Date: Sun, 23 Apr 2017 13:37:28 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Canvas Hell 22

Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/camping/canvas-hell/)
for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights
reserved. Includes sex between young-adult men. Go away if any of that is
against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if
you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to
Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.

*****

His head popped up and stared me in the eyes, worried and scared. "Do you,
Patrick? Do you?" I hesitate and then take the plunge and nod. He clamps me
into a brutal hug and mumbles into my shirt, "I have wanted to hear that
since I met you, Patrick. Please, please, please mean it. I'd die, Patrick,
if it ever stops being true. I love you so, so, so much." I feel more than
hear his sobs and clutch him closer, enveloping him in a Patrick-cocoon,
softly leaking my own tears at his words. I would rather die, myself, than
let Jim down, to not love him, to not make sure he knew I loved him. Of all
the events and choices (good and bad) that I made, this one changed my life
more than any other. It changed me for good, and for 'good' as well.

*****

Canvas Hell 22: Answers without Questions

By Bear Pup

T/T; self-discovery - Saturday afternoon

*****

"Uh, guys? It's um, lunch? Can I, uh, get some clothes?"

Jim and I unfolded ourselves, clearly having no idea how long we'd been
like that. I looked up and the tent flaps were still closed. I pulled them
apart and a furiously-blushing Karl stood there, shirt filthy, staring at
everything except us.

"How, um, long have you been here, Karl?"

"Oh, not long. May, um, maybe an hour? Or so?"

"WHAT? Why didn't you SAY something?"

Karl was a study in mortification. He was looking straight down and
scuffing the toe of his sneaker around and around in the dirt at the tent's
entrance. The response was a barely audible mumble, "{czagtrjstrood}"

Jim joined the conversation, "Karl, can you try that again, please?"

He finally looked up, apparently able to face Jim if not me. "Cuz I got
here just after you did."

The three of us stared at each other. "Uh, move over, Jim, so Karl can grab
a shirt. Can we, well, can we talk after lunch?"

Karl was already out of his old shirt and even his undershirt which was
grimy so it went as well. Apparently, Litter Patrol today was more than a
little messy. Both Jim and I watched as he yanked a short-sleeve shirt over
his furry, muscled back. He turned without making eye contact and we
trooped off to the Mess Hall.

Lunch failed to be horrible. It was supposed to be taco burgers which
normally meant a bun holding ground beef with taco seasoning plus lettuce,
tomato, sour cream, salsa, stuff like that. The only part of that the chef
could ruin, the ground beef, was simply unseasoned so we ended up with
something edible, if boring. It turned out that one of the kids was
originally from Louisiana and (thank God) sat at the same table we did. He
passed a small bottle of lethally-red hot sauce that turned the stuff into
a nice meal.

When we were done, we walked quickly to -- where else -- the Middle Earth
Dell. We slumped across the mossy stones and tufted grass. Oddly, I did not
feel the fear and angst I'd tortured myself with in the prior trips to this
little paradise. What I felt was guilt and sadness at Karl's predicament

"Karl, I am really, really sorry that I, we, embarrassed you. It w-was
wrong for us to do that, to, well, be like that in a tent that belongs to
you as much as me or Jim. And I'm sorry you saw that because I know it
makes you uncomfortable. How do we, how do *I* fix this, Karl?"

For the first time since morning, Karl actually met my eyes. He was still
blushing, but now was genuinely puzzled. "How do *you* fix it? I don't
understand. What are you apologising for? I barged in on, well, on, uh,
something r-r-really special. I really don't understand what you think you
did wrong."

Jim gave a deep and exaggerated sigh. "Let me try. I'm guessing that Mr
Martyr over there thinks he's scarred you for life by some unforgiveable
and arcane sin, and you're thinking that you're suddenly an unwelcome guest
that crashed a party." He looked at both of us, "Am I close, guys?"

I just nodded stupidly, but Karl's face was serious. "Jim, you can be flip
if you want, but I *am* the gate-crasher. You were furious at Patrick and I
was confused when he thought he should leave so you and I could, well, you
know. But now I really understand how he felt. I really *am* in the way,
Jim."

Jim threw back his head and moaned, "Lord God in Heaven, please deliver me
from idiots. Karl, you are NOT in the way, and if you do the whole 'oh my I
have to move' dance I am going to kill you myself." I just stared at
him. To be perfectly honest, I was thinking the same way Karl was. I
suddenly had something special and he was left in the cold. I felt bad
about it but I couldn't argue with Karl's feelings -- or conclusion.

Jim stood and tried to lug Karl up, a comical effort at best. He might as
well have tried to tug the mountainside. Karl finally relented and let Jim
pull him over to me. "Patrick! Stand up." It never occurred to me to not do
as I was told.

"Karl, meet Patrick. Patrick told me today that he l-loves me, and that
makes me happy. Patrick, meet Karl. Karl told me earlier this week that I
w-was really important to him and that made me feel like, like the most
special person ever. I think you two know each other because you've kissed
one-and-a-half times and saved each other to boot.

"Now, stop being stupid little boys and accept that I like -- no, FUCK it!
-- that I *love* both of you. You two now get to decide whether you're
going to r-r-rip me ap-p-part or let me..." he sniffed and I could see the
tears, "let me love you b-b-both."

Jim turned around and sat, just staring at the stream. I turned to Karl and
saw his eyes were where mine had been, the back of Jim's head. Karl looked
as torn up, lost and bewildered as I must have done. I reached out and
touched Karl's fuzzy forearm. "Walk with me for a little, Karl? Please?" He
looked up and me, shook his head and sighed, then moved with me. When we
were well out of earshot, I broke the silence.

"Karl, Jim was right. I love him... well, I'm learning what love is, I
think, a little. And I think all th-three of us love each other, in at
least some way. What I feel for Jim is like nothing I ever felt."

I looked up at him, then down and kept walking. "What I feel for you is so
different, but so strong. And he's right in another thing, too. If we can't
all three figure this out -- all three of us, not just Jim -- will be
crushed. If you, you, you were to turn away from me I'd be so, so hurt. But
if you turned away from Jim, I'd die. It would hurt him so bad that I
couldn't handle it.

"If it comes down to it and you, you c-can't take me being around, it's
okay, Karl, really. But you can protect Jim better than I can. It might
break my heart to walk away, but I'll live. But Karl, if you leave Jim,
I'll die." Karl came to a sudden halt and I walked a few paces before
realising it.

"You are a fucking bastard." His voice was level but laced with emotions so
powerful I didn't (and don't) have names for them. I turned. His hands were
balled into fists so tightly they shone white as bone and his shoulders
rippled as the muscles clenched and loosed. "It's taking everything I have
not to beat the shit out of you right here. You think Jim can live without
*you*? You blind, ignorant bastard. And you try and dump the choice off on
*me* so you, can, can, can what? Run away and play safe? Double bastard!"

"But, b-b-but Karl!"

"One more word and bits of you will be all over this goddamned forest."
There was no mistaking the growl of true and immanent threat in every word;
his voice quaked with strain. "You go back there. Right now. You left him
hurting like that? You fucking monster. He NEEDS you, you evil
bastard. Take that away from him. THINK about taking that away. And
I. And..." His voice stopped, the rage boiling over, neck a colonnade of
stark ridges. He simply glared as I gulped.

"Only--" He started to erupt and I raised my voice, "--If you come WITH ME,
Karl. We are BOTH right, Karl. He needs you. He needs me." I walked past
him, knowing that it might be the last steps I took as a living human
being. Instead of the rain of blows, he let out a snort like an angry bull
and spun to follow.

Jim was still staring at the stream. I walked behind him. My voice was
rough and harsh. "Stand up, Jim. Now!"

He spun and stood, eyes wide. That was not the tone he was expecting. "You
say that you love me. You say that you love Karl. The two of us just proved
that we each give up everything for the other to stay with you, to make you
happy. So, genius, what the fuck do we do now?" I scowled at him, genuinely
angry.

And thus we got to something unprecedented since the departure of The
Buggers: a completely speechless Jim Conner. He looked at me, then looked
for help from Karl; no quarter there in the least. He turned back to me,
still at loss.

"Jim, you *had to* have an idea of what you wanted to happen! If you didn't
what was that whole speech about?" Jim just boggled at me, shaking
slightly.

Karl's slow and low voice broke the ensuing silence. "No, Patrick, he
didn't." I looked over, following Jim's gaze. Karl was still a cauldron of
emotions, muscles tight and taut, arms crossed. It was clear that he was
still pissed, but there was a look of calculation there as well. "Jim's
doing what you did ten minutes ago. He's just better at it. He dumped *his*
problem on us to solve. And we both, Patrick, we *both* bought it."

The colour drained from Jim's face. He turned to me with pleading eyes and
I caught a glimpse of the truth's tail as if flicked back into the
deep. "No, Karl." My eyes never left Jim's. My voice was slow, but I felt
certainty build with each word. "Close, but no. That was the effect, not
the cause. That conversation we just had, Karl? I think it's been playing
in our Jim's head for a while now." Jim's eyes widened further and started
to well with moisture and I watched them flick back and forth from one of
my eyes to the other.

"And he doesn't know any more than we do how to fix this. He's scared, just
like us. He scared of hurting you, of hurting me, as much as each of us is
scared of hurting him. Yeah, he dumped it in our laps, but not on purpose,
just because he was hoping one of us had an answer, any answer." I mimicked
his taunting voice from earlier, "Am I close, guy?"

Jim nodded and moved as it to hug me then pulled back. He dropped his head
and started to bawl like the kid he had so recently been. Karl moved to my
shoulder and put his arm around me, the other reaching around Jim. I
mimicked the move and suddenly we were comforting Jim. This was not an
answer, not a solution, not even a crutch, but it was somehow healing
nonetheless.

I nearly jumped out of my skin as Karl leaned in, tentative at first, and
kissed me soundly. The intimacy froze me. He pulled back and slowly licked
his lips, as if savouring a meal. "Thank you, Patrick." He repeated it with
the still damp Jim, getting an equally-stunned response. "Thank you, Jim."

We suddenly were hugging each other so hard I could hear ribs creaking and
popping. We only relented when Jim started making little 'squished mouse'
noises. When we sat, it was not on our separate rocks, but cross-legged
with knees touching around the circle. Jim still had the occasional
hiccough but seemed recovered from the crying. His eyes, though, stayed
downcast.

Karl again was the one with the guts to move forward. He leaned forward and
lifted Jim's face by the chin. "Jim, I-- I don't know what 'love' is
supposed to be. But I don't have another word for what I feel for you," he
turned, "and Patrick, too. As scary as it is, I, I love you both.

"And you know what? We don't need an answer, a solution. What's next is
next." He dropped that bomb and sat back, a curious but open look to his
eyes.

Jim beat me to it by a hair, "What does that MEAN?!?" he wailed.

For the first time that day, Karl smiled. "That we don't have a problem or
a puzzle. There's nothing to fix. There's nothing to answer. When we fuck
it up, then we fix the fuck-up. But there's no great 'IT' to solve."

I gaped at him and Jim did as well. We looked to each other and realised
that, as usual, the quiet one was the right one. To a point. I spoke up to
acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"Karl, I get it. I do. But there are things that need to be solved, not the
Big It, but smaller ones. What about us, um, kissing?"

"I'll get used to it. Don't kiss me out in the camp, though," he grinned. I
punched his arm and regretted it. It was like punching a wall.

"I *mean* what about me and Jim, you know, like earlier?"

"I'll get used to that, too. You tell me if you want privacy, and I'll
leave if I get uncomfortable."

"B-b-b-but?"

"But what? I l-l-love you both. You love each other, too."

"But what about..." I couldn't think it much less say it.

Karl blushed furiously and swallowed. "Um, well, same rules? If I can't
deal, I'll leave. But..." Karl looked like he was on the verge of
hyperventilating. "Um, well, Jim was right the other day. That n-n-night
when he, you know, while you slept? I, well -- O, GOD -- I was so hard I
thought I'd scream...?" His voice trailed off into a question that hung
unasked.

"So if...?" I couldn't say the question either.

Karl gulped and looked to Jim, who sat there, mouth open and working but
soundless. "I don't, I don't really, well, know. You would...?"

At long last -- and at the worst possible moment -- Jim found his
voice. "He would, Karl, trust me. Even more than me." As my freckles glowed
through my nuclear blush, I glared at Jim and started to sputter. "Don't
look at me like that, Patrick. You know you would. And I'm thinking that,
well, maybe Karl wouldn't... mind as much as you think?"

Karl face was a stone mask, even his eyes failing to show any hint of what
went on behind them. The tableaux lasted for a lifetime, then Karl dropped
his eyes and whispered to his shoes, "I just don't know anymore."

"And we won't ask until you do know, Karl," I whispered back. He looked at
me long and hard, then Jim, then back down. Apparently, that was the answer
he wanted most.

We sat there, listening to the bees sing to the flowers, the brook making
music for the dragonflies, as the sun moved slowly toward the west.

<eof>

If you want to get mail notifying you of new postings or have ideas on how
I can improve my writing, e-mail me at orson.cadell@gmail.com

Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 22 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 13 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 14 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Off the Magic Carpet: 7 chapters .../military/off-the-magic-carpet/
Lake Desolation: 7 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/
Dear John Letter: 2 chapter .../military/dear-john-letter/
Brother Bear: 2 chapter .../incest/brother-bear