15 How beautiful you are, my darling!
Oh, how beautiful!
Song of Solomon. Ch. 1 – Vs 15

J.T


Today: Tuesday – First day if camp.

I'm all packed and ready to go on this trip. And get it fucking over with. Then I remember that a certain "face of God" is going on the trip too and my spirits are suddenly lifted. At least I'll have something extremely nice to look at the entire time and someone fun to talk to. Yawning, I was forced to wake up at four this morning to make it to the bus on time, I get out of my moms car. "Have a good time, Sweetie." I roll my eyes. "I'm sure I will. Church camp is something I've been lookin' forward to forever." She ignores my sarcasm.

"Make sure you call as soon as you get there so I know you're safe."

"I already said I would, mom."

"Make sure to drink lots of-"

"Water. Got it. I'm seventeen. I'll be fine. I'm sure God will protect me too."

She narrows her eyes at me. Whenever I make a crack like that she gets all 'narrowed-eyed' and pissy. I smile softly at her. I owe her this much. "Love you, mom." Her narrowed eyes immediately become normal, soft and maybe slightly teary. I hate it when she cries. Especially over stupid things like this. "I love you too, honey. Be safe." I nod and tell her that I'll be safe. I grab my bags out of the backseat, shut the door and she drives off, a few tears running down her face. Mothers and their 'unable to let go' tendencies.

Taking a deep breath, I sling a few of my bags over my shoulders and head towards the large charter bus sitting in front of the church. A bunch of other teens are already there talking amongst themselves. Probably about church group and how they can kill all the homosexuals in the universe so they can make the world a better and cleaner place. I scowl at the thought and shove past them not bothering to say sorry for bumping into them and sit down on a bench several feet away from all the church lovers. Fuck them. I set all my luggage down at my feet and then pull my knees to my chest. My arms wrap around my legs and my chin rests on my knees.

I anxiously wait for Brian.

I haven't seen him since Sunday. That was two fucking days ago.

"Hey, Taylor."

I don't know what happened but I think I fell asleep with my head on knees because my eyes had been closed and I hadn't heard or noticed anyone coming over to the bench I was sitting on. Startled slightly, my head shoots up off my knees and my unfocused eyes look at the blob standing in front of me. The tall blob that must be Brian. My stomach gives me a few somersaults and my heart beats a little faster. My cheeks also start to heat up and I know they're turning pink. I'm thankful that it's so early that it's still dark out. As soon as my eyes focus I beam up at him.

"Brian!"

God. I probably sounded so stupid. And looked stupid. I immediately subdue my smile as to not seem so excited to see him even though it's too late for that. He smiles amusedly down at me and settles down next to me. "Mind if I sit here?" I raise an eyebrow. "You're already sitting so why bother asking?" Yes, you can sit there you fucker. He grins and makes himself comfortable, his feet propped up on his bags, which lay down on the ground next to mine. "I'll take that as a yes." I smile and nod.

"Yeah."

I am a fucking dork.

I'm smiling like an idiot and…yeah. Dork.

"Excited for camp?"

I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, that'll be the day."

"You know…we could run. Right now. Just skip this fucking camp thing."

Part of me wants to tell him 'yes, please take me with you' but I shake my head, letting a laugh slide out of my lips. He can't be serious anyway. "We don't have any money." He smirks. "We can sell ourselves on the street. I hear they make good money." I wrinkle my nose in disgust and shake my head. "Gross. I'd rather not sell my body to gross, dirty, old me-" I suddenly stop talking. Fuck. I wasn't supposed to practically blurt out that I'm gay! Now he'll probably run off afraid that I have some crush on him, even though I do but that's beside the point, and tell everyone that there's a fag in their midst.

I look away from him, teeth gnawing on my bottom lip again. Fuck.

B.K

He's asleep.

How the fuck does one fall asleep on a hard, uncomfortable bench in that position? I smirk down at the blond head and set my things down on the ground. When he wakens I almost pounce on him and fuck him right here on this bench. That'd be hot. He looks so fucking eatable right now. How does one manage to look so good this early in the morning? I don't know but what I do know is that I'm going to make this blond mine before this camp weeks over. I'm going to fuck him everywhere at camp. Christen every fucking thing at the campsite. I'm sure God will love it.

And then he does that thing with his nose.

He wrinkles it and it's…cute I will grudgingly admit.

"Gross. I'd rather not sell my body to gross, dirty, old me-"

He notices his slip up. He's probably freaking out right now. I grin and slouch down on the bench, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Not all of them are old, dirty and gross. I'm sure there are some young, hot studs just waitin' for a hot blond with a nice ass." He looks over at me, unsure look on his face and, even in the dark, I can see his cheeks are as red as can be. He looks slightly shocked now as if what I said had just registered and then he's looking away again. Probably to hide his darkening cheeks. I chuckle and look over towards the bus where the Sunday school teacher from Sunday – Someone called him Marcus – stood next to the large bus with a clipboard in hand.

"We should probably go over there now. Looks like he's taking roll."

In a flash the two of us are standing in front of Marcus with all our bags in tow. "Brian Kinney." I nod and Marcus flashes me a quick, warm smile. I don't offer him one back. "Do you have a partner, Brian? A friend who you'll be assigned to bunk with, eat with, and do everything with for the week?" I smirk. Maybe camp wouldn't be so bad after all. I quickly nod and bump casually into Justin next to me. "Yeah, Justin Taylor." Marcus obviously remembers the disturbance on Sunday from said blond. Brian can tell by the troubled look on the man's face. Marcus just nods, though, and writes it down on the clipboard.

"Ok, get in the bus. All the way to the back guys."

We leave our bags outside as instructed so Marcus can haul them into the chambers under the bus and I lead Justin and me into the bus. We head all the way to the back like Marcus told us too. "You want the window seat?" Justin shrugs and then nods. I could really care or less about where I sit. As soon as he's seated I sit down next to him with a small smile. He's still not speaking to me and his cheeks are still a dark shade of pink and I may be forced to fuck him right here on the bus with him looking all flushed like that. I nudge my shoulder against his to get his attention. It works.

He stares over at me timidly, teeth tugging at his bottom lip again.

I hate it when he does that. Only because it draws attention to his lips, which is really fucking annoying when you're using all your self-control to not lunge at him in front of all these Bible thumpers. "Are you ok?" He quickly nods, furiously so that his hair flies out in different directions. It looks like he's trying to convince more then just me. Probably himself. I grin and shrug. "Whatever you say." He looks away again and out the window. I hope he's not this silent the entire trip or I may have to strangle him. The only reason I had been looking forward to this trip is because he is on it and now he's being quiet.

A few minutes after the bus starts I glance over at him. His breathing has slowed and evened out into a steady rhythm that's kind of calming. He's fallen asleep but I don't understand how anyone could fall asleep with their face pressed up against glass like that. "Justin." I place a hand on his shoulder and shake him awake while my other hand folds the armrest between us up and out of the way. His face, eyes still closed, turns towards me. "What?" He sounds hot, all drowsy and husky like that. "Here." I thrust the pillow at him that I brought with me on board. I watch as he folds himself up into a tight ball, mesmerized at how he can fit himself all up in the seat like that.

His knees are folded against his chest with the pillow held in his arms. He's half-asleep while doing all of this too, which makes me all the more intrigued. His head tilts back on the seat in another uncomfortable position and I take advantage of his sleepiness by pulling his head over onto my shoulder, my arm across his shoulders. I recline both our seats and I rest my head on top of his, his hair tickling my chin but I don't dare move and maybe wake him, and quickly fall asleep. Good thing everyone on the bus thinks we're straight or they'd get the right impression of why my arm's around him.

J.T

When I wake up I'm slightly confused. I don't remember digging my face into Brian's chest. He must've reclined our seats back at some point – God bless the fucking awesome charter buses – and let me get comfortable on him. Then I remember. Brian's gay. Well, that's what he had pretty much implied this morning. He had said I had a nice ass anyway, which was a great compliment. I took great pride in my ass. I smile slightly and close my eyes again, breathing in deep the familiar smell of Brian. The hand resting on his clothed stomach curls into the fabric. It's then that I remember we're on a bus with other people who might get the wrong/right idea about this scene.

My eyes fly open and I yank my head off of Brian's still sleeping body.

My abrupt moment causes him to awaken slightly though. I let out a sigh of relief when I realize no one's even paying attention to us. Some of the other kids are sleeping too, heads nestled against each other. So maybe we hadn't looked that odd sleeping next to each other like that. Relaxing slightly, I rest my head back on Brian's chest, fingers curling back into the fabric of his shirt again. I feel Brian's arm tighten around my form and his own fingers grip tightly to the back of my neck, fingers beginning to knead against my skin in a slow massage before they trail upwards into my hair where they begin to play with it.

I let out a long, content sigh and snuggle – What the fuck am I doing snuggling against another male on a bus full of fag haters? - against his body. I still feel extremely drowsy and so I blame my actions on that. Then I think about something else. Wouldn't it look odd to anyone if they looked back here and saw Brian playing with my hair? Straight guys don't play with other straight guy's hair! I slowly lift myself away from him, positioning my chair upright again and rub my tired eyes. "Good afternoon, princess." I roll my eyes over at Brian. Princess? As if. Ok, I'm not exactly a masculine male but…ok. Fine. Princess it is.

"Are we almost there?"

I watch Brian as he swings his seat upright again. He raises an eyebrow up at me. "Do I look like the bus driver to you?" I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. "I was just asking. No need to unleash the sarcasm." He smirks and stretches his arms over his head. I quickly look out the window to avoid looking at the patch of skin on his taut stomach that was revealed as he did so. And the trail of dark hairs teasing into his jeans. Fucktard. He so knows what he's doing. He lets out a loud yawn and I continue to stare out the window.

"Fine, I'll go ask since it's so important to you and because Marcus hates you."

I grin. "He doesn't hate me. That would be a sin." He snorts, doesn't reply, and gets up out of his seat, long limbs stretching before heading down to the front of the bus. The first thing I notice as he walks away is: damn, his pants are fucking tight. I tell my eyes not to stare at his ass as he strides confidently down the aisle towards Marcus but they don't listen. Oh, they stare long and hard. It's only when Brian's done talking to Marcus and he's turning around do I look away and return my gaze to the window and look at the passing scenery. I look over when I hear him sit down next to me again.

"So?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"So what?"

"So, are we almost there?"

He's being difficult on purpose – fucker. He grins.

"Oh, that. Yeah. We'll be there in half an hour."

"That's not 'almost there'!"

I realize I'm whining but my ass hurts from sitting so long. He rolls his eyes, smirking at me. "You're such a whiner." I cross my arms over my chest and…pout. "I'm not a whiner. I'm just tired of sitting." He looks at me still clearly amused. "You are too and if you're so tired of sitting then the most logical thing to do would be to stand up." He has a very valid point. Why hadn't I thought about that myself? Not replying, I throw the pillow I'm holding at him and stand up, stretching and I groan; content. My entire body is sore but it immediately subsides as I stretch my arms above my head as far as they'll go and stretch every other muscle in my body. Everything would've been fine too if the bus hadn't suddenly gone over a huge bump, which, in turn, causes the entire bus to jolt forward.

That causes me to fall over.

On Brian's lap, which, I'll admit, I don't mind.

And I didn't go down quietly either. My mouth had let out a loud yelp in the process, which caused everyone to look to the back of the bus and at the clumsy blond kid. I wonder what they're all thinking when they see me with my arm draped across Brian's shoulders and my ass sitting in his lap, one of Brian's arms around my waist. It had kept me from falling backwards and doing a backwards somersault off of his lap and onto the aisle of the bus. A few kids roll their eyes, others laugh, and Marcus shakes his head, which clearly shows his dislike for me. I scowl but my scowl is quickly turned into a smile at Brian's voice.

"You're such a disruption."

"I didn't fall on purpose."

Though…I probably would have at some point.

"I bet."

His answer causes my cheeks to go into 'Turning Pink' mode and I quickly pick myself up off his lap, tripping over my own feet, and then proceeding to fall into my own seat. By the time I'm situated correctly in my seat he's laughing at me. I roll my eyes and shoot him a 'Ha, ha not very funny' look. "Shut up, Brian!" He quickly clamps his mouth shut, amusement showing loud and clear on his face and in his eyes. I roll my own eyes again but smile slightly. I'm about to say something until, quite suddenly, the teens who are in the church choir bust out in song.

I hate 'Amazing Grace' too.

And Brian and I have to deal with their songs until we pull up in front of the camp.