I'm so stuffed after all the food Craig brought that a walk actually sounds pretty good. Craig packs the cooler back into his car, but keeps out the water bottles, which he stuffs into a backpack and slings across his shoulder. I can’t help but laugh at how he’s suddenly transformed into Mr. Rugged Outdoorsman.

We start down a trail that meanders through tall grass and wildflowers. The river is close enough to hear the whooshing in the background at the start, and then there is nothing but the sounds of the wind in the trees and reeds and the birds chirping. My rushing brain calms, like my body is unconsciously trying to match the peaceful surroundings. Craig points out butterflies and wild berries and even a few rabbits. I'm not sure how long we've been at it, but we come to a sign at the end of the trail, and I'm about to pronounce myself a hiking god. This wasn't hard at all! I'm a natural!

“Wow, that was a great hike,” I say, stretching my arms to the side and twisting back and forth. The sun is bright overhead and my hair has started to stick to my forehead and neck. “I can see why you like it so much.”

Craig's eyebrows bunch together, and he opens then closes his mouth. Finally, he says, “This is the start of the actual trails. We can either go on the longer but easier hike through the meadows, or the more direct hike, but it's steeper. And a lot harder. I'm thinking, given your inexperience, we should stick with the meadows.”

I frown and look back in the direction we came from. “Then what was that?”

“That was just the trail that gets us from the parking lot to the trailhead.” His confusion has given way to amusement, and I try not to be offended by the fact that he's obviously biting his lip so that he won't laugh at me.

“Oh.”

“But you're doing really well so far.” He rests a sweaty hand on my neck, and I suddenly don't mind the exercise at all. He's close enough that I can smell him, and it’s a sweet tang that makes me want to hold off on hiking and find a rock to lay him out on and lick him all over.

Craig’s eyes narrow, studying my face, and then he starts to rummage through his pack. My eyes widen at the first aid kit he pulls out, and I wonder what injury I’ve sustained without realizing.

“Sunscreen,” he says, whipping out a tube from the kit. “Hold still.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to protest that I can do it myself. But then he gently spreads it across my forehead and down my nose, and my words leave. Goosebumps spread along my skin when his fingers trail around the edge of my ears. He notices and blows a thin stream of air behind my ears, causing me to shiver more and him to chuckle.

“Let's go, babe,” Craig says, all packed up and ready. He swats my ass to get me going, and I can't help the whimper that escapes. “Maybe, if you're really good, there will be a reward at the end.”

I can't see his face, but I can tell he's smirking. Damn it, hiking and hard-ons really don't mix, but now I can't stop thinking about my reward and hoping that it's a spanking.

Ten minutes later, I’ve had to wave him over for another stop and sip of water. If Craig thought hiking would be a great time to get to know each other, he seriously overestimated my level of fitness. If I'm going to die, though, at least it's with Craig. I honestly don't remember feeling this comfortable around someone I find attractive. That in and of itself is usually enough to start the nerves back up, but other than some major league blushing, I feel like I can be myself around Craig.

“It’s all uphill,” I puff.

“Just the first half,” he teases. “After that, it’s all downhill.”

I’m too tired to argue, so I flip him the bird, which he seems almost gleeful about.

We’ve been going noticeably slower the past few minutes, so I think he’s finally figured out that if he doesn’t want to be carrying me at the end, we need to keep at a snail’s pace. He keeps asking me questions, and my breathing has finally steadied enough that I can answer.

“I came out to my parents my sophomore year of college,” I say in answer to his question about whether I ever came out to my parents after the Ben incident. “I think my mom knew before. Or guessed, once I started hanging out with Ben. She remembered him from orientation, so once we became friends she’d send me emails with all sorts of links.”

“Like what?” Craig asks with total interest. It’s one of the things I’ve really started to notice on the hike. The way that he questions me and listens to me talk isn’t what I’m used to. I’m used to people asking meaningless questions and zoning out during the answers because it’s what they were supposed to do, not what they were actually interested in doing. I’m beginning to think Craig was being honest when he said he wanted more than just sex.

“Like articles about why being gay is wrong. Articles about how you should keep your gay friends at a distance so you don’t catch the gay. How to ‘minister’ to your gay friends so they can stop being gay through ‘God’s love.’ Shit like that.”

“Fuck, and even after all that, you still had the balls to come ou … shh.”

Craig grabs my hand and crouches down and I mimic his actions. He points to a spot where the meadows start to fade into the tree line. Two baby deer follow after their mother, browsing through the shrubbery for food. I barely fill my lungs with shallow breaths, trying to remain still as we intrude on their family time. The mother is serious about her meal but stays alert with a gracefulness that belies her strength. The babies are too easily distracted, nosing at each other and at her.

I realize Craig hasn’t released my hand, so I squeeze it, a thank you for this moment. He seems to understand, turning to look at me with shining eyes and a smile filled with wonder.

Loud crunching coming toward us startles the deer, who dart back into the trees, and Craig and I, who spring up to standing. Hikers who must have gone the opposite direction walk toward us, chatting loudly and scaring away any other wildlife with their ruckus. It reminds me how special what we just saw was, and how lucky I am to be here with Craig.

I watch him adjust his backpack and take a small swallow of water. He pulls off his cap and runs an arm across to mop up his sweat before replacing it. I’m mesmerized by his slow, sure movements, and don’t realize I’ve been caught staring, because crossing his arms across his chest just emphasizes the ripples of his lean muscles. He has to clear his throat for me to drag my gaze to his way-too-smug face. I blush for what I think might be the very first time during the hike.

“You’re such a puzzle,” Craig says with a shake of his head. “You blush like that with me, but stand up to your mom – who, sorry but sounds like a total bitch – about your sexuality.”

“It wasn’t exactly on purpose. I wasn’t being brave. I just got tired of her badmouthing Ben and ended up yelling that I was gay too, and that if it was anyone’s fault, it was probably the youth pastor we had when I was twelve, because he was seriously hot.”

Craig chokes out a laugh. “Oh my god, what did she do?”

“She came knocking down my dorm door the very next day, with Dr. Henrick, her pastor, in tow. They kept telling me how much they loved me and wanted me to turn my life around for Christ. He might have been more convincing if he hadn’t kept calling me Zeke instead of Zach. But anyway, I told her that if she couldn’t accept me then I didn’t have to come home to visit or call to check in.”

“See, balls of steel.”

“She’s still pretty passive-aggressive about it, but I let it slide. So, no, still not that brave.”

Craig humphs, with a shake of his head, but leaves it there. We’re at a pretty steep part, and I have to put my hands on my knees just to make it up. But now I’ve got thoughts of my mom swirling in my head and I really want to redirect them elsewhere, so at a point when the trail finally levels off a little, I have enough breath to ask Craig, “What about your folks? Are you out to them?”

“Eh, I grew up in California, so no one cared. It’s where my love of all things outdoors comes from. There was this one river run where my buddy Maddon decided to bring his dog with him. I swear to god, I’ve never been so nervous and entertained, all at the same time.”

Craig, who doesn’t seem to have to choose between talking or breathing, spends the rest of the hike talking about his outdoor adventures in California, and I let him believe that he was successful in avoiding talking about his family. We've just started this, whatever this is, so if he’s not comfortable going there yet, that's understandable. I'm the one who has no problem complaining about my upbringing to anyone who will listen.

By the end of the hike, it may have been downhill, but I’m at the point where I hope the reward Craig promised me is death. Or at the very least, a bath and bed. People do this on purpose?

The parking lot and Craig's car come into view, and I'd cheer but I can't feel my arms. My shirt clings to my skin, and not in a sexy way. The smell of our sweat mixing stopped being sexy ages ago as well. Unless you find dirt and blisters a turn-on, I don't think anyone's libido could withstand what I've just been through.

“I'm sorry you didn't like it.” Craig looks guilty as he hands me his water bottle. I finished mine off before we even made it to the top.

“I liked it. It was pretty,” I say, but I don't have the energy to sell it.

“Pretty awful?”

I snort, and I’m too fucking tired to be embarrassed about it.

“Come on,” Craig says and puts his arm around my shoulders, sneaking a kiss to my cheek. “Let's get you back to civilization.”

I'd rub my cheek if I could lift my arm. He's the perfect mix of sweet and bad-ass. And, at least for the moment, he's all mine.

“And beer?” I ask, settling into the passenger seat and alleviating my body pain for the first time in hours. “Beer good. Beer make pain go away.”

“Yes, baby,” Craig pats my head, “We'll get you some beer.”

I smile at him, and at the fact that he keeps using terms of endearment. While the motion of the car rocks me to sleep, Craig is the last thing I see.

The slam of the car door jolts me awake. Craig twists around and starts the car back up, and I groggily take in our surroundings – the Liquor Mart parking lot near my house.

“I promised you beer, and I thought maybe we could order a pizza?”

“Sounds perfect.”

The stairs up to my apartment are daunting, so Craig jokingly hands me the beers and sets his hands on my ass and starts to push. I'm not even kidding, though, I need the assistance.

“Heave ho. I'm not getting there on my own.”

“Jackass,” he laughs, but he keeps his hands firmly on my cheeks.

Ben's home, and when we burst through the door, his jaw drops.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“A mountain,” I say, then turn to Craig. “Feel free to go ahead and shower. I'll order the pizza and then bring you some spare clothes. What do you like on your pizza?”

Craig holds up his backpack. “Already got a change with me. But anything with meat is good.” He winks and disappears into the bathroom.

“Seriously, dude, what the fuck? Last night, you were all sad when you got home from your date, and now you’re out doing physical activity with the guy?” I groan and head to the couch, but he holds out a hand. “Do not sit your stinky ass on this couch,” he says and points to the dining table.

“Craig apparently thinks a picnic and a hike are a nice date.” I try to smile, but I think it comes off as a grimace. “It was sweet.”

He starts to argue, but I hold up a finger to silence him while I order our usual from the pizza place down the street. They'll be here in twenty minutes, which gives me enough time to shower. Ben follows me down the hall, still trying to argue the point that a hiking date was sweet, but I turn to stop him.

“Seriously, do you want me still smelling like this when the pizza gets here?”

Ben holds his hands up in surrender, and I slide through the bathroom door, not opening wide in case Craig is still changing. Ben doesn't get to see that.

Fortunately for me, Craig's still in the shower, so I rap on the shower door.

“Find everything you need?”

The door slides open and a hand snakes out, tugging at my shirt.

“I have now. We could save water if you joined me,” Craig says, and sighs after I quickly shed my clothing and climb in behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. Now that I know the kind of work that goes into his slim build and toned muscles, I appreciate it even more. I grab the bar of soap and start to lather him up, dragging it across each dip of muscle. His eyebrow ring isn’t his only piercing, I’m happy to discover, and his nipples tighten when I tug on the barbells I’ve found. Damn, everything about him is fucking sexy.

“Tease,” he growls and spins around, rubbing our fronts together and getting me soapy in the process. The metal in his nipples rubs against mine, making them tight and sensitive. He takes the soap from my hand and runs it along my back. My hands are still soapy, so I use them to continue exploring, I mean cleaning, his back and ass. Meanwhile, Craig traces my crack with the soap, up and down repeatedly, and it's driving me crazy, thinking of the many ways to get it dirty again. He could clean my hole, just like this, then hold me open for someone to come behind me, making me nothing but a soapy filling.

Banging on the bathroom door jolts me from my fantasy, and I'm horrified to realize I'm on the verge of coming while grabbing onto Craig's ass and grinding my cock into his. Apparently Craig hasn't minded, though, because he reaches down and takes both soapy dicks in hand, stroking us together.

“Zach!” Ben's shouting accompanies another series of banging. “Pizza's here! Where's your wallet?”

“Mine's in the backpack in Zach’s room,” Craig yells back, startling me, because despite all the yelling, he hasn't stopped jerking us off. Instead, his strokes speed up, and his other hand reaches between my cheeks and taps against my hole. “My treat if you leave!”

He presses a soapy finger inside in time with his shout, and it burns, but it's perfect. The tendon running along his shoulder twitches from his movements and I have to bite it. Craig’s shout drags into a moan as his cum hits my stomach.

There aren't any more interruptions, so Ben must have found the wallet. And Craig has found my prostate. A couple of taps are all it takes, and I'm shooting over his hand. I didn’t realize I’d moved my bites to his earlobe until the metallic taste of his hoop is on my tongue.

He's still panting against me when I release him and gently pull him from me, so that I can wash our releases down the drain. He hums in contentment and I run my hand along his back.

“That was a nice reward,” I say, and giggle into his neck. “Pizza time.”