The last rays of sun dipped behind the pines as Ren and Cal reached their tent, breathless and smirking, still riding the high from their downtown debut. The path was dusty, warm, and every step pressed their slick thighs together through too-tight shorts. They didn’t say much. They didn’t have to.
Once inside the tent, the zipper half-stuck from earlier adventures, they flopped onto the soft chaos of sleeping bags and crumpled clothes, tangled limbs and bodies sliding together in the heat. Outside, cicadas buzzed. A breeze stirred the nylon walls. But in here? Everything was thick with tension.
Ren bit his lower lip and rolled onto his side, pressing his thigh between Cal’s legs. “So,” he purred, “about earlier…”
Cal hummed, already half-hard again from the closeness alone. “Which part?”
“The alley.” Ren kissed his collarbone. “The looks.”
“Or the part where I wanted to pull your shorts off with my teeth right there in front of the mango stand?”
Ren shivered. “That part.”
They laughed, low and breathless, hips nudging, lips brushing.
Ren’s eyes dropped toward Cal’s pack near the edge of the tent. “Bet you’re not brave enough for a dare.”
Cal raised a brow. “Oh?”
“I want you to tie me up,” Ren said, voice a whisper-soft challenge. “Sleeping bag and your belt. I wanna see how creative you can get without your hands.”
Cal’s cock twitched. He leaned in, all lips and teeth at Ren’s ear. “You sure?”
Ren nodded, flushed and eager. “Fuck yes.”
Cal’s belt came off with a tug of his teeth. He nudged Ren gently until he rolled onto his back, stretching, trusting. Cal used the belt like a loop, wrapping it around Ren’s thighs, pulling them together, pinning him beautifully open. He nosed the sleeping bag around Ren’s upper half, tucking it around his sides, locking his shoulders into a snug embrace of fabric.
No arms. No escape. Just heat, restraint, and anticipation.
Cal climbed over him, caging Ren with his knees. “You’re mine like this.”
Ren’s chest rose in a shaky breath. “Take me.”
Cal did.
He slid Ren’s shorts down with practiced nudges of his chin and lips, tongue tracing the trail of heat from navel to cock, already dripping from nothing but pressure and restraint. Ren moaned, bound and twitching, unable to move or touch or do anything but feel.
Cal teased—slow strokes of tongue, kisses up the inner thigh, hot breath puffing over sensitive skin. He dragged it out, until Ren’s hips bucked and his eyes begged, until every nerve in his body was humming.
When Cal finally took him into his mouth, it was deep and eager, all lips and tongue, no hesitation. Ren cried out, body arching as much as the sleeping bag allowed, thighs clenching under the tight belt. Cal sucked him until he was nearly undone—then stopped.
Ren growled. “You bastard.”
Cal grinned, moving up to kiss him, his own cock rubbing hot and thick against Ren’s belly. “Say please.”
“Please,” Ren gasped.
Cal didn’t hold back after that. They rocked together, breath ragged, lips mashed, their skin slick with sweat. The sleeping bag crinkled under them, belt cinched tight, moans muffled by open mouths. When they came, they came together—a drawn-out, grinding, twitching mess of muscle and moans, shaking with release.
After, Cal nuzzled Ren’s throat as he undid the belt with his chin, slowly unwinding the sleeping bag. Ren let out a long, blissed-out sigh.
“You okay?” Cal asked softly.
Ren smiled, eyes hazy. “You’re never allowed to have arms again.”
They laughed again, too warm, too in love to care about anything else.
Outside, a small campfire crackled to life, its glow casting golden shapes on the tent. They sat on a blanket, wrapped in a loose sleeping bag, shoulders pressed together, cheeks still pink.
Ren poked at the fire with his foot. “Crazy, huh? A month ago we couldn’t even look at each other without flinching.”
Cal looked into the flames, then at Ren. “You remember that first night? After the Wave?”
Ren nodded slowly. “I couldn’t even open the can of soup.”
Cal chuckled. “You were too proud to ask.”
“So you opened it with your teeth. Cut your damn lip.”
They both went quiet, thinking of the hotel room that wasn’t theirs. The broken mirror. The clothes that didn’t fit anymore. The fear. The shame. How they slept back-to-back that night, not touching, barely breathing.
“I thought I lost everything,” Ren whispered.
“You didn’t,” Cal said. “You found me.”
Ren leaned in. Cal met him halfway.
Their kiss wasn’t hot, or dirty, or rushed. It was slow. Tender. Lips moving like a promise. A thank you. A home.
They curled up in the sleeping bag, tangled legs, no arms needed, fire crackling beside them.
And for the first time since the Fusion Wave, they fell asleep smiling.