“Nice to meet you, Kelsey and Alex. I’m Knox. This is Aston, Luca, Branson, Weston, Anderson, and Crew.”
“Y’all are cute. We wanted to see if you wanted some company tonight?” Alex asks, a twinkle in her eye and a shy smile on her lips.
“Unfortunately, you may have hit the wrong group,” Knox says. “You see, we’re all either gay or taken. Or both.” He downs the rest of his beer. “Actually, that’s not totally true. Crew, I realize I have no idea if you’re gay or straight.”
All eyes turn to Crew, who’s sitting next to me. He flashes his pretty boy smile, with straight, white teeth, and says, “Neither. I’m bi.”
That takes me by surprise. How the fuck did I not know that my best friend is bisexual? “You are?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Now everyone’s eyes turn to me.Cool. Couldn’t’ve kept my mouth shut.
Crew takes a swig of his beer, licking his lips as his eyes drop to my mouth before settling back on my eyes. “Yup.”
“Since when?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Probably since always,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders causally.
The girls look at each other and giggle, walking away. Guess we no longer interest them.
The conversation picks back up, and I thankfully don’t have to think of a response to Crew’s sexuality confession. The knowledge shocks me a little, sure, but mostly… mostly, it intrigues me.
And I don’t know why.
After bullshitting for another couple of hours, and a handful beers later, we all decide to hit the hay. Weston went to bed about thirty minutes ago—before all of us—so he’s already asleep by the time Crew and I climb into the tent. This tent is not nearly as big as the box indicated. The multiple rooms the box advertised ended up being more like cubbies to store stuff in than actual places to sleep. All three of our sleeping bags have to lay right beside one another in order for them to all fit.
My sleeping bag is in the middle, with Weston on my left, and Crew on my right. We both strip down to our boxers—the night air is warm, plus our sleeping bags are below zero bags, so we don’t have to worry about getting too cold.
We situate ourselves in our sleeping bags and face each other. It’s so dark in here, I can barely make out any of his features. Neither of us speaks for several long moments. We just exist together, our breath mingling, but neither of us necessarily going to sleep.
“Why didn’t I know you were bi?” My voice is timid, and it cracks at the end of my question. Warmth spreads from my neck up to my face, and I’m thankful he can’t see me.
“I-I don’t know. Never really announced it at all. Don’t know why. Does it matter?”
I find comfort that his voice is just as unsure as mine.
“Of course, it doesn’t. Just figured it’s something I would’ve known. I’m your best friend and… I don’t know. Guess I just wished I had known already.”
We don’t say anything after that. Our faces are so close, if I moved even a hair of an inch, my mouth would brush his. I don’t know how we ended up like this, but neither of us move. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips, my eyes tracking the movement through the dark.
My pulse kicks up so fast, I can hear it in my ears. We’re both breathing heavily, our chests rising and falling in rapid succession. The longer the silence stretches, the air becomes thicker in the tent, the need to reach out and touch him growing to be almost overwhelming.
We both seem to inch even closer at the same time, our foreheads now resting together. His sweet breath is hot on my lips, sending a chill through my body and leaving goosebumps in its wake. I don’t have the slightest clue what’s happening or where it’s coming from. All I know is that I couldn’t move away from him, even if I wanted to. The magnetic pull to him is too strong.
“What’s happening?” he whispers against my lips, but doesn’t move an inch.
“I don’t know. But you can feel it too, right?”
He nods gently against my head. “Yes.”
My eyes flutter closed as I take in a deep breath. My skin tingles, my body temperature on fire, and whatever is happening here is making my head feel light. Choosing to stop thinking, I close the less than a millimeter distance between our mouths.
My lips press down on his as I hear him inhale sharply. His lips are as pillow soft as they look, yet surprisingly firm. Crew’s body stiffens a moment before he melts into me, a soft sigh leaving him once he does.
His hand comes up to cup my face, mouth parting as his tongue licks along the seam of my lips. When I open for him, his tongue strokes mine, curiously exploring. He tastes faintly like beer, but mostly like the spearmint mouthwash he rinsed with before bed.
We are caught in the middle of a hypnotizing spell, everything else in the world seeming to vanish. Right and wrong go out the window, because the only thing that matters now is his lips against mine and the earth-shattering way it’s making me feel.
The hand cupping my cheek weaves into my hair—gripping the strands, urging me closer to him and deepening the kiss. Our tongues continue their sensual dance and his grip on my hair tightens. Easing onto my back, our lips never breaking apart, he situates himself on top of me—which in a sleeping bag proves to be a little awkward, but fuck it.