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"Oh c’mon, Dorian, you're telling me you've never been camping?" Dariax asks incredulously, nearly sloshing his drink as he flails his arms.
Dorian looks at the rest of the table, all looking at him in varying stages of similar disbelief.
"No?" He replies, cautiously.
Dariax gapes, mouth opening and closing a few times before apparently giving up on words and taking another drink.
Opal pops another chip in her mouth. "We all usually go. Especially out here. I've even gone, mostly cause Nancy gets sad when he doesn’t get a chance to go often and his birthday came and we all got super busy and had to cancel the birthday camping trip expect for me." She shrugs delicately as Fearne nods in agreement. "I don't love it, but it is beautiful."
Dorian looks over to where Orym is sipping his own drink and watching the whole table react to the news.
"This is a thing. You do for fun?"
Orym smiles and leans forward, almost hugging his drink, eyes alighting with excitement. "Yeah, pack up the truck, drive some trails, find a spot out where most people can't get to, set up a tent, build a fire. No cell service, no traffic, just people and food and nature."
"What if it rains?"
Orym shrugs and leans back in the booth, slouching nonchalantly. " Eh, then we get a bit wet." He grins a little slyly and leans forward again, the rare mischievous light catching in his eyes as he makes eye contact with Dorian. “Snuggle for warmth.”
Dorian inhales a crumb from his mozzarella stick and coughs. He absolutely refuses to allow his brain to follow that train of thought. Snuggling with Orym? He just barely manages to not turn into a blushy stammering mess from the casual touches of friendship like helping each other to their feet after yoga or celebratory back pats at weekly Mario Kart tournaments.
Fearne pats his back helpfully as he croaks his thanks, chugging some more water. "You really should try it some time, Dorian. At least once. It's worth it for the views."
And that’s how Dorian finds himself in the passenger seat of Orym’s truck, clinging to the door and his seatbelt for dear life as they bounce down the gravel road, wishing he’d taken Opal up on the offer of a sleeve of saltines as his stomach churns as they sail around a corner. He takes a deep breath in and releases the door, looking over at Orym to see if he should be panicking right now or not. Orym is perfectly calm, window down, one tanned arm resting on the windowsill, tapping out a melody and the other deftly maneuvering the steering wheel.
Clearly Orym is calm and so should Dorian be, but he’s pretty sure you aren’t supposed to be going this fast on gravel. He closes his eyes and that is worse and they fly open as the truck slows and dips and bumps up suddenly and he scrabbles for the door handle again, some alien noise escaping from his throat. Orym looks over sympathetically, and flips his blinker on and the ride smoothes out as they turn onto paved road again.
“We’ll pull over to air down soon, there’s just this section of paved road we have to get past first. The ride will be a lot smoother then.”
Dorian nods as though he knows what Orym is talking about and smiles weakly. His eyes go back to watching Orym drive and welcomes the distraction of muscular forearms and competent hands to take his mind to places he usually avoids, feeling some kind of way about fantasizing about his best friend and crush but honestly - these were desperate times.
The truck bounces as the paved road drops away and they’re back on the accursed gravel.
Orym reaches for the walkie talkie. “Dariax, there’s a pull-off up here we can air down at.”
Dariax’s tinny voice comes crackling through. “You got it, boss.”
They slow and Dorian can see where the gravel of the road bulges out to the side, enough for a couple vehicles to park and not block the narrow road.
“We aren’t there yet?” He winces at the wobble in his voice and clears his throat.
Orym turns the ignition off and grins. “Nah, the fun hasn’t even started yet.” He grabs a bag of sunflower seeds and hops out the truck.
“Great,” Dorian whispers to the interior of the truck and looks at his phone. No signal. In the side mirror he sees that Opal has also gotten out of Dariax’s Jeep and is stretching. Gingerly he unbuckles and slides out of the truck, frowning at the ruckus on the other side of the vehicles where he can’t see Dariax or Orym. He wanders over to Opal, still woozy and not even bothering to hide it.
“Hey,” she sing-songs at him, takes a closer look and opens her door, grabs something before slamming it shut. She hands him a ginger ale and holds a half-eaten sleeve of saltine crackers in her hands.
“What is happening?” Dorian finally asks, taking a sip of the offered drink.
Opal gestures with the crackers. “They gotta take some air out of the tires before we go any further.”
“Why?” Dorian looks mildly horrified. Normally one wants air in one’s tires.
Opal shrugs and munches on a cracker. “Something about squisher tires meaning surface contact and traction, I honestly wasn’t paying attention.”
Dorian looks around, concerned. “So what is further and why do we need squishier tire traction…surface contact?”
Opal pulls her sunglasses down her nose amd looks over them at him. “Dorian, were you not paying attention when Orym was talking about the trail? It’s gonna get a bit bumpy. We’re going to, well the boys are going to be climbing these,” she gestures to the vehicles, “over rocks and rough nature terrain and whatever.”
Dorian looks at her in disbelief. “I thought we were going to a campground.”
She pushes the sunglasses back up. “We are, it’s just a very very very remote campground. Off-road vehicles only.” She tilts her head. “Although last time I was here there was a very beat up old sedan so I guess off-road vehicles and vehicles-that-insurance-forgot only?” She offers another cracker as the two drivers make their way to the passenger side and attach their contraptions to the tires. “Did you just forget or were you really not paying attention?”
Dorian squints. He vaguely remembers Orym talking about this, Dorian had been a little more focused on how Orym’s sweater made his mossy eyes even greener and his excitement made them sparkle and how his hands had gestured a lot as he spoke-
“I think I just forgot it in all the excitement.” Dorian says quickly, blushing and hoping it will pass off as sun warmth.
Opal looks at him knowingly and smirks. “Sure.”
Dorian glares and stomps down to where Orym is crouched beside his tire, chewing on sunflower seeds and watching a pressure gauge. Orym looks up at him and turns aside, spitting out the shells and grins up at Dorian.
“Hey there. Feel better now that we’re not moving?”
Dorian squats down and smiles back. “Yeah, more bumpy than I was expecting, if I’m honest.”
Orym removes the device from his tire valve stem and screws the cap back on. “Sorry about that. The gravel bit should be better for about another couple miles but the terrain starts getting rough from there. Wish I could say it isn’t going to be bumpy but,” he shrugs and stands. “That’s how the trail goes.”
Orym plops down at the last tire and starts the contraption up again. Dorain follows him. “And you and Dariax do this for fun?”
Orym nods. “Sometimes we camp, sometimes we don’t. Sometimes it's just the challenge of the trail that we're looking for."
Dorian leans up against the truck. "But doesn't it break the car?"
Orym laughs wryly. "Yeah sometimes. If you're being stupid and reckless. Sometimes even if you're being the most careful, things still happen."
Dorian looks around worriedly. They were so far out here with no cell service. A hand on his arm gets his attention and he turns, briefly losing himself in the kind eyes looking up at him.
“Hey, don’t worry. It’s why I don’t come out here alone. If I break, Dariax is here to help. If he breaks, I’m here to help. If something goes really really wrong and we both break, there will be others on the trail that can go for help. We’re a pretty friendly community. Worse comes to worse, we hike out of here and come back for the cars.” Orym squeezes his arm and smiles. Dorian is helpless to do anything else but smile back. Orym stows his tools in the back and hollers back to Dariax, who is also getting ready to get back on the trail. Dorian makes brief eye contact with Opal, who is standing on the door jam to get a better angle for a photo of the surrounding scenery. She raises an eyebrow at him and Dorian blushes and gets back in Orym’s truck.
Orym hops in beside him, tucking the sunflower seeds away and rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Whoo let’s go!” He takes a big gulp of water. “I always forget how salty those things are.” He looks over at Dorian. “They’re my air down snack. I literally never eat them any other time, but when you’re just sitting there watching air leak out of a tire, what else are you going to do?”
He grabs the walkie and checks in with Dariax and Dorian double checks that his seatbelt is secure and off they go.
Turns out, Opal was right. Less air in the tires means less bounce on the gravel. Then they turned off on a - well Dorian is pretty sure calling it a road would be too generous of a term - a stretch of ground that had less trees and grass on it than the surrounding area and once again Dorian is questioning how he ended up in this mess. The truck was moving slowly at least, but jerking up and around the trail avoiding sharp rocks, climbing over some, dipping down into puddles, tilting in ways that Dorian was convinced they were going to roll over. At one point, Dariax stopped and ran ahead of them to guide them through a particularly difficult decline and Orym hopped out to return the favor once successfully through. Orym had his head out his window more often than not, one hand on the walkie relaying advice and jokes back to Dariax, and the other hand dexterously twisting and turning the steering wheel as the truck managed to conquer every obstacle the trail put in their path. Dorian eventually gives up on looking at the scenery (it’s bouncing too much and making him sick again) and just watches Orym go to work. He’s always had a fascination with the man’s hands but watching him drive off-road was an entirely new and different thing. The confidence with which he moved, gripping the wheel as the truck eases over rocks and slippery sand, letting the wheel slide through his fingers to straighten the wheels back out before grasping it again and cutting a hard turn one direction or another, exerting such clear control and knowledge of the limits and capabilities of the vehicle he was driving was…fascinating.
Dorian shifts in his seat and clears his throat. Maybe he should go back to watching the scenery.
After some rather terrifying bouncing back and forth over some rolling uneven terrain that prompts a cackling “Yeahhh make that Taco wiggle!” from Dariax over the walkie, Orym points to a rustic sign up ahead through the now dirt and mud speckled windshield. “Welcome to the Sanctuary Falls campground.”
Dorian sighs in relief.
The two vehicles pull into the campground slowly, crawling past all of the sites, waving at the few other brave souls that have already made it out here and set up camp. Orym seems to have a spot in mind as they continue inward and Dorian catches his breath as they round a corner into a tucked away spot surrounded by tall pines. Orym smiles over at him, putting the truck in park.
“Worth it all, huh?”
Wordlessly, Dorian nods and slides out of the truck, legs a bit wobbly and slowly spins in a circle. There’s a stream running just in front of them, crashing past rocks and bases of tree trunks, filling the silence in between bird calls. Tall pines surround them, framing the mountside just beyond in the distance. The clear blue sky is bright and cheery above them and everything is more green and vivid than he could ever have imagined. There’s a roar in the distance that quickly gets closer and Dorian braces as the pines shake and bend in the sudden gust of wind careening down the mountain and he closes his eyes in the sunlight.
Yeah, okay. He gets it now.
Dorian opens his eyes and sees Orym watching him with a look on his face that softens into something indecipherable.
“Orym -” Dorian is at a loss for words.
“I know.” Orym bumps his shoulder gently and heads for the back of the truck. “Let’s set up camp so we can relax.”
Orym pulls a bag out of the bed of the truck. “I’m gonna assume you’ve never put a tent up before?”
Dorian shakes his head. Orym gestures over to an open space of grass. “C’mon, I’ll show you how. We’ll have to share, I only have the one and Dariax and Opal are sleeping in his Jeep.”
Dorian looks over to where the two of them are moving things to the front seats of the Jeep and laying down a foam mattress topper and stumbles after Orym.
“Won’t that be, um, cramped?”
Orym is surveying the ground and looks up at Dorian clumsily following him. “Yeah, but that’s kinda the point,” he says grinning a bit wickedly. “Gets chilly out here when the sun goes down. Gonna wanna snuggle for warmth or make sure you pack a good sleeping bag.” Orym winks and continues walking around, kicking rocks out of the area as Dorian feels the world shift under him.
Snuggle? Warmth? Share a tent? Gods, what had he gotten himself into?
Orym sets the bag down. “Yeah this will work.”
Patiently, Orym walks Dorian through setting up the tent, laughing as Dorian fumbles through not having a clue what to do and tries desperately to follow every one of Orym’s instructions. Eventually a tent is raised and Dorian continues to follow Orym around, blowing up the air mattress, laying out sleeping bags, and helping him to unload the truck. Orym pulls a folding table out and sets it up near the truck as Dorian walks up holding two plastic tote boxes stacked atop each other.
“Where do you want these?”
Orym nods at the ground next to the table. “There’s good. Could you grab the cooler too?”
Dorian sets them down, stretches and trots off to grab the cooler. Dariax and Opal wander over.
“Hey bud, got everything set up over here?” Dariax pops his folding chair out and plops into it, letting the pack of firewood he’d bought fall to the ground beside him as Opal relaxes into her own chair, pulling out a book with a scantily clad couple on the cover and propping her feet up on a nearby log and settling in with a happy sigh.
Orym nods without looking over. “Getting there. Tent took a little longer than usual but that’s to be expected. Dorian’s bringing the cooler over, if you want to get that fire going? I can feel that cold front moving in.” He winces and shifts his weight. “We’ll want dinner and warmth soon.”
Dariax leans forward. “Damn, I thought it wasn’t going to hit until later tonight. You alright? I got extra meds in the jeep.”
Orym waves him off. “Fire will be enough. I’m just stiff is all.”
Dariax scoots closer to the fire pit and begins preparing to make a campfire. “Good thing I bought extra firewood.”
Dorian returns with the cooler and tucks it under the table as well, hovering for a moment before Orym shoos him off to sit by the fire pit. He watches with fascination as Dariax pulls a hatchet from seemingly nowhere and splits smaller splinters of wood off of one of the logs, piling it in the middle of the arrangement and taking a paper towel and stuffing that at the bottom. Dorian leans forward to get a better look as Dariax pulls the biggest match Dorian has ever seen in his life out and strikes it, jumping when it’s brighter than he was expecting and lights the paper on fire. Slowly and with a little encouragement from Dariax, the entire structure of logs begins to light as flames lick up and dance up the sides of first the splinters, and the the slightly bigger chunks and then the rest of the logs as they crackle and blacken and Dorian is entranced as warmth rushes over his face. He begins to relax for the first time all day as the sounds of the fire, the wind in the trees, the birdsong calling in the sky, and the peaceful calm of the nature surrounding their little group seeps into his tense shoulders and his muscles begin to unwind.
Orym comes over and hands Dorian a water bottle and sits in his own chair, scooching close to the fire and pulling on a hoodie as the breeze around them grows cooler.
“So what do you think, Dorian?” Orym asks quietly, leaning over towards him, pulling Dorian from his entranced stare into the dancing flames.
Dorian looks up at the towering trees around them, the peaceful scenery surrounding them, and back into Orym’s green eyes. “This is paradise.”
They sit peacefully around the campfire for a while, letting it build and settle before Orym cracks open the cooler and one of the totes. He pulls out some extendable metal rods and a package of hot dogs. Dariax whoops and digs through the cooler to find the condiments and Dorian tentatively peeks in the other tote for buns and paper plates cheering slightly when he finds them, actually feeling slightly helpful for once. Opal yawns and puts her book down, making grabby hands for one of the skewers. Orym pops a couple hot dogs on the ends of the skewers and hands it to her. He preps another one and offers it to Dorian who takes it gingerly. Peeking over the fire to see what Opal is doing, he tries to replicate it on his end, accidentally sticking the meat directly into the flames and getting them a bit toasted before Orym suddenly appears behind him and reaches around and redirects the stick upwards out of the fire with a gentle hand wrapped around Dorian’s own and arm half-hugging the side of him, other hand resting on his shoulder. Dorian laughs sheepishly, thankful for the flames in front of him to cover his immediate blush over Orym grasping his hands in his and murmuring soft instructions in his ear while Dorian tries to remember how to breathe. Opal is making wiggly eyebrows at him from across the fire and he glares at her while trying to not catch the hot dogs on fire again.
“Don’t worry about it,” Orym says softly as Dorian tries to not shiver at Orym’s breath dancing across his neck. “I like mine a little burnt.”
“Mmmhmm,” Dorian manages.
“Those should be good to go, I think.” Orym tugs on Dorian’s hand under his and Dorian lets him pull the skewer up.
“Yeah?” He looks over and gets caught in how close Orym’s face is to his and distracted by the bits of gold he’d never noticed in Orym’s eyes, now highlighted by the dancing firelight.
On the other side of the fire Opal mouths a silent, “Oh My Gods .” while rolling her eyes to Dariax who just pops open his beer and leans back in his chair with a shrug.
Opal clears her throat and Dorian and Orym jump apart. “Where’d those buns go?”
Orym hops back up and tosses them over to her.
Dinner continues and later Dorian learns how to make s’mores, only sending a few marshmallows into the fire because they kept slipping off the end of the toasting skewer to the delight of everyone around the fire who’s also had the same misfortune in the past.
As the sun slips below the horizon and the temperature drops, Dorian can feel now why everyone kept telling him he’d need the layers and teased about snuggling. Dariax and Opal had already slipped back into the back of the Jeep with the door still open and watching the stars from where they were laying cozily under sleeping bags and blankets. His eyes dart over to Orym’s peaceful, firelit face as the embers begin to burn down.
Orym looks over and catches him watching and raises his eyebrows in question. “Ready for bed?”
No. Yes. Absolutely not. Completely.
Dorian nods.
Orym pours the rest of his water bottle on the campfire, ensuring that it goes out completely, digs a flashlight and lantern out of one of the totes, and walks over to the Jeep, knocking on the side.
“We’re gonna go to sleep now, you two all good in here?”
Dariax leans up on one elbow from where he’d been laying on his side talking quietly with Opal and squints up at Orym. “Yep we’re good. Holler if you need anything.”
Orym waves goodnight and starts walking towards the tent, clicking the flashlight on. Dorian watches him begin to disappear into the darkness, the light from the flashlight bobbing as Orym walks, before shaking himself and carefully scampering after him, shivering in the cold air now that the fire has gone out. Orym is waiting for him in the tent, attaching the lantern to a loop on the top of the tent.
“Hey,” Orym says quietly, voice roughened by the smoke of the fire and cold. “So there’s two ways we can do this.”
Dorian crosses his arms, shivering. “Yeah?”
Orym gestures to the sleeping bags on top of the air mattress. “We can sleep in our own bags and it’ll be fine.” He hesitates a moment and then takes a deep breath. “Or we can zip them together into one big bag and share body heat and be a lot warmer.”
The wind roars outside the tent and they both shiver.
“That one. Warmer. Let’s share.” Dorian says.
Orym flashes a big smile and starts unzipping the bags, rezipping them into a big bag and with Dorian’s help, smoothing it out over the air mattress. Orym sits down and begins untying his boots. Dorian sits down tentatively on the other side and undoes his bun, carefully finger combing through his long hair and beginning to braid it for sleep.
“I brought your bag in here, if you want your comb?” Orym says.
Dorian turns and sees Orym watching him and nods silently. Orym digs for the comb and carefully crawls across the wobbly air mattress as Dorian slips his legs into the sleeping bag.
“Can I?” Orym asks softly, gesturing to Dorian’s hair.
Dorian’s heart stutters and races and he nods and turns around, goosebumps and shivers spreading out across his body that have nothing to do with the cold as Orym’s gentle hands begin to run the comb through sections of hair, carefully working through any tangles before putting the comb away and carefully braiding Dorian’s hair out of the way for sleep. Dorian’s breath trembles as his head tingles and he stills when Orym’s hands come back to his shoulders softly.
“I’m glad you came out here with me, Dorian.” Orym whispers. “I’m so glad I get to show you something I love.”
Dorian tries to speak. Swallows. Whispers. “You do so much for all of us. You give so much.” He turns slowly, not wanting to break whatever spell has fallen on the tent. “I want to know what makes your heart happy, Orym.”
Orym lets his hands slide down Dorian’s arms and twines his fingers with Dorian’s as his gaze drops to their hands. “And what if it’s you?”
Dorian’s eyes go wide and he sucks in a breath, feeling his heart stop and face flush all at once. “What?” he croaks.
Orym’s determined eyes lock onto his. “What if you are what makes my heart happy?”
Dorian blinks.
Orym continues, “What if I want to take you to dinner at that restaurant you were talking to Opal about that only serves appetizers and wine and charges you $50 a person and hold your hand during movie night and share the giant bean bag at Fearne’s instead of taking turns each week and introduce you to my mom and she’ll fuss over you and make you something ridiculous and homemade and not your style at all but it doesn’t matter because you’re family now and kiss you at midnight on New Year’s and at 11:11 when you always close your eyes every night and make a wish and get teased by our friends for being too sappy but not care because we’re so happy and argue about curtains and get lost in Ikea?”
Dorian gapes a bit.
“What if you are what makes my heart happy?”
“I…you…what…” Dorian stutters. “You want me? You want all that with me?”
Orym squeezes his hands and nods.
Dorian pulls his hands away and covers his face, takes a deep breath and drags them back down to see Orym’s hopeful face looking at him with a touch of concern.
“Orym, I’ve had a crush on you from the moment I met you. But then I got to know you and it just wouldn’t go away and I never ever imagined you would have a second look at me beyond friendship.” Dorian manages to get out from behind his fingers.
Orym’s eyes alight with joy and he reaches for Dorian’s wrists, gently pulling them away from his face. “Well, of course I would, sweetheart, you are amazing.”
Dorian blushes and lets his eyes trace over Orym's face, falling to his lips. “I know it’s not New Year’s and I don’t think it’s 11:11 but I’d really really like to kiss you right now.”
Orym pulls him closer by his wrists and grins. “I could be persuaded.”
Dorian lets himself fall back as Orym presses his lips to his, snuggling down into the sleeping bag as their lips glide softly together, hands brushing through hair, limbs tangling as they trade kisses into the night.
Eventually, Orym rolls off of him and frowns up at the lantern. “Someone needs to turn that off.”
Dorian laughs and reaches up, stretching with his longer arms and flicks it off before wrapping Orym back up and jostling the two of them back into a comfortable position to sleep in, this time completely in the dark. He feels Orym’s lips press a kiss to his shoulder as the other man curls into him and smiles into the darkness.
Yeah, this could be paradise.