Push & Pull (The Midwest Series Book 2)

by Brigham Vaughn

  “Sure.”

  Lowell paused mid-stir when it occurred to him how domestic and cozy this little scene was. He’d spent the night in Brent’s arms, and he was fixing his coffee. While wearing his sweatshirt for fuck’s sake. It smacked of relationship. And yet, despite the weird little lurch in his stomach, he was nowhere near as repelled by the idea as he had been in the past. Weird. He’d have to think on that one for a bit.

  He handed the mug to Brent without a word and watched him deftly whisk eggs with a fork and pour them into a pan with butter sizzling in it. At least, this seemed more balanced than the fucked-up shit he’d had with Micah. Brent did as much for Lowell—if not more—than Lowell did for him. And Brent seemed patient with him. Not teasing him about being a complete novice at everything camping-related. Well, maybe there had been a little teasing. But he wasn’t mean about it. Brent seemed like he enjoyed teaching Lowell what to do rather than making him feel bad for what he didn’t already know.

  “You’re good at this,” Lowell blurted out.

  “Camp cooking? Yeah, years of Boy Scouts will do that. Plus, my parents used to take us all the time.”

  Lowell had meant more than the cooking, but he wasn’t sure how to articulate it at the moment.

  “You can pull those sausages out of the pan. It looks like the eggs will be ready any sec,” Brent instructed.

  It didn’t take long at all for breakfast to be done, and in no time, Lowell was seated at the picnic table, shoveling food into his mouth. He would swear it was the best meal he’d ever eaten. “I don’t know what it is, but I’m starving.”

  “Fresh air will do that. Imagine what it’ll be like after we’ve hiked six or eight miles.”

  “Are you sure we got enough food?” Lowell glanced toward the cooler, concerned.

  Brent laughed. “We can go back to the store if we need to. We’re not that far from civilization.”

  “It is nice and peaceful here though,” Lowell admitted. “I mean it feels like we are away from civilization even though there are people around.”

  “That’s the whole idea.” Brent smiled at him. “I think you’re starting to get the hang of this camping thing.”

  ***

  Washing dishes in a stockpot proved interesting, but Lowell managed to accomplish it with minimal disaster. When the food and gear were all safely stowed away, Brent instructed him on what to wear for their hike. Lowell was beginning to feel apprehensive again as he smeared on sunscreen.

  “Don’t forget the bug spray.” Brent sprayed a hazy cloud of foul-smelling stuff in Lowell’s direction, thoroughly coating his body.

  Lowell coughed and waved it away from his face. “Ugh. Gross. I think you just poisoned me. If I get cancer in twenty years, I’m hunting you down.”

  “Well, you weren’t supposed to breathe it in!” Brent set the can down on the picnic table. “I know it’s not great, and I’m not crazy about coating myself in toxic chemicals either. But, sometimes, it’s necessary. Trust me; ticks are everywhere here, and Lyme disease is nothing to mess with. It’s all about balancing the short-term and long-term risks. Yeah, too much exposure could kill you eventually. But Lyme disease can too.”

  “Got it, Park Ranger Brent!”

  “Fuck off,” Brent said playfully. “You were the one who lectured me about skin cancer, remember? I’m just looking out for you.”

  Lowell’s stomach lurched oddly. People were always trying to change him, but other than Caleb, no one had really ever looked out for him that way. His parents’ love had always come with conditions. “Thanks.”

  They filled water pouches and stuffed their backpacks with food for lunch. Brent threw in a few extra things like a first aid kit and a utility knife that Lowell really hoped they wouldn’t have to use. Lowell double-checked that the car was locked, tucked the keys into a zippered pouch on Brent’s backpack, and then they were off.

  There were maps at the trailhead, and Brent showed him how to read one, pointing out the trail markers.

  “I mean, we’re not going to get separated, are we?” Lowell tried to hide the nervousness in his voice.

  “I certainly don’t intend to,” Brent said with a smile. “But I figured it couldn’t hurt to make sure you knew where you were going. Just in case.”

  “Got it.” Lowell shifted the backpack on his back. It wasn’t bugging him, but the weight was unfamiliar. It had been years since he’d used anything but a cross-body messenger bag.

  “Ready to go?” Brent asked. He adjusted his tattered white WMU baseball cap.

  Lowell straightened his Cubs hat. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The paths were only wide enough to walk single file, and Lowell let Brent take the lead. Evergreen needles carpeted the ground in this section of the forest, and the air smelled of pine with every step he took.

  “Oh, my God. It smells so fresh.”

  “Have you really never spent any time in the woods?” Brent sounded amused.

  “No. Not really.”

  “You weren’t in Boy Scouts or anything? Even for a little while?”

  “Do you really think my mom would have let me as over protective as she is?”

  “Yeah, fair point.” Brent threw a speculative look over his shoulder. “No summer camp?”

  “I did art and music camp.”

  “Of course, you did.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Brent stopped and turned to look at him. “Nothing. I’m just saying it doesn’t surprise me. It’s not a bad thing. It just totally fits.”

  “Hmm.” Lowell made a skeptical noise. “Come on. We’ve got a lot more hiking to do today.”

  “Do you want to take the lead?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  About a mile into the hike, Lowell began to appreciate what all of the fuss was with hiking. It was so quiet and peaceful. He’d never smelled air so fresh before, and the wooded area the trail meandered through was filled with lush greenery. The short hikes they’d done outside of Milwaukee had been nice, but this was so much more remote. They’d only seen two other people on the trails so far, and the women had split off in a totally different direction.

  When they reached the top of a hill, Lowell realized it was a bluff overlooking the bay. Through the sparse trees, it was sparkling blue water as far as the eyes could see.

  “Holy fuck, this is gorgeous.” Lowell stopped in his tracks, and Brent slowed to a stop ahead of him.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I’m finally starting to understand this camping and hiking thing.”

  “Told you.”

  “I draw the line at hunting though.”

  “That’s okay,”’ Brent said with a chuckle. “It’s not for everyone. Hell, I don’t enjoy it either.”

  “You shoot?” Lowell felt mildly alarmed as he hurried to catch up with Brent. “Like a gun?”

  “I’ve shot a rifle for target practice, yeah. My dad and I used to go hunting, and he taught me to use a bow and arrow. I sobbed when I killed a deer the first time, and I’ve never had the heart to do it since. Some of the guys I grew up with gave me so much shit about it. But I could never see the point.” Brent shrugged. “We made sure we used as much of the meat as possible so we didn’t just do it for a trophy or anything, but it’s not like we actually needed it. I mean, my family’s not rich, but we’ve never gone hungry. I know hunting helps keep the deer population from growing out of control, but that doesn’t mean I need to be the one to do it. I do enjoy target practice though.” Brent started walking again.

  Lowell pondered the idea. “I guess the bow and arrow seems ... more fair than the gun at least.”

  “To the deer?”

  “Well, yeah. It seems like it takes more practice and skill to use a bow and arrow.”

  “I think some avid rifle shooters would take issue with that, but I definitely get a lot more enjoyment out of the bow than the gun for target practice.”

  Lowell shrugged
. “I think it’s because you don’t have a small dick to compensate for.”

  June 9, 2013 – Door Peninsula, Wisconsin

  Brent

  They stopped for lunch about four miles into the hike. With a groan, Lowell dropped his pack onto the large flat rock overlooking the water. “I hope you don’t plan to move for at least an hour. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

  Brent checked his watch, pleased to see they were a little ahead of schedule. “We’re making great time. We can definitely stop for an hour.”

  Lowell settled beside the backpack and leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. He tilted his head toward the sun. Brent couldn’t see behind his sunglasses, but he suspected Lowell had his eyes closed.

  “Good. I was afraid I’d slow you down.”

  Brent scoffed as he took a seat next to him. “You’re in great shape, Lowell. You may be new to this but you’re not slowing me down at all.”

  He unzipped his pack and spread out the food. He’d loaded his backpack with twice as much as Lowell carried—it would take him a little while to get accustomed to the pack.

  “You hungry?”

  Lowell lifted his head. “Starved.”

  They devoured the food in no time flat, and when the trash was packed up, Brent shifted so he lay down with his head on his now much emptier backpack.

  “You can use my lap for a pillow,” Lowell said. “Just let me grab my phone out of my pocket first.”

  Surprised, Brent sat up and shifted so his head rested on Lowell’s thigh. Lowell rested his hand on Brent’s chest, absently stroking with his thumb as he looked out over the water. Brent didn’t quite know what to make of the new, cuddly version of Lowell. He liked it, but he definitely wasn’t used to it. Maybe Lowell was making up for lost time.

  “This is all so gorgeous.” Lowell fiddled with his phone for a minute and held it up, presumably taking a few photos of the landscape. “Damn it. I’ll have to wait to post them until we get back to camp. There’s no signal here.”

  “Oh, that reminds me. I got an email back from your dad this morning,” Brent said. “He gave me an address to send my resume to, and he said he’d contact HR about the internship. I should hear back in a week or two, and they’re okay doing phone interviews since I’m not in the area.”

  Lowell looked down at him. “I’m glad my family can help. You deserve every opportunity you can get.”

  “Thanks.” Brent smiled up at him.

  Lowell held his phone out over Brent’s head. “Hold that smile. I’m going to take your picture.” Brent made a weird face, and Lowell poked his shoulder. “Quit it!”

  “Nope.” Brent sat up and twisted, pinning Lowell to the rock before he could fight back. He stretched out long over Lowell’s body, liking the way he laughed as he twisted and wriggled, playfully trying to get free.

  “Hey, that was uncalled for,” Lowell said. He shoved at Brent’s chest but he had a huge smile on his face.

  “So much for your Jell-O wrestling skills.”

  Lowell sputtered. “I was prepared then. Besides, you weigh at least twice what I do, you beast.”

  They wrestled for a little longer, but it was half-hearted at best. By the time they stopped, they were both hard. It occurred to him that this never would have happened if Lowell hadn’t filled in for Nathan. He still missed his best friend. They would have had a blast. But there would have been none of this. No wrestling that was really foreplay. No sex. And no sharing something totally new.

  Brent glanced down. Lowell’s sunglasses were askew and so was his hat, and he looked so disheveled and happy Brent had to lean in and kiss him again.

  “What do you want to do tonight after dinner?” Brent asked after propping himself up on one elbow so he could take off Lowell’s sunglasses and look into his eyes.

  “Hang out around the campfire?” Lowell said with a shrug. He reached up to remove Brent’s sunglasses and set them on the rock next to his own. “What else is there to do while camping?”

  Brent chuckled. “Well, I can think of one or two things. Although, you might be a little loud for that.”

  Lowell stuck his tongue out.

  “You gonna use that tongue later?” Brent teased.

  “I bet I can make you scream.” Lowell smirked at him.

  “Oh, that sounds like a challenge!”

  “Just you wait, sweets.”

  ***

  “Holy fuck, this is so good.” Lowell shoveled another bite into his mouth. “Yep, we’re totally going to have to get more food.”

  “Are you talking with your mouth full?” Brent asked, amused. Lowell was usually so precise and polite when he ate.

  “Yes. I’m starving. How is this so yummy? I don’t even like chili.”

  “Well, I did use turkey instead of beef.”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure it would have mattered.”

  “Yeah, you’d probably eat shoe leather right now.”

  Lowell wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know about that. But maybe. I swear I’ve never been this hungry before in my life. And it all tastes so good.”

  “Save room for hobo pies after dinner.”

  “Trust me,” Lowell said. “There will be plenty of room. I feel like a bottomless pit.”

  Brent stood with a groan. “Guess I better get started on them now then. Or you may start eating my leg.”

  Between the great hike and Lowell’s appreciation of his chili-making skills, Brent was in a great mood as he slathered butter on white bread and put a dollop of filling on it.

  And ten minutes later when Lowell tore into his cherry-filled hobo pie and let out a contented moan, Brent grinned at him. “It’s official. I definitely can’t call you a snob anymore.”

  After dinner, Lowell helped him clean up. They sat around the fire for a while, listening to the music someone was playing a few sites over. A few people had dropped by to gawk at the car, but Lowell was pretty good at getting them to leave after a few minutes. Politely, of course, but firmly.

  Brent usually went and talked to people in nearby sites, but he didn’t have the same urge to do that with Lowell around. Not because he was ashamed of being here with Lowell. He didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone thought of him and Lowell together anymore. But with Lowell here, he had everything he needed.

  The thought made his heart pound, and he stared into the fire, wondering if he was getting in over his head. He kept having thoughts like this, and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t stop now, but a part of him was terrified about how it would all play out after they were back home.

  Sure, they were both going to be in Chicago next fall, but that didn’t mean anything. Lowell had told him over and over again that he wasn’t the commitment sort of guy. This was just a summer thing, right? What if it all blew up in his face?

  “I need to shower.” Brent glanced away from the fire to see Lowell stagger to his feet.

  Brent cleared his throat. “Give me a sec to scatter the coals, and I’ll come with you. I need it too.”

  Brent retrieved their toiletries, and they walked in silence to the showers, his flip-flops noisily clacking on the pavement.

  In the building that housed the men’s showers, Lowell groaned. “Oh, fuck. I’m so tired. I’m in good shape. Why did eight miles of hiking wear me out so much? Why are my arms so sore? I don’t think I can lift them to wash my hair.”

  “Want me to join you? I could help.” Thankfully, unlike some campgrounds, this one had separate shower rooms rather than stalls, and no one would notice two guys showering together unless they saw them go in or out. It was still early, and the place was nearly deserted so Brent didn’t think they had anything to worry about.

  Lowell just grinned and held open the door.

  “You do feel tense,” Brent said a few minutes later as he rubbed soap across Lowell’s shoulders.

  “Yeah, tightness from carrying the backpack, I think. I need to stretch.”

  Brent slipped the so
ap back into the travel container. He grasped Lowell’s hips, gently rubbing circles on the tight muscles beside his spine. “How does this feel?”

  “Obscenely good. Don’t stop. Please.”

  Brent chuckled. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  Lowell made quiet noises of encouragement as Brent kneaded the muscles in his back, working his way up his spine. Lowell seemed loose and relaxed by the time Brent reached his shoulders and neck. He massaged Lowell’s arms too, ending with the palm of each hand. Lowell seemed far less tense, but Brent couldn’t say the same. Running his hands all over Lowell’s body had been a huge turn on.

  Lowell let out a little sigh of contentment. “I can hardly stand upright now.”

  Brent rested his chin on Lowell’s shoulder. “Want some help?” he whispered. He slid his arms around Lowell’s midsection, and Lowell relaxed against him, resting a little of his weight against Brent. He held his breath, wondering if Lowell would pull away from his cock, which was now trapped between Lowell’s ass and Brent’s stomach, but if anything, he pressed back a little harder.

  His hands were still slick as he slid them across Lowell’s abs and toward his cock. “This okay?” he whispered in Lowell’s ear.

  “Yes.” Lowell’s voice was whisper-quiet, but clear.

  When Brent wrapped his fingers around Lowell’s cock, he let out a breathy moan. Brent forgot all about being tired and sore from the hike. He kissed Lowell’s neck as he stroked his cock with one hand and fondled his balls with the other. The sounds Lowell made drove him crazy, and he sped up, grasping Lowell’s cock more firmly and twisting a little when he got to the head.

  Lowell flexed his hips, fucking Brent’s fist. Brent’s cock was sandwiched between Lowell’s cheeks, sliding along the groove there. He wanted to fuck Lowell, have his cock buried as deep as he could get in Lowell’s ass, but that would mean he’d have to stop touching Lowell, and he didn’t want to, not even for a minute. He contented himself with the friction against his skin.

  Lowell reached down and grasped Brent’s thigh, gripping it so tightly Brent wondered if he’d have bruises tomorrow. He decided he didn’t care. A few strokes later, Lowell came with a little cry and slumped against him. For a few minutes, Brent just held him, kissing his neck and breathing in the scent of Lowell’s skin.