Page 33 of Oliver

When we leave more than three hours later, my feet are sore and my legs ache, but I’ve never seen Oliver look so happy. I grunt when he spins me to him the moment we step onto the sidewalk again, and kisses me.

“Thank you,” he murmurs against my lips. “That was wonderful.”

I rest my hand on his cheek and kiss him again, even as people walk past us. “You’re welcome,” I say.

We return to the RV and head back out on the road. It’s only a couple more hours to Baltimore and a Cracker Barrel for Oliver. We’re both hungry enough that we have lunch on the road and decide we’ll save Cracker Barrel for dinner.

“Would you like me to drive?” Oliver asks, no doubt sensing how tired I am.

“You don’t mind?” I say, and he shakes his head, so I gratefully take the passenger seat and doze off for a bit while he takes the wheel.

I wake to my phone ringing, and when I see that it’s Mom Facetiming me, I answer it. I’ve been sending her pictures and we’ve texted a few times back and forth but haven’t talked on the phone yet.

“You guys having fun?” she asks, and I rotate the screen so she can see Oliver driving. He gives a quick wave and a smile. Not the warm, bright, genuine one he gives me, I notice. The one that meets his eyes and makes him look so fucking sexy. No, this is his fake smile. The one he’s been wearing for years, the onethat he breaks out when he’s trying to be happy, and I feel a pang in my chest.

“Yeah, it’s been really great,” I tell her. I know I should feel more guilt than I do. What I’m doing to her, what I’m risking, it’s cruel and she doesn’t deserve it. She’s been an amazing mom. But I can’t ignore what I feel for Oli, even if it's only temporary. Even if it ruins everything. I will never feel wrong for having him, for wanting him.

We don’t talk for long, but I update her on our adventures, and when I hang up the phone, I sigh and run a hand through my hair.

“She sounds stressed and tired,” Oliver says after a moment. I murmur my assent.

“Do you feel guilty?” I ask him.

“Yes,” is his quick reply. I’m not surprised. If he didn’t feel guilty for what we’re doing he wouldn’t be Oliver. Wouldn’t be the man I’m coming to adore. His eyes are sad when he adds, “but I need you more than I feel guilty. You’re the only bright thing in my life. The only thing I’ve ever done for myself. And if I had to do it all over again I wouldn’t change anything that’s happened between us. But please don’t do this if you won’t be able to live with yourself afterwards, Hunter. I’m not worth that. And I don’t want to be the cause of your pain.”

“I think it’s too late for that, Oli,” I tell him softly.

Eleven

HUNTER

It’s evening when we arrive at Cracker Barrel for dinner. Oliver plays the peg board game at the table half a dozen times at least and pouts each and every time he has more than two pegs left at the end, but doesn’t stop playing.

When we finish and make our way to the campground, it’s almost dusk. The campsite is beautiful, and spacious, and along with a lake and hiking trails like the last campsite, it also has a pool and its own ice cream shop.

After getting everything hooked up we go for a dip in the lake, then head inside to shower.

He’s sipping tea as he reads, standing near the stove, and I can’t help smiling when I see him. He looks content, and I wish it could always be this way between us, because even though I know better, I am falling hard for this beautiful man. I just wish he could see himself the way I see him. I can’t imagine growing up in a home that ingrained into you your entire life that who you are is wrong, the self loathing that would fester, the internalanguish and shame he must have been living with as a result. That’s the trouble with people who are against homosexuality, they see it as a choice, as if picking a partner were the same as picking a school or a car or a home. But it’s not a choice. No one would choose to be persecuted for being their authentic self. No one would choose to be the victim of hate crimes, to be shunned, excommunicated, or kicked out of their homes. No one would choose to have their basic human rights taken from them, because of who they love. And that Oliver has been hiding himself for so long makes me want to wring his parents' necks for ever making him believe he is anything less than worthy. The lengths he must have had to go to, both mentally and physically, to protect himself, make my chest ache. He deserves to be his true self, to chase his own happiness, without worrying about what anyone else thinks. I wish I could give him so much more than what I have on this trip.

I move up behind him and slip my arms around his waist, pressing my lips to his neck. He hums and leans against me, setting his kindle and his tea down on the counter. The thought of letting him go in a few more weeks breaks my heart. He’s made me feel things I’ve never felt before, for anyone. I have such a strong desire to protect him, care for him, and nurture him, to watch him grow into the best possible version of himself, because I’ve seen glimpses of it on this trip, and it’s beautiful.

“Hey,” I whisper, pressing kisses to the freckles on his ear and feeling him shiver against me. My cock is already hard and pressed up against his ass. “You up for trying something a little bit different tonight?”

He nods. “Always. What did you have in mind?”

“I’d like you to top me,” I tell him. His breath hitches and he turns to face me.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks with an air of astonishment.

I nod. “Yes, Oli, I want you to fuck me.” I kiss him, then reach between us and grip his semi hard cock, stroking it through his sweats. I’m hard as steel now, my cock pressed against his thigh. “I want this big beautiful cock inside me. I don’t want to go another second without knowing what being filled by you is like.”

He swallows and nods, a moan escaping him as I stroke him until he’s fully erect. “I’m gonna ride you, baby,” I tell him. “You okay with that?”

He nods again and I take his hand, leading him towards the bed. We strip and he lies on his back. I reach into my luggage and pull out a pair of leather handcuffs, showing them to him. I lick my lips when his cock twitches at the sight.

“Is this okay?” I ask, moving up his body and straddling him, his huge cock leaking onto his stomach already with how turned on he is.

“Yes,” he says, breathless.

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