I was so turned on. I was holding my breath. My heart was hammering in my chest. Everything felt so wrong, so surreal, and yet I wanted it more than I’d wanted anything in years.
And then I woke up with a start, gasping a little for air, hot underneath the sheets. It was a minute or two before I was fully awake, piecing together reality around me. I tossed my sheets away, breathing deep and letting my body cool off in the RV. My cock was hard, either some holdover from the weird fucking dream, or maybe just part of the natural cycle.
Dicks got hard in the middle of the night. It was unavoidable. Maybe it had nothing to do with the dream.
God, the dream. I let myself explore those thoughts for the first time since waking.
What in the absolute fuck had that dream been?
I remembered the sentiment I’d had just before I woke up. Like we were supposed to be together, so close we could feel each other’s heartbeats.
I wasn’t “supposed” to kiss Sam, or want Sam, or dream and think about it at all. He was my stepbrother, even if we’d never really felt like brothers at all. And beyond that, we didn’t even get along.
The light coming through the edges of the window shades indicated that the sun was up. I checked my phone on the nightstand and saw that it was already almost eight. I dragged myself out of bed, hobbled over to the shower, and let the hot water pound over me. The ability to have continuous hot water was was one of the things I’d liked most about this RV when I purchased it, and I was so thankful for it now.
By the time I got out and toweled off, my cock had gone down. I threw on my workout clothes and peeked around the corner to see Sam still snoozing happily in the daybed.
Thank fuck. I didn’t let my eyes linger on him for long.
When I walked outside, Dad and Jim were up, sharing coffee and chatting as they relaxed on their camping chairs.
“Going for a run,” I said, waving to them as I took off down the path.
“Breakfast in an hour,” Dad called after me.
I ran hard. Harder than I had in a long time. It was so refreshing to run in nature instead of on a treadmill or in a crowded city park. The path through the forest eventually opened up and meandered alongside the river that Cathy had mentioned. I passed by a few other campers on the way, but mostly had the riverside view to myself, the morning sun coming down through the pine trees.
I tried to push all thoughts of Sam out of my head as I ran. I focused on the crunch of the gravel under my footsteps. The sound of the water in the river. The early morning birdsong.
But it was no use.
Why had I wanted him so badly in the dream? I’d never felt that way toward him in real life. Sure, in the last couple of days, I’d realized Sam was a cool person, and someone I probably should have tried to get to know better back in the day. After our conversations and our foolish kiss in the pool, I’d definitely been idly wondering about my sexuality.
But just because I was finally acknowledging that I might not be 100% straight didn’t mean I had to focus those thoughts onto Sam.
Maybe that’s all it was. I’d known this trip was going to be about exploring myself, and already, being free from my normal life was making me feel free. It meant I was pondering the fact that I’d enjoyed blow jobs from men in the past.
Sam was the only gay guy around me right now. And maybe that’s why my dream-mind had landed on him instead of anyone else.
It certainly was the best explanation I could come up with that didn’t make me feel guilty as all hell.
By the time I looped back down the path near the end of my run, I was hot with sweat and knew I’d need to rinse off again in the shower. I took my shirt off, draping it over my shoulder as I jogged back to our camp. It smelled incredible as I arrived, like fresh coffee and breakfast foods.
“There he is!” Cathy said. “Bacon, sausage, or both? Eggs scrambled or fried?”
“Both, and fried,” I said. “This is amazing. Thank you.”
“Well, you’re on cleanup duty,” Dad said. “And Sam wake-up duty, apparently.”
“He’s still not up?” I asked.
“Hasn’t made a peep,” Cathy said.
“He always has been a good sleeper,” Dad said.
“Well,” Cathy added, lowering her voice a little even though Sam wasn’t nearby. “I think it’s gotten worse, lately. I called him at noon a few weeks ago and he was just waking up.”