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Robert Small enjoyed his space. When the cul-de-sac became too much he would drive out to the overlook to be alone. But sometimes that wasn't far enough. Under his skin, Robert would get the itch to run. He had a history of finding himself on the opposite coasts from the one's he loved. But since moving to Maple Bay, he'd been trying. He hadn't learned how to ignore the urge. But he had learned to appease it with smaller escapes. Days spent alone in his house, or late night drives to the overlook.
When those didn't work, camping seemed like a natural progression. If his nerves felt frayed even after hours spent chain-smoking and whittling? If the elevation from the city lights didn't snap things back into perspective? Then it was time to pack up his gear.
Usually they were trips for him and Betsy. But this time wasn't a usual trip. Robert hadn't gone alone. And he hadn't been the one needing the quiet pine wood forests and fires at nightfall to clear his head. But Damien did.
They’d met in the graveyard. That's how it all began. They had almost missed each other because they’d been so occupied in their own reasons for being there.
Robert had been smoking cigarette after cigarette, watching the matches he was using to light them fall from his fingers to the ground. They’d floated in the air, burning small but bright. They’d reminded him of daffodils once they’d gone to seed - floating on the wind. In this case the flames ended up under his boot. He'd stomp them out lest they light the grass. But for the sound of his boot crunching on dirt, he stayed silent. And he listened for the Dover Ghost.
Damien had been walking amongst the graves. His fingers trailed along headstones. Later, Damien explained that he found their cool touch, their permanence, and the reminder comforting. Damien reason for being out that night, though, had been that he needed to cool his head. He wanted a clear and calm plan before returning home to Lucien. Responding to one of Lucien’s acts of rebellion brashly, Damien said, never
worked.
"I'm going camping," Robert had said. "You should come."
He hadn't taken it personally when Damien laughed. It wasn't a cruel laugh. Damien had pressed his fingers to his own lips, actually. And he'd seemed embarrassed, cheeks going pink as he tried to stop himself.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. That is such a nice offer," Damien said. "It just caught me by surprise."
And Robert shrugged it off. He believed Damien. "Offers open. Tell me when."
He hadn't expected Damien to take him up on the offer until it happened. But then he hadn't expected the weeks of handwritten letters either. Suddenly weeks had gone by and Robert had spent more time with Damien than alone.
Then they'd found a weekend and tossed Damien's bags in with Robert's duffle bag. It had been a natural progression.
-
Robert wakes up the first morning in the woods to the sound of the tent snapping and rattling in the wind. He blinks up at the stretch of green canvas and watches the wind shake it. In his limbs, his eyelids, even his tongue, Robert can feel the heaviness of sleep. It pins him in place, and tries to lure him back into slumber. But he can feel where the sleeping bag is no longer warmed from his body heat. Robert frowns as he feels the chill creep in. Against his hip, Betsy is curled up under the sleep bag too. She seems to have the right idea, Robert thinks. He pulls the sleeping bag up to his chin.
Caught between being unable to sleep, and inaction, Robert chooses lying still. He ignores the urge to roll over and check the time. He knows the weak light coming in through the canvas means it's early, but he can't tell if it's four am or after six. He just knows it's too early to get up.
There's the sound of nylon rustling as the sleeping bag beside Robert's moves. And Robert holds his breath. He watches the now loose and messy ponytail of dark hair obscure Damien's face as he sinks deper into his sleeping bag. Damien slides down, looking for warmth, until there's not a bit of skin showing. Until all that's to be seen is his long hair and the shape of his body curled up int he sleeping bag. The foot of his sleeping bag kicks, thumping down on the tarp they laid out on the floor. And then he settles again.
Robert breathes out Damien makes small sounds as he goes back to sleep. And Robert catches himself smiling.
"It is too early," Damien grumbles, barely intelligible.
"Go back to sleep then," Robert replies.
"Too cold."
Damien rolls the whole bag with him as he turns over. The tent is not big to begin with and the action puts him on top of Robert's sleeping bag. It almost puts his limbs on top of Robert's through all the layers.
"What would I need to say to bribe you to get up first and start the fire before I leave the tent?" Damien asks.
And Robert laughs. "Jumping to bribery awfully quick," he says.
He doesn't admit that it wouldn't take much. He's got a warm swooping feeling in his stomach from looking Damien eye to eye. One he's growing accustomed to. Without the color contacts, Damien's eyes are dark and sleep heavy.
"This is beyond humility," Damien says. He has to break in the middle of the word 'humility' to yawn. "Really a fire and a cup of tea would be a gesture of mercy."
Robert can't help laughing again. He knows that was Damien's intent; his voice had been teasing in that way that's been happening more and more often of late. And as if to prove Robert right, Damien peeks more of his face out and reveals a playful smile. It makes Robert want to reach out and press his lips to the corners of Damien's mouth.
"Alright I'll get on that fire," Robert says. "I don't want you complaining that your fingers have turned blue."
"Thank you, Robert," Damien says.
For all his teasing, Robert waves the gratitude off. "I think I grabbed that herbal stuff you left at my place last week."
He stretches. As he sits up, Robert dislodges Betsy from where she's slept through everything the two of them talking. She barks, a small noise that might be a rebuke about letting the cold in.
"Sorry, girl," Robert says watching Betsy crawl out into the open.
"Oh! I was wondering where she had gotten to," Damien says.
Robert watches Damien as his arms snake out from the sleeping bag to spread wide and lure Betsy to him. She tips her head, but she's not a discerning customer, and so she trots the small distance to him. She's carefully, but quickly cradled in Damien's arms. He presses his whole face to her fur as he starts murmuring compliments. And oh, the fact that Damien loves his dog doesn't help Robert with the whole wanting to kiss him.
"I'm going to get that fire going. I don't expect to see you getting up," Robert says.
"I don't plan to move a muscle," Damien replies. He smiles beatifically up at Robert.
"Good."