They debated which Tool CD was the best and ate most of the brownies on the drive to the coast. Phil almost asked where they were going but realized he didn’t care. He was in Lee’s hands for the day. Nothing else mattered.
They took the southernmost Long Sands Beach exit and then a hard left onto a road Phil had never noticed before. They drove up into the trees on a strip of asphalt a lot like the trail outside Willston—barely two lanes wide, if that. No lines were painted down the center, though, so he couldn’t be sure. Lee stopped at a kiosk, slipped a five-dollar bill into a box and took a key out, opened the gate, and pocketed the key. He repeated the process in reverse, except for the money, on the other side of the gate. Lee pulled into one of a dozen or so empty parking spots, and his smug grin made Phil laugh. Phil thought Lee was leaning forward to kiss him, but then the door latch popped open and he jumped out.
“Come on, you’re burning daylight. Let’s go!”
Phil had barely made it to the front of the car before Lee started up the hill. He turned and walked backward a few steps until Phil caught up—his gaze travelled from Phil’s eyes, down his body, and then back up.
“Can I ask where we’re going?”
“Sure.”
They followed the trail up an easy slope. It veered west, but Phil couldn’t hear the ocean. “Well?”
“You didn’t ask. You only asked if you could ask.”
Lee grinned and loped ahead. Phil watched his effortless, graceful movements for a moment and then jogged to catch up. After about twenty minutes, they entered a clearing. Three small log structures faced a fire pit, each from a different direction. On the fourth side sat a covered picnic table. Phil’s eyes lingered on the table—just when he’d caught his breath from sprinting up the trail, his heart raced for a different reason.
“Hey.” Lee startled him from the pleasant memory of the picnic table on their heron-watching expedition. He peeked out the doorway of the log building on the opposite side of the clearing. “Check this out.”
Phil stood outside the doorway and looked in. It seemed to be part log cabin and part lean-to, about the size of a small apartment bedroom. “What is this place?”
“It’s a hikers’ camp. You can reserve it for a week or a weekend, hike all over the park.” Lee slipped a finger under the strap of Phil’s camera bag and drew it down, easing the bag from his shoulder and bringing him into the cabin at the same time. “In the summer, it’s a popular spot. Right now, there’s nobody for miles. It’s all ours.”
A shelf bisected the half of the room behind Lee—almost like a bunk bed. Lee placed the camera bag on the shelf and stepped close to Phil. He took their jackets off and draped them over the edge. Slowly he drew a hand up Phil’s left arm, across his shoulder, and gently gripped the back of his neck.
Phil shivered and his eyes fell almost closed as Lee softly kneaded his neck. He thought about leaning into Lee, about how warm and solid he’d felt on the porch swing. Phil didn’t move his feet, but a moment later he felt Lee’s chest pressed lightly against his own. Lee bent forward, featherlight kisses barely brushing against Phil’s lips made them tingle in anticipation. Slowly Lee’s kisses turned into nibbles. Phil felt Lee’s hand at his waist—touching him, holding him. That hand slipped around to his lower back, and then he was pressed tightly against Lee’s body.
Lee moaned softly, and Phil echoed the sound as his head bent backward with the force of Lee’s kiss. Lee traced Phil’s lips with the tip of his tongue, weakening his limbs. He leaned harder against Lee, squeezing his dick between them, and had to wrap both arms around Lee to stay standing. At once, Lee moved his hand to Phil’s ass and rubbed his thigh against his growing erection. Phil moaned into his mouth again and hooked his fingers through Lee’s belt loops—using them to pull him closer.
Amazing sensations flooded Phil’s senses, starting from his lips and his dick and spreading throughout his body. His skin tingled, the word yes playing over and over in his head until Lee took his lips away. Phil whimpered softly. He wasn’t standing anymore but wasn’t exactly sure where he was or how he got there. It didn’t matter. He was in Lee’s hands, so he was safe. He opened his eyes to find Lee, and found himself sitting on the edge of the shelf.
“It’ll hold. It’s a sleep shelf.” Lee stood between his knees, running both his hands over Phil’s legs, and then up under his T-shirt. Lee shivered, and in the heartbeat before he leaned in even closer, Phil worried about what he would think. “It’s made to sleep two, for when it rains.”
Lee lowered him onto his back and pushed his T-shirt up. All Phil could do was moan. Lee kissed Phil’s stomach and then rested his body on his—the shelf was just above waist high on Lee, giving him easy access to Phil’s prone and trembling body.
Phil shivered and propped himself up on his elbows to watch. Lee’s eyes followed his hands over Phil’s stomach, up to his chest and back down to his fly. Lee didn’t seem put off by how hairy his body was, and that almost let Phil relax. Almost. He tensed as Lee worked on getting his jeans open. Lee looked up but didn’t stop. Barely seconds later Phil gasped as the cool air hit his lower abs. Lee froze. Phil had just started worrying again when Lee swallowed hard and then gently lifted Phil’s hips to slide his jeans down and out of the way. Phil dropped his head back as Lee left soft kisses across his belly and then his upper thighs—like his neck didn’t have the strength to hold it up any longer. He moaned long and low as Lee’s strong hand caressed his cock where it rested on his stomach. When Lee’s lips touched his balls, the rest of the world disappeared. He cried out and didn’t care if anyone heard.
Nothing else existed beyond Lee’s kisses and caresses—better than anything he’d ever felt before—hotter, sweeter, and more exciting than he’d imagined it could be. With soft lips, Lee kissed his cock, flicking his tongue side to side as he drew his mouth up to the tip. When Lee’s tongue circled the head, Phil began rocking his hips, every exhale a panting breath that in his head sounded like please and yes.
Lee wrapped both hands around him, and Phil struggled not to come. He hadn’t blamed Lee in the park, even if it was a little disappointing. It had been so long since he’d sucked any dick at all, and he’d never wanted to trigger his gag reflex the way he’d wanted to that afternoon, with Lee. But when the only place Lee touched him was his aching hard-on… he understood. That’s fucking Lee Redding touching me, licking me—
Phil gasped for breath, desperate to keep going as long as possible but afraid it would be over any second, and then Lee stopped and just held on for a moment. He squeezed the tiniest bit, but didn’t move his hands until Phil was able to breathe again. Phil gave in to the urge to rock his hips, sliding his dick through Lee’s fists. After a few strokes, the tension started growing again, drawing soft moans from Phil’s parted lips.
Phil cried out again—more quietly this time—when Lee’s tongue caressed his balls, and they tightened against his body. His hips rocked faster, and when words formed and then spilled out, he didn’t try to stop them.
“Please… please, s-suck me. Oh shit, Lee, suck my dick. Please.”
Lee moaned and closed his lips around the throbbing head. He still moaned while he sucked it into his mouth. Slowly, Phil’s eyes focused and locked onto Lee’s. And then Lee lowered his head. He kept lowering it until his lips touched Phil’s body. He kept the suction steady as he raised his head, and for a frightening instant, Phil thought his heart had exploded. Time seemed to stop. Lee’s lips, his warm wet mouth, surrounded Phil’s cock, the perfect pressure making his eyes sting. Nothing had ever felt as good as coming in Lee’s mouth. Phil’s body spasmed and quaked. His moans turned to one long, loud cry that didn’t cover Lee’s wet nomming sounds. Shit, he’s swallowing. Lee sucked down his load like sweet cupcake filling. As soon as Phil stopped shooting into his mouth, Lee set to licking and sucking the rest from Phil’s skin.
PHIL WAS dimly aware of Lee pulling his jeans up and sliding onto the shelf beside hi
m, but he couldn’t move. Not even to open his eyes or reach out to touch him, and oh, he wanted to touch Lee. He wanted to share the joy as his every nerve ending sang—not a drop of fear to get in the way.
Lee pulled Phil against his chest and rubbed his cheek in Phil’s hair. “You always go commando?”
Phil couldn’t keep from laughing. He still couldn’t quite breathe, so he didn’t make a sound, but the joy had to get out somehow. It felt like being tickled from the inside.
“Because it’s hot.” Lee snaked his hand under Phil’s T-shirt. He spread his fingers across Phil’s back and pulled their bodies together, chest to chest.
“No.” Phil’s faculties started to return, and he kissed Lee’s throat and then sighed happily. “But I might now.”
“You wanna know something?”
“Hmmm?”
“This isn’t even what I have to show you.”
Phil chuckled again.
“I mean it. There’s something even better, but it’s another hike.”
“I doubt that.”
Lee kissed Phil’s temple, squeezed him gently, and then leaned back to look at him. “Seriously, it’s a few miles up the trail.”
“What is?”
“A family of osprey was seen up here a couple days ago. The guy who posted about it said he’d seen them before so they must live here.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding. They’re pretty cool. I think I saw one on the river a few years ago, out at Mom’s.”
Phil twisted into a sitting position, at the last minute keeping from smacking his head against the log ceiling. “And you know where they are?”
“Basically. The guy was pretty proud of himself and described it for about four paragraphs. But your pictures will be miles better.”
Phil leaned over and kissed Lee so hard it pushed him onto his back. Phil wasn’t sure whether he was relieved, disappointed, or something else when Lee kept his hands to himself. He dropped to the ground and zipped up. Lee reclined on his side with his head propped on his hand, like a pinup model, and watched.
“Well, show me where they are?”
Lee grinned and then launched himself from the shelf. They put on their jackets and headed west—and up—on the trail. After a few yards, Phil jogged ahead, turned, and walked backward facing Lee.
“So where did you see this guy posting about osprey?”
“On a message board.”
“No shit.” Phil laughed and stopped until Lee almost caught up to him, and then resumed walking backward. “What message board?”
“One where bird watchers go to see whose dick is the biggest.”
Phil laughed again and looked up at the steep cliff face alongside the trail above them. He was wondering whether the trail had been cut into the side of the hill or was built over a natural formation when Lee yanked him by the arm.
“You trying to get to the bottom the hard way?”
Lee’s eyes were wide and the hand gripping Phil’s arm a little too hard shook. Phil turned around and glanced at the drop behind him.
“Don’t be melodramatic.”
“Melo—you were pretty close to the edge. Maybe try walking forward awhile?”
“Sure, okay.” Phil shook his head and started walking again. Around the next corner, he heard the ocean and walked a little faster. He wasn’t sure what excited him more: that he might see the ocean, the prospect of shooting a family of osprey, or the fact that Lee had searched bird watching forums for him.
Der. That last thing.
A few more yards and another hard turn around the hill later, the ocean came into view. Phil stopped to look, and Lee stopped beside him.
“Whoa. I didn’t know we were up so high.” It felt like being on one of the bridges over the Columbia River, maybe even higher, and not one of the low ones like the Hawthorne. A thrill of vertigo thrummed through Phil’s body—they easily stood higher than the Vista Bridge in Jerry’s neighborhood.
“Just a little farther to where the birds are.”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“Not really.” Lee grinned and placed a quick kiss on Phil’s cheek. “But there’s not much daylight left for pictures.”
Phil took in the view once more, his chest tightening at the power and beauty spread out for them, and only them. Phil smiled at Lee and they started walking again.
If Lee was the last guy on earth, that would be fine with me.
A screech cut through the air above them, and they stopped to scan the sky. Only a few crows darted through the trees, so they kept going.
“Was that an osprey?”
“Maybe.”
“Shouldn’t you know an osprey when you hear one, birdman?”
They laughed and Phil pushed Lee hard enough so he bounced against the rock wall, which only made Phil laugh harder. For the next few yards of trail, they horsed around as much as walked, and weren’t overly concerned about birds of any kind. In fact, Phil had almost forgotten all about the osprey by the time they heard another screech.
“There it is!” Phil backed away from the hillside, trying to keep the bird in sight as it soared.
Lee grabbed his right arm and the unexpected touch—there, of all places—sent a jolt of panic through Phil’s body, obliterating all thoughts of birds or hillsides or cliffs. Phil twisted his arm free and lunged away. The next thing he knew Lee was sliding over the edge, rocks crunching and pinging down the slope below. He shouted and grabbed for Lee, but before he could get a hold, Lee’s heel hit a rock and stopped, momentum plunging Lee backward and over the cliff.
All Phil could do was watch as Lee tumbled down, bouncing off rocks and sliding past anything he could’ve grabbed to stop himself. He was sure Lee would keep going all the way to the bottom, to the rocks jutting up from the pounding surf, and he would have to watch the whole thing. But then Lee stopped. For a wing beat the whole world seemed to stop too—no birds screeched, no surf pounded. Phil waited for his heart to beat again. A ledge had stopped Lee, but a few little rocks and chunks of dirt fell around him. Phil could see his head, and most of the top half of his body.
He couldn’t just stand there and wait for Lee to start sliding again, so he scrambled down the slope—still in a panic, but not the usual kind. The panic driving him over the edge was a kind he’d never felt before.
Lee wasn’t moving—he’s breathing! For a moment Phil crouched beside him, paralyzed with the need to do too many things at once. He needed to get Lee away from the edge, he needed to see how badly he was hurt, he needed to get help and get him out of there, he—
Safety; first aid; rescue.
The ledge wasn’t much larger than an overstuffed sofa, not much to work with. Phil arranged Lee’s limp body against the hillside and tried to figure out how badly he was hurt. He ran his hands over Lee’s head, body, and arms, checking every few seconds to be sure Lee was still breathing. He found a surprisingly small amount of blood, given that Lee had bounced off some large and pointy rocks on the way down. When Phil got to Lee’s legs, he groaned.
“One’s broke.” Lee’s breathing roughened, and came a little faster.
Startled, Phil twisted to look back at Lee’s face—still slack, eyes closed, and starting to look a little waxy. “Which one?”
“Not sure.”
Phil hoped Lee was trying to figure that out, and just when he was going to prompt for an answer, Lee said, “Right ankle?”
“Okay.” Phil ran his hands carefully over both legs, just in case, and breathed a little easier when he found no blood at all. He looked back at Lee’s face and the side of Lee’s mouth curved in a little smile. “Please tell me your phone’s still in your pocket. I can’t find mine.”
“Check?” Lee smiled a little wider and sighed when Phil started checking his pockets.
“No. Damn. Hey, do me a favor and open your eyes.”
“Tired.”
“No, you’re not. Just open them for a minute.”
&n
bsp; “Okay.” After a silent moment, in which he did not open his eyes, Lee groaned. “You’re strong.”
“What? Look at me.”
“You pulled me back from the edge and didn’t drag or bang me around or anything.”
Phil breathed easier still after getting such a long and clear answer, but it was getting late. Soon it would be dark, and there was a chance of rain. Or worse.
“I don’t see anyone. I’m going to climb back up and get some help.”
Lee’s eyes fluttered open. Sort of. “Don’t. You could fall.”
Phil looked up the slope and shuddered when he realized that he’d raced down the expanse with barely a thought. No way could he make it back up safely. He couldn’t even pick out the route he’d used to get down or figure out how far he’d have to climb to reach the trail—all he could see were the sharp edges of rocks jutting out from the sheer face of the cliff. He cursed under his breath. Then he yelled for help a few times. He could barely hear his own voice, the pounding of the incoming tide seemed to swallow the sound before it even left his throat.
Nothing. Not even an echo.
Breathe; think; breathe.
He sat beside Lee and looked down at him. The gash on the side of his head hadn’t stopped bleeding, but it had slowed down quite a bit. If it didn’t stop soon, he’d do something about it. Phil’s thoughts raced into a whirlpool of doubt wondering whether blood loss or the potential for corrupting the wound should be his main concern.
“I didn’t lift you.”
“Sure you did.”
“You were unconscious. You don’t know what I did.”
Lee smiled and then winced. “Was not. Just dazed.”
“Oh. If that’s all.”
“Sorry about your camera.”
Phil looked around and reached for the strap on his camera bag, but it wasn’t there. “I think it’s up on the trail.”
With my phone inside. Shit!
“Like a beacon. Smart.”
Phil snorted. “Like dropping it and diving after you. No brainer.”
Nesting Habits Page 7