Black Fox: The Vessel - 4. Chapter 4 - Unreachable

What do you know, Kevin wasn't himself after we woke up in the morning and would only answer me in single words, if at all. Through the night, I weaved schemes of taking our little friendship a step further by suggesting that, since we’re good friends now, maybe we can shower together. The problem is, if you're straight and realise you've been pressing your boner against another boy's boner all night, it's more than possible that second thoughts will come into play.

If I keep it up, I will antagonize everyone before the camp is over.

I browsed my memory for any hints I might have given Kevin that I'm gay. Sure, I knew I could act flamboyant and juicy sometimes, but that’s no longer an indicator of someone's gayness.

Why would I even bother with such a thought, you ask? See, straight boys are allowed to experiment and mess around with each other, no biggie. But if you're gay, then it's just… too gay, right? For the sake of our friendship, I wanted to keep the straight act for as long as I could. Maybe Sarah told him? Fuck.

That's why Kevin shocked me so much when he found me drawing on my bed later that day.

"We should go there tomorrow," he said.

I quickly closed the sketchbook with a slap. It was my not-safe-for-work sketchbook and I didn't want Kevin to see me moving Cayden all the way up to the S tier on my would-fuck list. Or completing the lower part of my old drawing of Owen. Sure, maybe I didn't get a good look at Owen’s cock. It was dark, but the main problem was that it was fully submerged in my inexperienced mouth most of the time. For some reason, I had a unique talent of memorizing shapes and textures with my mouth. Speaking of skills not to put in your resume.

"Go where?" I asked.

"Up the hill, to the chapel," Kevin said nonchalantly.

"What?" I looked up at him with disbelief. "Why would there be a chapel on that hill?"

"Didn't you say it was there yourself?"

I slapped my forehead and regretted it because I hit my patched wound which still felt pretty sore. "I made it up, alright? How would I know what's up there? I've never been there. Have you?"

"No, but I checked on my phone," he said and waved it in the air. "There are ruins of an old fort and a chapel, just like in your story."

I stared at him for a few seconds but couldn't utter a word.

"And guess what," he continued with a wide grin, "the place actually was raided by Danes in the 9th century. I couldn't find a single note about the lord or his sons or anything else that happened, but I'll visit the library when we're back and try to find out more. It sounds fascinating!"

I forgot I shouldn't underestimate his passion for history. I sighed. "Alright, I might've read a thing or two about this place, but why would you want to go there?"

"I don't know. You just stirred my imagination, that's all."

"I thought you were freaked out," I said humorlessly. "Seemed like you needed hugs, not an adventure," I added, hoping to hit his weak spot and sure enough, he blushed and scratched the back of his head.

"That was a moment of weakness," he pointed at me with his index finger. "And all the howling made me act irrationally."

"Wow, how thoughtful. So you think it's a good idea to go inside the forest full of wolves?"

"I got us covered," he said triumphantly. "There are no wolves in these parts. That must've been a dog."

"I'm not sure if I've ever heard a dog howl like that, but suit yourself," I said and opened my safe sketchbook to continue drawing. "I don't care if I get shredded to pieces by a wolf or a wild dog."

"Fuck, Ian, there are no wild dogs here and you know it. Just say you're a chicken and I won't hold it against you."

"Sure you won't," I said, not caring to look up from my drawing. "I'll remind you the next time you're afraid of a loud sound and need cuddles."

"Mock me all you want. I'm going with or without you."

"Your parents won't let you go anyway."

"They won't know if I go after dark."

This time I looked up at him, scanning his face carefully.

"Mate, you'll shit your pants the moment you see a frog on the road. Don't be stupid."

Kevin smiled at me, probably happy to have made me lose my temper. Then, he fucking winked at me and left the cabin. I shook my head. No more scary stories for this suicidal boy.

***

Later we went swimming and threw a ball around in the lake. After I dried myself, I changed the patch on my forehead. Not that I was bleeding profusely or anything. I just didn't like the cut Owen's stone left on my otherwise flawless skin, if you don't count a few freckles scattered around my nose. I did like the green patch against my light-pink skin.
It was a cool accessory. I'd probably place it on my cheek instead but it's not like I could go to Owen and ask him to aim a little lower next time.

As much as I was scared of the drummer, the pull was even stronger than yesterday. I didn't like the idea of being a moth flying into the flame, but I didn't care anymore. I wanted a fiery summer romance that would leave me a wreck and possibly get me killed in the process. I wanted to drown him in my passion and become his own private cum junkie. I wanted a motherfucking heartbreak. I wanted to Bonnie & Clyde us off the surface of this Earth. Ride or die! I wanted sex and biting tongues. I didn't want more porn or wanking off. That stuff was for kids. I was an old soul but my body was full of life. My blood was a fucking fountain of youth! My erections were harder than diamond and my orgasms were ripping through the fucking fabric of space and time.

I made sure the patch was placed at just the right angle in relation to my hairline and smiled gently. Just in my dark blue short swimming trunks, I flexed in front of the mirror. I was a perfect twink body in the making. I felt seriously sexy with my fresh growth spurt. If Owen doesn't fall for this, he won't fall for anything. Sure, for now, he hates me more than anyone and is probably an emotional wreck. Somehow, that made it even better. Don't judge me, please. I wanted him to have the best time of his life with me.

Did I mention I haven't seen him all day again?

The evening wasn't exactly as warm as the last one and even with the crackling fire, I had to give in and put on a t-shirt over my naked torso. Right before sunset, I went to the “bathroom” again. I stopped by our cabin and picked up a nice, wooden cutting board from the kitchenette. I whistled a melody that was stuck in my head the whole day and went on a trip along the lakeshore. My heart was beating faster and faster as I was getting closer to the lion's den. I was scared and aroused. My favourite combination by far! The adrenaline ignited a furnace in my abdomen and I wasn't feeling the evening cold anymore.

Owen was sitting in the same place as yesterday and spotted me immediately when I emerged from the tall grass. He picked up a few stones from the ground before jumping to his feet.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out of here!" He shouted, accenting every word with a stone thrown my way. I raised the cutting board to shield my face and squinted every time a stone hit the wooden surface with a loud knock. The last stone hit me right in my fucking fingers that were holding it and I howled in pain.

"Oh fuck, AAAhhh!" I screamed, clutching my hurt fingers with the other hand and tears of pain escaped from the corners of my eyes. Damn it hurt as bloody fuck!

Then I felt Owen's grasp on my t-shirt near the collar as he pinned me to the ground.

"Stay the fuck away from me," he sneered and I swear I could see foam forming around the edges of his mouth. His eyes were wild and bloodshot and made me almost piss myself. Before I could utter a word, he took a handful of dirt and pressed it forcefully right in my face.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you," he hissed as he was rubbing the dirt in my face, getting it in my eyes, nostrils and mouth. I coughed and snorted and tried to get his hand away but he was too strong.

"Please… stop!" I cried when I realised he wasn't about to.

To my surprise and relief, he backed his hand off and let me go. I rolled on my belly and for a full minute, I was coughing, spitting dirt and getting it out of my face and hair. My eyes were burning and teary from the harsh treatment. I crawled over to the water edge and submerged my face in the water. All the time, I expected a kick in my face or ribs but it never came.

When I finally got rid of all the sand and dirt from my face, I dared to open my eyes. Still on all fours, dripping water from my head, I looked down at myself. My t-shirt was muddy and pulled over. The skin was gone from my hurting knuckles but fortunately, they weren't bleeding too much.

I looked around and saw Owen sitting a little farther away. I took a few deep breaths and almost crawled over to him. When I was less than ten yards away from the teen, I stopped and sat down on the ground.

Owen paid me no attention. He was looking away from me and at first, I wasn't sure, but then I was. I heard weeping. He was quietly crying and seemed to be unaware of my presence. Or at least he did nothing to acknowledge it.

I knew better than to yank the lion's tail this time. I sat a little more comfortably facing the lake and just stared at the distance, trying to process everything that just transpired.

My hurt hand started getting cold. I took off my t-shirt and wrapped it around my fingers to stop the bleeding and get it warmer.

A few minutes later, Owen stopped crying and his breath got more even. He didn't budge an inch though and I was afraid to move a finger, too. I only made a few small noises from time to time just to be sure he knew I'm still here.

We sat there for ten more minutes. Then thirty more minutes. Then I lost track of time. My head became heavy and I felt like I was about to fall asleep.

"I'll kill you if you keep coming here. I don't even care anymore."

His voice startled me. I looked to the side at him but his face was hidden from me. I didn't dare to say a word.

"So you do have a death wish? Do you think I'm joking?"

His voice was suddenly all calm and composed but it left no doubt that he wasn't joking. I never felt so much in danger in my whole life. I loved it.

"I don't hate you," I whispered.

"What did you say?" He turned to me and his face was more or less normal now.

"I don't hate you," I raised my voice just a little so that he could hear me, but it was trembling and there was no confidence in it whatsoever.

"You should. And you will if you keep stalking me."

"I'm not here to stalk you."

"I don't care why you're here. Any reason is equally bad."

I didn't say anything. I held my breath and moved my butt a few inches closer. I realised I must've been looking like a home abuse victim. Was I?

"If you lived through what I have lived, you would know I'm not joking," he said in the same, lifeless voice.

"I don't think you are joking," I said carefully. "And I haven't lived through anything yet. I can't even start to think what…"

"Then don't," he cut me off.

The night was silent. I looked at the moon. It was shining bright in the sky and the lake reflected its silver light. It would be a full moon in less than a week. Maybe fifteen minutes passed like that.

Then, Owen just stood up and fixed the sleeves of his long-sleeve. I flinched when he walked toward me, but then he just passed by without a word and walked back to the camp. It took me a while to shake up from my stupefaction but when I did, I got up and trotted after him, staying at a more or less safe distance.

Suddenly, he stopped and turned around abruptly. I stumbled and almost fell back on my butt. I had to support myself with my hands and the damaged one reminded me, making me squint in pain. Owen looked down on me with a pitiful smile and just left me there laying on the ground. I got back up and dusted myself off, cursing my jumpiness. This is good. I'm making progress, I convinced my mind silently but I was slowly feeling frustrated. I needed a release and it wasn't coming.

I expected Owen to rush right back to the cabin but instead, he joined the others by the campfire. Fourth day, fourth campfire. I didn't follow him but instead sneaked back into our cabin and to the bathroom to apply three patches, one for each of my sore and tender fingers. I looked at my reflection. Except for my face being a little red, there were no other traces of the dirt massage. I washed with cold water, fixed my hair, picked up a new t-shirt and rejoined the party. Owen and the teens were sticking to themselves and the adults were sitting close together too, drinking and laughing, except for Kevin's mum who was on the kid watch. Thankfully, she didn't choose to watch me too closely.

Kevin and Sarah gave me questioning looks.

"What?" I asked innocently. "I took a shower and lay down for a while."

Luckily, they weren't pressing.

They didn't say a word about telling each other scary stories either.

***

“So, you're still sure about it?” I asked Kevin when he was alone with me in the room. It was already late and we were changing for bed.

“Sure, why not,” he said, but I could hear his confidence had dimmed a bit.

“Cool. Is Sarah coming with you?”

He paused for a minute, seemingly busy with folding his jeans.

“She’s not coming, is she?” I asked with a slight smile.

He shrugged. “It doesn't matter. I can go alone. It's not far. But she and I had a nice talk if you know what I’m saying.”

I dropped my shorts and threw them on the floor, leaving only my briefs on. “Good for you! And if she doesn’t want to, I can go with you,” I said and sat on my bed.

Kevin turned his head to me and froze with his jeans in his hands. I saw him swallow. “You don't have to,” he said, sounding more like “please do!”

“I know I don’t have to, but I think it's a stupid idea and I don't want you to be by yourself when you see a frog and pee yourself.”

“It's not a stupid idea and I don't care if you come or not,” he said a little bit more firmly. He briefly showed me his bare butt when he put on his PJs, hopped on his bed and lay on his side, facing away from me. "Turn off the light when you go to sleep."

I slowly stood up and turned off the main light. Then, without a word, I walked to Kevin's bed and went under the cover with him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said as I cuddled him from behind. “I like this better than sleeping alone.”

I expected him to kick me out of the bed now but for some reason, he didn't.

“Okay, but I'm spooning you,” he said and turned around to face me. I turned around too and shortly felt him wrap his hands around me.