The sun was climbing by the time they stirred again, golden and thick as syrup pouring over the hills. The world outside the camper was waking up, chirps and rustling grass, warm wind slipping through the cracked front door.
They had moved here to cut their rent and relax, away from the troubles of the outside world. The Wave had undermined this - but returned the dream twofold. The frolicking couple had never felt so free in their lives.
Ren stretched first — a slow roll of hips and back, arching slightly as if still in the afterglow. “Sticky,” he muttered.
Cal cracked an eye open. “Good sticky, though.”
Ren smirked, nudging Cal with his forehead. “Best kind. But still gross. We need a rinse.”
They made their way out with practiced ease — backpacks nudged with feet, biting the straps and tugging them into place. Ren led the way barefoot, navigating the wild grass and dirt with a sway to his hips, his smooth shoulder brushing Cal’s as they moved downhill.
The river wasn’t far — a quiet stream that widened into a shallow pool, fed by melted snow from the ridge. It glittered in the sun like liquid sapphire, reeds swaying along the bank, dragonflies buzzing lazily overhead.
Ren stepped in first, teeth chattering at the cold. “Holy shit!”
Cal followed, wading in until the water kissed his thighs, then up, wrapping around his hips like a wet silk scarf. They gasped in unison, laughing at each other’s shivers.
“God, that hits different,” Cal breathed.
Ren turned, droplets sliding down his smooth chest, his soaked shorts clinging to every curve and ridge. “We look like a gay-ass shampoo commercial right now.”
Cal grinned, licking water from his lips. “Not even mad about it.”
They waded deeper, letting the river soak through the sweat and sex and sleeplessness. Cal bent at the waist, dunking his head, then whipped up with a shake, hair flopping over his eyes.
Ren stood still, water lapping just beneath his chest, breath shallow. “Hey, Cal?”
“Yeah?”
Ren leaned in, again using only his body, his mouth, his movement to connect. Their chests brushed. “Kiss me again.”
Cal obeyed.
Their lips met under open sky, steam rising from their bodies even in the cool water. The kiss was wetter now, deeper — a new hunger blooming in them. No urgency. Just need. Ren’s legs wrapped around Cal’s waist, thighs gripping tight, and Cal moaned softly, walking them backward toward a smoother rock shelf under the surface.
Both of them could feel, and see, their once-again throbbing cocks straining their soaked pants. The cold water could not quell their heat, however - it set them into another frenzy.
They pressed together, half-floating, half-standing, their hips locked, bodies moving in subtle, deliberate rolls. The water made everything slicker — cocks sliding under soaked fabric, nudging and rubbing with every motion.
Ren gasped into Cal’s mouth. “I can’t believe this is real.”
Cal kissed his chin, his throat. “Doesn’t have to be. Just let it feel good.”
They rocked together, water splashing softly with every gentle thrust. Cal’s lips traced the curve of Ren’s jaw, their bodies slippery and fluid, pressed tight with only the strength of their thighs and need keeping them locked.
Ren cried out when Cal nipped at his collarbone. The sound echoed across the trees, wild and free.
“Let go for me,” Cal whispered, licking into his mouth.
Ren did — cock twitching, legs clenching, heat flooding through him like wildfire under the cool stream. Cal wasn’t far behind, hips stuttering, his orgasm drawn out and slow, like the river itself — steady and full.
They collapsed against each other, hearts thudding in sync.
River water washed away the mess. But not the heat. Not the closeness. Not the soft nuzzles and after-kisses that lingered on their skin like sunlight.
Later, they lay in the grass, still wet, side by side, watching the clouds drift overhead.
“We’re definitely not going back to how we were before,” Ren said softly.
“Nope,” Cal agreed.
And neither of them wanted to.