Avoid it, do not travel on it; turn from it and go on your way.
Proverbs 4:15

J.T

Today: Thursday evening. Still third day of camp.

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I can't even begin to express how fucking relieved I am when I hear Brian's feet padding across the small expanse of floor and then the weight of his body on my bed. So, so, SO relieved. I let out a huge sigh of relief and happiness for extra affect. In the dark, Brian laughs at me, low and quiet. I love his laugh – especially when he's horny. It's all…husky and deep and sexy. I reach up as his body hovers over mine and thrust my hands in his hair and bring his lips down to meet mine. I also love his hair, love grabbing it, and love his hands 'cause his hands are, as I've sad so many times before, beautiful. And gentle as they slip up inside my shirt.

I love his mouth and the way if feels devouring me. Or when he just smiles. I love his smile. His 'I'm sexy and you and I both know it' smile. My hands slide away from his head and down his back to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up over his head. Then my hands are splayed across the skin of his back. I love his skin; it's so impossibly smooth despite the scars and scratches decorating it. His tongue slides into my mouth to meet mine and I realize that I love his tongue too. I love the way it feels sliding across my skin and invading my mouth. I love everything about Brian Kinney. I wonder if it's possible to actually love someone in the time span of just a few days.

He sighs into my mouth and I know it is possible.

Because I'm in fucking deep, DEEP love with him.

And I don't think there's a way out. That's how deep.

My shirt is pulled up over my head and his lips slide away from my own, now swollen and bruised from his ferocity, and slide down the flushed skin of my chest, teeth biting my tender skin. I mark easily so I can only imagine how many hickies he's leaving on me right now. With my luck, we'll be swimming tomorrow and everyone will see and wonder and things might slowly being to fall into place. Shit, I hope that doesn't happen. My worries are kicked away when Brian's fingers tug on my pants. I lift my hips up off the bed automatically and they're quickly pulled off and thrown to the floor carelessly.

He's on top of me again. He has too much clothes on.

His pants need to go.

"Take them off,"

I ram my hips purposely against his.

"I want to feel you so bad."

His lips lift off my skin; he grins, and complies, hurriedly pulling off his pants to reveal himself in all his perfectbeautifulhotwonderful naked glory. He crawls back over me and sucks on my throat, mouth moving and tongue teasing into the hollow of said throat. I tilt my head back allowing him to do more of his sinful acts to my throat. It feels good – better than I could have imagined. I mean, it's only my throat. He dips his tongue into my hollow again and I don't even try to suppress the moan that streams out of my mouth. Then he stops all lip/tongue action and moves back so that he's sitting between my legs.

"Sit up."

His voice is low but very controlling. I do as he asks and sit cross-legged in front of him and wait for his next command. "Get on your hands and knees." His commanding is a major turn on for me and I quickly do what he says. My dick is painfully hard right now and, if I hope to get any release soon, then I need to do exactly what he says without any mistakes. Feeling slightly nervous all of the sudden, I turn around and place myself on my hands and knees like he ordered. I feel oddly…vulnerable? Displayed? I don't know what the right word is. Maybe embarrassed showing myself to him like this?

I don't know why I would be though.

So I push the feeling away and the feel of Brian on his knees right behind me, cock teasing my ass, and his hand sliding down my spine help push it away until it's nonexistent. I push back against him impatiently and it earns me a slightly hard slap on my right cheek. The tingling pain quickly dissolves and turns into pleasure more than anything. "Be patient." God, I'm dying here, his extremely hot show of dominance is getting to my dick. A lot. I groan and tell my body to obey and not move, however, that's hard when the god behind you has his dick right there. His hands proceed to travel back up my spine, over my shoulders, and then down my sides coming closer and closer to my ass.

My body jerks back against him again but I can't help it. His hand slaps down across my ass again and the tingling pain slowly turns into pleasure and makes my dick, if this is even possible, harder. "What'd I say, Taylor?" I don't answer. I'm not aware that I'm even supposed to answer him. I hang my head and concentrate on keeping my breathing steady and, also, on not jerking back against him like that. He suddenly slaps me again and a strangled moan is yanked out of my mouth in response. "Justin, I asked you a question. Answer me." Oh fucking god. I'm going to fucking cum if he doesn't cut the act soon and fuck me. Hard.

"Y-you said to be…"

I let out a long breath. His hand coming around my hips and stroking my dick make it extremely hard to answer anything. He slaps me again with his free hand and I moan out, which I'm not sure I'm even allowed to do but, if I'm not, he gives me mercy and doesn't slap me. "I said to be what?" I let out a shaky breath, my skin becoming raw where he has slapped me repeatedly, and force my mouth to answer him. "Patient." He leans forward, chest resting just slightly across my back, dick teasing my ass even more, and his mouth hovering near my ear, breath giving me goose bumps. "Good boy." He tugs my dick a few times before releasing it and, still, leaving me unsatisfied.

His hand gently caresses the freshly-slapped and extremely tender skin of my ass and his fingers slowly stroke. I can hear the smirk in his voice. "Did you like that, Taylor? Did you like being spanked?" I let out a inaudible yes. It's on accident. But I can hardly breathe and he expects me to talk normal? I don't think so. But, it earns me a hard slap across my very tender skin anyway. I let out a strangled moan/cry and grip the sheets beneath my fingers. I'm surprised I haven't collapsed from being extremely horny with no release. "Louder." I nod, draw in a deep breath, and, "Y-yes." It must be loud enough for him because he begins caressing the raw skin again under the gentle pads of his fingers.

"Did it hurt?"

"Yeah…"

"Did it feel good, Justin?"

"Y-yes…"

My voice gets slightly quieter but, I guess, not too quiet because he doesn't spank me. "Does it make you hard?" Yes, very, very hard. I answer but, again, it's almost inaudible. This time he spanks me on the other cheek. The one that hasn't even been touched yet. A new round of pain and pleasure travel towards my leaking cock. I clench tighter to the bed sheets and realize that my body is shaking. He better hurry before I die. I can only imagine the headline in the newspaper tomorrow morning. "Young Man Dies of Horniness": talk about embarrassing. "I said louder."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, yes, it makes me hard."

His hand begins caressing again.

"What makes you hard?"

He's milking this for all it's worth. I'm never letting him do this again. Ok, I'd probably do anything that he asked of me because he's…Brian. "Y-you…spanking me." His fingers grab the hair in the back of my head and he's leaning over me again. He pulls my head back and forces his lips against mine in a long, searing, and bruising kiss that I'll probably never forget. A kiss that'll probably make me hard just by thinking about it when I'm bored. He pulls back, both of us breathing hard, and both our lips extremely swollen. He smiles a small smile at me. "Good boy. You're a good listener." He pulls back again and I feel him get up off the bed. I start to move and maybe sit down but his hand is suddenly colliding with my ass again.

"I didn't tell you to move."

Or I'll just stay like this, on all fours. I feel him get on the bed again a few moments later and I know he had gotten a condom and his lube. I had heard the rustling noise of the fabric of his pants. I hear the condom package rip open and a small grunt as he puts it on. I wish I could look back at him, watch him, I love watching him prepare me with his fingers. I love watching him period. I listen as the lube is opened and wait impatiently as he spreads it on his fingers, warms it up, and places one of his hands on the base of my spine. The index finger of his other hand moves around my hole, teasing me. I bite my bottom lip, hard, and tell myself not to move, although, the prospect of getting slapped might make me change my mind.

The whole spanking thing is extremely hot.

His finger invades and my breath hitches. He quickly stills and lets me adjust to the sensation. His middle finger is next, slowly inching inside. I bite my lip harder to keep from saying something. He hasn't told me I can speak so I won't. Then a third finger and I'm biting my lip so hard I taste blood. Fuck, I'm hurting myself. I don't release my lip though. For some reason I can't. His fingers suddenly scissor inside me and I can't suppress the gaspy cry that slides out of my mouth. He doesn't spank me. Instead, he pulls his fingers out and he leaves me painfully empty. Then he's kneeling right behind me again, fingers curling into my hips and, with a grunt, he shoves forward and eases himself inside of me.

"Yesss…"

One of his hands slides up my spine and grabs the hair at the back of my head again, yanks my head back, and begins thrusting for all it's worth as he forces his lips against mine. His hand is gripping my hip in a painful but pleasurable grip as he speeds up the process, balls slapping against my ass and his dick pumping against my prostate in a different pattern every thrust. I'm fucking dizzy with everything that's going on. My back arches against his chest, my fingers curl painfully tight into the sheets, his teeth bite down into my shoulder and I'm coming, a shaky mess beneath him. A few more thrusts and he's next, collapsing on top of me. I quickly fall on my stomach and bury my face in my pillow. God – that had been…hot. He should play commando more often.

A few moments later he slides out of me and the condom is thrown away somewhere, hopefully somewhere that Marcus won't see when he wakes us up in the morning, and he stays on my back a few minutes more, breathing slowing back down to normal in my ear. I almost ask him to stay. I almost tell him that I don't care if we're caught. I just want him to stay in bed with me but I don't because that would be stupid and, when he lifts up off of me, I ignore the abandoned feeling in the pit of my stomach. I get off my bed too but only to change the sheets since I just came all over them. Good thing I brought some sheets from home. I hadn't known the beds were already going to have sheets.

I change them and I can feel Brian's eyes on me as I do.

"How's your ass?"

I grin at him over my shoulder.

"Sore. You're brutal."

"You liked it, whiner."

He comes up behind me, arms wrapping around me, and kisses me on the side of the neck. Then he pulls away and settles himself in his own bed. "I did." He says he knew it and I tuck myself in under my blankets and stare up at the ceiling and listen to Brian's steady breathing. I look over at his bed but I can't see him. The moon isn't out tonight so it isn't providing any light in the cabin. So, I stare into darkness.

"Brian?"

"Hmm…"

He sounds groggy, tired and half asleep. I draw in a deep, fearful breath.

"I-I think I love you."

He doesn't say anything and, for some reason, I hadn't expected him to.

B. K

Today: Thursday. Fourth day of camp.

He told me he loved me.

After he said that last night I hadn't been able to sleep. Hell, I didn't even close my eyes. "I-I think I love you." That was too busy ringing shrilly in my ears. I didn't say anything and if he cared about my silence he didn't say that he did. About ten minutes later I heard his breath slow, deep, and steady and I knew he was asleep. He told me he loved me. What am I supposed to do? Love is…such a strong word. Love isn't something I've ever been familiar with. The only love I know is the love that I see when I'm at home, which is usually slaps across the face and other abusive acts.

I look over at the window as the sun slowly rises and then down at the blond who's still fast asleep. His hair's a complete mess, flying in all directions, and his chest is revealed to have hundreds of hickies I must have left there last night. His blanket just barley covers his narrow hips. My eyes travel back up to his face; his lips that are still bruised from last nights extremely hot activities. He had been so hot, listening to me, shaking beneath me. It had been to watch to see his skin go from pale to pink under the palm of my hands. I shake my head and look up at the ceiling.

"Brian, I-I think I love with you…"

I curse under my breath and ram the heels of my hands against my eyes. I ease out of bed, take a shower, and get dressed as quietly as possible so he doesn't wake up. He doesn't and I look over at the clock. Marcus will be here in about ten minutes to wake us up. Still feeling shocked and confused, I hurry out of the cabin and head towards the dining hall. There are other people awake too. I pass Marcus on the way there and he politely offers me a greeting. I only nod. "I-I think I love with you." I tell my head to shut the fuck up. I don't want to think about it anymore but…I can't stop. His timid, slightly fearful, voice rings loud in my ears and I don't know what to do except sit at a table I usually don't sit at with people I usually don't sit with and hope that the seat in front of me is taken so he won't be able to sit with me today.

Love. Love. Love. Love.

I've never loved anyone before. I've never even loved any of my relatives and with good reason. I wasn't even aware that I could love? So, do I love Justin Taylor? Can I even think about loving another human being? For God's sake, I can't even think about loving a fucking dog! Justin Taylor. When I think about him I feel…different. I'm not even about to say that I feel fucking fuzzy because, no, that's not a word I use. But I feel…fine, I feel fucking fuzzy when I'm around him, when I'm fucking him, when I'm kissing him, when I'm thinking about him…when I'm anythinging him. Fuck – now I'm making up words. Someone sits in front of me and the last spot is taken.

Ten minutes later when Justin walks in I avoid his hurt and confused stare.

And I ignore the sick feeling I feel when he sits alone.

J.T

This is my fault.

I shouldn't have told him how I felt. I'm such a fucking idiot. I look away from him and quickly sit down at our, my, normal table and act as if I'm not hurt by his abandoning me and making me sit alone. I try not to look over at him while I eat but I do anyway. Once I even met his gaze. He quickly looks away though and I feel a sick, hurt feeling inside of me. I eat faster so I can get out of the dining room and then hurry out of there like a bat out of hell. I practically run all the way back to the cabin, suddenly feeling like I want to cry. So, I do and pray that Brian doesn't come back and see me.

Once I calm myself down, Brian hasn't even made an appearance; I look down at the paper with the schedule for Thursday on it. We have free time until twelve. That's…hours from now. It's only nine now. I fold the schedule and shove it in the pocket of my jeans. Then I head out. Brian's nowhere to be seen. At first anyway. When I first see him he's by the lake with a few other people. He isn't really talking to them but he is standing with them, basically, following them around. When he sees me he quickly looks away and does everything in his power to act like I'm not there.

To put it lightly:

…I feel like total shit.