Page 18 of Muscle Cub

I turned on the lantern, stood as much as the tent allowed, and unzipped the door flap.

Austin stood clutching his shorts with a single platform boot slung over each shoulder. He glanced down. “Oh, look at your tidy little mat.”

“I, uh… wasn’t going to allow shoes in the tent,” I mumbled, toeing them off.

“Will you make an exception for Hedwig and Hagatha?” He brushed pine straw off the soles of his bare feet with his fingertips. “I’m not technically wearing them in. I just don’t want to risk them getting damp with dew or something.”

“That’s fine.” I didn’t mention that the dew wouldn’t fall until morning. Hours from now. I stepped back to let him tiptoe inside and zipped the flap up behind him.

There was really nowhere for him to go but onto the bed. I stole a quick eyeful of his bubble butt as he crawled onto the far side of the mattress.

“I’ve never seen an airbed with a head bolster.” He rolled onto his back, laced his fingers behind his head, and crossed his ankles. “Nice.” His cock and balls were drawn up tight from the slight chill in the air, but he seemed completely unselfconscious about it.

“Yeah, it was marketed on the box as a headboard.” I remained standing, my head awkwardly bowed under the curve of the tent’s dome, eyes on his, trying not to ogle his body. “I don’t know that I’d call it that, but at least I can still prop up in bed and read.”

“Read?” He scoffed. “Is that what you came here to do?” He sighed and shook his head at me like he found me incorrigible.

I couldn’t go on stooping and looming over him, so I joined him. I lay back with my legs straight and my hands stacked on my belly like it wasn’t a big deal at all that we were lying on my bed together alone in my tent.

My heart pounded so hard he could probably feel the mattress moving.

Austin turned toward me and resettled on his side, bouncing and jostling against me more than was probably necessary. His greater weight created a gravity well, and I rolled helplessly against him, ending up with my shoulder pressed into his chest and my ankle resting over his calf. I tensed, instinctively trying to hold the weight of my leg off his, which was stupid and unnecessary; it wasn’t like I was going to hurt him.

I willed myself to relax, to try not to overthink every detail of being with him.

“I should’ve offered you some water,” I said.

“Maybe later. Don’t get up now.”

“I don’t usually drink much alcohol.”

“You’re on vacation,” he said softly. “Nobody’s judging you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Austin studying my face as I stared at the tent ceiling and counted my breaths. “What do you want to happen here?” he asked bluntly.

I didn’t look at him. “What do you mean?”

“What do you like to do?”

“Is this like a detailed negotiation or…”

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I’m used to sluts like me who rattle off their preferences in shorthand.”

I turned my head and caught his eye. “You’re not a slut.” I wasn’t sure he wasn’t or how convinced I sounded, but the self-deprecating humor had landed wrong with me.

Austin twisted his lips. “Well…”

“Why would you call yourself that?”

“I’m just playfully reclaiming the term. I think it’s only right you should know what you’re getting with me. Which, for the record, is versatile/bottom, negative for STIs, on PrEP, and happy to play at whatever level of safety you feel comfortable with.”

“I gathered that you’re… popular.”

“Aww. What a sweet way to put it.” He sounded genuinely flattered. He waited a few heartbeats to see if I would say anything more, and then he sighed. “So… why don’t we go back to the kiss that almost happened in the pool and see how it goes from there. Is that cool?”

I swallowed and nodded.

Austin reached over and gently cupped my jaw. His eyelids fluttered closed.