Hayden’s eyes are squeezed shut, his chest heaving with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his hand still clutching a fistful of my hair. Gay sex Then the weight. I peek out first, and Brendan’s tent is zipped up tight: no movement, no light. His expression is indiscernible, but his voice is tight. “Do you regret it? “Can I ask you something?”Brendan doesn’t look up right away. Like we’re all still figuring out how to hold what’s left. Good.We step out into the cold morning air. The muscle in his jaw twitches. I watch him, the light blue nylon of his Eddie Bauer puffer jacket stark against the dark blue throw, and I feel a smug satisfaction at having brought him to such a height of pleasure right out here in the open.Just as I lean in again, running my hand slowly down the slick nylon of Hayden’s jacket, a faint sound cracks through the quiet—something sharp, like a branch snapping underfoot. Like we’re both waiting to see which way the wind will shift.Every now and then, I glance up toward the trees where Brendan disappeared. I thought we were better friends than that.”The weight of his words settles over us, heavier than our backpacks.
