd been out here, wallowing in my self-induced misery, only reaching an accord with myself when the first rays of dawn filtered down through the trees. Fog still clung to the ground, a heavy, smoky shroud that sinuously undulated over the water. I stabbed my elbow into my knee, propping my chin on my fist, hearing the soft cadence of the morning birds.

There was a lot of shit left unanswered -- Kieran being the one man I desired, blah, blah, blah. Maybe I was just more into commitment than I thought, being crazily, if subconsciously, devoted to him since I first met him. All those women I'd tried it with never stood a chance because the one man I wanted had been just out of reach for the longest time.

It was poetic, really, romantic as Molly had said. It was... Fate, intervening to offer me something I never knew I wanted, what I needed. God, Molly had been right on the money, and I'd been too much of a fucking pussy to face it. I'd been a coward but no more.

Standing, I skidded back down to solid ground, treading carefully lest I topple into the water. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, and tipped my head back so I could feel the cool morning air caress my face. A fine mist sprinkled my skin, seeping into my pores and lending me a fraction of peace. Peace that had remained just out of grasp all night until now.

This was... nice. I sighed, releasing the tension that had clung to me for far too long.

As much as I loathed all this outdoorsy stuff, there was something to be said about the utter stillness and silence of dawn. Out here, at this moment, there was no need for a front. I didn't have to pretend. And there was freedom in that. Who knew Nature would've actually helped me this weekend? Nature and Molly, both conspiring to get me to admit what was so obvious, and I heeded their call like a good little boy.

Now we were leaving. But first...

First, I needed to find Kieran. I needed to finish this.

If he would even still have me.

******

Kieran wasn't at the cabin.

I stood at a loss in the living room, the silence inside deafening, not sure what my next plan of action should be. All I knew was that I didn't want to leave before seeing him and nothing, no one, would thwart me. If only I knew where to find him. And if he even wanted to be found.

Maybe he was purposely staying out of sight, hoping for out of mind, too, but I couldn't let him do that. It was as simple, and as complicated, as that.

Setting my jaw, straightening my shoulders, I strode determinably out of the cabin, my fists clenched and a calm resolution driving me. Regardless whether this thing played out the way I wanted it to or not, I still needed to find him, to see him one last time. But I faltered just outside because, shit, there were too many places he could've disappeared to.

I worried my bottom lip, chomping until I drew blood. Where, oh where, could my baby be?

Listening intently, I heard the susurrant murmuring of rushing water, the same sound I'd heard when first arriving. I'd thought of it as a babbling brook and now it called to me, pulling me inexorably into the trees. I ducked, dodged, dipped and dived away from those reaching branches, a humming expectation thrumming through my body, but it couldn't entirely quell my anxiety. Trepidation, apprehension, the whole nine yards, holmes; I was feeling it all, a volatile cocktail, shaken not stirred.

But I wouldn't let it deter me.

When finally I came upon the source of that sound, I was smudged with dirt, leaves caught in my hair and shirt a little ragged because a bush had decided to fondle me, but all of my suffering receded at the sight of Kieran. Everything else receded but him.

Eyes wide, breath catching, I gazed around this secret, enchanted hideaway. A small, natural pool of water was sparkling with a lovely emerald gleam, reflecting the wildness encroaching close, exposed rocks like stepping stones extending across to the other side. A beautiful, powerful waterfall fed the stream, frothing white on impact, ripples expanding outward to lap at the muddy embankment.

And Kieran was... naked. Wet. Standing proud and unashamed, his head tipping back to accept a nice dousing from the waterfall.

Mm-mmm. Me want, that treacherous part of my brain whispered.

I waited expectantly for the sensible side to offer objections but, curiously, none came. We were in total agreement for once.

My feet moved of their own accord, stepping closer to the edge of that lapping water, and I must have made some telltale noise because Kieran's head snapped around, icy eyes boring into me. The impact of those clear, fathomless blue depths had me faltering once again, my gaze caught and ensnared. My heart fluttered erratically, the butterflies in my stomach turning into motherfucking Mothra.