Camp Little Creek Ch. 01

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American Perverted

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American Perverted is an anthology series that follows characters from each American state. Each state is assigned a story, characters, and a specific theme. This theme may include a fetish, fantasy, or other premise that the story will revolve around. The state is merely used as a backdrop, and does not reflect the theme in place.

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Today's Story

Location: Camp Little Creek, Wyoming

Theme: Gay Discovery (Male on Male)

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Camp Little Creek

Chapter One: A Wet Landing

Chapter Content:Platonic, Smelling

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"It's one week, Henry."

I continued to ignore my mom's voice. My eyes lazily scanned my phone, reeling in the last little bit of service. Mom had been trying, fruitlessly, for weeks to get me excited for some stupid summer camp. After a rather brutal grounding for skipping class, I caved into this summer camp idea in an effort to get her off my back for awhile. Well, now 'awhile' had passed, and before I knew it, the summer had crept up on me.

My little brother let out a hushed yawn. He was resting his head on the window pane, groggily shifting his weight beside me. He had no idea how good he got it. Why did I have to do this stupid camp? My brother is the right age for it, not me. I should be out with my friends, not singing lame campfire songs and rolling around in the mud. Still, it was my father's idea. He had been a boy scout or some shit. He read some fuckhead article about how technology was corrupting the youth, and in a panic, convinced my otherwise mellow mom to sign me up. I guess the idea of having a son who had no outdoor ambition frightened him. Whatever. It's not like anyone in this family does anything besides sit on their phones and gasp at clickbait Facebook articles. Yet, it was I, the forsaken slacker who must be punished for our family's crimes.

"You know, this was your father's idea, yet where's he? Not here, I'll tell you that much. He should be the one driving you all this way, not me." My mother sounded a little frustrated. I suppose an hour on the road will do that to you.

"Look, Mom, I know you're trying to cheer me up, but we don't have to talk the entire way." I didn't mean to hiss, but I continued. "I just want to get this over with, come back home, and rot in my room in peace. Okay?" She glanced in the rear-view, and scratched tentatively at the side of her neck.

"I know, it's just-" Her eyes darted around, trying to formulate her words. "I just want this to be a good experience for you. I know it will be. Your father spent a lot of money on this, and I wanted him to be here to tell you all the reasons why summer camp is so much fun. Besides, I still have to drive back, and you know how I get driving in the dark."

I scoffed. "What, you don't have the reasons?"

"Henry, I never had this kind of opportunity when I was a girl."

"But you would've hated it, right?"

She hesitated for a moment. "I would've at least liked the chance to try it."

I rolled my eyes, resting my head back against the window. Awesome. Everyone loves a hypocrite, Mom. We took one camping trip when I was seven, and she spent the entirety of it whining and bitching about getting mauled by mosquitos. She would've loathed summer camp, and we both knew it.

"Oh! I see it! Look, there!" Mom's finger pointed towards some tall object towering over the trees. Sure enough, there was the sign for my new gulag. Its words were barely visible, thanks to a combination of depreciation and the low visibility of the dusk. I squinted my eyes to focus in: "Camp Little Creek". The second 'L' was coming loose off of a nail, which made my heart pound. Please don't tell me my dad picked the cheapest, grimiest, and most tetanus filled claptrap he could've possible scouted out for.

My mother's excitement stirred my brother from his sleep, who rubbed his eyes, looking confusingly around. I felt the tug of our car, as we turned off North Fork Highway and unto the shittiest gravel road I've ever seen. No joke, we must have hit a pothole every two seconds. I tucked my tongue in to avoid accidentally chewing it off. I braced for impact as we continued down this path for what felt like eternity. I shut my eyes and prayed for this bad dream to end. Let me wake up. Let me awake in my own bed.

My prayers went unanswered, and I heard my little brother's voice.

"Whoa."

I dropped my shoulders. If he survived that trip, then so did I.

Opening my eyes, I found us nestled at the bottom of a hill. At the top of the hill stood three enormous buildings. The one on the left was rustic, with large wooden pillars holding up two floors. The sides were paneled roughly with wood, and dim lights highlighted every window, door, and bench that scattered the exterior. The building on the very right, directly across from the first building was completely identical. Sure enough, wood pillars, wood paneling, two floors, double sided. However, the true winner was the enormous central building. Two floors, but twice as wide as the surrounding buildings. A porch hugged the center, with a balcony leering over top. Giant windows, double-doors, and a green tin roof adorned this middle structure. Once again, "Camp Little Creek" was written out in wooden letters affixed to the balcony railing. "Mess Hell" was all that was left of what seemed to be a very old sign barely clinging unto the porch, which shocked me as to how it was visible from this far.

"Well, would you look at that!" Mom erupted.

To be fair, even I was a little impressed. Despite the general feeling of a rundown establishment, this camp felt very cozy. Nestled on this quaint hill, surrounded by pine trees, the backdrop of the clouded sky ... and the smell. I could just barely smell it. I rolled down my window. Sure enough, the overwhelming fumes of fresh air blasted my nose. I forgot what this had smelled like. Fresh pines, sprouting grass, and the fresh rain sent me into some weird euphoria. The window blew into our car, breezing through my brown curls.

"Okay, Henry, I know you're excited, but you have to wait until we park before we jump out of the car." Chortled my mom, sarcastically referring to my window dropping endeavors.

"Can I come to camp this week?" Asked my brother.

"No, sorry honey, you're a little too young. This one is just for Henry's age group. Maybe if you ask him nicely, dad can sign you up next year."

I was quickly pulled out of this conversation by a sound that made my blood pressure rise. It was a sound that made me anxious the louder and louder it got. The kind of sound that helps you remember a forgotten aspect of a current situation.

I heard voices.

My heart dropped as I made eye contact with the other campers. Sure enough -- young boys and girls my age were stumbling out the car, grabbing their backpacks, and confidently walking up the hill towards the mess hall. It had slipped my mind completely that I'd be meeting new people my age. When I envisioned them, I saw a bunch of backpacking freaks. Now that they were in front of me, I realized how wrong I was. Sure, the freaks were here. However, I saw jocks, nerds, rebels, losers, and general archetypes who just didn't fit any label. Normal people. A sample of a population. Wyoming's finest. What if they didn't like me? I love my friends back home, but I've known them since forever. I'm used to them. These people are all strangers. I'll be the first to admit it -- The art of conversation is simply lost on me.

"Alright, here's the plan, kiddo. From here on out, you are in charge of your backpack. You packed it with that packing list dad gave you, right?"

"I- Yeah. I couldn't find any sunscreen, though."

"That's fine, I'm sure your bunkmates won't mind sharing. Now, your brother and I will walk you to the check-in. We'll figure out what cabin you're in, we'll say 'Hello' to your counsellor, then we're off. Sound good?"

I felt a lump in my throat. My bunkmates. I haven't had to share a bedroom since our old house, and even then, it was with my toddler brother.

"O-okay." I was shaken by all this. Completely caught off guard.

We stumbled out the car and made our way up. The rain had been slowly picking up throughout our drive, as we had been driving away from the clouds. But with nowhere to run, the clouds were finally gaining ground on us. I could feel the cold droplets hit my shoulders, dampening my grey shirt. My bag was surprisingly light, and I honestly didn't mind wearing it as we approached the queue.

"Fuck, my shirt." Mom clearly hated getting wet.

"Dollar for the swear jar." Retorted my brother. What a whimp. We didn't even have a swear jar.

After some time of shivering in the now pouring rain, our family made their way to the front. Two weird looking counsellors, a boy and a girl, who must have been at least in their late 20's called me over.

"Hey there! Welcome! Who we checking in today?" asked the man.

"Henry Roscoe." I replied, ducking unto the porch.

"Roscoe, Roscoe, Roscoe..." the man muttered to himself, scanning his list of names and cabins.

"Ah, gotcha right here." Enthused the woman, crossing off my name. "You will be in Stoney cabin. It's in the big building to the right, top left, in the back. Your counsellor's name is Luke."

"What, no fun camp names?" Jokingly asked my mother, who was completely drenched with the rest of us.

"Well, it's still only Sunday!" Laughed the woman.

After some waiver signing, annoying jokes, and a ton of running, I finally hustled my way to my cabin, eager to escape the torrential downpour. My family quickly raced behind me, shouting at me to slow down. Fat chance.

A wooden sign with the name "Stoney" burnt into it greeted me at the top of the stairs around back. I burst through the accompanying door, staggering inside.

"Welcome! Are you Cody?" asked the man inside. I was still catching my breathe.

"Yeah. I mean, no. That's not me." I was barely thinking about anything besides how wet I had become.

"Well, then that makes you ... Henry. Yeah?" The man repeated.

Wiping the rainwater from my face, I was finally able to look around. The walls were a deep blue, and the hardwood floor was muddy at the entrance, with everyone's shoes and boots scattered around. It was smaller than I expected. Four wooden bunk beds littered the room, each with a plastic blue mattress. Small little cubbies adorned a wall, with some cubbies already claimed. A door hugged the side of the wall, leading to a private room, which I could only assume was my counsellor's room. The light hummed above us, indicating just how shoddy the wiring must be here. Honestly, it was kind of a shithole.

"Yes, Henry. Yes, that's me." I answered.

The man nodded. He was some mid-twenty's with a shark-tooth necklace. His hair was short and neat, and he had one of the warmest grins I've ever seen. My image of a camp counsellor had always been some obnoxious happy-go-lucky bozo itching to swing his arms and play guitar. However, this guy actually seemed kind of soft-spoken. He was seated at the floor, a list in his hands.

I placed my stuff on one of the cubbies. The water had really weighted down my pack. My clothes were undoubtedly soaked. My entrance was only enhanced by my soaked family climbing through the doorframe.

"Ugh. Hello. Yes, I'm Henry's mother." My mother brushed her dripping hair from her face.

"Luke. I'm Henry's counsellor this week. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Tuning out these pleasantries, I started unpacking. I picked a bottom bunk, mainly because the one above it was still unpicked, and there was a chance this 'Cody' loser wouldn't show up. Unrolling my sleeping bag, I stretched it as wide as it would go, attempting to survey the damage. Thankfully, the bag had protected the majority of it. I started browsing through the rest of my bag, confirming my suspicion of wet clothes. I swore silently to myself, much to the delight of some dweeb within earshot.

"Well, you all set?" Approached my mother.

"All my clothes are wet, and I forgot a pillow."

"Oh, I'm sure they have a dryer you can use. For the pillow, just roll up a hoodie or something." I sulked at this tawdry response. "Oh, come here. You're gonna be okay." My mother pulled me in for a hug, kissing my forehead. "Give it a chance. You might really like it."

My brother interrupted this short-lived moment by announcing his desire to pee.

"Oh, the bathroom building for the boys is just behind this building. It's that small wooden shack thing." Announced Luke, gently pointing to a dim light through the dark window.

"Okay, thank you, Luke. I'll see you Saturday morning. You too, Henry. Be good." My mom waved as she spoke, scurrying my brother out the door.

With a solemn wave, I mentally unpacked that I was here. Luke tried chatting with us, playing some icebreakers, but I just wanted to reflect on the edge of my bed for a second, which he kindly let me do after I shot him a couple shrugs. My cabinmates were dorks. This camp, as cute as it was, was a DIY project gone wrong. My counsellor seemed nice, but why get let down by him, too?

Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by the door swinging open. Another boy had made his way in. He was tall, but obscured by his heavy raincoat and bag.

"...And that makes eight. Cody, right?" Asked Luke.

"Yes, sir." Politely responded the boy.

The boy seemed to be alone. No parents to drop him off? He dropped his bag unto a cubbie, and unbuttoned his hood, taking off his olive-green coat.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

This man had to be one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. Tussled sandy blonde hair. Deep green eyes. A jawline that could double as a letter opener. Sure, he had scattered acne, but fuck it, we all did. Little freckles beamed from his cheeks, challenging the dim lighting of the room. He outstretched his hand to Luke, he warmly shook it back. I glanced around to see if anyone else was as blown away by this Adonis of a man as I was, but nobody seemed to care. What the fuck? I know we're jerking off to chicks, gentlemen, but can we not admire a specimen of man when we see one?

I realized I was ogling at this boy trying to strip down from his rain gear for way too long, and pried my eyes away, which took every ounce of willpower I had. Fuck. Can I not even be the hot guy in my own cabin? Fuckin' ridiculous.

I felt the bed shake, and realized that Cody had chosen the last empty bed in the room: The top bunk above mine. Of course. Out of all the shitty summer camp bunk beds in Wyoming, he just had to pick mine.

With a clap of his hands, Luke gathered us all around to the floor. We went over rules. Expectations. Boring shit we've all heard before. Respect each other. Don't touch the fragile black pipes that ran through across the ceiling. Listen to Luke. I just kept glancing at Cody, who was cluelessly looking around at our claustrophobic cabin. He even looked pretty just looking at stuff. God help us all.

Finally, Luke rolled out our schedule. Sunday was all introductions, with a big camp meeting in the mess hall. Monday and Tuesday were both activity and game days. Wednesday we went to this 'Little Creek' I had heard so much about. Thursday we go on an out-trip, which consisted of backpacking into the woods and spending the night there. Not looking forward to that. Finally, we get back to camp on Friday for our last day of activities and reflections. Saturday morning, we do a camp-wide clean and leave. Saturday will be by far my favorite day. Our daily schedule consisted of three meals a day, a 'Quiet Time' period after Lunch where we sit in our bunks and leave our counsellors the fuck alone, and a nightly campfire. Marshmallows, anyone?

A bell rang in the distance, which Luke informed us always meant 'something was happening'. I didn't even bother changing out of my wet clothes, as we hauled ass into the mess hall.

The mess hall felt like a military mess hall. One giant open room, tables and benches with cabin names indicating who goes where. Hot chocolate and graham crackers awaited us. Oh, boy. I found a seat, calling first dibs on the seat furthest away from Luke. Nothing personal, but how else can I be a shithead and get away with it? As our cabinmates filed in, a familiar face found his place beside me. Fuck off.

Cody's big gorgeous smile turned to address me.

"Hi." He proudly said.

"Hey." I responded; my eyes fixated on his button nose. What the hell? 'Button nose'? I have dated three chicks, kissed several more, hell, even lost my virginity to a girl. So, what business do I have describing this boy's nose as a 'button'?

"First time here?" He inquired, snapping me out of my vocabulary confusion.

"Yeah, my parents made me sign up. I really don't want to be here, man." My honest answer wasn't met with the scowl I expected, but an understanding nod.

"Yeah, that's fair. It's my first time, too. By choice, though."

"'By choice'? You actually chose to do this? Why?" I was genuinely confused.

"I dunno. Seemed fun. I like the outdoors. Trying new things. Meeting the new friends." He nodded towards me at the suggestion of friends. This confession actually made me feel a little guilty.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shit on something you are clearly interested in." I apologized.

"No, no, it's all good. My mom makes me do dumb stuff all the time. I'm Cody, by the way." Cody extended his hand to meet mine. He had a firm grip, which took my limp grip off guard.

"Henry."

We continued to chat, laughing about the graham crackers falling apart in our hot chocolate, reminiscing on the heavy rain, and playing dumb games where we make backstories about the people around us. I shared quick glances with Luke, who seemed pleased that I was finally opening up enough to settle in. Honestly, I was, too.

After some time, the old director came up and explained the Camp rules. All the classics, once again. Don't be a shithead. Shithead's get kicked out. No bullying. No electronics. No romantic or sexual contact with other campers. That last one set off a quiet snicker around the hall. All I could think about was how awesome it was to make such a cool friend. Fuck, his cologne smelled so good. Hopefully he wouldn't mind telling me the brand. Or hell, even sharing some with me. No doubt about it; Cody and I would be picking up these desperate, lonely, girls in no time. All around us were girls ranging from weird to kind of pretty, all with their respective cabins, just waiting for men like us to sweep them off their feet. Just the two of us. Me, with the way I can make a girl soften up over my mild-mannered approach. Cody, with the way he swipes the hair out of his eyes, with the tips of his hair gently resting on his shirt's collar.

Henry, what the actual fuck?

Campfire that night was cancelled due to the rain, which was no sweat off my brow. After a camp-wide scramble back to the cabins, we finally got a well-deserved chance to dry-off. Burrowing into my bag, a wave of panic set over me as I realized my pajama pants were still drenched. As a cabin, we made the solution to hang up our clothes all over the cabin. As I begun spreading out my clothes on the floor, the lights suddenly went out, and a warm sensation wrapped around the back of my head. Was this it? Was I dead?

"Shit, sorry, Henry. My shirt fell off the rail. That raincoat saved my ass, but my bag met a different fate. My clothes are dripping wet."

Cody's shirt. Cody's wet shirt. On me. On my head. Around my face. Just be cool. Yeah.

I peeled it off, with a shit-eating grin taking over my face.