You need to trust me, Lowell, he thought. I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.
Lowell stirred, as if he’d sensed Brent’s thoughts or felt him staring.
“Hey,” Brent said quietly.
Lowell blinked at him. “Hey.” His voice sounded raspy. “What time is it? I didn’t hear my alarm go off.”
Brent looked over at the clock. “Seven forty-seven. P.M. You didn’t sleep all night. We’ve only been out for a couple of hours.”
“Ugh.” Lowell buried his head in the crook of Brent’s arm. He seemed softer and more relaxed than Brent had ever seen him. Brent risked it and pulled Lowell a little closer.
“You can go back to sleep if you want.”
“Nah, I should get up, or I’ll be awake at three in the morning and not be able to fall back to sleep.” Lowell flipped on his side and reached to turn on the light between the beds.
“Jesus.” Brent squinted at the sudden onslaught of brightness. “You could warn a guy.”
“Whoops. Sorry.”
Lowell stood and crossed the room. Brent rested against the headboard and watched Lowell move around the room naked, picking up and folding their clothes.
“Do you want your phone?” he asked when it slid out of Brent’s jean’s pocket onto the bed.
“Please.”
Lowell tossed it in a beautifully curving arc, and Brent caught it easily.
“It’s a shame you couldn’t play baseball,” Brent said. “You would have been damn good.”
Lowell just shot him a small smile and walked over, carrying his own phone. “So, what do you want to do now?”
Brent’s rumbling stomach answered for him. “I want dinner.”
“Do you want to go out?”
“Is it totally lazy if I say I don’t want to put pants on?”
“No, but it does narrow down our options.” Lowell gave him a cheeky grin. “Let’s see what there is for delivery around here.”
An hour or so later, they sat cross-legged on the bed in their underwear. The ones they’d bought at Pride the other day because the rest were still at the laundromat, waiting to be picked up in the morning. Brent was working on an enormous beef and bean burrito while Lowell delicately nibbled on some chicken tacos.
“So, you never did finish answering my questions.”
“About what?” Lowell asked. He wiped his fingers on a napkin and gave Brent a quizzical look.
“Your wrestling career. First of all, where were you Jell-O wrestling? Who were you doing it with? No, wait, let’s start with the why.”
“Drama club party,” Lowell explained like that was supposed to explain everything. Actually, based on some of the stories Brent had heard about the kids in the theater program, maybe it did. But he wanted details.
“Seriously, start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
“Okay. So, after finals week during my freshman year of college, I went and stayed with Caleb. His mom loved me, and my parents were being annoying as usual, so I just hung out with him in his hometown. One of his friends from drama club was graduating from high school, and I went with Caleb to her graduation party. There was Jell-O wrestling there.”
“Huh. Like ... kiddie pools of it?” Brent took another bite of burrito.
“Sort of. They put down a big tarp and made giant plastic tubs full of it. I think someone’s dad owned a restaurant supply store or something.”
“Cool. Was it fun?”
Lowell grinned. “So fun.”
“Did you win?”
“Pffft. Of course, I did. I’m stronger than I look.”
Brent grinned back. “Awesome.”
“The cherry flavor stained though. Mrs. Stockwell—Caleb’s mom—thought it was hilarious. She was so cool about it. She kept teasing us about it, but she figured out something we could use to get it off our skin. We had to toss the clothes, but that was no big loss.”
“That is cool. My mom probably would have rolled her eyes, but she totally would have done the same.” Brent set the remainder of his burrito down. He was pretty sure if he ate any more, he’d explode.
“Yeah, not so much my parents,” Lowell said with a frown.
“I know.” Brent wrapped up his leftovers to put in the fridge. Maybe he’d have them for breakfast tomorrow. “That sucks.”
Lowell sighed. “It’s ... whatever.”
“Maybe on the final leg of the trip we can stop at my house, and you can meet my family.” Brent froze when he realized what he’d said. Shit. Too far? “I mean, they’ve met Nathan and a bunch of my friends. It’ll be a little crazy with all of my siblings, but if you can stand the chaos, it could be fun. My mom’s a great cook. Although, I’m not sure how many veggie dishes she makes,” he admitted, realizing he was rambling but unable to stop. “We’re all kind of meat eaters and—”
“Hey, it’s fine.” Lowell leaned forward and kissed him. “We’ll figure it out when we get there, okay? Besides, there’s always chicken.”
“Yeah, okay,” Brent agreed. He felt relieved that Lowell hadn’t freaked out at the thought of meeting his parents and siblings. He hadn’t meant it in a “meet the family” sort of way, and the last thing he wanted was to make Lowell think he was asking for more than he could handle.
Chapter Eighteen
June 8, 2013 – Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Lowell
Lowell awoke to Brent running his hands all over his body. “Why are you awake so early?” he muttered. “You’re the one who usually gives me death glares for being awake before you.”
“I woke up and I couldn’t fall back to sleep.” Brent traced his fingertips up and down Lowell’s spine, making him shiver.
“Want me to wear you out again?” Lowell asked.
“What’d you have in mind?”
Rather than speak, Lowell reached for the lube on the nightstand, slithered under the covers, and settled between Brent’s legs. Brent’s breathing hitched when Lowell engulfed most of his rapidly-hardening cock in his mouth.
“Mmm,” Brent murmured when Lowell began to move. Lowell pressed a slippery thumb against his hole until it slipped inside. “Fuck.”
Lowell sucked him hard and messily for a while, teasing his hole until Brent was breathing rapidly and thrusting into Lowell’s mouth.
Brent threw back the covers and took Lowell’s head in his hands, but he didn’t fuck Lowell’s face like he expected, just caressed his hair. “Fuck, Lowell ... I ...”
The angle was wrong for Lowell to deep-throat Brent, but he took him as far as he could and tugged at his balls. Brent came with a strangled shout, shuddering against Lowell and panting as he spurted down Lowell’s throat. After, Lowell licked him clean and slowly released him. Brent lay back, panting, his eyes closed. Lowell slipped into the crook of his arm and nestled a little closer.
“Now, go to sleep.”
Brent chuckled, but he was out almost immediately.
Lowell dozed for another hour or so, but he got up before his alarm and did some yoga and Pilates. He felt surprisingly calm. He kept waiting for the freak out to hit. For the panic to take over and urge him to run as far and as fast as possible, but it never came. He flowed through a sun salutation, then glanced over at the bed where Brent was sleeping.
What has changed? And why? He wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten here or what it all meant, but this felt good. And it felt right, and for once, he didn’t want to pick it apart and worry about what would happen next.
Brent opened his eyes, and his gaze immediately landed on Lowell, his face lighting up in a smile. He sat up and looked Lowell over, grinning. “Now, this is what I’m used to when I wake up. Although I like the change in outfit.”
Lowell flashed him a grin as he did a little shimmy in the striped briefs. “I thought you would.”
June 8, 2013 - Door Peninsula, Wisconsin
Lowell
Brent sang along to some playlist he’d made for the trip as they sped along I-43. Riding
shotgun, Lowell was technically supposed to be in charge of the music, but he hadn’t argued when Brent had asked to put it on.
They’d left Milwaukee after picking up their laundry and some food and supplies for camping. Now, they were driving toward the tip of Door Peninsula. They’d just passed the outskirts of the city of Green Bay and should reach the state park in the next hour.
According to Brent, there were tons of state parks and camping areas along Lake Michigan and Green Bay, but Peninsula State Park was supposed to be the nicest.
“So, I know we’re hiking there,” Lowell said. “What else? You showed me on the spreadsheet but I don’t remember.”
“Well, there’s a ten-mile bike trail that’s supposed to be really cool. Swimming, of course. Lighthouse tours. Boating, canoeing, and kayaking. There’s beach volleyball and golf in the area too.” Brent paused. “Oh, and some outdoor theater thing, but I think it might not start for another couple of weeks.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I like theater.”
“This is all going to be pretty rustic, outdoorsy activities from here on out.” Brent sounded a little apologetic. “At least, until we’re back in the Lower Peninsula of Michigan, and we can hit Traverse City and Petoskey.”
“No, it’s cool.” Lowell stretched. “It’ll be good to do something different.”
Their elbows bumped on the armrest between them, and neither of them moved away. There’d been a strange undercurrent humming in the background ever since that moment two days ago when Lowell was putting makeup on Brent.
Lowell glanced over at him. He was dressed down in a gray T-shirt and olive green cargo shorts. Back to his usual Midwestern, straight boy look, except for the freshly cut and styled hair. But he looked good. Relaxed and confident and happy. And, for some reason, him being happy mattered to Lowell.
It was why he’d let Brent play whatever music he wanted and why he was so determined to psych himself up for whatever this camping and hiking vacation was going to entail. He didn’t want to drag down the mood between them. It was too good to spoil.
“What are we listening to?” Lowell asked.
“Greensky Bluegrass. They’re a band from the Kalamazoo area. Nathan and I went to one of their shows, and they’re great live.”
“And they’re country?”
“More bluegrass and rock. Why? Do you hate it?”
“No, I don’t mind,” Lowell said. “Country isn’t my thing, but this isn’t bad.”
“I like it.” Brent shot him a grin. “You know, I wonder if there are any bands we both actually like?”
“Well, we’ve got another month and a half to find out,” Lowell said. He wasn’t holding his breath, however.
***
People at the campsites they passed stared as they crept along at a snail’s pace. Lowell tried to hide his wince every time the car dipped. The Panamera’s ground clearance of just over 5 inches didn’t leave much room for error. Brent had already apologized for suggesting they take his car on a camping trip. Lowell had tried to convince him it was his own fault for not realizing what the trip entailed. In the end, they’d agreed it was a wildly impractical car for what they were about to do, but since it was the only method of transportation they had at the moment, they would have to hope for the best. Lowell was fairly certain he’d have to take the car in for some work at the end of the summer, but there was no point in worrying about that now. Besides, his car had made it through several years of driving on Michigan roads littered with potholes. If it could survive that, it could survive anything.
Brent eased off the main drive and into a campsite where he slowed to a stop.
Lowell looked around as he parked the car. “Oh, wow. We’re staying here?”
Brent shot him a wary glance as he took the key out of the ignition. “Yeah. Site 644. Why?”
“It’s gorgeous.” The campsite was tucked into the trees, and Lowell could see the water through them. “Is that the bay?”
“Nicolet Bay, yes. It’s a small bay within the larger Green Bay. I’ll show you on the site map later.”
“Okay.”
“You’re cool with this then?”
Lowell stared at him. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just checking.” Brent reached for the door handle. “Come on. We need to get everything set up, and that’ll take a while. It’s hours until sunset, but trust me, you never want to set up a tent in the dark. It’s a pain in the ass.”
The air smelled fresh when Lowell opened the car door and stepped out. The campsite was grassy, with a small gravel section to drive on, and a picnic table and metal ring that Lowell assumed was for a campfire.
“Just tell me what to do,” Lowell said as Brent popped the trunk open.
“That’ll be a weird change of pace for you,” Brent said with a grin. “Not being the one in charge, I mean.”
Lowell stuck out his tongue.
Brent pulled a number of things out of the trunk and laid them on the ground. He pointed to a long, narrow, green nylon bag. “Grab that please.”
Lowell did, and Brent picked up a tarp. He walked away from the car toward a little clearing under the trees. “So, you want to find an area that’s flat and high. You don’t want to have all of the water run down toward your tent. Under the trees isn’t always great, but it should be fine for us here.”
“Okay,” Lowell said.
“Then you’re going to want to clear away anything that could rip the tent or be really uncomfortable to sleep on.”
Lowell helped him clear some debris, then waited for the next set of instructions.
“Unpack all of the tent parts.” Brent pulled everything out and laid it in neat piles. “Lay down your tarp next. It’ll keep moisture away and take off the chill of the ground.” He stood and shook it out.
Lowell helped him settle it on the ground. “Then lay out the tent on top. If we have the door face that way”—Brent pointed toward the water—“we’ll see the sunrise.”
“Now, stake down the corners. If we do opposite ones, it’ll be easier to pull it taut between us.” Brent jabbed a metal stake into the ground. “Get it as deep as you can.”
Lowell snickered, and Brent shot him a look. “Really, Lowell?”
Lowell tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn’t quite manage it.
“Now the other two.” Brent stood. “We have to put together the tent pole sections now.”
“Got it?” Brent asked when he finished. Lowell nodded and did one of his own. “Now slide the tent poles through the sleeves on the outside of the tent and secure the ends. Once that’s done, attach the body of the tent to the poles using the clips here.”
Brent was faster than Lowell was, and he helped him finish the last section. When they were done, he held up another piece of nylon. “This is the rain fly. We need to secure it over the top using the ties here.”
When they were done, Brent stepped back and surveyed the tent with a satisfied expression. “See? Not so bad.”
“Nope,” Lowell agreed.
“Another time or two and you’ll be a pro at it. We’ll be able to get it up in less than ten minutes.”
Lowell opened his mouth, and Brent pointed a finger at him. “I don’t want to hear it.”
Lowell giggled. “Come on. You’re totally asking for it with comments like that, sweets.”
“If you don’t behave, I won’t tell you how to set up a bag for our food to keep the bears away.”
Lowell’s eyes widened. “Bears?” Damn it, his voice came out way squeakier than he intended.
Brent paused. “There are definitely black bears in Wisconsin. Here in the state parks, even. All food has to be locked up at night and while we’re out hiking.”
“We can’t just keep it in the car?”
“They have an incredible sense of smell. Do you want a bear taking a swipe at your Porsche to get at it?”
“Uh, no,” Lowell said. This camping thing was starting to sound way
more serious by the minute. Holy shit, he was not prepared.
Brent’s expression softened. “It’ll be fine. You just need to learn the basics. There are tons of other animals that are way less scary that we’re much more likely to encounter, like mice and raccoons. It’s just basic camping practice to be sure your food and anything with a scent is secured. Even your toiletries and makeup.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I have you around, huh?” Lowell said.
Brent smiled. “Hey, I’d never been on public transit except for the campus buses before we hit Chicago. We’re just learning from each other on this trip, right? Now, come on, there’s lots to do before the day is over.”
June 8, 2013 – Door Peninsula, Wisconsin
Brent
“I didn’t think I was going to like camping,” Lowell said sleepily. He sat sideways and dangled his legs over the arm of the foldable stadium chair, staring at the flickering flames. His expression was content.
“What’s not to like?” Brent stretched his legs toward the bonfire. “Fire. Beer. Marshmallows.” He waved the stick around. “This is heaven.”
“Spoken like a true Midwestern man.”
“Are you complaining?”
“No.” Lowell’s grin was slow and relaxed. “I’m kind of digging it myself.”
“Ha! I knew I’d win you over.”
“Mmm.”
Brent stuck another marshmallow on the stick and held it near the fire. He should have waited until it burned down to coals—that was the best way to roast them—but he was too impatient. And Lowell seemed to be enjoying the fire. He rotated the stick, keeping an eye on the marshmallow as it began to puff up and brown. He’d already had one go up in flames.
Brent smeared the sticky candy on the chocolate and sandwiched it with a second graham cracker. “Want another one?” He offered it to Lowell.
He groaned. “I shouldn’t.”
“I didn’t ask if you should. I asked if you wanted one.”
Push & Pull (The Midwest Series Book 2) Page 20