The next morning I eased into the seat of our river patrol raft. The seat was thin, barely big enough to sit comfortably. My package hung off the front of the seat in my shorts. I pried open the elastic with my thumb to peep in and verify their contents. "Mmmmm" I thought to myself, satisfied with what I saw. My pale bits were dangling below my dark bush, still caked with white powder - my ranger partner's dried sperm - which I had tenderly extracted last night by the fire. I loved the thought of my sack bouncing in my shorts as we crossed the rapids, grinding his sperm all over it. I would have to try my hardest not to get splashed so it wouldn't wash away. I would also have to try my hardest not sport a raging erection for the rest of the trip.
"So, Mr. Grumpypants" Dave finally broke the silence.
"I'm not grumpy!" I said.
"Well you aren't exactly sunny!" He teased.
"I'm just waking up." I defended.
"Waking up?! It's nearly lunchtime!" He laughed.
"I'm a slow riser." I groaned.
"Ok Mr. Slow Riser, it's our last day. The valley is safe from scumbags once again." He said sarcastically. We had seen no one in our days except some rafting tourists and their guides. No poachers or pyromaniacs.
"So what's next for you after this one?" He asked.
"Probably just hold the fort at home till my next mission, I guess. Might see if Mendocino Forest has any posts available." I said.
"Mendocino??" He groaned. "Aw that one's so boring. I applied to Yosemite and Zion!"
I chuckled. "So did everyone else. It would be super tough to get in with only a year experience."
"Aw you're too negative. It's all about the power of positive thinking!" He said.
"Yeah you're positive thinking is going to meet the granite wall of reality." I scoffed.
We pulled onto a shallow beach near a public parking lot where I'd stowed my jeep for the week. Our excursion was over. He started deflating the raft and I carried our packs to my jeep. We had to drop off the equipment at the main station, fill out paperwork, and head our separate ways. We climbed into my jeep, he leaned back in the passenger seat and soaked up the radiating heat with a relaxed smile.
"Ah this is nice. I could sit here forever." He sighed as I put the car in reverse and hit the road.
The roads out of the canyon were long and winding with majestic views. Different eons of rock were distinguishable as the peaks dropped into valleys. He seemed to be resting, as I wanted to. We were both exhausted from our trip. I would glance over from time to time and admire the interplay of sun and shadows on his face.
We pulled into the main station which was attached to a campground to drop off the gear owned by the park service, like the raft and oars. I knew a goodbye was coming soon. Stalking me like a predator. I couldn't avoid it, but I futilely wanted to delay it.
"Well I'm just going to rinse off before I head out. So I guess..."
"Yeah that sounds good, I'm pretty grimey, too." He cut me off before I could say "I'll see you later"
We lugged our bags to the shower house which was a rustic old brown shack, with showers that were nothing more than pipes coming straight out of the wall in little stone cubbies. That's the park service for you, cheap but functional. It was empty, and he shamelessly and single mindedly stripped, flinging his clothes all over the wooden bench. I slowly undressed, letting him get ahead of me.
I checked to make sure he was already around the corner and a frantic urge came over me. His bag was open and his clothes were strewn everywhere. I could see his crumpled hanes boxer briefs and shorts, but I grabbed one of his worn, brown, collared ranger shirts which was damp around the neck and pits. I swapped it for one of mine, thank god we both wore medium. He'd never notice.
Naked, I strode into the shower next to his. Only a small stone wall was between us that came up to our waists. He was already soaping his pits and gave out a massive "aaaahhhh" that the whole campground might have heard. This forced me to remember that now people could hear us, unlike our secluded patrol. I was on guard that some blundering tourist could stumble in and ruin our peace.
The suds ran down his neck and shoulders, then following the lines carved by his biceps. He certainly had bigger shoulders and arms than me. But my pecs were a little wider, and my short dark chest hair went higher up my pecs, almost to my neck. His chest hair was lighter and only hung from the bottom of his pecs.
I heard him rummaging around, he had unfolded some black shaving kit and hung it on the shower nozzle, with a tiny mirror on one of the folds. I finished my shower to see him naked in front of the mirror, shaving off his week's scruffy beard. His cheeks and jaw now smooth, he moved onto his adam's apple and the back of his neck. He was straining to twist and see the back of his neck in the mirror, which was fogging up, so he tried to feel if he had gotten it all with his hands. Ever wanting to help, I walked around out of my shower stall and into his, only wearing a towel.
"Dave, let me fix that for you." I said. I grabbed for his gillette razor and felt the back of his fingers slide down my palm as our grips transferred.
I grabbed his warm trapezius muscle, which swooped down from his neck to his shoulder. I was a few inches taller than him and felt powerful behind him with my hand on his shoulder. He gave me a curious but surprised smile at me through the mirror as I firmly traced the back of his neck until it was perfectly slick and smooth.
He reached back and touched his neck with his fingertips. "Oh I love that." He said. He took back his clippers. "It feels so much better when it's smooth. Here, I can get you if you want."