Page 13
Chapter thirteen
Sawyer
Clayton and Sawyer sat around the campfire circle with the other campers. Sawyer pulled his knees closer to his chest, his flannel shirt carrying the sweet scent of pine needles from the trees in the woods. Around him, laughter bubbled up naturally in a way he’d never experienced back on the farm. He was constantly on edge and on guard, but here, even after the incident with Owen, he was peaceful.
Clayton leaned over. “Do you like the campfire?”
Sawyer nodded then spoke, his voice coming out softer than intended. “Yeah. Never thought I’d end up someplace like here, to be honest. Spent most of my life around cattle and cornfields.”
“I’m happy you made some friends.”
A smile tugged at Sawyer’s lips as he watched the two guys across the fire sharing earbuds, shoulders touching, completely at ease. “It’s…different. Good different. Like I can finally exhale properly, you know?”
“Trust me, I know exactly what you mean.” Clayton laughed, poking at the fire with a stick. “First time I went to a Pride event, I barely said a word for two days straight.”
“I love how nobody here seems to be trying to be anything,” Sawyer said, surprising himself with his honesty. “Back home, it was all about fitting into a specific mold. Here, it’s just…easy.”
With the general chatter around the fire as background, Sawyer let his thoughts wander. He’d spent so many nights alone in his room in Stockton, wondering if he’d made a mistake leaving the familiar confines of the farm. But sitting here, watching the sparks rise into the star-studded sky, he felt a piece of himself click into place.
These weren’t the rough, judgmental men he’d grown up around. They were artists, teachers, mechanics, writers—regular guys who were just like him. Some wore nail polish, others looked like they could’ve stepped right off the family’s farm, and nobody seemed to care either way.
For the first time since leaving home, Sawyer felt the lingering tension in his shoulders truly relax. The crackle of the fire, the casual bursts of conversation, the way nobody flinched when two men held hands—it was like stepping into a universe he’d always hoped existed but never dared to seek out. Clayton had opened a new world, filled with exciting possibilities and untold adventures.
The glow of the campfire flickered across Sawyer’s face as he leaned back against the log he had dragged into place hours earlier. The crackling flames danced in his eyes, their warmth stretching out into the cool evening air. Clayton sat to his left, hunched slightly forward, strumming an old guitar he had carried with him everywhere since college. The chords spilled softly into the night, a melody both easygoing and nostalgic. Many of the guys had been singing for nearly an hour, their voices blending with the hum of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves. It wasn’t a performance, but a shared joy, imperfect yet full of heart.
Lodi Lake shimmered in the near distance, its surface mirroring the pale moonlight with fleeting ripples where the breeze skimmed over it. The water lapped gently against the shore, creating a rhythmic counterpoint to their songs. To Sawyer, it felt like the lake itself was an audience—quiet, patient, and content to absorb their music.
He reached for the bag of marshmallows beside him, its crinkled plastic glinting in the firelight. “Want another one?” he asked, holding the bag up to Clayton. Without looking away from his guitar, Clayton gave a quick nod and grinned.
Sawyer skewered a marshmallow onto the end of his stick, easing it toward the flames. He turned it slowly, watching as it began to bubble and brown, its sugary surface blistering into golden perfection. The sweet smell of caramelizing sugar mingled with the smoky aroma of burning wood, filling the air with an irresistible aroma. Clayton had stopped playing now, setting the guitar aside to grab his own stick. The two roasted in silence for a moment, accompanied only by the sounds of the night and the fire. Other men in the circle were roasting marshmallows and talking.
“Did you come here last year?” Sawyer asked, a teasing edge in his voice. He glanced sideways at Clayton, whose marshmallow had already caught fire.
Clayton laughed, blowing out the flame and letting the charred treat cool. “I did,” he replied.
“Did you have a tent mate?” Sawyer asked.
Clayton rolled his eyes, chuckling again as he popped the marshmallow into his mouth.
“No, I was all by myself in the tent.”
“What about the year before?”
“Yes, I met someone here for the week.”
“Is he here now?”
Clayton acted like he hadn’t checked prior to Sawyer’s question and looked around the circle of men. “Nope.”
“Is that the first time you’d looked to see if he was here?”
“I didn’t even think about looking for him. I’m too happy with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he whispered. Their banter continued as the fire gradually dwindled, reducing itself to glowing embers. He leaned over and kissed Sawyer’s cheek.
“Ready for the tent? We have some fun things to do in there if you’re ready.”
Sawyer nodded. They stood for a moment, then said their quiet goodbyes.
Sawyer felt the warmth of Clayton’s hand as they stepped off the well-lit path and into the quiet embrace of the woods. Pride Camp buzzed in the distance—laughter, music, the occasional burst of cheering—but out here, beneath the towering trees and the silver glow of the moon, it felt like they had the universe to themselves. Their boots pounded against the gravel as they followed the narrow trail leading to their tent, the air thick with the scent of pine and earth. Fireflies flickered around them, tiny bursts of light dancing among the shadows.
Sawyer gave Clayton’s hand a small squeeze. “Thank you for inviting me here,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, like speaking too loudly might disturb the surrounding peace. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but…this has been amazing.”
Clayton glanced at him. “I was hoping you’d feel that way. You belong here, Sawyer. You belong with me.”
Clayton’s words settled deep in his chest, warming something inside him he hadn’t realized was cold. He didn’t say anything, just nodded as they reached the tent. Clayton unzipped the entrance, holding it open for him. Inside, the space was cozy—a soft pile of blankets and pillows spread across the floor. He lit a small lantern with a lighter he had carried in his pocket.
Sawyer kicked off his boots and settled in, watching as Clayton reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of wine. He arched an eyebrow. “Really? You packed wine?”
Clayton smirked as he twisted off the cap. “What kind of bartender would I be if I didn’t?”
Sawyer laughed, taking the cup Clayton offered him. They clinked their cups together in a quiet toast before taking a sip. The wine was smooth, a velvety texture that spread warmth through him almost instantly, like a comforting hug from the inside out.
For a moment, they just sat there, close but not touching, sipping their wine in comfortable silence. Then Clayton set his cup down and turned toward him, his expression softer now. Without a word, he reached out, cupping the side of Sawyer’s face. Sawyer barely had time to react before Clayton leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips.
Sawyer sighed into it, his free hand finding its way to Clayton’s arm. The night, the camp, the world outside their little tent all faded away. Right now, there was only this—only Clayton, warm and steady, holding him like he was something worth holding onto.
“Are we going to do anything?” Sawyer asked.
“Can I ask you some questions first?”
“Sure.”
“Have you ever used a butt plug?”
Sawyer stared, mouth agape, completely stunned by the question. His face burned, the crimson tide rising as he realized how red he must look. The dim lighting cast long shadows, so perhaps Clayton hadn’t noticed. This was what he craved, and he would readily provide what was needed.
“No. I wouldn’t know where to buy one.”
“Do you know what they are for?”
“Yes, I saw them on the internet when I was looking up gay sex.”
“That’s a good start. I bought one for you. I want you to wear it to bed, so when we make love, you’ll be ready for me. Are you okay with that?”
“Yes. Yes. Are you going to put it inside me?”
“If you let me.”
“Yes. Please do it for me.”
Clayton took Sawyer into his arms. “I need you to take your jeans down and lie on your stomach.” He pulled a small bag out from the larger one, opened it, and removed a shiny red butt plug and a bottle of lube.
“See, it’s still in the package,” Clayton said.
“I like it. Thank you.”
Clayton helped Sawyer pull his jeans down along with his underwear. Sawyer turned on his sleeping bag. Clayton lightly tickled his ass cheeks, then added some lube to his opening. He slowly slipped the plug in. The coldness of the lube made Sawyer jump, but his cock stretched and began leaking pre-cum.
“Do you like how it feels?”
“It’s kind of cold, but yeah, I like it, and it doesn’t hurt.”
“The plug is to help you stretch for me. Turn around.”
Sawyer twisted around to face Clayton.
“I bet it’s feeling good. Your cock is hard. Have you ever rubbed your cock, so you’d come?”
“Yes, every night. I need it. That butt plug makes me hard much faster.”
“I know many tricks. I’m not going to go inside you until tomorrow. But tonight, I want to give you a blowjob. Do you know what that is?”
“Of course. I’ve never had one, though. I dreamed of getting one. Thank you, Clayton.”
Clayton busied himself with a bottle of water and a cloth. He wiped Sawyer’s cock and balls.
“Before we make love, you will need to clean yourself with an enema. I brought a disposable one for you. You can do it in the showers in a private stall. If you don’t know how, I’ll help you.”
“I looked at the online videos, so I know how.”
“Did you ever give yourself an enema?”
“No. Sorry about that.”
“No reason to be sorry or worry about it. It will become part of our lovemaking.”
Sawyer’s cock once again hardened. Sawyer did not know how to control his cock, but getting a blowjob meant he needed a hard-on. He had controlled himself at home. Ever since Sawyer met Clayton, his dick had had a mind of its own.
Clayton took Sawyer’s cock in his mouth and began sucking him, making his cock throb. No one had ever made Sawyer feel like this before. It felt almost magical as Clayton’s tongue raced up and down his shaft. He spent some time on the head, swirling his tongue around it. His hands massaged his balls. He stuck his tongue inside Sawyer’s slit, jamming it in and out repeatedly.
Sawyer took a deep breath and said, “I’m going to come.” He’d warned Clayton, so he could remove Sawyer’s cock from his mouth, but he didn’t. Clayton worked harder at sucking him. Finally, Sawyer couldn’t hold his orgasm off any longer and shot hot cum into Clayton’s mouth.
Sawyer moaned and made all kinds of loud noises while Clayton continued to suck him and swallow his cum then he licked Sawyer’s cock clean.
“That was the best feeling ever,” Sawyer said.
“I know. Still feels good?”
“Yes, it’s crazy good. What about you?”
“Tomorrow will be my day. Maybe in the morning.” Clayton wiped Sawyer’s cock. He threw the disposable cleaning wipes into a small garbage bag. Once Sawyer was clean, Clayton scooped him into his arms. “I want you to feel good every night or morning or both.”
“Me too.”
“Ready for bed, boy?”
Sawyer nodded.
Clayton opened both of their sleeping bags, used one to lie on and the other for cover. Clayton slid into the sleeping bag beside Sawyer and tickled him until Sawyer couldn’t stop laughing.
“Stop, it tickles too much.” Sawyer laughed so hard he had tears leaking down his temples.
“Night.” Clayton pulled Sawyer close and their lips met in a tender kiss.
“Night.” Sawyer snuggled into Clayton’s warm embrace, feeling completely safe and loved.