Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Thanks to Richard for the edit
"I will kill you." The unmistakable sound of a shot gun being cocked rang through the small room.
"You don't have it in you."
I shot up in bed, breathing hard. I glanced around, still dazed from sleep and my eyes landed on Reed. Resting peacefully, he had a small smile on his perfect face, right next to me. Something about seeing that, a thing I usually loved, pissed me off. I got up and left the room.
I stood in the kitchen for a while, alternating between pacing and sitting on the floor. I felt insane; I felt wrong and stupid and hurt. I leaned against the island, brought my knees up to my chest, and wrapped my arms around them. I felt small and stupid, sitting there in my boxers, with tears begging to be free. I dropped my head to my knees and let them come; I didn't want to hide them anymore and I didn't want to push them back every time they came up.
"Camble?" My eyes shot up to the ceiling, knowing Reed was still in our room, calling for me. It made me cry harder. He needed me, needed me to be strong and constant, and here I was on the kitchen floor crying because I was scared.
"Just getting some water," I called back, hoping that would keep him in bed. I stood slowly and went to the cabinet to get a glass. I stood at the sink, letting the cold tap run before I put my face close to the faucet and splashed my face with the cool water. "Get it together Camble; he isn't coming back; ten years in jail means ten years in jail."
"What?" I turned, almost dropping the glass, and found Reed standing at the kitchen door. He looked so cute, too; rubbing his eyes and leaning up against the door frame. His hair was getting longer and the ends where curling, framing his pale face. His eyes were hooded with sleep still, but they were sparkling like always.
"What?" I asked back, hoping he was still just waking up and didn't hear what I'd said.
"Who's in jail?" he asked and walked toward me. I backed up against the sink, not knowing what to expect. But, in true Reed fashion, he laid his body against mine and snuggled up with one of his hands holding onto my shoulder and the other limp at his side. I needed that.
"Um, Rick," I said.
"What?" he asked again, leaning his head all the way back to look up into my eyes. "Why?" I didn't know how to answer that. "Because he hit you? He went to jail for it?"
"Because he almost killed me," I said, hoping one day I'd be able to tell him the whole story.
"I'm sorry, Camble," Reed said, and hugged me closer.
"Don't be sorry; it wasn't your fault," I said, and wrapped my arms him.
"Yeah, but I'm still sorry you went through something like that; it isn't fair." Reed pulled away from me and raised the shirt he was wearing to wipe my face; I hadn't realized it was still wet. Then he grabbed the glass from my hand and filled it with water before turning the tap off. "Come on," he said, pulling my hand to follow him. I smiled and went up the stairs with him. I honestly don't know how I got someone like Reed, but I knew I'd do whatever I could to keep him.
I had just gotten off work and I was supposed to meet Camble at the end of Grape and Main Street so we could walk home together. After that weekend with Wes, Camble had pretty much not left my side, and I loved it.
That was the weekend I found out how jealous Camble could be. I always kind of suspected he was, from the way he talked about wanting me to be his. I know it was a possessive thing to say, but I did want to be his and he mine.
Wes talked us into going a few towns over where they had a whole strip of bars and clubs. We had started at one end, and worked our way down. The last one on the strip was a gay bar. Camble had been reluctant to go in, saying someone was going to try and take me from him. I told him to stop being silly.
We got in and were walking around, looking for a place to dance, when a really hairy topless man grabbed my ass. I gasped, surprised, and turned around to find him smiling at me.
"Want to go home with me, little twink?" Little? Twink? I'm not a twink! Right?
"He's spoken for," Camble growled, moving me behind him.
"I was just having fun; we could always take him back to my place and make a twink sandwich." The guy's hand moved out to brush my face, making me jerk back, and I knocked into Wes, who in turn moved me behind him also. Once the baby, always the baby, I guess.
"Don't touch him," I'd never heard Camble's voice so harsh. To tell you the truth, it was making me really hot.
"Honey, you need to teach me your tricks, you've got this one wrapped around your little finger," the hairy man informed me. 'It's the other way around' I thought. He walked away but not before saying: "Your twink looks like a whore, anyway," to Camble.
Basically, it ended with Camble breaking the guy's nose, while Wes and I got the car. The three of us drove back home laughing our asses off. Camble had pulled me from the backseat to sit on his lap in the front seat, my back against the door.
"You don't look like a whore baby; maybe a little twinkish, but not a whore," he said, nuzzling my neck. I really need to look that word up in the gay dictionary.
"Yeah, yeah," I said, and laid my head against the window, barely controlling the urge to rape him in front of my brother.
"Reed, look what I got for you." Camble came jogging toward me, holding up a bright blue cell phone, and breaking me out of my trance. I hadn't even realized I'd made it to our meeting spot.
"Is that new?" I asked, handing the books I was carrying to his waiting hand and took the phone from him. I had picked up a new copy of Wuthering Heights, so that he would also get the joke about the house. It was an abridged copy, because sometimes it's hard to understand. And I got this really huge book about hot rod cars he had been looking at the last time he came to visit me for lunch.
Yes, my man came and brought me lunch. The first time he did it, I had to go into the back room so he wouldn't see my blush, it made me so happy. I never even told him about what Brad had said that day, or about Brad period, and how I felt like a failure because of it. He just did it, which made it twelve times better.
"Yeah; it matches your couch," he said, laughing at the face I made. "You always complain how it never goes with anything so I got you this to fix it." He was too sweet. "Plus, I like the fact that I can call you whenever I want now," and kind of selfish, but I wouldn't hold that against him.
"Thank you, Camble."
I leaned into him waiting for my kiss; when none came after a second I looked up to find him staring at something behind me. I turn to look, but there wasn't anything there except a few kids on bikes and an old couple taking a walk. When I looked back at him, a question on my face, he gave me a kiss.
"Let's go home, okay?" I love that he called it home; like it was really his place too. John had called and told me about Rhonda and Camble fighting over her wanting him to move in with me. So I showed up one day when he was at work, and packed up a bunch of his clothes; making the decision for the both of them. Rhonda had laughed, and Camble was somewhat angry that she had won, but soon forgot about it once I pointed out that we would be sharing a bed every night if he lived with me.
"Yes, let's," I cooed and snuggled into his shoulder as he put his arm around me. Our town is so small; the use of a car would be redundant. I had grown up here; if I needed to go out I took the bus or, if it was too late, I called Wes. Camble had an older truck he'd gotten from Mac for his sixteenth birthday, so he drove us if were going out somewhere far away. I loved these walks, though, when we got off work at the same time and could walk the five blocks back to our house together.
"What are you thinking about, baby?" Camble asked, smoothing my hair from my face so he could see my eyes.
"About how much I like walking with you; it makes me all mushy inside," I said honestly.
He laughed and kissed me. "You're such a sap."
I giggled happily; I liked being a sap.
"You're my sap though, right?"
"Yup, all yours; you're stuck with me."
"Camble, I want you to meet my mom and dad."
I usually always had the weekend off, and he had it off this week, too, so it would be the perfect time. We could go down, spend a few days there, and then come back late Sunday night. Neither of us went to work until after noon on Monday.
"Really?" He looked up from Wuthering Heights. He was doing a lot better with it then I had thought he would. Not that I thought he was stupid; but I had trouble understanding everything the first time I read it, so I kind of assumed that he might too. He was almost done with it.
"Yes." I was scared he would say no.
Mom knew all about him, from what Wes and I had told her. She'd been dieing to meet him from day one, but she didn't like driving out here by herself and my dad was slaving away at work; too tired to go anywhere on the weekends. Mom worked too, but only part time at an art museum. She did setups for the new exhibits and things like that.
"Really?" he asked again, like I had been joking. I sat down next to him on the blue couch and got really close to his face.
"Yes really." I leaned in and kissed his lips softly. "Really, really," I said with a kiss break between each word. He pulled me over so I was sitting in his lap, facing him, my legs straddling his.
"I thought you would never ask."
His smile was huge, showing off his white teeth. I had been thinking a lot about whether or not his teeth fit his personality, and I decided they did; they were playful, almost joyous.
"So, is this weekend okay?"
Camble was rebuilding the old Chevy truck that Mac had giving him. It ran alright, but the body and interior needed a lot of work. For now, that's all he had to drive and I thought it would be fun to take a road trip in it.
"Oh, this weekend?" his eyes clouded a little, and his smile faded.
"We don't have to; just you usually don't get the weekends off, and we can wait till you get another one if you want." Maybe I should have given him a little more time to get ready. It was Thursday.
"No, it's not that, I thought . . .," he stopped and looked at me. "This weekend is perfect; I just thought there was something I had to do."
He kissed my lips before lifting me to my feet and walking to the study. I felt like I had missed something. Was there something he had to do? I jogged up the stairs and into our bedroom to look at the calendar I kept on my dresser, hoping maybe he'd written something on it that would give me an idea.
I picked it up slowly, noticing the small red heart on the bottom corner of Saturday, just two days away. I sat down on the barely made bed and slapped my forehead. I'd totally forgotten, and I was the one who'd written it on the calendar. How could I forget something like that? Had it been two months and three weeks already?
I went back down the stairs; I wanted to tell him I was sorry and that we could plan my parent's visit for another day. But when I got to the study door I heard him on the phone with someone.
"Yeah, I know its short notice... something came up... could I rebook it for another weekend?... well when's the next time it'll be free?... a month? Are you serious? I can't wait another month... I can't do that... look lady sometimes there are things more important then sex okay?... oh yes, you have a nice day too." he slammed down the phone. "Stupid bed and breakfast bitch."
I backed away from the door, remembering the last time I got caught eavesdropping and went into the kitchen. Now I really felt terrible; he had planned to take me away for the weekend and everything. I was the world's worst boyfriend.
Camble came up behind me and kissed my neck, I felt him take in a deep breath before exhaling down the back of my shirt, making my whole body shiver. I had this wonderful guy, all to myself, and I was taking him for granted.
I walked forward toward the island, its top was unusually clean. I turned to look at him while I lifted myself up to sit on it, leaving everything from my thighs down hanging over the edge. I patting my lap, hoping he would get the hint. His eye brows lifted in question but he walked toward me anyway. I spread my knees, fitted him between them, and then wrapped my arms around his neck.
"Have I ever told you how wonderful I think you are?" I asked as I kissed his neck. Usually when we made out I let him take over; he seems to like that. Just then, though, I wanted to touch him. I bit down gently on his neck before sucking at the skin there.
"Mm, Reed." His hands went under my shirt, moving to hold my shoulder blades. I ducked my head, kissing the top of his covered tummy, before pulling off his shirt. I ran my fingers down his chest, and then curled them into his waist band, using it pull him closer. That was all he could take before he wanted control.
Camble grabbed my thighs and pulled me tight against him, forcing us into a deep kiss. I grabbed hold of his hips, grinding myself into him. My hands moved slowly toward the buttons of his jeans, quickly undoing them, and then slipped inside his tight white boxers. He felt huge in my hand.
I placed one hand behind his neck, grabbing his hair, and I began stroking with the other. He broke the kiss, breathing deep, his forehead against mine, and his eyes gazing at me; they were hooded with pleasure. He felt so good to me; I always wanted to be able to touch him like this.
"God, Reed, I can't, I'm going to . . ." His breath hitched, hot against my lips. I stroked faster wanting him to have the release he was so close to. "Gah!" His voice was harsh; something that happened often when we were intimate. His hands fell from my body and onto the counter pushing hard against it.
"Go ahead baby," I murmured. His eyes slammed shut as he filled my hand. He let out a moan and went limp against me. I kissed his neck before pulling my hand out of his pants, and licked my finger tips clean. I'd never done that before, never even had the urge to, but everything with Camble just seemed good. And it was good.
"You're great," he breathed, still weak in my arms.
"You are great too," I said back, nuzzling into his neck. "You want to take a nap?"
"Maybe," he straightened up and looked at me. "You really need to stop listening in on peoples conversations; it isn't nice." I blushed.
It's not like I ever meant to eavesdrop; it always just happened. I looked up to find him smiling. He slid his hands under my ass and raised me off the island. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, and he carried me up to our room.
"Sleep," Camble said, and undressed me.
"So you aren't mad that I heard?" I asked sleepily. I was as drained from our activity as I assumed he was.
"No; it's fine baby. I just want our first time together to be special." He curled up behind me, pulling me to his chest.
"It would be special in the bathroom of a truck stop." His laugh rumbled against my body. I turned and looked over my shoulder at him.
"If you say so. I would prefer a bed though, if you don't mind." I nod because beds are nice for sex, I'm told. "Or, on your couch," he said excitedly. "Can we do it on the blue couch?"
"What, right now?"
I turned over on my back, and he scooted up my chest so he was laying half on-half off of me. I ran my fingers through his hair as he got comfortable, crossing his arms in front of him and resting his chin on his hands.
"Maybe not now; but soon."
I felt his heart beating calmly in his chest, against my tummy.
"Come here," I said, pulling at his arms.
He moved up, lifting an arm and wrapping it underneath my neck. His head stayed on my chest, though, with his other hand over my heart. I sighed contently, lifting my arm over my shoulder and intertwining my fingers with his. He moved his head so that he could look at me, smiled, and then snuggled in, falling asleep in seconds.
"We're here," I called into the house as I opened the door. Camble was carrying our bags, so I let him in first. He had been so nervous on the way here that he spent the majority of the drive chain smoking with the radio blasting. He looked calmer on the outside now, but I knew him well enough to know he was still scared they wouldn't like him. No matter how many times I told him that my parents would love him, he didn't believe me.
"Camble." Mom walked toward us, and right over to him, and gave him a tight hug. "I'm so happy to finally meet you." Hesitantly, Camble brought his hands up around her, hugging back.
"I'm happy to meet you too," he said, smiling at me over her shoulder.
"Take those bags up to your old room, Reed," Mom said as she walked by, pulling Camble along behind her. They disappeared deeper into the house, leaving me dumbfounded. To tell you the truth, even I was surprised about the way she acted. Mom had always been very friendly with my boyfriends, but never had she openly hugged them, or wanted to speak to them when I wasn't around. Smiling, I grabbed the bags and went up the stairs.
My room was just as I had left it, which was comforting to me. The walls were blue and covered with posters and pictures of old high school friends. My bed was still made up with the quilt Grandma had made me ten years earlier. I reached under the bed and pulled out an old shoe box. Flipping off the top, I smiled, glad that my parents hadn't found the gay porno that lay inside. I pushed it back to its place and stood up.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and flopped back, spreading my arms out above me. It even smelled the same.
I didn't want to leave Camble alone for too long, so I stood and moved toward the door. Turning, I noticed something new. There, sitting on my bedside table, was a framed picture. I picked it up, and instantly knew it was one of Wes's.
It was new, from the weekend that he had spent with Camble and me. Camble was lying on the blue couch, his back pressed up against its back, with me curled up in his arms. We had been napping late Sunday morning, which must have been when Wes took it. I could picture Wes now, standing behind the couch, looking down at us with his camera.
Pulling the photo to my chest, I smiled. Camble and I looked that good together? I gazed at it again, taking in how blue the couch looked, how Camble's skin and my hair glowed bright and healthy. Yeah, we did.
I found Camble and Mom in the kitchen, chatting like old friends. I sat down in his lap and showed him the picture. Mom had to have been the one to put it there; she developed all of Wes's film. I smiled at her.
"Wow," Camble whispered. "Is this one of Wes's?" I had showed him a lot of Wes's work; he'd taken an instant liking to it.
"Yes, isn't it beautiful? When Reed told me he was bringing you here, I framed it so you could take it home."
"We can keep it?" Camble asked happily. He was so cute.
"Of course, silly." My mom was flirting. It used to embarrass me so much when she did that with my or Wes's friends. I had realized, somewhere down the line, she only did it when she really liked someone. Like it was her way of showing that approval. It made me insanely happy this time, watching her flirt with my boyfriend.
"You have the world's greatest parent's, baby," Camble said, yawning. Mom, Dad, Wes, and I took him out sight seeing. He hadn't ever been to the city before, so we spent the whole day showing him all the great places people came to the city to see, and all the even greater places that you don't know of, unless you lived there all your life.
"Thank you," I said curling up close to him, ready to sleep.
"You love me right?" his voice had changed from sleepy to serious, startling me slightly. I looked up at his face, his deep blue eyes waiting for me.
"You know that I do."
"Then please, stay with me always."
In moments like this, a hundred things go through your mind. I thought about how he always teased me about being sappy, when really it was he who said all the mushy stuff in our relationship. I just happened to slip some in once in a while. I thought about how, when we were curled up in bed, it seemed perfect and loving but half way through the night he would roll away from me to sleep more comfortably. Then, in the morning, he'd roll back before he knew I was awake and pull me back into his arms. I thought about Seth.
"Always," I said and kissed his lips.
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