becoming {h.s} | {b2}

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

— CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN —

april, year four.

The fire crackling in front of us is a peaceful sound.

Five of us sit around it; each of us equally entranced by the dancing orange flames as they lap and lick the air around us. Monty and Oliver are sitting across from us with their arms around each other. Oliver's head rests sweetly on Monty's shoulder. Fitzy is sitting stretched out by himself, a beer clutched in his hands; something that he was teased for immediately. Fitzy with beer is something of a rare sight. Everyone has become accustomed to seeing him with his typical glass of whiskey. Harry and I are on the other end. We're laid out on some blankets that we had brought with us, huddled around the fire. I'm between his legs, I can feel his chest against my back and his arms are looped lazily around my waist, only loosening when I lean across him to dip a marshmallow into the fire.

Personally I'm not a huge fan of marshmallows, but Harry is happily eating every single s'more that I make for him without uttering a single complaint. The happiness that it brings him is so sublime and simple that I can't help myself from leaning over and making another.

We'd been planning this trip for some time.

For a while now, I've been aching for Monty's company. It's been months since I saw him in person. After that conversation with Fitzy last month, I knew that I couldn't wait much longer. I immediately set things into motion. Both Fitzy and Monty had birthdays coming up, so I suggested that we five of us go camping together as a way of celebrating. Everyone was eager to agree. I think we all became very aware of how much we truly missed each other. After that, it only became a matter of finding a weekend that worked. Originally, I had wanted to do something close to their birthdays. After all, they are born exactly a week apart in the first half of the month. But, scheduling conflicts got in the way and now we find ourselves at the end of April under a starry sky. Perhaps it worked out better this way; the weather is certainly much better.

Harry's chin is presently resting on my shoulder, his breathing growing heavier as he grows drowsier. He's sporting a semi; something that I've known for a while. After the last time that I reached forward to make him a marshmallow, his lips whispered hotly in my ear, "kid, you got to stop squirming so much." I'd grown thankful for the darkness, covering my wicked blush. Since, I'd grown more calculated in my movements; something that he is appreciative for. It effectively kept his semi as such.

We'd met Monty and Oliver in the middle at some random campground halfway between Seattle and Portland. Today had been a long day filled with driving and setting up. I don't suppose that it should have been so hard to figure out how to set up three tents, but from the way that Fitzy and Harry argued about it, all my bets were off. Monty and I laid back and drank beer, watching them with amusement. At that point in time, Oliver was at the store, buying the food.

With the sun fully set in the sky, stars blanketing the blackness around us, I'm aware of the peace and serenity of this world. Crickets are chirping and there's a certain noise that accompanies this level of silence. Absently I think back to the time that I spent living with Will—the time that I grew used to falling asleep to the sound of honking horns and sirens. That had been a more active noise. The one in the campground is different—more passive. In a way, I suppose it seems fitting. A different noise and a different life, really.

"Is there a date yet?" Oliver asks, clearly directing his question to Harry and I—the only two people who have any sort of date to be planning for.

A long sigh parts from my lips. We've spent a fair amount of time contemplating this question. We have come to find that we're split depending on the day. Half the time, we are in agreement that we want a long engagement. We had gotten engaged so quick and we aren't in any hurry. After all, it's so obvious to the both of us that this is the rest of our lives. There's no reason to rush that. On the other hand, we both have our impulsive moments. Those impetuous tendencies are causing an internal ruckus for the both of us. It's the part of me that insisted that Will and I got married on the very day that we got engaged. It's the part of Harry that proposed hardly even six months after we got together. Both of us appear to be suckers for the instant gratification of it all.