His Wild Scent

PART ONE

The air conditioning in my dad's oversized SUV was working overtime, but I could still feel sweat gathering at the base of my neck. City summers were suffocating, which is why I was actually kind of looking forward to this camping trip, though "looking forward" might be a generous description of my current emotional state.

My dad, Mark, gripped the steering wheel with his perpetually tanned hands, his Ray Bans reflecting the highway and occasional billboards. At fifty two, he still maintained the physique of a former college athlete: broad shoulders, a slight paunch that spoke of good living, but still fundamentally strong. He'd been talking about this trip for weeks, excited to reconnect with his old college buddy, Jim.

"You're gonna love Leo," Dad said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "Jim's son. He's about your age, really outdoorsy. Not like you," he added with a chuckle that was more affectionate than mocking.

My mom, Elena, turned in her passenger seat, her perfectly highlighted brown hair falling just so around her shoulders. She worked in marketing and always looked like she'd just stepped out of a magazine, even on a road trip. "Wyatt's outdoorsy in his own way, Mark," she said, which we both knew was code for "he's good with computers and knows the best coffee shops."

I adjusted my glasses and tried not to look as nervous as I felt. Meeting new people, especially someone described as "really outdoorsy," made my palms sweat. I was more comfortable with my coding projects and indie music playlists than with wilderness and... whatever Leo might represent.

The SUV turned off the main highway onto a progressively narrower road. Pine trees started closing in, creating a green tunnel that was simultaneously beautiful and slightly claustrophobic. My urban survival skills felt increasingly irrelevant with each mile.

When we finally pulled into the campground, I saw Jim's truck already parked at the designated site and that's when I first saw Leo.

He was standing casually beside the truck, one foot propped against the bumper, wearing cargo shorts and a faded blue tank top that showed off muscular arms. Sun-kissed skin, a baseball cap turned backwards, and the kind of confident posture that suggested he was completely at ease anywhere, especially here, in the wilderness.

As we got out of the car, Leo pushed off from the truck and walked over with a swagger that was simultaneously relaxed and purposeful. Up close, he was even more impressive: probably six foot two, with light brown hair that looked like it had been bleached a bit by the sun, and green eyes that seemed to take in everything at once.

"Hey!" Leo's voice was deep, friendly, with just a hint of a laugh underneath. When he stuck out his hand to shake mine, his grip was firm but not aggressive. "You must be Wyatt."

I felt myself blushing instantly. Damn it. "Hi," I managed, hoping I didn't sound as awkward as I felt.

He grinned, the kind of grin that suggested he found everything slightly amusing.

"Dad says you're into tech stuff. Bet you know all about computers, huh?"

The way he said it didn't feel like a challenge, more like genuine curiosity. But I still felt myself getting flustered. "Um, yeah. I do some programming."

"Cool," Leo said, and something in his easy acceptance made me relax just a fraction.

Just then, Jim, Leo's dad, walked over. He was cut from the same rugged cloth as my father, but with a more weathered look. Deep laugh lines around his eyes, skin tanned from years of outdoor work, and a firm handshake that nearly crushed my fingers when he greeted me.

"Wyatt!" Jim's voice boomed with the kind of confidence that seemed to be a genetic trait in his family. "Mark told me all about you. Computer whiz, huh?"

Before I could stammer out a response, Leo's mom approached. Unlike the outdoorsy vibe of her husband and son, she looked more like she'd stepped out of a suburban book club. Perfectly pressed khaki shorts, a crisp white polo shirt, and reading glasses perched on top of her head. Sarah, my dad had called her.

"Welcome, Wyatt. I'm Sarah" she said, her smile warm but slightly studied. The kind of smile perfected by years of corporate networking events. She gave me a quick hug, the type that's more of a polite social gesture than a genuine embrace.

Our parents quickly fell into familiar patterns. My dad and Jim started discussing camping gear, comparing the merits of their new portable grills and discussing some shared college memory. My mom and Sarah began talking about work, something about marketing strategies and corporate restructuring.

Leo leaned in close, his breath warm near my ear. "Parents, right?" he whispered, a conspiratorial chuckle underneath his words. "Wanna get out of here?"

The proximity made my heart race. He smelled like sunscreen and something woodsy. Pine, maybe, or cedar. I nodded, probably a bit too eagerly.

"Come on," Leo said, grabbing my arm with a casual touch that sent unexpected electricity through my skin. "I'll show you our campsite."

He pulled me away from the parents' conversation, his grip firm but not aggressive. The campground was a patchwork of RVs, tents, and small clearings. Massive pine trees created natural boundaries between sites, their branches casting intricate shadow patterns on the ground.

Our site was a short walk down a narrow path. Leo moved with an easy confidence, stepping over tree roots and navigating the uneven ground like it was a perfectly smooth sidewalk. I, on the other hand, nearly tripped twice, catching myself with awkward little hops that I was certain looked ridiculous.

"Careful there, city boy," Leo laughed, not unkindly. He reached back and steadied me with a hand on my shoulder. "You're gonna need to work on your wilderness skills."

The small camper came into view. It was compact, maybe twenty feet long, with a slightly faded blue and white paint job. A few folding chairs were set up nearby, and Leo's backpack was already tossed casually beside one of them.

"Home sweet home," he announced, giving the camper a playful pat. "You ready for the best summer of your life?"

I wasn't sure if I was ready. But looking at Leo with his easy smile, the way sunlight caught the edges of his profile, I was definitely intrigued.

Leo bounded up the small metal steps and threw open the camper door with a dramatic flourish. "Welcome to my humble abode," he proclaimed, gesturing inside with an exaggerated bow.

The interior was a time capsule of 1980s camping aesthetic. Mustard yellow cushions covered the seating areas, which doubled as sleeping spaces. Wood paneled walls were adorned with faded maps and a few vintage fishing photographs. A tiny kitchenette ran along one side, complete with a mini fridge that looked like it had survived multiple decades of camping trips.

"She's not much," Leo said, running a hand along the wood grain countertop, "but she's got character."

I followed him inside, ducking to avoid hitting my head on the low ceiling. The space was tight, so tight that when Leo moved, we were practically brushing against each other. He seemed completely unfazed by the close quarters. Me? I was hyperaware of every inch of space between us.

"So," Leo said, popping open the mini-fridge, "beer?" He pulled out a local craft brew, the label covered in mountains and pine trees.

"Oh, um, no thanks," I stammered. "I'm not much of a drinker."

Leo shrugged, twisting off the cap with a quick motion of his hand. "More for me."

He took a massive gulp, then let out a thunderous burp that seemed to shake the entire camper. Immediately after, he turned and gave me a shit-eating grin, clearly proud of his bodily function performance.

I shouldn't have found it attractive. But something about his uninhibited, purely masculine energy made me blush and laugh nervously. "Impressive," I managed, trying to sound cool and failing spectacularly.

Leo's laugh was deep and genuine. "City boys," he teased, bumping my shoulder. "I got a lot to teach you about camping."

The "I" hung in the air between us, a promise of shared experiences, of something more than just a summer camping trip. And despite myself, despite my carefully curated urban existence, I found myself wanting to learn everything Leo might want to teach me.

He dropped onto one of the cushioned benches, spreading his legs in a way that could only be described as peak masculine energy. One arm draped casually over the back of the seat, the other bringing the beer bottle to his lips. The move was so effortless, so natural, that it seemed like a masterclass in relaxed confidence.

I tried, and spectacularly failed, to not stare at the way his cargo shorts stretched across his... well, everything.

"So," Leo said, taking another swig of beer, "tell me about yourself. What does a tech guy do for fun in the city?"

My eyes darted up to his face, hoping he hadn't caught me mid ogle. "I, uh, mostly code. Work on some indie game development projects. Hang out in coffee shops." The words tumbled out like they were trying to prove how interesting I was, which, let's be honest, they absolutely were not.

Leo's eyebrow raised, just a fraction. "Indie games, huh? That's actually pretty cool." He took another sip, his throat working as he swallowed. "What kind of games?"

I felt myself warming up, my nervous energy finding its groove. "Mostly narrative driven indie stuff. Puzzle games with interesting storytelling mechanics." I was about to launch into a detailed explanation, my specialty, when Leo's amused smile stopped me.

"Sounds complicated," he said, but not in a dismissive way. More like he was genuinely interested in hearing more, even if he didn't fully understand.

A bead of condensation rolled down his beer bottle. I definitely was not tracking its path. Nope. Not at all.

"So," Leo continued, his questioning shifting gears, "got a girlfriend back in the city?"

The question hung in the air. I felt my cheeks flush, a mixture of nervousness and relief at the chance to be honest. "No girlfriend," I stammered. Then, gathering whatever courage I could muster, "Actually, I'm into guys."

Leo nodded, completely unfazed. "Cool," he said, taking another swig of his beer. "I'm pretty fluid myself. Into dudes and chicks." He said it with such casual confidence that it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Before I could formulate a response, Leo casually scratched his crotch, a move so unapologetically masculine that I found myself both shocked and weirdly captivated. Then, without any warning or apparent shame, he grunted and released a massive, raunchy fart that seemed to vibrate the entire camper's cushions.

He bit his lip, looking directly into my eyes with a mix of challenge and amusement. Then, as if that wasn't enough, he proceeded to rip another thunderous blast that would make a frat bro proud.

I should have been disgusted. I should have been repulsed. Instead, I found myself weirdly turned on by his complete lack of inhibition. There was something brutally honest about Leo, no filters, no pretense, just pure, unfiltered masculinity.

My city boy sensibilities were completely short circuiting.

The smell was... intense. Raunchy wouldn't even begin to cover it. Leo seemed completely unbothered, chuckling as he dramatically waved his hand in front of his face and got up to push open the camper's small windows.

"Didn't want to completely gas you out on day one," he said with a wink. "Gotta save something for later."

I tried not to stare at the seat cushion where he'd been sitting. Tried really hard not to let my mind wander to any inappropriate places. The combination of Leo's masculine energy and that primal, musky aftermath was doing things to my imagination that I absolutely should not be exploring.

Leo stood up, stretching, his tank top riding up just enough to show a tantalizing strip of muscled abdomen. "Swimming?" he suggested. "There's a lake just past those trees. Perfect for cooling off."

"Sounds good," I managed, grateful for the distraction and the chance to change the subject and hopefully cool down my overheated imagination.

He tossed me a pair of swim shorts from a small drawer. They landed squarely on my chest, a perfect throw that made me feel both incompetent and weirdly excited. The shorts were a deep navy blue with a subtle athletic stripe, definitely not the kind of carefully curated swimwear I'd typically wear in the city.

"Those should fit," Leo said, already pulling off his tank top.

I tried, and failed, not to stare as he changed, my eyes tracing the lines of his muscled back, the way his cargo shorts dropped to reveal--

Nope. Definitely not going to think about that.

"You coming?" Leo called, already halfway out the camper door, swim shorts hanging low on his hips.

I scrambled to change, hoping he couldn't see how flustered I was.

The lake was nothing like the carefully curated urban parks I was used to.

Surrounded by pine trees, the water looked like a massive, cool emerald nestled between rocky shores and dense forest. A few people lounged on the grassy areas near the shoreline, two sunbathers so far away they were barely more than distant shapes.

Leo walked with that same confident swagger, his bare feet padding easily over the rocky ground. Just before we reached the water's edge, he reached out and squeezed my shoulder, a casual touch that sent an unexpected jolt through my entire body.

"Race you in!" he shouted, and then he was gone, sprinting into the water with a whoop that echoed across the lake.

I pushed my glasses up, knowing I'd need to take them off before swimming and watched him. The way his muscled back caught the sunlight, the splash of water around him, the pure unbridled joy of his movement. For a moment, I just stood there, transfixed.

"You coming or what?" Leo called back, water droplets flying as he turned.

I carefully placed my glasses on a nearby rock, suddenly feeling vulnerable without them. The world became a softer, blurrier landscape. I approached the water's edge, dipping one toe in.

"Holy shit!" The water was freezing.

Leo's laugh rang out. "Seriously? City boy can't handle a little cold water?"

I inched forward, each step a minor battle against the shocking temperature. Leo watched, clearly enjoying my dramatic entrance.

"It's like ice!" I protested, moving at a glacial pace.

"Oh my god," Leo teased, "just jump in already!"

Finally, with a yelp that was equal parts shock and determination, I plunged fully into the water. The cold hit me like a thousand tiny needles, stealing my breath for a moment. Leo was laughing, a deep, genuine sound that made the momentary discomfort worth it.

"You're such a wimp," he said, splashing water at me.

I retaliated immediately, sending a spray back at him. "Takes one to know one!"

The water fight escalated quickly. Leo was clearly more at home in this environment, moving through the water with the grace of someone who'd spent countless summers swimming. I, on the other hand, was more like a somewhat coordinated drowning cat.

When he lunged at me, I instinctively tried to dodge. His wet skin brushed against my arm, and in that moment of contact, my hand, almost involuntarily, traced the curve of his bicep. The muscle was solid, defined, warm despite the cold water.

Leo caught my hand mid-touch. His eyes met mine, that trademark smirk spreading across his face. "Like what you feel?" he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine and not just from the cold water.

I should have been embarrassed. I wanted to be embarrassed. But something in Leo's playful confidence made me want to lean into the moment instead of pulling away.

"Maybe," I managed, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Leo's laugh was a victory and a challenge all at once.

He swam a little closer, close enough that I could feel the water moving between us. "So," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye, "back in the camper. Those farts I dropped. They get you going or what?"

I felt my entire face flame up. "What? No!" The denial came out far too quickly to sound convincing.

Leo's grin widened. "You're blushing, city boy."

"I am not!" I protested, which only made me blush harder.

"Totally are," he teased, nudging me with his shoulder. The proximity, the water, the absolute shamelessness of the moment--it was overwhelming.

And then, something unexpected happened. I started to laugh. Not a nervous giggle, but a full, genuine laugh that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. Leo joined in, our laughter echoing across the nearly empty lake.

"Okay, fine," I finally managed, wiping water from my eyes. "Maybe it was... slightly amusing."

"Slightly?" Leo raised an eyebrow. "I'll take it as a compliment."

He reached out and ruffled my middle-parted black hair, the touch sending an unexpected flutter through my chest. His hand lingered for just a moment, and then he said, almost casually, "You're pretty cute, you know that?"

My heart did something that definitely wasn't medically advisable. Skipped? Somersaulted? Temporarily forgot how to beat? All of the above.

Before I could get too flustered, I mustered up just enough courage for a comeback.

"I suppose you're not absolutely hideous to look at," I shot back, trying to sound nonchalant and failing spectacularly.

Leo's laugh was like thunder across the water, deep, genuine, absolutely unrestrained.

Suddenly, he scrunched up his face in an exaggerated expression, eyes crossed, tongue slightly out. Before I could react, he blasted a massive underwater fart. An eruption of bubbles burst behind him, followed by a raunchy smell that even the lake water couldn't completely mask.

"Oh my GOD!" I dramatically recoiled, trying to sound disgusted while secretly finding it hilarious and... sexy.

Leo was cackling, completely unashamed. "That's how we fish 'round these parts," he declared with mock seriousness. Then, with the most ridiculous grin, he added, "A little piss might've snuck out with that one."

I shouldn't have found it attractive. I absolutely should not have found it attractive.

But somehow, I absolutely did.

The initial excitement of our water play settled into a comfortable quiet. The lake was peaceful, with only occasional bird calls and the soft lapping of water against the shore. Leo floated on his back, eyes closed, looking like he was born for moments exactly like this. I found myself watching him, tracing the lines of his profile, the way water droplets caught the sunlight on his skin.

After a few moments of peaceful floating, Leo turned towards me. "Come here," he whispered, his voice low.

I moved closer, my heart picking up speed. When I was just inches away, Leo leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.

"I'm a little excited," he murmured, "if you know what I mean."

"Yeah?" The word came out as barely a whisper, my face turning beet red.

Leo nodded, that trademark smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"If you uh, wanted to tou--"

"Well, look who we have here!"

The moment was shattered by a booming voice. Our parents emerged from the tree line like a perfectly timed comedy sketch, my dad's Ray-Bans reflecting the lake, Leo's dad carrying a cooler, our moms trailing behind with an array of beach towels and sunscreen.

Jim, Leo's dad, let out a loud whoop. "Found you boys!"

My mom, ever the marketing professional, looked like she'd stepped out of a resort catalog, with her oversized sunhat, pristine white cover-up, perfectly applied sunscreen. "Are you boys staying hydrated?" she called, completely oblivious to the moment she'd just interrupted.

Leo caught my eye. The look we shared was a mixture of frustration, humor, and shared conspiracy.