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It's not Timothy's first summer camp, not by far. But this one is his last before he gets too old to attend.
He comes every year, and hangs out with the same two people every time. It's perhaps a little repetitive, but he never gets bored - Ken's antics make sure of that.
Speaking of, he should've seen him by now. With the bright green streaks he dyed into his hair last summer (much to the disappointment of the camp managers), he shouldn't be hard to miss.. but he can't see his dorky head pop up from the streams of teenagers making their way to the cabins or find their own friends.
Oh well, it's likely Jolie has a grasp on him somewhere, and they'll meet up in the cabin. Great! That's one problem solved! Unfortunately for Timothy, that only leaves room for more problems to arise. Such as this one: He can't pull his bag out of the pile..
He predicted this, honestly, it's usually the reason he tries to put his bags in last and ensure that his will be right on the top and easy to grab..
Anyway- it's fine! He'll find a solution to it, he's sure.
He just doesn't expect the solution to come in the form of large pale hands closing next to his own and pulling the bag out in one swift motion. Words barely manage to escape his mouth as he at least attempts to thank his saviour, but one glance to them make him freeze on the spot.
His saviour is - for lack of better words - giant. With electric blue hair and a stare just as galvanic, his saviour is truly like no other.
The words Timothy wants to say die on the tip of his tongue as someone appears behind blue-frankenstein and starts pulling him away, saying something he doesn't quite catch.
He doesn't know how long he spends just staring at the spot his saviour just left, his mouth hanging open in shock and his hands still tingling from the feeling of another's on them. All he knows is that the crowd is smaller by now, and Jolie is standing in front of him with a concerned look while ken waves his newest puppet around like a histrionic mime.
"Oh god he's truly gone this time" He puts his hand to his forehead dramatically, pretending to faint.
"Stop that, ken-"
Timothy can't help the smile that splits his face at this sight of his best friends, and quickly pulls them into a hug.
"I've missed you guys so much!"
Of course, his friends take no time in returning the embrace. It's warm and fulfilling and every good feeling that comes with having friends like these ones.
***
Nevermind. He takes it back. He takes it all back. It's only the first night of a five-week long trip, and neither of them will stop pestering him about the boy who froze him to the spot.
Timothy just shoves food in his mouth, trying his hardest to avoid their athirst-ridden gazes.
"Guys, seriously, he's noboody."
"Yeah right! Is this nobody handsomeee?" Ken, being the absolute little shit he is, starts making a whole show of kissy faces, only to be stopped by Jolie's elbow ramming into his side. The action quickly receives a yelp as he sits back down.
A sigh escapes Timothy's throat as he just pushes his plate to the side and lies his head on the table, hiding his rapidly reddening face from view. His attempt at defeat only invites nosy fingers to poke and pester him.
"C'monn! At least tell us what your saviour looks like!"
"You wouldn't believe me even if I did."
"Tell us tell us tell us!!"
He groans and hides even further, mumbling in the unrealistic hope that they'll drop it.
"What was that?" Ken, of course, asks with the smuggest grin he can muster.
"He's got bright blue hair.. and he's... massive. I mean huge."
With a lift of his head to find their reactions, he discovers they're exactly what he expected them to be; disbelief. Only.. what he didn't expect was their gazes to be on something other than him. Someone other than him.
He gives them a confused expression, tilting his head.
"Uhh guys..? What are you looking at..?"
"Holy Frankenstein!" Ken yells, pointing excitedly and almost jumping out of his seat, only stopped by Jolie forcibly shoving him back down.
"Be quiet!"
Timothy shrinks down, almost sliding under the table as he desperately hopes his saviour hasn't spotted him. Damn it, Ken, why do you have to be so loud? Even with Jolie's attempt of keeping him from running over, nothing is stopping him from waving Frankenstein over.
Unfortunately for Timothy, it works.
There's a boy with him, with brown spikey hair and a somewhat shy - but not at all unwelcoming - look about him. he introduces himself as Jackson and sits down in-front of ken. (big mistake).
But Timothy spares no attention towards Ken's torments. He can barely pay attention to anything other than the absolute giant in front of him. 'Says his name is Ronald - Ron for short.
Maybe it's just the sun hitting his face in all the most uncomfortable ways, but Timothy can feel himself reddening, unable to get a word to fight past the tip of his tongue.
"I'm Jolie! That's Ken- and this is Timothy" She smiles sympathetically, putting her hand on his head and ruffling his hair; as much as she's trying to help, it doesn't do much to ease the feeling of let me crawl into a hole and die. "Is this your first summer camp?"
"Ah, yes. Jackson too."
"Oooh! We'll tell you everything you need to know-! What cabin are you in?"
"Four"
Many emotions run through Timothy's mind. Many of them just tell him to scream and run away. The sly grin Jolie is sending his way isn't helping in the slightest - and something he's trying desperately to ignore, even if only to avoid feeding the feral thoughts yelling into his ear.
But he can't lie.. the idea of sharing a cabin with his saviour- sorry, Ronald - is enough to turn his face as red as his hair and split his cheeks with a smile.
Ugh! Get a grip, Timothy! You're not acting yourself! Who are you? Going.. feral over some.. some boy! Get it together!
"Oh! Timothy's in the same one! You'll get to spend soooo much time together." She sends a wink his way, accompanied with a smile way too sweet to be innocent.
"Happy to have somebody I know."
Now that is a smile he can enjoy. It's small, genuine, and probably the cutest thing he's ever seen since that chick Ken found. And just to think how much he might get to see it if they're in the same cabin!
Maybe this summer won't be like all the others. Maybe something new can blossom..
As always, there's no yang without yin. Timothy's (or rather, the entire camp's) yin, happens to come in the form of two dimwit teenagers named Ricky and Marty. The former comes with the fugliest looking curls to ever exist, but somehow just as greasy as the latter's long, blond, straggly mess. The two are just.. a mess. That's been microwaved. And reheated via a blowtorch.
Jolie groans and hides behind Ken as she watches them finish messing around with some British guy and head towards the three of them.
"Well well, looks like cutie and the goons have returned for another year!" The smug grin on Marty's face is simply begging to be slapped off.
"Hehe goon-"
"Oh my god Ken shut up for once."
"Yeah Ken, listen to the beauty and shut up!"
Just before Ken can get himself suspended from any camp activities on the first day, Ronald stands up. He towers at least half a meter over the two of them, putting their expressions of cowardice into his shadow.
"Is there problem?"
The faces Ricky and Marty make as they flea are simply gold. Timothy is sure the memory will be etched into his brain for all eternity. The screams too- all of it is just perfection. Something that only adds to his intrigue towards his saviour.
"Jesus Christ.. they just need to kiss or something." Jolie scoffs, smiling at the laughs the entire table burst into.
***
A warm water filled bucket sits by Ricky's bed in the dead of night. Timothy uses only the slight moonlight gazing in through the window to see where the idiot's hand is as he gently picks it up and places it in. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from giggling as the bedsheets saturate.
The noise Ricky makes as he wakes up only adds to his bemusement. He quickly sneaks back to bed and pretends to be just as staggered as everyone else when the lights turn on.
"MARTY!"
"Huh..?"
Marty slowly sits up and opens his eyes, not having noticed his face is caked in shaving foam. Did someone else pull a prank..? They must've, but who? No one has ever suspected small, shy, Timothy to be the mastermind behind the jokes every summer, but no one else has really paid much attention to them after the initial shock and laughter.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!?"
The realisation sinks in, and Marty tries to wipe his face clean (with little success).
"What did i do to you? What did you do to me!?"
As the two break into a kerfuffle, Timothy notices a bottle of shaving foam under someone's bed. Curiously, he returns his glasses to his face and looks to find the owner.
He never expected the owner to have electric blue hair and piercings.
Yeah. This summer is going to be different. A lot different.
And Timothy can't wait.
***
Roasted s'mores have to be one of Timothy's favourite parts of summer camp. Sometimes he doesn't even eat them, he just makes them for other people. (Typically Ken, who devours them in seconds. He claims he needs them to fuel his scary stories).
With a marshmallow over the fire, he lets his attention drift away from his friend and over to his saviour Ronald. The way the firelight casts his face in a gentle glow of amber that flickers across his features is just too distracting to look away from, and even as his wandering gaze is returned, he can't bring himself to look away.
Gentle encouragements spill from Jolie's mouth when she notices, and it doesn't take long for Timothy to find his legs betraying him, too enraptured by Ronald's effortless prettiness to stay away.
He sits down on the bench beside him, admiring the different shades of blue his hair turns into in the evening lustre.
His appearance is met with a small nod and gentle smile, only causing Timothy's heart to beat faster.
Two biscuits get placed either side of the marshmallow as it slides off the stick, forming the most delicious looking s'more Ronald might've ever seen in his life. The sparkle in his eyes catches the other's attention.
"Would you like it?"
"No. It is belonging to Timothy."
He chuckles at the sweetness of his words, hoping the sanguine of the fire hides the sanguine in his face.
"I've already had like.. four- take it."
Ronald takes it from him, although rather reluctantly, and nibbles the edge. His eyes glisten even more at the first taste and it doesn't take long for the entire thing to be gone.
Any more approval isn't needed.
The two snap back to the conversation everyone is having around the fire when the words "swim in the lake" are spoken. After a few long weeks of summer sun, paddling around and having fun in the lake is just the refresher he looks forward to each year.
That, and there's a certain prank he's been to shy to execute every summer before this. But now.. seeing as this is his last..
what's the shame in trying?
"Is something being on Timothy's mind?"
"Actually.. yeah. You know those oafs from the other day? I was thinking of.."
He leans close to whisper into his saviour's ear, letting his breath hit his skin and pretending not to notice the goosebumps that arise.
If the subtle smile that arose on Ronald's face is anything to go off, he's in. The fact is only confirmed by a nod. He even turns and whispers back to him, adding onto the plan and giving him his own ideas.
Through the hum of bugs and crackling of the fire, with s'mores powering their creativity, these two newfound friends devise a plan. A harmless, but not-so-innocent plan, and one that's sure to linger in their targets minds for at least ten summers more.
And the best part? Not a single soul suspects them. Not the timid nerd in glasses double his size, nor the gentle quiet giant that sits beside him.
It's perfect.
***
The sun is up high in the sky, casting a light onto the water that causes an illusion of glitter scattered across the surface. Timothy has to shield his eyes from the brightness of it all, yet he can't will the smile on his face to die down. He's just way too excited!
His crush on Ronald has only grown since their first meeting, and the habit they've grown of talking late into the night have surely mustn't be helping with the burning feeling in his chest.
But oh well, he isn't focused on him right now anyway (for the first time that summer). All his brain can find itself thinking of is the adroit prank that's planned for later.
He dips his toes into the water as he stands on the bank waiting for his friends. The temperature is a sweet relief to the blistering heat shining onto his bare back.
"Hey."
The voice he expects to hear first isn't the one behind him - he's almost too scared to turn around, not ready to face his saviour shirtless.
"Hi-" Is all he can muster in response, forcing his body to face him. Bad idea.
His pale skin almost glows in the sunshine, attracting Timothy's eyes like moths to a flame. It's not that he means to stare, but he can tell he isn't the only one, and Ronald either doesn't notice all the eyes on him or simply doesn't care.
"Is Timothy getting in the water?"
"Y-yeah.. I'm just waiting for Ken and Jolie."
He rips his eyes from his body, deciding his attention is better spent on a plain looking rock instead, when someone comes sprinting past them, jumping into the water and causing a splash taller than Timothy himself.
"CANNONBALLLLL!"
Ah, Ken. Of course. Well! Now that he's soaked from head to toe in icy water, he's ready to get in.
He takes his glasses off to wipe the water off the lenses when he hears it. Laughter. Sweet and soft sounding, yet still low and masculine. Quiet, like a hushed secret whispered for only him to hear.
Then a hand. Gentle, and larger than his own. It settles on his cheek, wiping away some lingering water droplets from his face - and stays.
The whole scene feels like something straight out of a romance film; the scintillating sun, the nebulous sound of teenagers laughing and splashing in the water. Everything has a soft rosy pink tint to it, and anything that isn't Ronald's face has become a blur to all his senses.
It's almost instinctual to him to lean into the touch and let his eyes flutter closed. He just can't help but feel safe near him- for obvious reasons, really. Ron has been his saviour since they met, has he not?
He has to admit it now. After spending every night up late with a torch on under the covers, and every lunchtime opening his mouth to speak rather than to eat, he has to admit he has a crush.
No. Not just a crush.
He's down bad...
"Have I ever told Timothy how pretty he is?"
Pause. He must have heard that wrong. There's no way. Absolutely no way.
"What?" Is all he can force his throat to choke out, only for Ron to cough nervously and look away.
"I said is Timothy excited for later?"
Right! The prank, for sure..
He can't say he isn't excited, he is! Really- he is! But he can't deny the part of him that wished Ronald had admitted to what he said.. if that was what he said at all.
There's no use focussing on that now, Timothy, there's a plan to enact!
***
Step one: Waiting.
For how long is answered pretty quickly, as Ricky and Marty's voices come and pester everyone's eardrums. They blabber nonsense about being the hottest guys around.. kinda gay.. but perfect for Timothy and Ronald's plan! The two rats reincarnate obsessing over each other is the most faultless distraction he can think of.
While they give each other endless praise, Timothy slides his glasses back on and meets his partner in crime's eyes. It's time for..
Step two: The Locker Room.
Now that almost everyone is outside - swimming in the lake or sitting on the bank - getting in is plain sailing. No one's inside to rat them out. The idiots even left their clothes right out on the benches.
There's a mischievous sparkle in Timothy's eye as he grabs a shirt, quickly throwing it out the window.
"God that stinks.. do they ever wash..?"
"Sure.. in each others-"
The door opens, and Timothy does the only thing he can think of; he pulls Ron into a shower cubicle.
They aren't tiny, but they certainly aren't made to fit two people.. and if he wasn't so worried about getting caught, Ron's hand hovering near his waist would send him into a mental meltdown. The heat his body gives off is almost too much to handle, and the sound of the door opening and closing as footsteps fade away is like sweet relief to Timothy's ears as he fumbles to get out.
He can't quite call the interruption unfortunate, seeing Ron that close was like a dream come true, but the timing sure was. Come one people he has a mission to complete!
Step three: Disposing Of The Clothes.
The only difficult part of throwing some pieces of fabric out a window is touching them. Sure, no ones going to be clean twenty-four/seven in the height of summer, but seriously- do these guys ever clean themselves-? Or anything!? Timothy watches as Ron even resorts to running outside and using a stick to hook the clothes onto it's that bad..
Thank god it doesn't take too long, and now the only step left is to get out and enjoy the rest of their day, until the inevitable happens.
This really is the best summer of his life.
***
Timothy floats in the lake on his back and watches as the sky slowly turns from blue to orange. Ken somehow still has energy, but diverted his effort from annoying him to instead pestering Jackson about his relationship status. Honestly, it's kind of nice. The sound of his friends- new and old- enjoying themselves, harmonising with the soft hum of crickets. It's nice.
The best part though, with no space for any doubt in his mind, is when he turns to the side to see his saviour already looking right back at him, and the smile that appears on his face.
He swims a bit closer to him with no real reason other than just.. wanting to be near him.
When Ron gently takes his hand, a shiver shoots up his spine, but he doesn't find it at all uncomfortable. It's like his skin burns wherever it's been touched by him. Like Ron is the kerosene to his flame.
Maybe there's something in the water, but he's completely imperturbable when he's near.
So obviously the only decision is to move closer.
And closer.
Until his head is gently resting on his shoulder, and Ron's arms are gliding through the water to wrap around his waist.
Until the benign thumping of his heart drowns out the sound of his surroundings.
But it's not enough. He wants more. Maybe it's selfish, but he can't find it in himself to care. He wants so much more from him.
So he moves closer. He moves his hand cup his cheek and slowly rises to his tiptoes, as his eyes steadily fall shut.
If he's selfish, let him be selfish just this once.
The beating in Ron's chest gets faster, and for a second he thinks he's made a hellacious mistake. Only till the hold on his waist tightens- a silent, yet perspicuous telling of "don't go".
So he doesn't. Why would he? There's no where on earth quite as heavenly as right here and right now. All he can do is soak in the moment, and let it become him. Let the outside world fade away to leave only him and his saviour.
Even as their lips close together, like a book with a idyllic ending, there's no feeling of unease. Perhaps he isn't quite kerosene, but instead a beeswax candle. The flame is still there, it won't ever quite leave, but it isn't loud and flaunting, it's soft, burning. In a way Timothy doesn't think he'll ever be able to describe.
They don't leave eachother. Not when they're both so hypnotised by their movements. Even as a ruckus starts up behind them, as two boys come running out with only a towel on and screaming blame at everybody, the only thing worthy of Timothy and Ron's attention is each other.
Only one thought can push it's way through their minds:
"I hope this candle never burns out."