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Three Plus One

(Knotty Version)

“Why are you doing this to me? To us?"

White paper birch and aspen trees ripe with early summer greenery towered around the three men, a few mountain ashes peppered throughout. Oliver shrugged his hiking backpack into a more comfortable position, his eyes glancing at Henry who, as usual, took the lead. Trailing behind by several yards, Liam huffed and swore under his breath, glancing up through the forest canopy to spot a sharp-shinned hawk drifting through the sky in search of prey. Beneath them, the faint trail spoke of years since it had been traversed upon. The wooden sign at the beginning had warned the trail was closed. But Henry had insisted they were fine. Everything will be fine. To him, everything was.

Oliver again: “Henry… why do you insist on punishing us so? Think of poor Liam back there!"

“I admit it, I'm a total wimp when it comes to the outdoors," Liam huffed from the back. “We've been at this for only half an hour and already I'm beat."

“Oh, for Pete's sake, Liam," Henry tossed back with a laugh. “You need to lay off the tots!"

Liam patted his belly, giving a firm grip to the chubbiness he never outgrew from childhood. “Need this in case we get stranded at the cabin to which you're taking us, Henry oh Henry." Liam gave another squeeze of his belly fat. “And just think, if I kick the bucket, you'll feast for a week or two. My sacrifice"—he bowed his head theatrically—"for you fine gentlemen."

Oliver winced. “Subsisting on my friend's carcass sounds terrible," he whined, “let alone imagining you dying."

Henry chuckled. “Lighten up."

Oliver pouted, hopping over an upturned root he spotted last-minute and having to readjust his backpack that jostled from its most comfortable position. “I don't see why you're taking us to some abandoned cabin. We have a nice, clean, safe one I remember specifically forking over a few hundred dollars to help cover the rent."

“Hey, it was Jack's idea to head up north, dontcha know!" Henry countered, walking backwards so he could give Oliver a mocking kissing face. A thick hand began to stroke his year-old beard thoughtfully. “You should know considering he's your roommate and college butt-buddy."

“Why couldn't he come for all three days?" Liam asked. “Seems like a shame he's missing out on the first day… and the road trip up here. The drive together is half the fun."

Oliver hesitated, focusing on the forest floor. Henry still walked backwards, grinning all the while, only looking back here and there to make sure he stayed true to the trail.

“Come on, Oliver. Tell us what your company had said. Don't tell me that meat-head didn't want to miss leg day."

“He has his… reasons, I think," Oliver finally offered. Henry's eyebrows lifted when he saw Oliver's face begin to flush.

“Oh fer cute, Liam!" Henry shouted back. “Oliver's hiding something again!" Henry shot a finger up to a fruit-bearing mountain ash tree. “His face is as red as those berries!"

“Not again, Oliver," Liam laughed. “Last time you blushed this hard, we found out you had finally kissed a girl. And that was last year."

“You're one to talk!" Oliver ducked his head low, shielding his face with a hand as if trying to block out the sun. Then his voice went soft: “It was my first… I don't know…"

“Better late than never," Henry said with a smirk. “Would've been a shame to sample your first beer before your first lady. You got so drunk last month! Had to make sure we rung in your twenty-first birthday right."

“Did you get to bone the girl with whom Henry hooked you up?" Liam wondered.

“Hold up, hold up, hold up," Henry said, lifting up a palm. Oliver stopped, still blushing up a storm. When Henry saw that Liam had stopped several yards down the path, he waved him over impatiently. Liam trod up the path, plastering the air with small huffs, his ponytail and backpack straps swinging with his gait. Oliver went for his water bottle as he waited for Liam to arrive, the taste of once-cool liquid helping to mitigate the redness in his face. As Liam caught up with his two friends, Henry let out a grave sigh. “Did I just hear you say, 'with whom'? Who the fuck says that shit?"

“An English major with a 4.0 GPA," Liam said, his chest puffing out almost of its own accord. “Didn't you drop out of the college the moment you failed your first exam for a remedial math class?"

“Naw," Henry said, shaking his head with a laugh. “I realized I didn't need no stinkin' piece of paper to make double the income as a car mechanic than you would as a glorified proofreader."

Liam attempted a witty comeback, but Henry raised his hand again.

“Ah, ah, ah… you wouldn't want to risk my revoking the free oil change service I provide now, would you?"

Liam replaced his open mouth, once ready to spit a retort, with a placating grin. You win.

During this exchange, Oliver began to steal himself up the trail, inviting Henry's hand over to snag him back by one of his backpack straps—a snake striking from the underbrush.

“Ah, ah, ah…" Henry repeated. “Don't let Liam's tomfoolery make you think I'm too distracted to deal with you." Oliver's face went red again. His ears got hot. “Spill it."

“Spill what?" Oliver's eyes snapped back and forth between Henry and Liam, looking for any semblance of mercy. Both men waited for an answer. No mercy existed this day. “There's nothing to say."

“Oh, just fork it over already," Liam said. “We three have been friends since we were eight. You know, when Henry here finally graduated from his diapers."

“Wait a minute…" Henry said, glaring at Liam. “Isn't it 'Us three have been friends'?"

“No," Liam said. “Take out 'three' and hear how the sentence sounds. You wouldn't say, 'Us have been friends' now, would you?"

“Ah, good point. Thanks for the grammar lesson." Henry slugged Liam in the arm, provoking a yelp. “And that's for the diaper joke."

Liam sucked in a breath, trying to rub away the pain in his arm. “Anyway, Oliver. You can tell us. We promised to be real with each other, remember?"

“I hated that high school pact," Oliver said, his gaze drifting towards the toes of his hiking boots, the dead leaves on the ground, the pellets of deer shit. One hand clutched the other arm in a half hug, and he looked as if he felt the same pain in his arm as Liam felt. “Feels like I'm the only one who confesses anything."

“That's because Henry's a freakin' open book despite the fact he never reads any." Henry tossed another fist, which Liam dodged with a snort. Once at a safe distance: “And Jack refused to take part in that pact."

“Which means you need to be the one to fork over what it is he told you," Henry demanded. “Or else."

Oliver gulped. “Or… or else what?"

Henry formed the fingers from his free hand into claws, into that I'm gonna get you gesture. “Or else I'm gonna do the gayest thing I'm willing to do with any other man." He looked over to Liam as if for approval, earning himself a nod.

“He's right, you know," Liam said. “No one is watching. We're out here alone in this forest. We're heading to a destination that no one wants to even be near. There are no witnesses. No one to save you. Don't force Henry to do it."

“Please don't," Oliver begged.

“I will…" Henry closed and opened his fingers together a few times. “I'll do it."

“Please…"

“Just spill the beans, already, Oliver," Liam urged. “For your sake."

“I'm gonna do it," Henry warned.

“Please don't."

“Oliver… just say it." Worry broke Liam's face. “Just say it. I don't think I can watch. Oh, god…"

“No… he made me promise I won't say anything."

“Say what?" Henry demanded, fingers closing in and out, in and out. He moved his clawed hand closer, the other still gripping Oliver's backpack, even as Oliver tried his best to jostle himself free. Oliver shook his head. “Don't make me do it, Oliver. Don't make me do this gay shit."

“No, please don't…"

But Henry could no longer wait, could no longer hold back the fury of his fingers. Laughter cracked through the forest, silencing the nearby insects and sending a flock of thrushes disappearing into the blue afternoon sky. Henry's hand dug into the sensitive flesh around Oliver's slim abdomen. Oliver fought back between fits of laughter, but his scrawny arms were no match for the strong, toned ones holding him in place and tickling him.

Oliver gasped for breath. “Stop! Please!"

“There's only one way to get me to stop doing this gay-ass shit!"

“Just say whatever it is you need to say, bro!" Liam encouraged. “The tickling will stop if you just say it."

After a few more seconds of the flurry of fingers, tears forming at the edge of his eyes, Oliver finally shouted, “Jack is gay!"

Henry froze. He released Oliver who doubled over to catch his breath, rubbing his belly.

A smile crept through Liam's face.

“God dammit!" Henry shouted, shucking off his backpack to dig out his wallet buried somewhere between fresh clothes and granola bars. He handed Liam a crisp twenty-dollar bill.

“I knew it!" Liam beamed, pocketing the twenty after giving it a mocking sniff from end to end. “No wonder he wouldn't take part in our little honesty pact!"

“How? Why?" Henry demanded, his head spinning back and forth in confusion. “He and I work out together all the damn time! Gay guys don't get ripped like that! He doesn't have that limp wrist action some of them gays have. And he dresses… well… normal."

“Tell me, Henry," Liam said. “What do gay guys typically wear?"

The hairs on Henry's arms began to stand on end—a warning system, he once said, when he was about to say something completely un-PC. “Oh, you know… gay guy… stuff?"

“Like?"

“Oh, I don't fucking know! Jean shorts. Short shorts. Homo shorts. Anything that reveals way too much thigh." Henry recommenced the hike towards their destination. “Jack just doesn't seem the gay type. For one, he's hairy as all fuck. Doesn't shave down until he's a smooth twink-boy like Oliver here."

“Hey!" Oliver's voice cracked. “I've got some peach fuzz, dolt!"

Ignoring him: “Plus, I've never once caught him"—he flexed an arm for Oliver and Liam to revere from behind—“checking me out."

Liam rolled his eyes. “And what makes you think a bicep is all it takes to win over anyone's affections?"

“Whatever," Henry said, his flex transforming into a dismissive hand wave. “Not a big deal anyway. Jack's gay. So what?" Henry tramped along the path without another word, all three men focusing on their thoughts within the shade of the trees, avian warbling and the distant sounds of animal movement—probably white-tailed deer—peppering their thoughts.

“You knew, Liam?" Oliver finally peeped as he crept behind, having fallen last this time. “About Jack?"

“Well, it's obvious," Liam affirmed, tossing his head back to see Oliver still holding his head down. “Think about it. Ever since he moved here, ever since you introduced him to us, he's not once had a girlfriend. Not once talked about girls. Heck, by the time we were sixteen, Henry here probably already bred an army of mini-Henries who are all now scurrying around their trailer parks wondering where daddy is while their mothers subsist on government assistance checks."

“Harsh, Liam, harsh," Henry said, “especially for you."

“Too much?"

“And inaccurate," Henry added. “I only got my dick sucked by a few gals from school by the time I could drive. Pussy didn't fall in my lap until after I graduated, thank you very much!"

“Aren't you the saint!"

Henry scoffed. “Not quite." They continued down the trail, ducking below a low-hanging branch. Henry let out a huff. “No wonder my present fell flat on his eighteenth birthday. Remember when I took him to the strip club? God, he was so shy. Got him a lap dance and everything, and all he did was blush. Just thought he was being the coyest fuckin' bastard on the planet."

“Quite the heteronormative present you got him," Liam mocked, but then under his breath: “Although it beats the dumb necklace I gave…"

Ignoring him: “But now that makes me wonder…. Was he getting like… boy puss or something when we were in high school? Oliver?"

“I…" Oliver started. “I don't know."

“Well, you're his confidante," Henry insisted. “I mean, you guys moved in together for a reason. He likes you. He's always liked you best. You're quiet like he is. Two birds of a feather and all that."

“Yes, but he doesn't tell me everything," Oliver explained. “For instance, I think he might like one of… uh…"

“One of?" Liam raised an eyebrow. “One of…"

“Forget it."

“One of us." Henry stopped.

Then Liam.

Then Oliver.

“I… I think so."

“Who?" Henry said. “Oh god… maybe he had been checking me out. He was the one who suggested that we work out together. God, we've been gym partners for the last three years. Think of all the free eye candy I've provided him!"

“For Pete's sake," Liam said. “You're so full of yourself."

Henry spun around and grabbed his crotch. “Well, he probably snuck a peek in the showers afterward. Not very fair, though. Dude showers with underwear on! Can you believe that? A ripped dude like Jack being all shy?" He gave his crotch a few firm lifts. Oliver avoided looking at the bulge there. Liam looked, unafraid, and simply rolled his eyes. “Can't say I blame him showering next to me. This thing's a curse, really. I'm single cause I hurt every girl I end up fuckin'."

“I believe it's the ugly, blunt object you call your wit that hurts them most," Liam spat. “I swear my IQ has dropped several points since the start of this little trek."

“Why are you taking us to a place where a black bear mauled and ate two people?" Oliver questioned, his head lifting. “And how the hell did I let you both drag me into this?"

Henry scoffed, ducking below a branch. As if on cue, their cabin appeared ahead through the foliage. “The couple who rented that cabin weren't mauled by bears. That shit was a coverup. A misreport to the news media to hide what really happened."

After an exaggerated gasp, Liam scoffed, “Not the fake news!"

“A murder," Oliver stated, ignoring Liam.

“Precisely. This cabin was drenched in blood. You don't close a cabin from a bear attack. Black bears sneak into camp all the time. This was a murder. And the guy was never caught."

Henry disappeared around the cabin. Liam and Oliver glanced at each other.

“Why would anyone wait to murder someone here?" Oliver wondered aloud. “God, it's like a _Friday the 13th_movie."

“Don't know," Liam offered with a shrug. “A black bear attack sounds more logical to me."

“They were lovers!" Henry shouted from around the cabin. Oliver and Liam gave each other one last look before turning the corner to join their fearless leader, just in time to witness him kick open the front door to the cabin, busting off the latch. Footprints followed Henry up the steps of the dusty porch that nature had decorated with weeds, dead leaves, and bird droppings over the years. From inside the dark cabin: “Some say it was a crazed ex-lover wreaking jealous vengeance upon the two of 'em. Ain't it crazy what love does to people? Makes 'em do shit they would otherwise never think of doing!"

“This really is sounding like the plot to an awful slasher movie," Liam said, taking a cautionary step into the darkness and the dank, musty odor of the cabin. He could barely make out the shapes inside the room from the light that pooled from the open doorway and the windows clouded with grime: a wood-burning stove, four bunks along the walls, a defaced countertop.

Oliver plugged his nose as he peeped inside with his portable lantern. The foam mattresses in the bunks looked dirty and uncomfortable, and the counter top had grown a surface coat of dust. Oliver stuck his tongue out in disapproval. Henry, noticing Oliver's disgust, explained how the cabin had been closed for rentals for the last couple years or so after the two reported deaths. Out of all the cabins in the area, this one was farthest from the main campground… and, thus, the hardest for the park rangers to watch. It made sense that they would just close it down.

“And you seriously want us to spend the night here?" Oliver shot Henry a look, which almost made their so-called fearless leader swallow.

“Just needs a little housekeeping is all."

“It's not bad, Olive Juice," Liam piped in.

“Don't call me that!"

“But that's how you make me feel when I just mouth those two words." Liam pretended to say them again, his lips enunciating “Olive Juice" to make it appear like he was saying three little words of affection instead.

“Stop that," Oliver said. “I love you, too. As a friend. Barely."

“Yes," Liam began, “and as one of your best buds in the whole wide world, I say we give this place a shot. It's just one night."

Oliver nodded as if trying to convince himself of the ephemeral nature of their stay. “I just can't wait to get back to the cabin we actually rented. It was clean. No one was murdered. And we're there legally."

“We are technically trespassing here, Henry," Liam seconded.

“Guys, guys…" Henry said, pulling the two of them into a group hug that featured a solo participant—its initiator. “Just because we've all turned twenty-one and are fully fledged adults, it shouldn't mean we puss out on all of life's little adventures!"

“True. But that doesn't mean we should garner ourselves a criminal record."

“Liam, don't tell me you're getting cold feet now!" Henry spat, grunting an annoyed uff-da that prompted the group hug to disband_._ “You supported this from the start."

“Oh, and I still do," Liam countered. “Just good to play devil's advocate. Make sure our ducks are in a row. Sometimes it's the gray ones that take our lives for a spin like a children's game. We're chased and chased and chased in the hopes that we'll get lucky and find a spot in our lives—something safe and close—that offers a respite from the drama that always and inevitably ensues from such poor decisions."

“Quit trying to be so fuckin' deep," Henry scoffed.

“And what about the fact that we'd be sleeping in a place where two people were butchered, hmm?" Oliver stepped out back into the sunlight, the couple wooden steps creaking below his feet.

“What's the worst that can happen?" Henry followed him down the steps. “Not like their ghosts are around to watch you sleep and beat off in the place of their demise."

“Perhaps," Oliver said, crossing his arms. “But seeing this place—it's just not right. Gives me the creeps."

Liam finally joined them down the stairs. He said, “Remember, it's just for one night. We'll be awake the next morning before you know it and joining Jack back at our cabin."

“But… but…"

“Look," Henry said, placing a hand on Oliver's shoulder. “Let's take a dip in the lake like we planned. You know… cool off. No worries about anything. Just three dudes celebrating the fact they all made it to the last birthday that means anything."

“Hooray for turning twenty-one," Oliver said, his foot tracing small circles in the dirt. “Except the last in our group to do so isn't here. He's the one who set this whole thing up, remember?"

“He'll be here soon," Liam said. “That's when the real fun begins."

* * *

Giant spruce trees bordered the north side of the lake, while the aspens and birches shimmied from a slight breeze on the east and west sides. The lake glittered from what was left of the afternoon sun drifting through the open, cloudless sky before them. Unsurprising to Henry, Oliver had concern about getting caught in the waters after dark, and he worried they would have difficulty finding the murder cabin in which to sleep, somehow, for the night. He also wondered aloud if there were any weird lake critters that could bite or pinch or break skin or cause injury or any modicum of discomfort. This led to him wondering how well the lakes were cleaned up. He remembered a documentary featuring an actor from The Lord of the Rings who had stepped into the water that was not thoroughly scanned for debris. A shard of glass ended up piercing his foot, delaying filming and leading to a type of injury Oliver had no desire of sustaining. He then assured Henry that he at least packed a first aid kit, and he had been trained on basic first aid and could help Henry or Liam if one of them ended up getting injured themselves. However, he noted, if he was the one that ended up hurt, he hoped the two of them remembered the little they had paid attention to during their high school health and safety class.

“You'll be fine, Oliver," Henry said, opening up his backpack on the sandy shore. “Our cabin is just ten minutes away. And I've helped bandage a guy who cut himself deep at the auto shop. Just relax. Breathe."

Oliver sucked in a breath as instructed.

“Good!" Henry said as he slipped off his shirt, revealing a fuzzy collection of abs and a meaty chest. His nipples were hard and dark, and a thicker trail of hair converged between his lower abs, leading to his crotch that was safely concealed inside his hiking pants. “This trip is meant to be fun. Leave your worries behind for a weekend, all right?"

Oliver nodded, pulling off his shirt as well, revealing a smooth but trim body. Pale skin wanted for sun, but he dug through his backpack for sunscreen, slathering it over his lanky arms and torso. “I burn easily," he explained when Henry gave a quizzical look. “I'm like a marshmallow over a bonfire."

“The sun is already so low!"

“Trust me. You tan. I burn." Oliver handed over the bottle and turned his back. “Would you?"

Henry rolled his eyes and obliged, massaging the pungent, white goop over Oliver's back, a thick hand working over the ridges of bone. When he finished, he gave his hand a sniff and recoiled. “I hate the smell of this."

“Doesn't bother me." Oliver stuffed the bottle of sunscreen back into his bag.

“Where's Liam anyhow? He said he was just off to take a quick piss. Told him he could just go in the water."

“Gross," Oliver spat. “No. Please no."

Henry chuckled, but then his face went solemn. “You know… Liam actually told me he had no desire to swim. He said he'd be fine shacking up in the cabin with a book."

“Yeah, Liam's always been the reader—the only student in our old English class who actually enjoyed To Kill a Mockingbird."

Henry shuddered. Under his breath: “Harper Lee… how I curse that name."

“Makes sense, though," Oliver continued, ignoring Henry's abhorrence for classical authors. “Super smart guy."

“Super smart but, you know…" Henry made a gesture of a hanging, obese belly in front of him.

“Dude, don't make fun of him for that! Not everyone can have a body like yours."

“Wasn't making fun," Henry clarified. “I'm just saying he's always been shy about that. The few times we've gone swimming together as kids, he's always worn a shirt in the pool. I always tell him there's no need. All the shirts just fade from the chlorine, anyway."

“I know he pokes fun at me for barely kissing my first girl…" Oliver said, touching up a few missed spots on his skin with sunscreen. “But I don't think he's ever kissed one either. He mentioned that Jack never talks girls… but thinking about it, neither does he."

“He won't ask a girl out 'cause he's embarrassed by how fat he is," Henry explained, although his eyes darted around innocently when Oliver gave him a look. “Uh… by how… skinny-impaired he is." Another look. “Pleasantly plump?"

Oliver shook his head with a disappointed sigh, although he still grinned. “So, you think he's just gone to read a book instead?"

“Hope not." Henry slipped off his pants and underwear, his maleness swinging heavily from his crotch.

Oliver averted his eyes. “Jeez… thanks for the warning!"

“What? It's just a dick." Henry cracked a grin, gyrating his hips so his dick spun around like a windmill. “You intimidated by its size?"

“I'm not intimidated!" Oliver spat, glaring Henry in the eyes as the man continued to gyrate. Oliver's eyes peeked down at Henry's junk, making Henry stop to laugh. Oliver rolled his eyes. “Besides. Jack is bigger."

“Oh, ho ho!" Henry jeered. “So, the man showed off his junk to you, eh? I'm wondering if that means something. Tell me—was that before or after he admitted he likes the fellas?"

“He didn't show off to me," Oliver said. “I found him on the couch one morning. He was studying late and tottered off to dream land. Shoulda seen that morning wood his shorts struggled to contain. Definitely bigger than you."

“Bigger than nine inches? I mean, I've seen how bulgy the man is. Kinda hard to ignore every time I spot him. By the way, the dude is strong. Benches three hundred! But, seriously. For real, Oliver. More than nine?"

“Yeeeeep. It's likely that you're second place in our little group."

“Second place, eh?" Henry smirked. “Does that make you third or fourth, then? Or are you just being modest?"

Henry stood there and grinned as Oliver maintained his gaze, a look of hesitation creeping on his face. Without skipping another beat, Oliver sighed. “Fine. You curious? Have a look."

Oliver dropped his pants and boxers, letting them pool around his feet. Henry nodded, still grinning. “Well, well, Mr. Thick-as-Fuck. I am very much impressed."

Oliver's dick hung thickly from his trim body, its girth threatening to surpass that of its owner's wrists. Two large testicles also hung low, the girth of his malehood unable to hide their size.

“So answer me this, Oliver." Henry put on an invisible thinking cap and rested his chin on a fist. “You're obviously thicker than I am—not as long, I must say—but definitely thicker. The ladies must love you. You get, what, seven inches long?"

Oliver nodded, redness returning to his face.

“Then what's stopping you from getting some puss? It's hard to believe you're still a virgin."

“I'm… I'm not a virgin, Henry!" Oliver managed. “That girl I kissed last year… we ended up doing it, all right?"

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… and you didn't say nothin'?" Henry gestured towards the piece of meat Oliver was packing. “She must've loved that thing!"

Oliver blushed, his hands covering up his size as best he could. “It's… not something worth bragging about, all right? I'm not like you. I don't go looking to sex up everything that walks."

Henry nodded. “Fair enough. Did you like it? How was it? Don't tell me everyone else knows about this fling of yours and I don't?"

“Oh, god, Henry, can we just go swimming already?" Oliver kicked off his clothes along with some sand before heading to the water, navigating through rocks slick with algae.

“No, no, no…" Henry said, following Oliver in. The gelid lake bit at their legs, prompting Oliver to stop. “Just water, Oliver. And it's just sex. Best not to overthink things and just go for it. See?"

Henry dived in, and then shot up from the shallow depths with a shout, cursing the lake for being so cold between a barrage of laughter. A tiny smile formed at the edge of Oliver's mouth before he dived in as well, soon erupting through the surface with his own cursing and laughter. Both men shivered, goose bumps forming on their skin. But soon their bodies acclimated, and the shivering stopped, and both men found they could swim about without too much discomfort.

“See?" Henry said. “Sometimes you just have to dive right in."

Oliver nodded. “It was great, all right. The, uh… the sex, that is."

Henry nodded his approval, lifting his hand up for a high five, which Oliver obliged. “Bet she loved that thick dick of yours."

“She did. She moaned like mad. And she took all of it." Oliver blushed again, eyes dropping to focus on the ripples both men made in the water. “I never came so hard in my life…."

“Yeah! That's what I'm talking about!" Henry cheered. “Pussy feels so good! Gonna try anal? Damn… talk about tight!"

“Well, I don't know…." Oliver said. He turned, still blushing. The warmth in his ears threatened to evaporate the water surrounding him.

“Holy shit!" Henry shouted. “You're totally boning up, aren't you?"

“You're making me think about that night! What did you expect?"

“Lemme see how big you get!"

“What? No!"

“Dude. I gotta see that monster hard." Henry waded over to see, but all Oliver did was turn, keeping his back faced towards Henry's prying eyes. Henry only laughed and leapt onto Oliver's back, peeking over his shoulder to see Oliver's erection jutting mightily from the shallow water, thick and veiny, his foreskin stretched back to reveal a bulging head.

Henry laughed in disbelief. “Fuck me… no wonder she loved you."

“God, Henry. Get off me."

“No thanks," Henry said as he dipped backwards to float in the water. “That's the job for the ladies. I can certainly appreciate things from afar, though. But I treat such things as fancy museum exhibits: no touching."

Oliver couldn't help but laugh and splash his friend with the frigid water, provoking a yelp. “Not what I meant, sicko!"

Both friends exchanged splashes of water over laughs. But Oliver and Henry stopped suddenly, heads turning to shore after a flash of movement caught their attention.

“A black bear?" Oliver wondered.

“Hope not…" Henry whispered.

But then out of the trees stepped Liam, fully clothed in navy blue swimming trunks and a faded blue t-shirt. His long hair drooped down his back, no longer tied in a ponytail. He dropped his backpack next to the other two resting in the sand. Oliver sighed in relief. Henry waved.

“Hey, guys," Liam called as they waded back to shore. “Sounds like you two are having a cheery ol' time."

“Where the hell have you been?" Henry said, stepping out of the lake. Water cascaded down his body, hair clinging to his impressively muscular form. Liam's eyes quickly darted to Henry's malehood, still large and hanging loosely from his crotch despite the coldness of the lake.

“Didn't realize skinny dipping was the plan," Liam said, glancing to Oliver who still waded half-concealed in the water.

“Care to join us?" Henry gestured at the water around him.

“I'm here, aren't I?" Liam tested the water with a toe before stepping in. “Damn. It's freezing!"

“It's not bad," Oliver called out. “And I'm not insulated."

Liam winced at the implication of this, which Oliver noticed, shouting over an apology. “Totally not what I meant, Liam!"

“It's okay." Liam took another step.

“Sorry, bro," Henry said, stepping before Liam to blockade his path. “This lake has rules."

“Rules?"

“Terms of use."

“And what are they?" Liam said, doing his best to avoid looking at Henry's crotch. “Lemme guess. This party requires formal attire."

“Precisely. Your birthday suit, to be exact."

“Excellent!" Liam reported, stepping past Henry. “It just so happens my birthday suit comes fully accessorized."

“Ah, come on, Liam," Oliver said. “Henry made me do it, too."

“I didn't make you do nothin'!" Henry shouted. “You just dropped it on your own. You're a total show off!" Henry turned to then address Liam, jabbing a thumb over to Oliver. “The dude's packing a monster in there." Henry grabbed the base of his dick and gave it a shake as he said, “He's thicker than me! Me!"

Liam growled under his breath. “Henry, you of all people know I don't like this. At all."

“Ah, lighten up, Liam!" Henry said. “We've all been friends for a long time. What's the worst that can happen?"

Liam didn't respond, staring back blankly.

“How about just your shirt?" Oliver offered. “No one's gonna judge you. I mean, look at me, I'm a twig!"

“A twig sporting quite the tree branch," Henry quipped.

“Oh, shut up." Oliver then turned back to Liam. “Seriously, Liam. We all know you're a little husky. That's fine. We just want to bond with you."

“And bonding with me requires that I take off my shirt?" Liam said. “I'm sure there are plenty other ways to bond that don't require I get half-naked."

“Dude…" Henry whispered. “It's okay, seriously. I know I'm ripped and hung and all that shit… but I just got lucky with the genes. You know the rest of us are jealous of your brains. I feel stupid next to you. I couldn't even complete one semester of college. You're a brilliant guy… straight A's every class since elementary school. I admire that. This trip was meant to bond us together, like Oliver said. This is why Jack set this up. We all made it to twenty-one. See this as a rite of… a rite of… oh, what the fuck do you call it?"

“Rite of passage."

“Yeah! Just do this with us. And don't worry. I'll make Jack do the same. We'll all get to see each other."

Liam released a breath. “This is not what I signed up for." With that, he lifted his shirt overhead and tossed it onto shore, revealing a hefty gut striped with faint stretch marks and quarter-sized nipples, his chest lightly dusted with soft, brown hair. Instinctively, Liam folded his arms over his chest.

“Now, now, now," Henry started. “There's nothing to be ashamed about."

“I don't have a nice chest like yours," Liam countered, wading deeper into the lake towards Oscar. “Just let me go in the water and be done with this. You're making this awkward as all hell."

“Why?" Henry said, pouncing on Liam from behind, and reaching around to cop a feel. “Because you got man-boobs?"

Liam spun around and grabbed Henry's wrists as he went for another squeeze. “Stop it, Henry! Not funny."

Henry chuckled, and let his arms go slack, cueing that his shenanigans were over. “Dude, you're fine the way you are. I'm just messin'."

“Easy for you to say," Liam said.

Oliver chimed in: “Henry, you've always been the fit one. How do you think Liam feels?"

“Ah, come on, guys," Henry whined. Liam just looked at him, blank-faced. Henry sighed. “Look, I'm sorry. I know I don't have to worry about my weight like you do, Liam. I just want you to know that none of us are judging you, you know. We're your bros."

Liam closed his eyes. “I appreciate that." He opened them, offering his own sigh. “Sorry, I don't mean to be so uptight. I hate this. I really do. It's… embarrassing."

“Well, if anyone makes fun of you, just lemme at 'em, ya hear?" Henry said, sending a fist to his palm. “I'll make quick work of 'em like I did that one asshole that used to tease you nonstop in Biology. What the fuck was his name again? Eh, doesn't matter. He called you a fat-ass, and I gave him a fat lip."

Liam laughed. “Yeah, you did. He stopped taunting me from there on out. Although diplomacy over violence would have been preferable."

Henry acknowledged that with a nod. “But sometimes people only speak the language of violence, Liam. Sometimes a fist says exactly what needs saying. Quicker results, too!"

“Might makes right, eh?" Liam said, inviting an emphatic nod. However, Henry quickly followed that with a quizzical look when Liam added, “Worked for the Athenians when they invaded Melos."

Oliver shivered. “I don't like the sound of that at all."

“It's how the world sometimes works," Henry said thoughtfully. He shook his head, then nodded with a smile so emphatic he was like some damn anime character. “But where were we. Ah, yes. The trunks, Liam."

“The trunks?"

“Yes, the trunks—of the swimming variety. The only thing you're wearing now. Only half done, you know!"

“The shirt was painful enough!"

“And did anything bad happen?" Henry said, waiting for a response. Liam only stuttered incoherently. “Thought so. Off with 'em. You've seen my junk." Henry beckoned for Oliver to come closer and join them. “And you've got to see what Oliver's packing!"

“Dude, seriously," Liam said, turning around to head for shore. “Why is this necessary?"

Henry grabbed Liam's wrist. “It'll be good for you. Trust me."

“Let go, Henry!" Liam cried, jerking his arm free. “I'm heading back to the cabin. Recruit Oliver into your dick-viewing fantasies. Just leave me out."

Oliver's toes dug into the soft earth below him. His heart pounded as he watched Liam stamp off through the water, shouting back for the two of them to get along. Henry followed close behind, grabbing Liam by the wrist again and turning him around just as he made it back to shore. Oliver watched his two friends exchange words, their angry tones sending a few peeping thrushes off to perch on a further tree. Then Henry dipped his head into Liam's ear as if to whisper something, presumably, although Oliver couldn't hear anything, prompting him to wade over to join them.

“Is everything all right?" Oliver wondered softly. “This little vacation was supposed to draw us together, not tear us apart. What the hell did you say to him, Henry?"

Liam gave Oliver a quick glance as he joined them then turned his attention back to Henry. “He said something that made sense for once."

“What?" Oliver wondered.

“Look, Liam," Henry added, ignoring Oliver. “When you and I talked about what we should do on this trip, you made a point that resonated deeply with me. You worried that our friendship would fade away over time. It already has ever since you, Olive Juice, and Jack started college, leaving me behind. University life isn't for me. You're all seniors now. Graduating soon. And you have plans for heading east for grad school."

“You're leaving us, Liam?" Oliver asked. “You once told me you were planning on sticking around and finding an in-state job."

“It's… possible." Liam sighed. “My professors love my undergraduate research, the fact that I run a club, and have worked for the department as a TA. They want me to get a PhD, and that the odds are in my favor for getting a teaching assistantship. No one's believed in me like that before."

“Go for it, dude," Henry said. “We all believe in you. I'm sorry if you ever felt like we didn't."

“Yeah, you're brilliant, Liam," Oliver added.

“I… thanks…" Liam said. “I love you guys. I really do."

“The reason why I'm pushing for this weird stupid thing," Henry started, “you know… just getting naked together. It's not some homo-fantasy. Come on. You've seen how many girlfriends I go through in a year."

Oliver and Liam exchanged knowing looks.

“Shut up," Henry said, smiling briefly before his face went solemn again. “It's just… twenty-one is our last big year. Jack just turned twenty-one. Shortly after you did, Oliver. We can all hit the bars now. Do some really fun shit before we all start going our separate ways. Jack had the right idea doing this trip first. This will be one of our last opportunities to really bond, to really make memories together. To show how much we trust each other. Getting naked like this… it's just a way to be truly… oh, god, what's that word? Start's with a V."

“Vulnerable," Liam offered.

“I wish I had your vocabulary."

Liam smirked.

“I love you, man," Henry said. “I just want you to feel like you can trust me. And Oliver. And Jack, too. Don't worry. We'll get Jack to whip it out tomorrow."

Liam let out a small laugh, finally glancing down at Oliver's malehood, noticing how the foreskin barely covered the bulbous head, the thickness of his shaft, and the huge nuts that accompanied it.

“For fuck's sake, Oliver, you are a monster."

“Stop…" Oliver said, covering himself up as best he could with his small hands.

“And you too, Henry," Liam said, rolling his eyes, as he glanced over Henry's sex. Although not quite as thick as Oliver's, it hung probably another couple inches lower, a prominent vein feeding his entire length. “Guys… I am nothing like you two. Not even close."

“So?" Henry said. “It's just a dick. Does yours work?"

“Does it work?"

“Yeah, does your dick work? Does it get hard? Does it feel good when you beat off? Can you cum?"

“Option E." Liam swallowed. “All of the above."

“Well, good. That's all that matters! A properly working dick. Now let's see it so we can get some swimming in before it gets dark."

Liam glanced at Oliver who smiled softly and said, “I know it's embarrassing… but I think Henry's right on this one. It's actually liberating."

“Easy for you two to say," Liam grumbled. But both his friends looked at him curiously, waiting. Liam bit his lower lip as he hooked his thumbs into his pants. Just as he gave a breath, he stopped himself short of revealing himself, replacing his bravery with a head shake, crossed arms, and a head turn. “You know why I took so long to join you guys? I sure as hell wasn't taking a piss for that long. I was stalling. I just hate swimming—not because I'm hydrophobic or averse to physical activity. It's because seeing all these—"

“All these fit dudes like me," Henry completed. “And guys like Oliver who don't have to deal with all that extra fat."

Liam sighed in agreement. “It reminds me how I can ace every exam I take, but I can't even find the will to exercise or to eat more salads than pizza and ramen most nights. And on top of that… look at you two!" Liam gestured at their impressive malehoods. “I just don't get what happened to me! So I hid in the woods fighting the urge to bunker down at the cabin and read. I packed a few books for this occasion. Honestly, I only came over 'cause becoming victim número tres for some killer black bear didn't appeal to my, you know, desire to live. So I told myself to man up, slipped on the swimming gear, and here I am. I took off my shirt… and now you wanna see my junk. I don't like this, Henry."

“I show you mine, you show me yours," Henry said. “We won't judge."

“Remember what you said when you made the truth pact with us, Liam?" Oliver added. “You quoted some Lebanese writer you were obsessed with one whole summer."

“Kahlil Gibran."

“Yes. I'll forget his name in five minutes, but I'll always remember the quote you mentioned: 'Truth is a deep kindness that teaches us to be content in our everyday life and share with the people the same happiness.' You said that you wanted us to share in that happiness. You didn't want shallow, fair-weather friends who only knew and liked the surface-level sides of our personalities. You said you felt revealing ourselves more deeply would strengthen our bond, that we would all become deeper as friends. Happier maintaining each other's company. Remember? And I believe that can happen now if you just share us your truth."

“I get what you're saying… I just don't know, Oliver…"

“Well, think of it this way, then," he continued. “If we judge you for this little thing—uh, sorry, poor choice of words there—I mean… if we stop being your friends over this, then perhaps we weren't the true friends you were wanting—that you're needing. You can go off to grad school away from us with a clear conscience. However, the likely outcome is we see it, accept it, have fun swimming, go get potentially murdered in our death cabin tonight, and continue being the friends we've always been since elementary school."

“God… all this just to see my dick." Liam closed his eyes, a tiny grin peeking from the side of his mouth, then released a quick “Fuck it!" before dropping his swimming trunks, kicking them off into the dirt close to their backpacks. Henry and Oliver glanced down to see what he was packing, a couple inches of cock jutting from the meaty fat pad where curly, brown pubic hairs grew. His balls were tucked in tight from the cold. Liam could feel himself burning up, but he somehow kept his hands from blockading the view in shame.

“Told you guys I'm small. How the hell did you two get so hung?"

“Dude, you're perfectly fine," Henry said, smiling and stroking Liam's shoulder encouragingly. “I'm sure there are some neophyte dick-suckers out there that would love to start off with you." He leaned in for another whisper. “Did I use that word correctly? 'Neophyte'? I've heard you use it before, but now I'm not so sure…."

Liam snickered and affirmed that he was correct. Oliver even chimed in that being big isn't always so great, especially when having to stand in front of class when a random boner decides to pop in for a quick hello. This made Liam laugh and Henry chime in sympathetically, offering how PE had been the worst, as benching heavy always got him hard. At nine inches, it was difficult to hide, and all the guys would always make fun of him, although no one said anything in the showers, Henry quickly pointed out. None of them were laughing when he had the longest dick of them all. Plus, it was gay to talk about dick in the showers anyhow, although he suspected many of them stole a quick peek.

“I'm sure you had plenty of guys checking you out too for being so"—Henry winked as he gave Liam's bottom a smack and a grope—“thicc."

“I swear!" Liam started as Henry giggled and dove into the water before Liam could throttle the perv. He shouted after him, “You are the gayest straight guy I know!"

Henry emerged from the lake and blew a kiss at him, water dripping from his beard.

Liam turned to Oliver at his side. “Although a recent turn of events," he said, rubbing the reddening cheek Henry had smacked, “makes me wonder if it's the other way around."

“Definitely," Oliver added. “His use of 'thicc' with the double Cs makes it seem that's the case."

More laughter. All three men found themselves plunging into the cold waters again, showing off their breaststrokes and doggy paddling skills, holding water free-for-all fights, and making the acquaintance of several ciscoes brave enough to swim by. Liam role-played as a ghost from some Japanese horror movie they've watched before, his long, wet hair draped over his face. He made a croaking sound and chased Oliver around the shallower waters. The sun continued to sink lower as they enjoyed each other's naked company in the lake, peppering the evening with dick jokes. As they distracted themselves in the water, on shore the trees rustled again, and a dark figure moved, slowly and silently, going unseen by all three of them.

* * *

Liam stole a quick glance as Henry toweled off his hair, the movement of his body making his genitalia sway about. He turned his head back to tying his shoes when Henry finished and grinned down at him. Short, brown hair spiked this way and that from the dampness. The towel made its way to Henry's crotch to dry the darker hairs of his trimmed pubes, then the long shaft and loose, low-hanging balls. Liam offered another quick glance when Henry turned and bent over to extract a pair of shorts from his backpack, the globes of his taut ass saluting him, showing off his hairy crack and the back of his balls and dick as they dangled between his legs.

“You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" Liam said.

Henry peeked between his legs. “Enjoying the view?"

Liam rolled his eyes as Henry chuckled and slipped on his shorts.

Orange light filtered through the darkening sky, signaling the oncoming sunset. Around him, Liam could hear the songs of male katydids stridulating from the trees—music to accompany the colors of dusk. Oliver had already ducked out half an hour ago, afraid of getting caught outside after dark, afraid of getting lost on the way back to the cabin, afraid of some nocturnal black bear coming out to add another three victims to the list. Henry and Liam had shooed Oscar away, wanting another few minutes of relaxation time in the cool water.

Fully dressed and shoes tied, Liam packed his things and zipped up his pack, careful to make sure his ponytail didn't get caught as he slung it on. Henry shrugged on his own backpack, only clad in his shorts. Liam raised an eyebrow.

“Don't give me that look," Henry snapped. “Yes, there are deer ticks and all sorts of shit out here, but the cabin isn't far."

“Better head out then before Oliver faints from the loneliness."

Both started up the trail through the trees, Liam trailing behind Henry as usual. At first, there was only silence save for their steps that quieted the nearby katydids and Liam's occasional grunt up the sandy incline. About halfway to the cabin, Liam attempted to speak but only managed a croak that Henry didn't seem to hear. Liam cleared his throat and said more forcefully, “Thanks, by the way."

“For what?" Henry tossed back without looking.

“For this…"

“You talking about what I whispered to you earlier?"

“Well, for this trip. It's nice getting together with the boys again like we used to before we graduated from high school. I miss the four of us just getting to hang out again. I know Jack won't be here until tomorrow, but to be honest… just you, Oliver, and me… it reminds me of when we were all eight and nine again, before Jack moved next door to Oliver."

“Those were good times! We certainly played the shit out of my older brother's Wii. I remember Oliver laughing until he drooled from that Wario game."

“Yeah. And your brother was livid when you accidentally chucked the controller into his flat-screen."

“My dad spanked me good for that one," Henry admitted with a scoff. “It's all right. That prepared my booty for the bedroom, know what I mean?"

“You are the most awful person in existence."

“Don't knock it till you try it. Or knock a lady up, at least."

“Yeah…"

Henry slowed to a trot until he was walking in tandem with Liam.

“Still hung up over your v-card not getting its first hole punch?"

“No, it's not that," Liam said, “although I appreciate you keeping that between us. Oliver's a good guy and I know he'd be supportive, but god… it's still embarrassing."

“He knows… he actually mentioned it at the lake a bit."

“Well, fuck…"

Henry reached an arm around his friend in a half-hug. “I know it sucks, dude. That dick of yours needs a taste of pussy, stat. How about once this trip is over, we scout the bars in Dinkytown and I be your wingman, hmm? I know a few gals turned on by big brains."

“I… don't know…"

“You worried about your size?"

“Well… yes, but it's not just—"

“Lemme tell you something I learned right before I dropped out of college. I was feeling pretty stupid and sorry for myself. Math just doesn't click for me, no matter how hard I tried. The numbers just get jumbled up in my head. Some sort of dyslexia except with numbers, you know?"

Liam nodded solemnly. “Dyscalculia."

Henry nodded back. “Anyway, some frat boy hit me up to join a party off campus where there'd be booze. Of course, all these college boys need to be woke these days, so they had nothing but brews from this nonprofit company to help make them feel good for drinking underage—Finnegans, I think, and good shit regardless. But not the point. I met this girl there after downing my third bottle. We found a spare room and fucked, of course. Tight as hell, dontcha know, and some big ol' tots. Loved the D, in case you were wondering—always a self-esteem booster. Loved squeezing all my muscles, even the booty glutes." Henry flexed them, inviting another eyeroll. “We ended up dating for a few weeks, and I was always looking to feel inside her, if you know what I mean!" Henry elbowed Liam a few times suggestively.

“Yes, you loved feeling inside her with your dick," Liam said, unamused. “I get it."

“It was exquisite. E-X-Q-U… uh…"

“I-S-I-T-E. Or, in the language of the bros: it felt boss."

“Boss?" Henry wondered. “People still say that kinda shit?" He chuckled, their cabin slipping into view through the foliage ahead, which prompted Liam to pick up the pace. “But yeah, it did feel great. But…" Henry stopped. Liam took several steps ahead before glancing behind to see Henry standing there with a pensive smile.

“Everything okay?"

“I thought this thing was all I needed, Liam." Henry clutched the base of his dick through the fabric of his shorts, the outline of his shaft becoming prominent even through the fading light of the evening. “We dined at a few restaurants, watched a couple movies and shared a tub of popcorn, met up a few times between classes to make out. Ended most nights in bed."

“And then suddenly—"

“And then suddenly she broke things off. You know why?"

“Vaginismus. She could no longer take that humongous thing."

“Vagi-what? No!" Henry said, beginning to look flustered. “She no longer wanted to take this humongous thing. She said I was boring. A dullard. I had nothing interesting to say during our dinner dates. She said I couldn't even say anything meaningful about the movies we watched. You know who she ended up dating? Her fuckin' math tutor!"

“I see the irony."

“Right?" Henry said, shaking his head as they continued their walk towards the cabin. “The subject I struggled with most. She gave up on me, and I gave up on college. Don't be afraid to get with a lady, Liam. Yes, your dick isn't huge. But that stuff's just good for porn. People want a partner who is more than just their dick size or waistline."

“Please don't take this the wrong way," Liam said, “but that is the most insightful thing I think I've ever heard you say. Must be something in the water back there."

Both men clambered onto the dusty porch, Oliver's silhouette moving about inside the cabin through the grime-tinted windows. Light blistered from his battery-operated lantern on the counter.

Henry dropped his voice. “What do you say? Let's get you a girl. What's your type?"

“My type?"

“Yeah? You like your bitches skinny, thick? Little boobs, big boobs? Long hair, short hair? So many delicious options!" Pinkness invaded Liam's cheeks as Henry rubbed his palms together hungrily. “Wait… you're a nerd, so you probably like that innocent library-girl-with-the-glasses look? Oh, maybe an older professor who can administer an oral exam to test your anatomy knowledge. Intelligence must be a turn on for you!" Then under his breath: “Damn… none of these are bad ideas, actually…"

“Jack!"

“Jack?"

Liam took a breath, eyes closing briefly as he collected himself. “Why did you two set this trip up, let's be real," he said. “Surely we're not here to get you your practice therapy hours? Delving into my deep-seated insecurities just to help me get laid?"

Henry frowned. “I'm just trying to help."

“Why are we here, Henry?"

“Look… I was saying the same thing earlier. Jack wanted us all to bond together. He couldn't make it today, but all the other cabins were booked for the entire summer already! The only reason we snagged this weekend was because the previous booking cancelled."

“What's got him held up today anyhow?"

“He wouldn't say. And I haven't seen him the last couple days. You know how he gets every month. Has that little travel bug. Likes to head up north on the regular to the family cabin they own. A damn shame he wouldn't just take us there."

“Yeah, I asked him about that," Liam said. “My poor college-student budget would have been thankful, but he insisted his cabin wouldn't be a good place for the four of us. I don't know why… his cabin is decked out, from what I hear. Running water, a generator for electricity, separate bedrooms, the works."

“Must be a family thing or something."

Liam shrugged, has hand pressing against the door. “Again—he wouldn't say." Liam pushed the door wide open, Oliver turning his head like a deer caught in the headlights. “But who am I to complain, huh?" He gestured inside. “Now we get to sleep in this lovely, dank murder cabin in which we're illegally occupying! I wouldn't trade this for a boring ol' safe cabin with all the amenities needed for comfortable living any day!"

“Look on the bright side, Liam!" Henry said, gesturing at Oliver who held his towel he had used earlier to dry himself off. Soiled now, it became clear that he'd been cleaning up the place, wiping down the dusty counter and the four bunkbeds. The place looked more livable. “Great job, Oliver. Just splendid. Lovely, even. You should consider a career change as a housemaid!"

Oliver frowned, tossing the dirty towel at Henry. “You're welcome! Thought I'd make the place more comfortable for us all."

With that, the three men settled in, Henry and Liam setting their backpacks down on their bunks, Henry claiming top-bunk, which was fine for Oliver who described how a fellow collegemate had sustained a concussion after falling off the top bunk in his dorm freshman year. Oliver then noted how, after children, bunk bed-related injuries affected their age group most.

“Best not eat either, then," Henry warned, tossing Oliver a bag of teriyaki beef jerky. “I remember you warning me how choking was like the third leading cause of unintentional injury-related deaths or some shit."

“Fourth," Oliver corrected. “One of my great uncles died that way."

“My condolences… I suppose we should prepare your funeral when you starve to death and join him."

Oliver shot a look, opened up the bag of jerky, tore off a chunk with his teeth, chewed as he continued giving Henry the stink eye, and swallowed emphatically with an audible gulp. Henry pounced on Oliver, jabbing him with his fingers for being such a drama queen.

Liam rolled his eyes as he settled into bed with a Billy Collins poetry book, turning on the reading light clipped to the cover. A small travel-sized pillow from his bag sank from the weight of his head. Liam's shoes were tucked neatly under his bunk, his socks having been balled up and stuffed inside them. The bunk groaned from his weight, and he shifted to find a comfortable spot for reading. Henry tossed Liam another bag of jerky—black pepper flavor, this time—and a water bottle, and Liam sat up to snack and converse as Henry tore through his own bag of jerky. When Liam brought attention to the fine camping feast they were enjoying, Henry promised they would fire up some gourmet peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a side of trail mix—something salty, savory, and piquant (the last word prompted Liam to raise an eyebrow considering the person saying it)—when they returned to the main cabin.

The darkness outside began to overtake the world as they chatted like old times. At one point, Oliver discussed what he and Jack did together on their free time, including the shows they Netflixed, the food they shared, and the college stories they swapped—awful professors, failed exams, and the like. Henry shot up as Oliver talked, and he dug through his backpack for a mahogany pocketknife and began carving into the countertop.

“What are you doing?" Oliver demanded. “That's vandalism! It's bad enough you're making us trespass here."

“It's fine. Everyone else has left their mark." Henry gestured to the other markings—some carved into the wood, others from permanent marker—of names, vulgarity, and penises. “Thought it'd be nice to let everyone know about you two love-birds. Y_ou're_ the one he likes from the sounds of it."

Oliver glared down at Henry's work: “Oliver + Jack" surrounded by a heart.

Henry guffawed as Oliver pounced on his back and yelled about Henry's awfulness—the complete worst. Eventually the conversation settled, leaving the three friends with only the light of the lantern as Liam stowed his book away after managing to read only a few poems. Henry and Oliver had made their beds, and Oliver, after sticking his tongue out at Henry, slipped inside his sleeping bag laid neatly on his own bottom bunk. Shoes thumped against the floor as Henry kicked them off. The bunk above Oliver squeaked and groaned as Henry threw himself on board, armed with nothing but a pillow, leaving Liam alone on the other bunkbed behind them. The empty bunk above Liam hogged most of his view.

“What is Jack even up to right now?" Liam wondered aloud. “Why couldn't he make it the first day?"

As Henry began to answer, a quiet howl drifted through the sky outside at some distance. Oliver shot up, his ears straining to pick up the noise. Another howl followed suit, lower but majestic.

“Just gray wolves," Henry said.

“Are they dangerous?" Oliver slipped deeper into his sleeping bag. “First black bears and now wolves? I don't think I'm cut out for the great outdoors. I'd take another blistering statistics exam over this."

“Gray wolves won't bother us, Oliver," Liam explained. “They avoid humans. We're more dangerous to them, really."

“He's right," Henry said. “Humans are the dangerous ones. The most dangerous. I mean, think of the two that got murdered here."

“Oh, not that again, Henry!" Oliver whined, hugging himself tightly from inside his sleeping bag. “Stop!"

“It wasn't murder," Liam insisted. “Just a dumb animal attack."

“Then how do you explain all the strange things happening afterward?"

“Strange things?" Oliver asked. “L-like what?"

“Well, think about that couple—how they were killed. Many suspect an ax outside was used… the one the lover brought to chop wood for a fire. The husband snuck in on them screwing—in that bunk you're in right now, Oliver, and one mighty swing to the side of his head"—Henry karate-chopped his hand—"and thwop! Dead in one blow. Blood gushing from the wound onto the cheating wife below him. She had nowhere to escape. Nowhere to run. Another thwop!" Henry karate-chopped again, Oliver flinching to the sound of a hand striking the open palm. “Two horrible, brutal deaths—just like that. At least the dude died happy. Must've sucked for the wife, though, watching the man she was cheating with die as he penetrated her." Henry shook his head, tossing in an empathetic uff-da. “Unfortunately, the bodies were never found… dragged off into the woods. Not a trace of either of 'em. Not even the murder weapon. I suspect it got buried with their bodies somewhere deep in the forest."

“What… what happened afterward?" Oliver sat up.

“Weird things started happening in this cabin," Henry continued. “They did close this cabin, but not until after they rented it out again once police finished their investigation and all the blood was cleaned. Of course, people hopped on the dirt-cheap rent despite the murders, which were misreported as a black bear attack, of course. Bullshit."

“Tell me this, Henry," Liam interrupted. “If the police didn't find the killer, the murder weapon, or any bodies, how do you know all this?"

“Let's just say I've read some convincing alternative explanations," Henry said. “You shouldn't be so gullible, Liam. Mainstream media are known to manipulate public opinion. And all the weird… activity in this place that occurred afterward. It all makes sense. Those two people were brutally murdered. Their bodies were never found. Their killer never got caught, never served jail time or got served the death penalty. Their spirits are here. People who rented this cabin afterward… they reported strange things… those who slept in your bunk, Oliver… they complained of feeling sharp pain on different places on their bodies… the very same places where those two were axed. Other reports complained of an awful metallic smell that would only arise at a very specific time in the evening… the time when the two were murdered—when their blood drenched the walls and the floorboards and that very bunk."

The sound of the zipper cut through the room.

“Fucking hell, Henry!" Oliver hopped out of his sleeping bag and then socked Henry in the shoulder, provoking a giggle. Oliver collected his sleeping bag and tossed it onto the other top bunk. Liam watched the moving silhouette, Oliver's body outlined by the glow of the lantern as he transferred himself over. Liam listened as the bunk above him groaned, Oliver slipping back into the sleeping bag in an attempt to get comfortable again. “Not funny!"

Another howl from outside, although a little louder this time. Oliver pressed his hands against his ears. “Stop!"

“Just the wolves, Oliver, it's okay," Liam said, then turning his attention towards Henry: “Care to stop over there? You're just making all this shit up."

“Nope!" Henry continued. “These things have been officially reported. Look it up!"

“Why oh why did you take us here?" Oliver whined.

“This'll be good for you," Henry said. “Perhaps their ghosts will visit us tonight. A couple renters have reported seeing orbs floating about. One was caught in a photograph."

“Ghosts aren't real," Oliver spat. “Tell him, Liam!"

“Henry, stop," Liam said. “Ghosts haven't been proven."

“Some say we lack the necessary tools to prove their existence definitively. That doesn't mean they don't exist. Germs existed before we developed microscopes to see them, after all."

This led to a debate of the existence of ghosts and supernatural entities and other things, although Oliver mostly huddled in his sleeping bag as Liam and Henry spat back and forth. As a small concession, Liam admitted that he did wonder if ghosts indeed exist, and that he's open to that possibility. Oliver, of course, protested and insisted that Liam was conspiring with Henry to spook the shit out of him.

“I'm saying I don't know either way, Oliver," Liam clarified.

“Oh, they do exist, believe me." Henry yawned. “Wake me if anything awesome happens. I am seriously beat."

“I hope you choke in your sleep," Oliver spat.

“Love you too, Olive Juice! Same to you, Liam."

“I concur with Oliver."

Henry simply laughed them off, the room drifting into silence. Liam lay there watching the dimness of the room, rolling his eyes when, after only a few minutes, light snoring punctuated the darkness. “That man sleeps like a log, I swear," Liam said to himself.

“He does," Oliver added, his voice muffled by the sleeping bag where he buried his head. “He's so active his body needs its recovery time. He's out cold."

“You're still awake?"

Oliver peeped his head out. “I don't think I'll be able to sleep now thanks to Henry!"

“Don't listen to him," Liam said. “He knows what sets you off. He does these things 'cause he knows he'll get a rise out of you."

“I know… I seriously wonder why I'm friends with him. Jack's nice to me. And you are, too. I love our deep conversations when Henry's not around."

Liam opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out momentarily. He let out a breath.

“Henry's a good guy, Oliver. He teases out of love, not malice."

“It makes me feel like shit sometimes."

“It's the way his brother used to tease him. They were close, you know. Now he only has us."

Oliver went quiet this time. Then paraphrasing Henry from earlier, “'Love makes people do crazy things they otherwise wouldn't have done. Think he wasn't just talking about the two murdered here?"

“Of course not," Liam said. “Henry lost more than his older brother after he got hitched. He also lost his best friend. Henry's sister-in-law hates his sense of humor and his personality in general. Guess his brother's love for the new wife superseded that for him. The rare instance where water is thicker than blood, I suppose."

Oliver winced at the word 'blood,' which Liam seemed to notice despite the bunk separating them, offering an apology.

“No, maybe Henry has a point," Oliver said. “I should lighten up."

Another minute of silence. Then Oliver spoke again: “But there is one thing I disagree with him on."

“What's that?" Another half-minute of silence. “Oliver?"

“I'm not into fucking people just for the sake of getting off," Oliver finally said. “I know I'm shy, but casual sex also doesn't appeal to me. I want…"

“Romance."

“Jack and I used to talk about this. He feels the same way. I don't think he's a virgin, but I don't think he sleeps around a lot. Although I guess part of that is because he's shy about… you know… how he's…"

“Gay."

“Yeah."

“How did it feel once he told you?" Liam wondered.

Oliver shifted, the bunk protesting with a few creaks. “Honestly, a little weird." Liam grunted, which made Oliver quickly assure him it wasn't in a homophobic way. “Remember when I said I think he has a crush on one of us?"

“Yeah… I'm curious whom it is myself."

“I worry sometimes it might be me with the way he opens up and talks to me. I wonder if he's just too afraid to come out with it and ask me out. Although… I did tell him I'm straight."

“I'd imagine that would be quite the deterrence."

“Yeah… said he was interested in 'the one,' same as I am." A little more silence. “What about you?"

“What do you mean?"

“Wanna get married someday?"

“I… do," Liam admitted. “I'm not like Henry either. I'm not interested in the dating game… especially because of the idea of revealing my… you know… to anyone… and my weight. God, it's embarrassing…" Liam breathed out. “I just want to find the one and be done with it. Have my happily ever after without any of the work of dealing with rejection and break ups and drama. Guess that isn't very realistic, though."

“You sound like Jack, to be honest."

“Like Jack? How? He's ripped despite the fact he eats like I do. I really don't know how he affords to gorge on a student budget. For me, all the scholarships and tuition waivers I get help."

“I think he got a good scholarship offered to forestry majors."

“He's always been the nature-lover."

“I think he'd love it out here in a place like this where it's quiet," Oliver added. “Matches his personality."

“Hey, kind of a weird question," Liam started. He paused momentarily until Oliver goaded him on with a hmm? sound. “What does he wear while you two chill at your guys' place?"

“What does he wear?" Oliver wondered. “Uh… clothes?"

“Well, he's always kinda plain, I mean," Liam clarified. “No jewelry or nothing. Not even a tattoo! Does he ever wear like any rings or bracelets or… perhaps a necklace?"

Oliver thought for a second. “Now that you think about it, he is pretty unadorned! Guess he has that less-is-more mentality. If anything, he's usually walking around with his shirt off. He's so hairy!"

Liam nodded, keeping a sigh quietly to himself. Henry battered the room with a rough snore, and the sigh hightailed it back inside with a quick breath.

“God, even in his sleep Henry's awful," Oliver said. Liam's ears perked up when he heard that zipper again. Oliver's form stepped down the bunk ladder.

“What are you doing?"

“Payback," Oliver said. “You can join me. He did that whole nakedness thing to you at the lake, remember?"

Liam crawled out of his bunk. “But I think that was a good thing overall… although I would have preferred a more, I guess, gentle approach."

Oliver snatched up the lantern from the counter and padded over to Henry.

“What are you gonna do to him?" Liam asked.

“Not sure," Oliver said quickly followed by a muffled “Holy shit!"

Liam glanced over to see what Oliver had gone all wide-eyed for only to find himself tempted to press his palms against his bare eyes lest they fall out of their sockets. “Dude is humongous!"

A soft snore drifted from Henry's open mouth as he lay on his back, one hand behind his head while the other hand rested on his bare chest. And right there… in his shorts…

“You'd think we were camping instead," Oliver said.

“Yeah, considering the huge tent he just pitched."

Henry's erection strained against the material of his shorts, lifting the waistline up to reveal some curly pubes and a couple inches of his thick shaft.

“No wonder he's so cocky," Liam added.

“Was that a dick pun?"

“You gotta be as thick as Henry here not to realize that."

“Well, as you saw earlier," Oliver said, cracking a smile, “I'm thicker. Although jeez, not by much from the looks of it. Here."

Oliver handed the lantern over.

“What are you doing?"

“Like I said. Payback."

In one steady, solid motion, Oliver slipped down Henry's shorts by the bottom hems, pulling down Henry's dick along with them. Inch after inch of dick slid into view until the whole thing sprung free, smacking Henry's midsection before rebounding to its fulcrum—nine inches of hard Henry boner jutting towards the ceiling.

“Not done yet," Oliver added, still pulling those pants down Henry's meaty legs until a pair of large balls flopped out. “There."

“Oliver, I can't believe you're doing this."

Oliver looked over with a grin. “Honestly, me too. But seeing you step out of your comfort zone at the pool earlier and get naked… it made me realize I can step out of my comfort zone and be at least a little mean."

“What are you gonna do now?"

“Baby steps, I'm afraid," Oliver said, giggling sheepishly. “Gonna take a picture and send it to Jack… show him what he's missing."

“I'm sure Henry would actually like that. He seemed pretty disappointed Jack didn't bother to check him out before."

“True!" Oliver said, fishing out his smartphone and pulling up the camera feature. He snapped the photo and fiddled with his phone, smirking all the while. “Guess we'll find out!"

“I really don't understand what you're hoping to achieve by this."

“It'll be embarrassing!"

“Knowing this doofus…" Liam jabbed a thumb towards Henry's gaping mouth, a line of drool seeping down the side. “He'd probably just laugh and say, 'Had to get a good look, eh?'"

“Oh, I know!" Oliver said, hopping up once in excitement. “Did you happen to bring a hot dog bun or something? Imagine him seeing that—"

Henry snorted, his hand scratching at his crotch, making his dick sway back and forth.

“Jeez, Oliver," Liam whispered, setting down the lantern with a grin. “Let's not have Henry wake up to this. Besides, I'm fresh out of buns. Although…" Liam cracked a grin, drawing a curious expression from Oliver. “Have you contemplated the pair strapped to your back? Considering your grab-ass session at the lake earlier, I'm sure he wouldn't mind!" Oliver snorted at this quip as Liam slipped Henry's shorts back up, the waist band pressing Henry's dick against his abdomen. A few inches still peeked over his shorts, and Liam looked confused as to what to do next. “I thought nocturnal tumescence occurred closer to morning…"

“Henry's a special case. Boners all night long. Probably why he got so big once puberty struck." Oliver tapped at his smartphone impatiently. “Damn. No signal. Ah, well. I'll just show Jack tomorrow, I guess." Then Oliver smirked. Sarcastically: “Maybe your dinky flip phone will work?"

Liam shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Hate phones. I remember for one English class writing quite the lengthy argument about the proliferation of hedonism in society thanks to—"

Two spheres at one of the side windows blinked and Oliver's body jolted, sending his smartphone clattering to the floor. Liam swung the lantern towards the window. The two orbs were gone.

“Did you… did you see that?" Oliver squeaked.

“What was that?"

“The ghost orb things?" Oliver said, his breathing starting to come in fast and thick as panic set in.

“Eyes, I think."

“Eyes?" Oliver gulped, his chest heaving. “A bear, maybe?"

“Don't worry, it can't get in. The door's closed."

“But it doesn't lock! Henry busted it when he kicked it open earlier!"

Henry groaned. “What's… going on?"

“It's a fuckin' black bear outside," Oliver hissed, “that's what's going on!"

Henry shot up. “What?"

“Quiet, quiet!" Liam said, stepping towards the window for a peek.

“Don't, Liam!" Oliver hissed. “Please!"

Henry slipped to the floor with a cat-like grace, barely making a sound as he landed. His pants slipped down his thighs, revealing his taut buttocks, which the others ignored. Grunting, he yanked his pants up and crept to join Liam at the window, peering outside. Only the silhouettes of dark trees outlined by the light of a full moon directly overhead.

“Wait, wait, wait…" Liam whispered, gesturing to his ear. “Do you hear that?"

Soft padding sounds filtered into the cabin.

“Yeah, something's walking around out there."

“God, I need to get out of here!" Oliver shouted, scrambling to put his shoes on and pack up his things. “I'm not getting mauled by a black bear! I can't stay in here!"

Henry grabbed Oliver by the shoulders, Oliver looking back at him. Terror had twisted his eyes wide, and goose bumps erected their warning flags all over his skin. “Oliver, you need to cool your tots!"

“I can't. I won't." Oliver dug out his phone, dialed the police. No signal. He swore. “Why the hell did you take us here?"

A howl ululated through the sky again in the distance, followed closely by another as the first time. All three men turned their heads, held their breaths, and listened. Their bladders threatened to evacuate when a third howl joined—deep, guttural, bestial—and originating no more than a few yards away from their cabin.

* * *

Oliver let out a yell, terrified, the light from the lantern flickering back and forth in his outstretched hand, causing shadow creatures to dance wildly amongst the trees. Henry followed close by while Liam trailed behind him by several yards, both still slipping on their backpacks. After the howl that sounded like no wolf they had ever heard, Oliver fell into a panic, his body shaking, his voice trembling as he demanded to leave. Proclaimed how they were all gonna die that night in that cabin the way that couple did. Henry, his wide eyes betraying both guilt and worry, did his best to placate his friend, saying to just give them a moment to pack up and they would go. They would leave right away. How he was sorry he had dragged them both into this. But as Henry and Liam stuffed their bags and grabbed their stuff, the howl came again, although further away. Oliver fired off a volley of curse words before booking it out the door and down the path. From Liam and Henry's point of view, it seemed like the trees had swallowed Oliver whole, and he tumbled further down the long, twisting esophagus of the trail into some dark pit where no stars were visible overhead… where the featureless face of the moon watched like an unblinking eye, Oliver screaming and shouting and tumbling into madness.

“Wait, Oliver!" Henry called.

Liam huffed, focusing on his breathing, on the trail ahead of him. But as he ran, the distance between him and Henry grew and grew. From Liam's point of view, the lantern was a firefly in the distance, Oliver's faraway shouting making Liam's skin crawl. Around him, the birches and aspens towered over him like dark claws that had penetrated the earth. Soon he lost sight of Henry, who kept shouting after Oliver. A pain in Liam's side slowed him to a trot despite the adrenaline surging through him. Eventually, he found himself alone in the darkness, his hands wandering in front of him to feel for the trees, each step an unsure one. Liam stood to catch his breath.

“Fuck…" he breathed. “What do I do?"

Shucking off his backpack, he dug out the small reading light. The weak light only offered enough guidance to see a yard or so in front of him. He found the path and glanced toward the direction Henry and Oliver ran. No sight of Oliver's lantern, and the sounds of their shouting grew more and more distant until he could barely hear their voices.

“Fuck…"

Liam looked back towards the cabin he could no longer see. The death cabin. Offering one last look towards the direction of Henry and Oliver, he bit his lip and began the lone trek back to their starting point, careful not to hold his breath despite whatever was out here with them.

As he walked, using the small light as a guide, the cool air soaked through him, although his body's adipose stores thwarted off the need to shiver for warmth. He kept his eyes on the path. Took each step one at a time. One at a time.

“Trace your steps, Liam," he said. “You'll be safer at the cabin."

He walked. Slowly and carefully until he could see the outline of the building limned by moonlight. He silently thanked whatever god existed out there. But he stopped as soon as he took his first confident step towards safety.

Behind him.

Liam froze. He heard it. A step or two. Something creeping along. Liam spun, shining the light on the monster that had been following him.

Nothing. Just the empty path where Oliver and Henry faintly called back to him.

“Shit…" Liam said under his breath. “Knowing how horror movies work, that means once I turn back around…"

A twig snapped. And he turned. His hand shook. The light lifted slowly from the path. And there it stood only several yards away—something tall and dark. Two eyes glowed a hot amber. Above them, two triangular points swiveled to the sounds of Liam's backing footsteps. Ears. The figure hunched over, thick arms nearly grazing the earth where long claws curved from its fingers. It breathed in deeply, then exhaled—its muscular form, blanketed in dark fur, expanded before sending a visible huff into the air. Both glowing orbs seemed to flicker—eyeblinks. Liam gulped and glanced back down again. Between the creature's legs he saw the outline of a bushy tail swaying gently. This thing… this creature in the darkness… the bestial howls from earlier… this thing was a—

“Werewolf."

Something overtook Liam's legs as he shot back down the path. He shouted after Henry, after Oliver, although no response came. The pain pierced his side again, but he pushed through the pain. Behind him, he could hear the creature giving chase. Twigs and branches snapping from its weight, from its size as it tore through the path after Liam.

The world spun for a couple turns, and Liam felt the wind almost knock out of him… but he shot himself back up to his feet, ignoring the pain in his arm and shoulder from slamming into a tree. The backpack jostled on his back, the straps becoming loose, and he shucked it off himself and continued tearing down the path as best as the reading light would allow him to. Somehow, he managed to shout their names, but neither Henry nor Oliver returned the call. A break in the canopy allowed moonlight to filter onto the path. Liam's feet carried him faster, quicker thanks to the extra light, and he successfully vaulted over an upturned root that threatened to snatch him.

But then Liam found himself slowing down despite the windfall of moonlight guiding his run down the path. The ache in his side had evolved into something piercing and radiating. He cursed beneath his breath as his legs lost speed. But no sounds indicated anything was following him, and he risked a glance over his shoulder as his gait slowed to a trot.

Nothing behind him.

Liam clutched his side and wedged himself between a pair of trees, getting off the path and ducking low. He tried to steady his breathing, and a hand clutched at the pain in his side as if covering a puncture wound. His other hand fiddled with the reading light until it shut off. Down the path, nothing came except for a small breeze that shimmied loose a leaf, sending it twirling down the path before it landed on the ground.

A twig snapped again. Rustling in the trees.

Liam sunk deeper, making himself as small as possible. He cupped a hand over his mouth to blunt the sounds of his breathing. Every muscle tensed as he listened. There was movement, but the sounds of it seemed to come from all around him. He held his breath. Listened more. Tried to pinpoint the sound.

Looking right down the path towards the cabin, the creature was nowhere to be found. Glancing left, the trail twisted into the darkness of the trees towards Oliver and Henry. Just as he looked, he let out his breath. In the distance, there it was… his name. His name again. Henry and Oliver.

Instinctively, Liam stood… his mouth opened to shout their names. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A breath buffeted him there. A low growl.

Liam barely had time to turn his head.

* * *

Oliver swore underneath his breath, the lantern flickering in his hands. Moments ago, he had tripped and accidentally smashed the lantern against a tree. There he stood, giving the cracked lantern a few encouraging taps, attempting to steady the light. He looked around him and nearly jumped when he saw a figure approaching on the trail. Henry.

“Where's Liam?" Oliver said. “Is he still following you?"

“He's behind me," Henry said, leaning forward to catch his breath. He glanced back. “Liam?"

The lantern flickered as Oliver aimed it down the trail. No Liam. Oliver and Henry shouted his name, one after the other, a few times, giving intermittent pauses to listen for a response.

A distant scream. Then a one-word cry that repeated over and over again.

Help!

The light flickered and fought, as if frightened itself, before succumbing to the darkness.

“Shit," Oliver spat, giving the lantern more encouraging taps to somehow coax the light to help them.

“That was Liam," Henry said. “He needs us."

“What can we do?" Oliver shook the useless lamp in his hands. “We can't even see!"

Henry dug out his smartphone from his backpack, his eyes first checking for any sort of signal or network connectivity. Nothing. He toggled on flashlight mode and jerked towards the sound of another distant, horrified scream.

“We need to help him!" Henry said.

“I… I can't…"

“Sure you can… Liam needs us."

“Nonononononono…" Oliver shook his head. “Listen to him. He's gone. I don't want to be next, Henry. Please!"

Henry nodded. “Okay, then. I'll go after him."

“No, please don't leave me."

“You have your phone, don't you?"

“No signal. And it's almost dead." Hands shaking, he pulled out his phone and smashed in his password. The next screen showed the picture of Henry's junk taken right before all this madness ensued. Oliver shook his head, cleared the screen, and dialed the police. Nothing.

Henry nodded, digging out his car keys and handing them to Oliver. “I'll ask about that photo of my dick later. Use your phone light and find your way back to the cabin. Try to hurry before it dies. Get help." He then dug free his pocketknife, flipping out the blade. “I'll see if I can save Liam."

Another distant cry. Henry booked it down the trail for his friend, shouting for Oliver to hurry. Oliver looked on, his body trembling, until he could no longer see Henry's light. Then he turned around and ran as fast as his scrawny legs could carry him.

* * *

Liam scooted back across the forest floor. Dirt and dead leaves and twigs scraped against his shorts, jabbed at a palm and a closed fist as he pushed himself away. The massive thing stood before him, those amber eyes glaring down—a hunger there. The back of Liam's head smacked against a tree, a few stars sprinkling into view. After a quick rub, he fumbled with the reading light in his fist, its soft glow dancing across the beast before Liam steadied his hand. At first the light revealed sharp, jagged teeth in a gaping maw… then the light trailed down a thick neck, two muscular pecs where a small object glinted, the muscular torso… then to the large sheath from where the red tip of his canine cock began to protrude.

The werewolf took a step toward him. And another.

Liam gulped.

The werewolf's full sheath swayed from each step, a thick and heavy thing. Two large, furry balls swayed in tandem, plump and low-hanging. A soft growl began, a tongue lapping at his chops.

Liam scrambled to his feet and darted down the path towards the cabin but stumbled forward and fell with a cry, scraping his palms. The werewolf launched himself, landing on top of the prone man. Liam let out a gasp at the sudden weight of the werewolf above him, glancing at the forearms that surrounded his head, dangerous claws clutching the earth.

The werewolf's hips bucked and thrust.

Liam crawled forward, shaking, the werewolf's bucking shoving him into the forest floor. The werewolf snarled, paralyzing Liam into place. Another thrust. Liam felt something hard prod against his rear. The werewolf's cock. It slipped, a rod of flesh protruding from its sheath and spurting a clear liquid that dappled Liam's shorts and the back of his shirt. More frantic thrusting as the werewolf's eager dick prodded for a hole. The werewolf snarled again impatiently. Liam gulped as the werewolf lifted himself onto his knees. A claw hooked into Liam's pants before slashing it open with a single flick of the wrist. Liam's ass clenched as the cool air prickled his exposed skin and prompted a near-instantaneous horripilation, fine hairs standing on end.

Before Liam could suck in another breath, the werewolf began thrusting again, large forepaws clutching Liam's waist, claws prodding his skin, the spindly dick pressing and prodding his cheeks until it hit the spot between them, slipping in deep. Then deeper.

Liam sucked in a breath. Swore. Did his best to claw away from the beast thrusting at him but to no avail—those strong, muscular arms held him in place, and the beast's own claws threatened to puncture skin if the wolf had to hold him any tighter. Liam cursed again. The slick, wet thing prodded Liam's insides, sending waves of sensation through his body—not quite pain, not quite pleasure. Liam's own flaccid dick twitched as it swayed back and forth from the thrusting.

“You dumb thing!" Liam cried through gritted teeth. “Get off me!"

But the werewolf's thrusting became fast and frantic, forepaws pulling Liam in tight. Large, furry balls slapped against Liam's ass. Grunts and pants buffeted the back of his neck. The werewolf overwhelmed the human with his strength, muscles tensing, claws leaving little white marks on Liam's skin. The long, red rod thickened, pulsing with blood and need. Clear liquid squirted powerfully inside Liam's bowels, some leaking out the tight hole clutching that pulsating, expanding cock. The werewolf bucked his hips harder, faster, eyes falling shut as that tight ass rocked his body with pleasure. A glistening tongue lolled down the side of his maw, dripping saliva. The werewolf panted hard.

Liam whined and cried out intermittently, throwing a hand back—a hopeless resistance against the relentless beast. Spittle flung out as he cried, “God, no." The tightness in his rear—it was too much. The beast's cock grew thick and veiny, stretching Liam wide. Breaths blasted the forest floor, Liam's tired body finally conceding and going slack until he could almost taste dirt. The werewolf didn't stop, pounding Liam's raised ass without mercy. But then Liam shot up with a quick push up, arching his back as his ass began to fill. The base of the werewolf's cock ballooned, pulsing into a fat knot that tugged and pulled against Liam's tight hole, eliciting painful cries from the human and pleasurable growls from the beast.

But then the thrusting stopped, leaving only the werewolf's heavy pants as his cock fired jet after jet of cum, thicker now that the tie was complete, filling the human's belly. The werewolf's body dropped down, a muscular arm wrapping over Liam's front and pulling him in close. The werewolf grunted in pleasure, his dick continuing to spasm intermittently, each blast of cum drawing out another pant or growl or whine—sounds of his continuous orgasm. Liam grunted back, but the werewolf's snout nuzzled against his head. A long tongue slipped out several times between pants, painting the side of Liam's head with saliva. Kisses.

As the werewolf bombarded the human with licks and canine breath, Liam caught a glimpse of it: a greenstone glinting in the moonlight, hanging from the beast's neck. He reached a hand around to the werewolf's obliging head, pulling him in. Through the dank fur, Liam could see the object falling over his shoulder.

“J-Jack?"

An amber eye glanced back, seeming to blink in acknowledgment. Then a lick.

“Help me…" Liam said, lifting a leg and pushing his weight to one side. The werewolf grunted but seemed to understand what Liam wanted, thick, powerful paws helping the human spin around the huge canine dick inside him. Liam landed on his back hard, and both yelped, the werewolf dropping down, the human bearing the weight of that furry body momentarily before the werewolf's arms caught himself. Sharp claws dugs into the earth on either side of Liam again as easily as if it were flesh.

Liam winced, panting, his hand fluttering down to his ass where he felt the root of the werewolf's dick… then to his hole plugged by the girthy knot. Cum leaked out, wetness dapping his hand. Liam let out a breath as the pain subsided. And he focused onto the werewolf panting over him, the necklace hanging down. Liam released a clutched hand, revealing the reading light he still held. Flicking it on, he shined it over the beast attached to him. Liam's eyes traced over the twisted greenstone that glinted from the light, then up to the handsome face of the werewolf looking down at him—those two glowing, amber orbs. Liam sighed. Closed his own eyes as the light fell from his hand, sprinkling the path with its soft gleam. Liam found his hand working its way up the meaty, furry chest, up the neck scruff, and to the back of the werewolf's head, pulling him in until the two became joined in a heat of tongues and kisses, until their senses blurred together: touching and tasting and inhaling the thick smell of fur and sweat and sex. Liam's dick pulsed awake, fully hard, and he touched himself during their intimacy.

Behind the two of them, several yards away, Henry shined the light of his phone on their figures in the path. Before yanking the phone back down while stifling a yelp, he caught a glimpse of it: the back of a huge beast dipping his head into the man it lay upon, a bushy tail swaying back and forth. A hand tugged at the beast's fur. A muffled groan came from underneath that mass of muscle.

“Liam…" Henry glanced down at the pocketknife in his other hand, clutched it. Felt the handle tight within his fingers. He nodded. Looked back at the beast. Then lunged.

The wolf lapped at Liam's face, a long, wet tongue smothering him until Liam had to gasp for breath. Whiskers prickled his lips as Liam planted a few kisses of his own before smiling up at the werewolf. But his expression grew into curiosity when the werewolf's ears perked up and swiveled. The werewolf turned his head. Then snarled—a menacing, ferocious sound that could have rattled the leaves in the trees. Liam flinched, his heart leaping to his throat, and he instinctively covered his face. The werewolf chomped at the air.

All Liam could hear afterward was the sound of pounding feet and a man's scream both fading into the blackness of the forest. The werewolf dipped his head to the side and dropped what his mouth had snatched. A mahogany pocketknife, its blade clean and sharp, reflecting the light of the moon that hovered silently above them. The werewolf then lifted his head, still fully knotted to his human lover below him, and announced to the world to leave them undisturbed with a mighty, bestial howl.

* * *

Dawn finally arrived, the morning songbirds announcing the new day, although quieting themselves briefly just enough for Oliver and Henry to make way without cursing their noise. The cabin… their original one, the one where they should have stayed instead, Oliver insisted, appeared. All night they had huddled in a thicket, the darkness obfuscating the path to their original cabin. Henry had found Oliver hiding there, his phone having died, leaving him no other choice but to bunker down. As luck would have it, Henry's also died soon after their reunion, both becoming trapped in the outside world. All they could do was huddle up with a sleeping bag and wait, staying up the entire night to guard themselves against the smothering darkness they agreed against navigating. While Henry was away, Oliver had explained, he would hear sounds in the distance… a muffled cry, perhaps, that may have been Liam. And another dreadful howl. When asked if Henry had found him, all Henry could do was shake his head, saying how that howl had made him too chicken shit to continue. He had turned back and was lucky enough to find Oliver in the darkness.

“Think he's all right?" Oliver said, attempting to wipe away the stinging in his eyes.

“God, I hope so…" Henry said, his eyes starting to mist over. He kept his head low. “I feel like I'm responsible for this. I knew that cabin had a history of attacks, and that's where I decided to take the both of you. I swear, I didn't think an animal had been attacking the cabin. I could've sworn it was an isolated murder. That's that. I didn't realize I was putting anyone at risk."

Oliver opened his mouth to say something but quickly snapped it back shut as he found the trail again and began trudging along it towards the cabin. Henry followed, walking slowly, his eyes watching the trail and the back of Oliver's shoes. When they reached the cabin and saw the back of their bright-red SUV just around the corner, Henry announced that they should drive to the nearest ranger station and get help, checking his phone again to see if it had miraculously sprung back to life. When he looked back up, he froze. Another car was parked alongside his. Jack's.

“Henry!" Oliver called.

Hustling back around the cabin, Henry stopped. Two figures approached from the trail: one a hairy, musclebound man towering over the stocky one beside him. Henry's face went white. Then he had to wipe at his own eyes when he saw their arms swaying together in tandem, hands joined together.

“Is that Jack and Liam?" Henry asked.

“Guys, guys!" Liam said, waving with his free hand. “I got someone here who'd like to join in on our pact. Finally!" Liam turned to Jack who smiled beside him, saying just to him, “And I have a few little updates about myself as well…."

Oliver tore down the path, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. “You're okay!"

Liam smiled as Oliver approached, but noticed how Henry stood back in disbelief. Earlier that morning, Liam was much the same way as Henry. Light filtered through the grimy windows, enough to flutter Liam's eyes open. He found himself back in the cabin. The body curled around him radiated such warmth, and he could feel the gentle movement of breaths. Instinctively, Liam found his hand coursing through the hair of the man's abdomen, then up through his chest where more grew thickly between a pair of meaty pecs. Liam's hand discovered something hard and smooth—the Maori twist necklace. Two amber spheres ignited in the darkness—a pair of eyes, Liam realized, of the man lying next to him.

“I thought you hated my gift, Jack," Liam said. “You never wear it."

A wolf-like yawn greeted the morning, quickly followed by a big stretch. Liam smiled as Jack's body embraced the new day, and he found his hand drifting back down the collection of hairy abs to Jack's malehood—and Liam stopped as he felt a large, furry sheath. Then he grinned, squeezing, testing its girth before pulling the sheath down to uncover the red, glistening cock it protected. His hand then drifted to the two huge nuts that pooled heavily between Jack's legs, cupping them, tugging them playfully, enjoying their fullness and warmth. The feel of the light fur covering them.

Finishing his yawn, Jack smiled back and gently brushed some of Liam's hair aside. He then leaned in for a kiss that provoked a moan from both men. The kiss segued into a deeper one that involved some tongue and Jack's hand as he embraced the back of Liam's head. When the kiss ended, Jack followed that up with another quick peck to Liam's lips.

“I loved the gift, Liam," he finally responded, his voice quiet but warm. “A gift like this shouldn't be cheapened by wearing it every day like we do our usual clothes. I keep it hanging on a mirror in my room as a daily reminder of what it means."

“Its shape, you mean. The twist."

“Oh, of course!" Jack said, smiling. “I know you, Liam. This wasn't a necklace you gave me just because it's green or because it looks nice… which it certainly does. Love the shape and the color of the pounamu! But I think you underestimate the power of Google. The twist—the pikorua—represents the bond between two people: you and me. While the bond could signify that between two friends, it could also mean… more. You were trying to tell me something."

“I'm surprised you figured it out," Liam said with a grin, his hand returning to Jack's sheath. “I should have recognized your shrewdness. Perhaps something more enigmatic than a Maori necklace was in order here."

Jack chuckled, a deep and warm sound that brought a smile to Liam's face. But his expression went wide when Jack moved himself to straddle him, a hardening canine cock swinging over Liam's belly where Jack's huge nuts hung over the side. Jack grinned down wolfishly from this position, and Liam couldn't help but look up at that handsome face, into those eyes that almost seemed to glow.

“You overestimate me," Jack said, cracking a smile that revealed a prominent canine. “Your lust for me. That desire. It hung thickly over you like a cologne. I could smell it. Such a vital clue."

“Cheater." Liam reached down to stroke off Jack's cock, slowly, teasingly, the red, veiny shaft pulsing to life. Thickening. Growing longer.

“Not cheating," he said, grinding his hips in response to Liam's touch. “Just a natural advantage considering my nature."

“Considering you're a freakin' beast." Liam's hand found its way to the tip, viscous pre-fluid slathering his palm with the lubrication needed to make everything slick and pleasurable.

“A werewolf, yes." Jack leaned in, pressing his weight over Liam as he kissed. “Your werewolf."

“I'll have to get you to explain the science behind that for me later. And the fact you retain some animal characteristics even now."

“Genetics," Jack stated, “in a nutshell. God, I hated gym showers."

With that, their words made way for more eager kissing, the playful grinding of Jack's hips until his dick grew fully hard, ten thick inches, the sound of their bodies moving and touching each other. Jack's mouth found its way to Liam's neck, nibbling him there until all Liam could do was moan, move his hands over all the lean muscle of Jack's body, his broad back as it tapered down to his waist. Liam's own rock-hard cock prodded at Jack who slipped back down to lay by his side, their bottom bunk groaning from this movement.

Their hands eventually found their way to each other's throbbing erections, stroking, coaxing out more drooling pre-cum. But Liam sucked in a breath and tensed as Jack fondled him, and he started going soft. Liam closed his eyes, biting his lower lip.

“I can hear your heart pounding," Jack said, bringing his hand to Liam's chest, prompting Liam to risk opening his eyes. “And there's that scent again."

“Scent?"

“Fear. Worry. Anxiety. The same scent all three of you released when I gave chase." Jack's eyes wandered through the faint light for Liam's eyes. Jack leaned in and found Liam's lips, offering a soft, reassuring kiss. “You're concerned about your size."

A sigh. “I'm big and small in all the wrong places. Everything's reversed. I'm not what any gay guy wants. What anyone wants."

“And yet here I am kissing you—a wolf wanting to breed you all the same," Jack offered. “The man I see, the man I was too afraid to love…" Jack swallowed. “He's a brilliant, thoughtful man. Sure, Henry has the muscles and a huge dick, and Oliver has his kindness that drew me in as his bestie. But you had the insight and wisdom to keep the four of us together all these years, and I had to learn to admire you from afar because of—"

“Because of who you are. The parts of you you're afraid to show—to let others see. The truth."

Jack nodded and paused for such a long while that Liam shifted. Jack let out a breath. “I feared this truth for so long, Liam. I brought us all here to bond—away from technology and responsibility. Away from distractions. On the last day, I had planned on revealing this side of me to all three of you. Not transform… but just admit that I did, which was why I couldn't be here yesterday, the last night of the full moon." Jack shook his head. “I knew Henry would laugh, thinking my admittance as nothing more than a joke. And Oliver would worry over me—my mental health. He knows my stress from school, and some of the loneliness I feel each day that I've mentioned to him. But you… I figured you would have been curious. At least, I hoped. But last night as I watched you guys outside this… murder cabin Henry dragged the both of you to… I got more than what I bargained for. Oliver's little freak out threw a wrench in my plans."

“You revealed yourself too soon."

“Yes… and instinct took over when I saw you running. When I gave chase and toppled you down and grabbed you and…"

“I'm still hurting back there, you know." Liam gave his booty a light smack, eliciting an exaggerated hiss in pain. “But I'm glad it happened. Not just for the crazy werewolf sex, but also getting to see you as you really are."

Jack felt his face flush. “Accepting me… accepting my truth," Jack said. “Like Oliver mentioned, it is a kindness that'll now allow me to share in my happiness with you…"

“You're talking about the Gibran quote!" Liam's face lit up. “You were there when we were swimming. You heard everything!"

“And saw everything, too," Jack said with a grin and a couple taps to his temple. “Werewolf, remember?" He then dropped his hand down to give Liam's belly a rub. A finger drifted its way to a bellybutton where it traced a couple spirals. Jack then leaned in and whispered, “And I certainly liked what I saw."

Liam swallowed.

“I think chubby is cute, Liam," Jack said, adding a kiss. His hand returned to Liam's cock, discovering it had hardened again. A little pre-fluid beaded at the tip. “Especially this chubby."

Both men chuckled in the darkness, their hands roaming and touching and stroking each other off again. Jack was still long and hard as ever, his heavy breathing betraying his longing. They found themselves beating each other off, slowly at first, but soon quickly and passionately. Their lips interlocked, nibbled, sucked, sending each other into a furor of want and need and lust. A tongue sometimes lapped to taste the other, to tease a nipple or lap at chest hair. Occasionally their lips parted to roam the contours of a neck, the top of a chest, or to allow each man to catch their breath between moans. Liam's hand stroked all ten inches of Jack's erection in long, powerful strokes, huge balls jostling from the movement, until Jack finally whispered that he was about to cum.

“Me too…" Liam whispered back, feeling Jack guide his hand to the base of his canine dick where it began to swell into the same beastly knot from last night.

“Hold it behind there," Jack whispered. “It feels great." With each of Jack's heart beats, the knot at the base of his dick became more and more swollen, Liam clutching just behind it, feeling the knot strain against his closed fist. Jack's muscles tensed and he let out a soft whimper. “Pull gently…" Hot, heavy breaths buffeted Liam. A growl escaped his lips during a passionate kiss. Liam tugged against the knot. Tugged again. Then Jack's body spasmed. Thick streaks of cum plastered the hairs of his abs and chest, jet after jet. Jack tossed his head back, letting out something like a howl—an announcement to the surrounding forest and its various inhabitants of his ecstasy.

“Fuck…" Jack groaned as his dick pulsed and twitched, sending another thick shot of cum over his face, which Liam quickly lapped up as he continued to hold that pulsing dick steady. Jack did his best to focus on beating off Liam as another thick, pleasurable shot landed on Jack's heaving chest, and another over his abs. Several weaker shots drooled down the red shaft, the bulbous knot, and made a mess of Liam's hand, tempting Liam to lap that up too when his own dick began to spurt creamy, white spunk over his belly and Jack's thick hand. Liam let out a gasp at the intense feeling, his body spasming as two more impressive shots hit his chest. Liam's hand shot down to stop Jack's stroking, the feeling too much now. He exhaled deeply. Then went in for another kiss… slow this time, each man savoring the taste of the other's saliva. When their kiss broke, each looked at the other. Jack brought his hand to his mouth, his tongue lapping up the mess Liam had made, prompting Liam to follow suit and clean up Jack's seed from his own hand. Then they kissed once more, the taste of each other's seed, each other's desire, intermingling between them.

“God, that was great," Liam said, looking down at Jack's erection—still rock hard, knot and all—as it lay across those abs. “I just want to lie here with you all day. I don't want this to end."

“Me too."

For a moment, both men lay there, touching each other softly. Liam's dick had long gone limp, and a few minutes passed before Jack's erection had softened, his member, still thick and heavy, lying limply over his belly before eventually slipping back into its furry sheath. The cum all over his chest and midsection had seeped into his hair and gave off such a strong, sexual smell.

Jack sat up. The afterglow cut short.

Padding across the room, Jack announced how they better find Henry and Oliver. Liam propped himself on an arm and watched Jack swing the door wide open, inviting in the early morning light, before disappearing outside. Liam sat up curiously, some loose hair slipping over his shoulders. Jack soon returned with Liam's backpack that had been abandoned outside last night. Setting it on the counter, he fished out a towel and cleaned off the mess on his body as best he could. Liam padded over to join him as Jack cleaned himself, wrapping his arms around him and planting a kiss to a muscular shoulder.

As Jack set the towel down, his finger traced over a fresh engraving in the countertop. “Oliver and Jack, huh? Henry seriously failed his perception check on that one."

“I wonder if he's doing okay," Liam said. “You gave him quite the scare. Never heard him scream like that."

“Dude deserves it," Jack replied. “He can be such a dick—speaking of which, he keeps bugging me to see mine. Wants to know how big I get hard. What's up with that?"

“Can't wait to see what he says when I return his pocketknife: 'Hey, I think you forgot something!'"

Jack rolled his eyes with a smile, then out came some oversized clothes from the backpack. He explained how he had left everything in the car since transforming destroys his clothes, not realizing he wouldn't be returning for them before dawn. A double-XL shirt draped over Jack's fit body, and Jack had to tie the drawstring in tight after slipping on some shorts.

“You look silly in my clothes." Liam fished out a hair tie from his pack and tied his hair back into a ponytail.

“And I'll feel even sillier once I join your little pact and tell them the truth."

“Everything?" Both wrapped an arm around each other before peering out the door at the path before them—the path back to the cabin and to their friends. To truth. “Including you and me?"

Jack planted a kiss to the top of Liam's head. The necklace swayed from this action, and Jack, taking notice, took the twisted pounamu and brought it to his lips, offering the greenstone a kiss as well. Liam watched and smiled and rested his head against the same chest the necklace reoccupied.

“Everything."