We had such an incredible day, and I’m thrilled that I could surprise Jesse with our boat outing.

I wanted to take him on the floor of the boat, abandon our plans for the evening, but I restrained my desire to give Jesse everything he wanted in that moment because I knew he would appreciate the pleasure so much more that night.

At first, it was just the thought of wanting it, of enjoying the way Jesse’s able to take control and make me want to submit to him. Then there was knowing it’s something he wants, something that when I look at him and see how excited he gets at the mere thought, like when I displayed my ass for him on the boat, it’s so life-giving.

When we return to our campsite, we prepare it—pitching the tent, blowing up the air mattress, collecting wood for the fire. We make a good team, something I really appreciate, because like with so many things about us, we just come together and fit so easily.

As we eat dinner—steaks, asparagus, and corn on the cob that Jesse made on the grill—we chat a bit, but as we talk, my thoughts keep returning to what I’m eager to try tonight.

I can’t believe I’m even considering it. I wouldn’t have in another relationship. Jesse’s the first person who’s stirred this desire in me in this powerful way.

The past few days, I’ve played with my hole quite a bit, trying to vibe it out, see if I’m comfortable enough to take things further.

Jesse wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, wouldn’t push or rush me. I know that, and I notice I don’t tense up the way I once did when he plays with my ass. That’s probably one of the only reasons I’m even considering this. He respects my boundaries, these boundaries that I shouldn’t have, that are only there because of my fucked-up life.

When we finish eating, we toast marshmallows for s’mores. Jesse gives me a little bit of hell for the fact that I like mine a lot darker than he does, and we find ourselves eventually lying on a blanket on the ground, gazing at the stars through the trees.

I roll onto my side and rest my hand on his abs, just beneath his chest.

“This has been a really nice day,” I tell him.

“It has.” His white face has an orange glow to it in what remains of the campfire.

“We should do this kind of thing more often.”

“Well, you know, that’s what boyfriends do,” Jesse says. “Stuff like this.”

“Boyfriends? Whoa, whoa, we never said we’re boyfriends.”

His eyes widen, and his mouth opens. He sits up quickly, studying me like he’s thrown by my reply. “Are you fucking kidding me? We’re talking about telling your son about what we’ve been doing, and you don’t think we’re boyfriends?”

“I assume this requires a discussion about whether we are or aren’t boyfriends, doesn’t it?”

“Do we need a discussion at this point?” Jesse asks. I can tell he thinks I’m being absolutely ridiculous.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m being stupid. It’s been a very long time since I’ve talked to someone about being in a relationship…or considered that this was even a possibility. Hell, when I broke up with Casey, I swore off relationships altogether.”

“Most of us swear off relationships after a breakup.”

“Fair point, but you’re saying you want to be my boyfriend?” I query.

He grins. It’s like he’s proud of something. I can’t tell what. “You want me to ask you, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You don’t want to be the one to ask me. You want me to ask you. Why? Are you shy about asking me?” Jesse asks.

“I’m not shy about anything.”

“Do you think I’m going to reject you?”

“I know you won’t reject me.”

“How do you know? Obviously if we’re not boyfriends yet, there’s a possibility.”

“Shut up.”

He smirks a knowing smirk, like he understands this power he has over me. “Just admit it—you want me to be the one to ask you.”

“I’ll fucking ask you if—”

He interrupts with, “Be my boyfriend.”

“What?”

“I’m not asking you,” Jesse says, that smirk transforming into a whimsical smile. “Be my boyfriend.”

Damned if that isn’t the most adorable way he could have done it. He leans toward me and cups the back of my head in his hand.

“I take it that’s what you want, then?” he asks. “Us to be exclusive, to see each other, go to the clinic and get tested together, do all those things people do before they enter into a serious relationship? Because that’s what I want with you, Eric.”

“I feel like I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying this,” I tell him. “The older man asking his young, inexperienced guy, who’s too fresh to have the confidence to push about something like this.”

“You can still say it, but I think it’d be a little redundant at this point, don’t you?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. He takes my lips, kissing me, and I relax into it before hooking an arm around him.

There’s a closeness and intimacy in this moment that feels so special, so sacred. In a way, his words tore through yet another barrier I’ve thrown up. He’s so good at that. He’s so good at a lot of fucking things, including taking my breath away, which he manages to do in an instant. He pulls away, his gaze drifting down to my mouth as though he’s noticed. I avoid his gaze.

“I like this side of you, Eric.”

“What side is that?”

“Sheepish.”

“I’m not fucking sheepish,” I insist, yet in a way, he does evoke that in me. Like this desire I have to bottom for him. He stirs something very different within me. I want to submit to him, and I can’t wait any longer.

“I think I’m going to head up to the showers and get ready for you,” I tell him, and his smile—God, that smile—is enough to make me want to give this to him even faster.

“I’ll clean up this mess we’ve made, and be ready when you get back.”

I grab my backpack and head to the bathrooms at the top of a hill a few yards from our campsite. I hop into the shower, getting prepared, dreaming, fantasizing about what it will be like, him holding me in his arms, easing me into it. In a lot of ways, there’s pressure on him to help me take back something I feel was stripped from me long ago, but I have confidence in Jesse…and in us—in what we share. There’s this nervousness building within me as I inch closer to the moment I’ve been excited and terrified of since I first suggested the idea, but like with so many other things in my life, I know I have to push through the fear, face it head on. I’m ready to do that with him.

I head down the hill, back to our campsite. He’s cleaned up the beer bottles and plastic plates and cups and extinguished the campfire. I open the tent and see him lying stretched out, naked, over the sheets. He smiles the moment I bend over and step inside the tent, squatting as I zip it closed behind me.

I’m shaking a little bit, actually fucking shaking, like some sort of adolescent virgin. I remove my clothes and join him on the air mattress, lying beside him. A silence stretches between us, not uncomfortable or awkward—a special silence, that seems to stress the importance of this poignant moment.

“Did you miss your boyfriend?” Jesse asks me.

“Yeah, I missed him a hell of a lot.”

I lean toward him, and he comes at me with a kiss, puts his arm around me, and moves in closer, pressing his body against mine. I surrender so easily to him, rolling so that my back is on the mattress, him on top of me. I enjoy the pressure of his weight, how it feels to be beneath him.

He puts his hand against my face and leans back. There’s something in his gaze that’s so warm and inviting. It makes me feel so open.

He offers a soft kiss on my chin, such a strange spot for him to choose, yet there’s something so intimate about the way he kisses it. His lips move down my neck, and then he kisses his way down my body.

The air mattress squeaks as he crawls toward the foot of the bed, and soon he’s burying his face in my crotch, licking up my shaft, taking my cock into his mouth. There’s something nice about knowing I’m the only dick he’s sucked. I don’t know why that is so satisfying to me, why I so selfishly want Jesse, need him.

I keep climbing higher and higher, and then he releases my dick and slides his arms under my thighs, kissing beneath my balls down to my ass. I tense up immediately but try to relax, to trust in Jesse entirely. He licks gently, softly, the way I’ve done for him before, yet I find my tension rising, escalating quickly, and the shaking becomes more severe. I try to still the discomfort, to mentally will myself to stop. You can control this. You can make it through this…for him, for you, for us.

But a series of familiar sensations course through me. Painful. Crippling.

As he rims me, my muscles tense up, and I arch my back, not in that satisfied way when a sexual impulse moves through me, but that horrible feeling of an anxiety attack. My skin flashes with heat and sweat builds across my face. I struggle to breathe, and thoughts that I’m used to dealing with on occasion flash to my awareness.

I’m not with Jesse anymore. It’s dark all around me, and I’m paralyzed, my wrists pinned down as I feel that pain, that intense, unbearable pain, and I’m screaming before I feel the hand around my face clasping over my mouth.

It feels so real.

I scream, thrashing about, and suddenly I snap out of it. And there’s Jesse at the foot of the air mattress, moving back quickly off it.

He looks totally thrown, freaked out even.

I need to comfort him and assure him that everything’s all right, but all I can do is shake and tremble.

I’m paralyzed from my anxiety.

I need a Xanax. I need him to get it out of my bag, but I can’t even do as much as ask him that.

I feel so vulnerable, exposed, and humiliated all at once, but I can hardly focus on the moment while my thoughts keep pulling me back to the experience I relived in such a horrifyingly vivid way.

Another sensation sweeps over me, and I think I’m about to pull out of it, but instead, I lean forward and vomit onto the mattress before me, still trembling, feverish.

I hear Jesse saying something as he moves toward me, but it all seems like a blur as he wraps his arm around me.

I’ve ruined everything.

It’s all gone to shit.

God, I hate myself so fucking much.