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The sun is setting over the lake, bathing their campsite in pink and orange light. Eric breathes in the scenery – cool forest air mixed with the smoke from the campfire and the occasional sweet aroma from one of their vapes. His gaze falls on Cameron, who is listening to their friends’ bickering and smiling to himself. He catches Eric looking and winks. Eric smiles back and ignores the warm feeling blooming in his chest. He’s just happy to be here with his friends. That’s all.
The day had been stressful enough, with the drive of their more or less operational cars across Tasmania and setting up the campsite. The chaos was to be expected with this group of misfits, each their own flavour of crazy. But now that everything is done, the cameras turned off, Eric relaxes into his chair, reveling in the autumn sun and his friends around him. He glances at Cam again and finds that he is still looking back. Eric feels himself turn red, but doesn’t look away. Cameron’s eyes sparkle with something warm that makes Eric feel at peace – at home. He tries not to look into the feeling too much.
Over the next hour or three, everyone nips on their respective drinks – beer, mostly, and the occasional shot of something stronger – and the evening is filled with laughter and pleasant conversation. Toby is the first to bid them goodnight and retreats to her and Cam’s tent. Over time, most of the others leave too, until it’s only Mason and Chad left on one side of the fire and Cameron and Eric on the other.
Their chairs are leaning heavily into each other – aided by the flimsy camping chair material and the uneven forest ground – and Cam is tapping his leg in the rhythm of the song coming from the bluetooth box.
“Stop, man, or we’re gonna fall over. My chair is already leaning more than the tower of Pisa or something,” Eric laughs, and Fitz grins at him and taps his feet even more, joined by drumming his hands on his thighs.
“We should’ve gotten the more expensive chairs, I’ve been telling everyone!”, he replies, and Eric can feel his seat reclining even more towards the ground behind them. But Cameron’s smile is wide and happy, blurry eyes indicating that he might have had a little more to drink than Eric did. It’s fine. This is fine, Eric thinks, and once again fails to turn his gaze away from his friend’s blue eyes. He smiles back.
They fall over.
Mason and Chad are screeching with laughter from across the campfire as Cameron and Eric tumble to the ground, chairs giving in under Cam’s dancing and their shared weight. Eric laughs too, looking at the glee reflecting in Cameron’s eyes in the dim light of the campfire. His back is on the floor, Cameron half-perched on top of him, half on the ground too. Cameron’s grin turns into a smirk as he stops holding himself up with his left arm and drops right on top of Eric.
“Get off, man, you’re heavy! You’re like three times my size!” Eric complains, still laughing, but Cameron makes no effort to lift himself off of Eric’s chest again.
“Oh come on, you love it,” Cam says, and winks at him again – why the hell is he doing that, Eric asks himself – before dropping his gaze to Eric’s lips. Eric freezes. Maybe he has had too much to drink after all, now he’s imagining things already.
“Hey Eric,” Cameron begins, suddenly much more quietly than he was talking before – like this is only meant for the two of them, not their audience across the fire and in the tents.
“What’s up, Cam?” Eric replies, and it comes out breathless. His face is growing warm again. When and how did the mood shift so suddenly? Cameron’s eyes are close, so close, his entire face is close, and there’s a large hand holding onto Eric’s side, and –
Eric doesn’t get to finish that thought, because suddenly Cameron’s lips are on his, softer than imagined (not that he has imagined them before), and Eric’s hands come up around Cameron’s waist to steady them, as if they’re not already on the ground. There’s no room to pull back, he’s trapped between Cameron and the forest ground, but he doesn’t want to pull back. What the hell. Faintly he can hear Mason or Chad whistling suggestively at them, but Eric doesn’t care, Cameron’s lips are moving against his, deepening the kiss, opening to let their tongues and the taste of cheap beer through.
Another moment and Cameron pulls back, grinning wildly. Eric’s brain has fully left the (non-existent) room and he just stares at Cam, who laughs a little and finally moves, offering Eric a hand to help him up once he’s standing. Eric takes the hand. Doesn’t even realize he’s touching his other hand to his own lips. Still caught in Cameron’s brilliant eyes and that familiar grin, keeping him trapped, even though he’s not on the floor anymore.
Eric mumbles something about the tent and sleep and flees the scene.
The next day is long and exhausting.
Eric is one of the first awake, tossing and turning all night. He blames it on the air mattress which has, to no one’s surprise, lost all the air within an hour of going to bed, but really it was his head that kept him up. Playing the scene from before over and over. Cam’s lips on his own. Hand digging into his side, firmly, but not too harsh. The taste of alcohol and something that’s just Cam on his lips. Breathing him in. Feeling like there’s no one in the world except the two of them.
When Cameron finally emerges from his own tent about 30 minutes after they had planned to start packing up again, Eric can see he’s fighting a hangover. He sits at the campfire for a moment, rubbing his eyes, blearily staring into the distance. Eric does not join him, avoids talking to him until the camp is packed up and he’s standing at the edge of the cliff, looking over the lake, sucking on his vape like his life is depending on it. Cameron stands next to him – in a safe distance, not like the night before – and clears his throat. Eric doesn’t look at him.
“Hey, um. About last night. I don’t remember much, I was pretty fucked up, but uhh… we’re good, right? All fun and games?” Cameron says quietly and has the decency to actually sound a little unsure. Eric looks up at him and smiles, hoping it looks convincing.
“We’re all good, man. Don’t worry about it.”
Cameron looks relieved and relaxes, turning towards the lake. Eric stares at the taller man for another second before nodding to himself, taking one last drag and shoving the vape in his pocket. The warm feeling in his chest that seems to overwhelm him whenever he’s with Cam does not subside.
He’s totally fucked.
They drive up the mountain, hike through Tasmania’s wildlife for a bit, spend some time at the lake. Eric tries to keep up the happy-go-lucky attitude for the cameras, jokes around with the others as usual, but his mind is elsewhere. He tries not to spend any time alone with Cameron and is glad that they’re driving in different cars on the way to the equally separate airbnbs. If Cam notices the distancing, he doesn’t mention it.
The 8 hour drive is hell, him and Matt taking turns going down the dark Tasmania roads, only narrowly dodging kangaroos, rabbits and other wildlife. By the time they arrive at their airbnbs, it’s 4am and Eric feels like he’s dying. He falls into bed and is asleep within seconds.
His dreams are filled with blue, sparkly eyes and soft lips. Big hands holding on to him. A heartbeat on top of his own. He wakes up early again, trying not to think about it further, which fails immediately.
Still, he feels better in the morning than the night before, having slept in a real bed. They’re headed to the Gordon Dam. It’s impressive, but a little terrifying. Eric isn’t too fond of heights, but he stands at the top with Toby and Cam, looking down at the massive structure. It feels like looking at an Old God – surely the cameras won’t be able to do it justice, but they’re filming anyway, of course.
Eric feels tense looking at Cameron, who is standing at the barrier of the lookout, joking around into the camera. He’s still not sure what to do about his unfortunate… affection towards his friend. It’s too much. But ignoring it proves more and more impossible. Any time he looks at Cam, his heart skips a beat. Every time they touch for even a millisecond, memories of their kiss are flooding back into his mind, clouding his brain with a desire to pull the other close again, to feel the same sensations just one more time. He knows he can’t. The kiss was a drunken joke, he knows that – hell, in the years since their little gang started, pretty much everyone has kissed everyone at least once. It was nothing, he tells himself. It’s still nothing. He would get over it.
If only his heart could believe that too.
He returns back to reality just in time to see Cam turn towards the railing again.
“Bit far down,” Cameron jokes, and Eric agrees. There’s a pause. Eric can feel it coming before it happens.
Cameron feigns lightheartedness, the camera on him.
“Well, nothing else for it!” he exclaims and surges forward, lifting one leg as if to jump the railing into the abyss.
The scream Eric lets loose leaves him before he has even realized it. Cameron turns around and laughs, pointing at him, and Eric feels the waves of anxiety crashing over him and pulling him down. He feels sick. Along with the panic in him rises anger – why the fuck would Cameron do this? Even to joke about it, it’s not – Eric can’t – he doesn’t know how to breathe.
“FUCK THIS,” is the only thing he can say (shout, more accurately), before he runs back towards the car.
Getting away from the cliff and Cameron only helps very little. He still can’t breathe. His hands and feet feel numb. He’s lightheaded. Before he realizes it, the panic attack has taken over his entire body, and he crouches down next to their car, leaning against it as his vision blurs.
He tries to gain control over his breathing again when he feels gentle hands holding him by the shoulders.
“Eric? Are you okay?” Toby asks. He shakes his head, at the same time glad she is here and ashamed that she sees him like this. Toby hums understandingly.
“Okay, breathe with me. In… out… in… out…”
It takes at least another 10 minutes before Eric feels he can safely breathe again. Before he doesn’t feel like he’s dying anymore. Toby’s stern, but gentle eyes search his face and she nods when she sees him relax again.
“I’m sorry about that, Ric. Cam can be an arsehole sometimes.” She offers him a hand to get up – Eric feels a sharp tug in his chest when he realizes the parallel to the night at the campsite – and he stumbles as he rises again, holding on to his friend for dear life. When he’s steady on his feet again, he looks at Toby, and he can see the worry and sympathy in her face. She pulls him into a soft hug. Eric sinks into her side and sobs.
They sleep at an old-church-turned-airbnb that night. On the way, Eric’s phone pings.
BadGuyFitz
04:36pm
u ok?
4:41pm
sry about earlier
4:42pm
friends again?
Eric doesn’t reply.
They arrive at the church with more headlights working than the night before and a lot more time before they need to hit the hay. Cameron is sitting at the piano, playing less-than-perfect chords, but it still sounds unfairly good. Eric is staring at him from the sofa across the room. The panic from earlier still hasn’t fully left his bones. And yet – even though he should hate his guts right now, has every right to be angry – he still wants to be close to Cam, somehow. Even if it’s just sitting in the same room, letting the evening hours pass until they go to sleep. Toby sits next to him and shoots him a knowing look. He turns back to his phone and pretends not to notice.
Chad is badly singing along to something Cameron is playing, Cam laughing, and Eric can’t stop looking at him. Cameron catches him looking, again. Holds his gaze. The warm feeling in Eric’s chest is back, spreading through his body in the way that his panic attack did earlier. Only now it’s different. His heart is beating fast, but instead of running away from him, it’s like he’s tethered to Cameron. He can’t move.
Chad runs in between them butt-naked and it breaks the spell. Eric gets up, announces to Toby that he’s going for a smoke, and pointedly does not look at Cameron as he rushes past and out the door.
He’s only taken two drags from the spliff in his hands before he hears the door open behind him again, someone stepping outside and stopping next to him. He doesn’t need to turn his head to know who it is.
“Can I have a drag?” Cameron asks, and Eric wordlessly hands him the joint, still not looking him in the eyes. Cameron breathes in, hands it back. Puts his hands in his pockets.
“Are you ignoring me?” he asks eventually. Eric scoffs. Looks up at Cameron, finally. The closeness of the blue eyes, dark in the moonlight but no less sparkly, hits him like a push to the chest.
“I’m not ignoring you,” Eric lies. He doesn’t know what to say. What does Cameron want from him? Can’t he leave him in peace, to wallow in self-pity that he is so good at by now?
“Sure you’re not.” Cameron stares him down. It’s not fair that Eric has to look up to him due to the sheer height difference, but of course it’s always been like that. It just feels even more insulting now.
“Listen, if this is about my joke this afternoon, I really am sorry,” Cam starts again. It brings up memories of him pretending to jump to his death. Eric tries to focus on his breathing. In. Out. He looks at a street light ahead of them and pretends not to notice Cameron taking another step closer towards him.
“It’s fine–” he begins to reply, but Cameron speaks at the same time.
“We both know–”
“Huh?” Eric feels anxiety and anger swirling in his head. Not nearly as bad as this afternoon, but it’s there. He gestures for Cameron to keep speaking.
“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but we both know you’ve been weird to me even before this afternoon.” Eric whips around and stares into Cam’s eyes. Cameron shrugs with forced nonchalance.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? You’ve been there with everyone else, of course, but you won’t spend more than a minute talking to me, and leave the second we’re alone together.” It’s a fair assessment, of course. Eric had tried his very best to not be alone with Cameron after the campsite night. He couldn’t bear it. Like now.
“And–” Cameron bites his lip, like he’s considering whether or not he should say it, but continues, “This afternoon at the Dam, you just disappeared.”
Eric breathes in sharply. Takes a step back. The anger, only a memory from earlier until this point, boils up quicker than he can control. He bites out a bitter laugh.
“I disappeared , Cam,” he forces his voice to stay calm, but it’s barely working, “because I was trying to get out of a fucking panic attack because I thought you were going to fucking kill yourself in front of me !” He presses two fingers against his temples. A debilitating headache is threatening to emerge, he can feel it.
Cameron looks shocked, at least. So he has some decency left in him.
“I wasn’t– I didn’t mean to push you into a panic attack, Eric, fuck,” he says quietly, and his eyes are filled with remorse. Eric can’t stand it. He wants to get away, but his feet are glued to the ground. He continues talking without wanting to.
“And you wanna know why I can’t be around you right now, Cam? You’re– I have to be right next to you, while you’re all happy and making your stupid jokes and being the life of the party while I can’t fucking sleep at night because you fucking kissed me for no reason and I can’t stop thinking about it! And I know that’s not fair and you didn’t mean it as anything but a joke, but fuck , I can’t do it anymore, I really can’t, because if I keep being close to you I’ll fuck up and you’ll realize I’m fucking in love with you for some reason and you’ll leave and it will fuck it all up. So. That’s why I’m ignoring you. There.”
His voice is sharp and unbearably loud in the calm evening scenery. Eric is breathing heavily, swaying backwards when he realizes what just happened. What he just said.
Fuck.
Cameron is staring at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Eric hears how tired he sounds, now, and there’s nothing he can do to play this off as a joke. He’s sober except for the joint he smoked five minutes ago. There’s no excuse.
“I’ll go,” he adds tiredly, and turns, but Cameron’s hand catches him by the shoulder.
“I… I didn’t know,” he starts, and Eric wants to laugh, because until a few days ago, he hadn’t known either. Not really. It had all been there, of course, but he had not wanted to look.
“Um. Can you give me, like, a bit of time to process this? I’m… I need to to think about a few things,” Cameron speaks fast, stumbling over his own words, and Eric can only nod before Cameron is already rushing back inside.
Eric stands outside in the brisk Tasmanian night air and wishes he could just disappear.
Once again, Eric’s dreams are filled with blue eyes and blonde hair, but he shoves it off as he wakes. Cameron knows now – so it’s time to get over it. He has to. There’s no way out except forward.
It tastes bitter on his tongue, the rejection burning into his soul. But he’s used to it. He can deal with this. Same as he always has.
He makes it through the drives of the day without crying and is almost proud of himself, if it weren’t so goddamn pathetic. Toby pats his head sympathetically while they’re at the gas station waiting for their respective passengers to return from inside. Eric pulls a face at her. She laughs, but it still makes him feel a little better, somehow.
They arrive at their last airbnb earlier than the past few days, and it’s a normal house for once, with multiple rooms and regular beds. Everyone is humming with excitement for their last evening before the way back, and Eric lets himself be pulled up by the general good mood. Cam smiles at him across the parking lot and Eric smiles back, carefully hoping. Maybe it would be fine. Maybe Cameron wouldn’t run away just because of his silly feelings. Maybe they could just go back to the way it was before.
Chef David is there, cooking them a weird but at the same time delectable meal. The vibes are good. Everyone is laughing and drinking. Cameron is sitting next to him at the dinner table.
Eric steals a glance every once in a while, and more often than not, Cameron catches him. A few times he is already looking at him first. Eric pushes down the treacherous adrenaline spurring along his heart and smiles at Cam.
After dinner is done, they stay outside as long as the light will allow, drinking, smoking and playing stupid card games. Eric is right in the middle of it, screaming bloody murder when Mason steals his win, and laughing maniacally when he wins the next round. They’re gathered a little closer around the table than before so everyone can reach. Cameron is on his right-hand side, leaning as close as he possibly can, even though he has no troubles reaching across the board. Eric’s heart beats faster, but he tries not to read into it.
At one point, they all shotgun a beer each, and Eric is pleasantly buzzed, the same as Cameron, he assumes, who is only nipping on a small glass of whiskey throughout the games. Some of the others – cough, Mason and Chad, cough – are on the path to being absolutely shitfaced, as always, and Eric laughs at them yelling unintelligible things at each other when one accuses the other of cheating at the game. Mason jumps up to chase Chad, who flees inside the house, and most of the others follow.
Eric is so preoccupied with laughing about his idiot friends that for a moment, he doesn’t realize it’s only him and Cameron left outside. When he finally does realize, Cameron is already looking at him again. Eric can feel the blood rising into his cheeks. He pulls out his grinder and papers and starts building a joint just so he has something else he can focus on.
Cameron watches him, and when Eric is done, follows him a few steps along to the side of the house – away from the door – so they can light it. They’re still not speaking, but the situation, so eerily similar to the one the night before, feels peaceful. Eric knows part of that is the alcohol and the weed, but there’s also something in the way Cameron has been looking at him all day. Like he’s glad that Eric is there.
Eric takes a few drags and hands the joint over to Cam. He stares at the way Cameron’s lips close around the blunt for a second too long. Cam catches him and grins. Eric thinks the blush from a moment ago never left his face, anyways.
They pass the joint back and forth until it’s done, and Eric crushes it under the heel of his shoe. He studies the ground for a bit longer, and when he looks back up, Cam is closer than he was before. They stand face to face – Eric has to look up, but he’s used to it – and Cameron starts speaking first.
“Hey, Ric,” the nickname sounds so different on Cam’s lips than it did coming from Toby, “I wanted to, um, talk about yesterday. If that’s… if that’s okay.” Eric tenses up immediately, without wanting to, but Cam raises his hand in a way that calms Eric’s fears a little. He talks differently, too. Like he’s choosing his words carefully. Like he wants to do this right. Eric takes a deep breath and motions for Cam to continue. He wishes his voice wouldn’t leave him so quickly in situations like this, but Cam seems to understand, and presses on with a soft smile.
“So I’ve thought about things… about… about us. And about why I kissed you on the campsite. I mean, I was a little drunk, but mainly, I just… fuck. I don’t really know how to– I’m not good at this shit,” Cam stammers, and before Eric realizes, he puts a hand on Cam’s – stretched towards him in the little space between them – to calm him down, to reassure him, maybe, he doesn’t know – and Cam sucks in the air sharply and mutters,
“Fuck it.”
He swiftly but gently cups Eric’s face in his other hand and closes the space between them. Soft lips land on Eric’s, again, like a déjà vu, only better. He breathes in, his eyes closing involuntarily. He lives in the feeling, for a moment not thinking about anything else except him and Cam, in this very moment. The rest of the world ceases to exist.
It ends too quickly for Eric’s liking. He stands there, blinking at his friend, who is smiling like he knows a secret that becomes more special by passing it on.
“Does that mean… um…” It’s Eric’s turn to stumble over his words. Cameron grins and nods.
“I kissed you that night because I wanted to, is what I meant to say. Because I like you. Because I love you, actually. Sorry I was too pussy to say it sooner.”
Cam laughs. His eyes are sparkling with something beautiful again. Something familiar. Something that looks like home.
Eric grabs Cam’s shirt by the collar and pulls him down into another kiss, this time much less chaste than before. Cam grins into the kiss and pulls him closer.
And as Eric melts into the embrace of the love of his life – fuck, when did that happen? – he only barely registers Toby’s voice, laughing from the terrace door.
“Fucking finally.”