I’d laughed at him the day before when he made toothbrushes for both of us by wrapping gauze from the first-aid kit around small sticks. He then scooped charcoal from the fire and demonstrated how effective it was for our teeth and breath.
“Are we planning to kiss?” I’d teased. He glanced toward the camera and blushed, clamming up as I continued to tease him. “It could be good for ratings,” I’d said, persisting on the topic for the shock value to the fans.
“Don’t tease like that,” he’d resisted. “Your football buddies will think you’re serious.”
“What if I am?” Erik pursed his lips and held his hand over the camera lens for a second or two, shaking his head at me. “What?” I’d questioned. “Don’t be so serious.”
He turned the camera off and glared at me. “I don’t want to be the butt of your jokes, Drew,” he’d said. “And what if the viewers actually think you’re willing to kiss a guy?”
“Hey, I’m sorry, but I don’t care if they are offended,” I’d stated. “I’m not hung up on shit like that, and if you were willing to kiss me, I’d have no problem doing it.” His homemade toothbrush was hanging out of his mouth the entire time we debated and I don’t think he realized it. “Your teeth are black,” I’d quipped. “I wouldn’t kiss that mug even if you tried to make me.”
Erik stuck his finger in his mouth and pulled it out, staring at the grayish goop. He looked at me and grinned, his mouth seeming even more ghoulish. We laughed hysterically as I pointed at him and made nasty faces. He attempted to smear the goop on my arm, and I fell backward. He fell on top of me as we struggled. I instinctively positioned my hand to his lower back, holding him firmly against me. He felt smooth and wonderful as I caressed his back, his chest pressing against mine as we wrestled for control.
My cock stirred. I wanted to take him right there and then, but he suddenly recognized that he was in a vulnerable position. Erik appeared unsure, swiftly rolling to his side. The moment had passed as quickly as it had arrived.
* * *
The return of the helicopter buzzing over our camp woke Erik. His eyes popped open, and he caught me staring at him, surprised at how close our faces were. He startled and scooted backward, moving his hands to his crotch.
“Number two bites the dust,” I whispered.
“Eight more to go including us,” he said, smiling and wiping the corners of his eyes. He’d had dirt on his fingers and smeared some of it near his left eye. I licked my finger and moved to wipe it off. His hand immediately went up and grabbed me by the wrist.
I rolled to face him, propping my head in my hand as my elbow supported my weight. “Relax, Erik. I’d never hurt you,” I said. He let go, lay back, and studied my face as I gently wiped the smudge from his face. “All better,” I whispered.
Hovering over him, we gazed into each other’s eyes. His arm was stretched to his side between us, inches from my growing dick. I prayed that he would reach out and touch me, going so far as to glance toward his hand. His eyes never left mine and I knew he was thinking the exact same thing.
He was small and vulnerable as he lay naked beside me. His hip bones jutted out naturally, while his flat abs looked like a washboard. His chest was defined with small pecs, not a hair in sight. A vision that took my breath away. I so wanted to touch him, to lean forward and kiss him. It was as if he was daring me to, but I still felt like he didn’t see me that way.
“I’m hungry,” he whispered, snapping me out of my daydreaming. “Wanna fish today?”
I rolled onto my back and heaved a huge sigh. “Sure,” I responded. He didn’t see me that way, and it hurt more than I thought it would.
CHAPTER SEVEN: ERIK
Day Eleven
“The health team’s boat just pulled on shore, Drew,” I said, shoving his shoulder to wake him. “They’re going to see how much weight we’ve lost.” I pinched at my cheeks to get my blood flowing. It was mid-September and the fall nights on the island were cold. Leaves from deciduous trees were turning yellow and other bright shades of orange and red, many of them falling to the ground as the winds picked up. I suffered through the frigid nights by positioning my back against Drew’s, both of us facing away. He’d offered to wrap his arms around me, but the intimacy was intimidating.
Most days Drew sent conflicting signals to me and just when I thought perhaps he actually liked me as more than a partner on a TV show, he’d play to the camera and flirt outrageously with the viewers. He was careful to never specify the gender of the audience he was trying to appeal to, and it caused me to question what he was up to.
He had no problem being affectionate on camera, squeezing my shoulders and tousling my hair. He had a strong and towering presence while being gentle at the same time. I ate up the attention and longed for the times when we turned off the cameras inside our tarp tent. Time when he peeled his mask off, letting his guard down a little.
“Drew!” I hissed. “The health team is here.” I jabbed him in the side.
Drew winced. “What…? Huh?” he groaned. “What time is it, baby?” he asked, stretching his arms up, yawning. His very obvious morning wood engorged right before my eyes. He grabbed it and gave it a tug, sheepish grin gracing his face. Did he just call me baby? I chalked it up to morning brain fog.
“Stop playing with your dick and tell me what to say,” I said, ignoring his use of the endearment. “This is our first visit and I’m not sure of the protocol. What do they ask? What should I say? What are they looking for? Do they do a weird exam or anything?” I rattled off a laundry list of questions before he placed his hand over my mouth. The same hand that had just been wrapped around his dick. I was instantly hard as he pretended to suffocate me, and I tried to turn away from him.
“Calm your pretty face down,” he whispered. “I left the pot on the fire outside with the rest of the fish from yesterday. Act like we’re eating well,” he advised.
The health team was having a conversation outside our thin blue tarp but we couldn’t figure out what they were saying. Their hiking boots crunched on the loose rocks on the ground, clearing their throats to announce their arrival.
“Why so fucking early?” Drew barked. “The sun is barely fucking up, guys,” he added, scooting out of the open end of the tarp tent and scratching his balls in front of the crew, two of them women. Both seemed unaffected by his egregious act and gave his privates a moments-too-long cursory look before turning away.
I stood up and made my way next to Drew, probably looking down right emaciated next to his massive frame. One of the team, an obvious queen in my estimation, glared at me and handed us each a robe and asked us to sit in folding chairs they’d brought along. Definitely gay, my gaydar pinged like crazy. Maybe he was jealous it was me who had been holed up naked for nearly two weeks with Drew.
Drew immediately picked up on it and placed his hand on my back and gestured for me to sit first, gently moving me toward one of the chairs and dragging his closer to mine. Actions exactly like that made me think Drew knew what he was doing, and that he enjoyed the tease of it all. He wasn’t really interested in me or any guy for that matter, was he? But the cameras were always rolling, and he knew how to work a crew and an audience. I didn’t feel good about it in the least. This is all for the show.
