I woke to the sound of birds outside, faint chirps threading through the stillness of the summer morning. The air was warm but light, the kind that only comes with being far away from city noise, tucked into a place where the world seemed to slow down. For a moment, I just lay there, eyes half-shut, drifting between memory and dream. I faintly remembered Theo’s arms around me last night, the way he’d lifted me off the deck after I fell asleep against his chest, carrying me inside as if I weighed nothing.
The sheets smelled like him, like sleep and skin and something I’d come to crave. I smiled at the thought before pulling myself out of bed, padding softly across the wooden floor.
Downstairs, the kitchen was filled with the faint crackle of something on the stove and the rich smell of breakfast. Theo stood at the counter in nothing but his underwear, a pan in hand, his back to me. The morning sun pooled through the window, outlining his shoulders, the curve of his waist, the quiet strength in the way he moved.
I watched him for a long moment, just taking him in; the man who had carried me inside like I was something worth protecting, who was now standing barefoot at the stove, cooking bacon and eggs like this summer belonged only to us. My chest tightened, not with lust, though I couldn’t ignore the way his briefs hugged his ass but with something heavier and warmer. Love, maybe. Or the very start of it.
I padded across the kitchen floor, and he turned before I even spoke, like he’d felt me coming.
“Morning, sunshine.”
I grinned. “Morning, babe. Last night was… uh—”
He smirked over his shoulder. “Romantic and sticky?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Did you carry me upstairs?”
He slid the spatula under the bacon, the pan crackling in reply. “Yeah. You’d passed out cold. Figured you’d get chilly out there.”
I leaned against the counter, just staring at him, this boy making me breakfast with his hair still messy from sleep, sunlight spilling in through the windows like the whole house was caught in vacation mode. He looked like everything I didn’t know I wanted; steady, playful, caring and in that moment, watching him flip bacon in nothing but his underwear, I couldn’t help but think he might already be the perfect boyfriend.
He plated the bacon and slid an egg beside it, then turned with this crooked little smile that told me he was up to something. Instead of setting the plate down, he pinched a piece of bacon between his fingers and held it out toward me.
I raised an eyebrow. “You know I’ve got hands, right? I can eat on my own.”
Theo chuckled, stepping closer. “Yeah, but I want to feed you.”
I leaned forward, teeth grazing the strip as I bit off a piece, trying not to smile but failing. He laughed, brushing a crumb from my lip with his thumb before licking it off like a tease.
“See?” he said softly. “Tastes better when I do it.”
I shook my head, grinning, but inside I was melting; half from the food, half from the fact that this boy was making me breakfast in his underwear like it was the most natural thing in the world.
______________
The rest of the morning slipped by in that lazy way only vacations seem to allow. We lingered at the table long after the plates were empty, trading dumb jokes and brushing our feet together under the chairs. At one point I picked up the old paperback I’d started the night before, while Theo stretched out on the couch, pretending to read a magazine but mostly just staring at me like I was his entertainment.
By noon the lakehouse felt thick with heat, so I wandered outside, book still in hand, and sank into the hammock strung between two trees just off the deck. The fabric swayed gently as I settled back, the branches above filtering patches of sunlight across the pages. I stretched, sighing, letting the rhythm of the hammock carry me, while Theo stayed behind on the deck with his sketchpad balanced across his knees, pencil tapping against his lip as he worked on something I couldn’t quite see.
After a while, I heard the creak of the deck boards and the soft crunch of grass under Theo’s bare feet. He came toward me with a folded sheet of paper in his hand, looking almost shy despite the grin tugging at his mouth.
“What’s that?” I asked, squinting against the sun.
“Nothing,” he said, climbing closer. “Just… something I made while you were out here looking too good to ignore.”
He handed me the paper, and my chest tightened when I unfolded it. It was me lying in the hammock, book in hand, sun cutting across my shoulders. His pencil strokes had caught the little details: the tilt of my head, the mess of my hair, even the lazy bend of my arm across my stomach.
“Theo…” I whispered, smiling. “This is just incredible. Just Wow. You made me look better than I do in real life.”
“You’re wrong,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss me. “I can’t even do your cuteness justice.”
I let out a small laugh, touched and flustered at the same time, but before I could say more, he plucked the book from my hands, then took his sketch and pinned both against a nearby tree trunk with a broken branch like he was putting them on display. Then, he climbed into the hammock with me, making it sway dangerously until he settled behind me, arms sliding around my waist.
I melted back into him, my body fitting easily against his chest. His chin rested in the curve of my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck as the hammock rocked. It was peaceful, sweet until I felt the slow press of something hard against the small of my back.
“Theo…” I teased quietly, feeling his hips shift just enough to make the shape of his arousal even clearer.
“What?” he murmured, lips brushing my ear. “I can’t help it. You look too perfect like this.”
I blushed, biting back a smile as he held me tighter, his body curled protectively and hungrily around mine. I was his little spoon, cocooned in warmth, in want, in love.
I laughed, my voice caught somewhere between disbelief and excitement. “Are we really going to—”
“Have sex on a hammock?” he cut me off, his grin wicked and boyish all at once. “Fuck yes, we are.”
I pushed my ass back against his bulge just a little, teasing, and said, “And they say romance is dead.”
He kissed the back of my neck, his hands already tugging at the waistband of my shorts, peeling them down slow like he wanted to savor every second. “Romance isn’t dead,” he murmured, pressing his bulge against me. “It’s right here… the sun, the trees, and you in my arms"
The hammock swayed gently under us, the trees whispering overhead, as if the whole world was in on our secret. And just like that, the afternoon turned into something we’d never forget.
______
The hammock rocked dangerously as Theo tugged my shorts past my thighs, and I clutched at the ropes, laughing breathlessly. “We’re going to fall, you know.”
He kissed down my shoulder, slow and tender, his breath warm against my skin. “Then we’ll fall together...having sex.”
He pulled at my shorts, slow and steady, baring me to the warm summer air. I could feel his cock hard against my ass, pushing, teasing, his chest flush with my back as I curled into the hammock. My breath hitched when his lips brushed the back of my neck, soft as a secret.
I pushed my hips back. “Theo,, uh-ah” I moaned.
“I love you. I love this,” he murmured, sliding himself free, thick and ready, pressing at me until I gasped. He moved with patience, with care, slipping in every inch of cock until I had to bury my face in the pillow of the hammock, clinging to the ropes.
“Ohhh - fuck…Theo ” I moaned, the sound carried away by the summer breeze.
He kissed the back of my neck, holding still for a beat. “You okay baby?”
I nodded quickly, reaching back to grab at his thigh, urging him. “Yeah. your cock feels so good.”
Then he started to move, slow at first, rocking us in sync with the hammock’s lazy sway. Every thrust set the fabric creaking, tilting dangerously, but the thrill only made us laugh, panting between kisses and groans. He wrapped an arm tight around my waist, keeping me close, like he was afraid the hammock or the world might take me away.
I turned my head, catching his lips. The kiss was messy, deep, his tongue sliding into me while he filled me from behind. He moaned into my mouth and it felt like the whole world narrowed down to skin and warmth and the sound of our bodies colliding.
“Fuck, you feel good baby” he breathed against me, his pace quickening. “So freaking good.”
The hammock tilted hard to one side and I yelped, both of us laughing mid-thrust. He steadied us, gripping the ropes, still inside me, forehead pressed to my face. “We’re gonna break this thing.”
“It'll be worth it,” I panted, pushing back onto him. “Completely worth it.”
His hand slid down my stomach, wrapping around my dick, stroking me in time with his thrusts. My toes curled, my whole body trembling under the sensation of his cock inside me and his hand on my own cock. He kissed me again, desperate now, swallowing my moans as I bucked into his grip.
“I’m close, Theo” I gasped.
“Me too, babe” he said, his voice thick with need. He buried himself deeper, faster, the hammock groaning beneath us. His thrusts grew ragged, urgent, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. With a cry muffled into his kiss, I exploded into his hand, shuddering as my body clenched around him.
He groaned, breaking the kiss, his hips slamming into me once again before he came, hot and thick, filling me with a rush that made me tremble all over again. He held me so tight I thought the ropes might snap, his breath harsh in my ear as the hammock rocked wildly under us.
For a moment, all we could do was breathe, tangled, sweaty, laughing softly as the hammock swayed us like a lullaby.
We lay there after, bodies still sticky, his arm wrapped around me protectively. I turned onto my side to face him, tugging my shorts back up. Theo kissed my forehead, pulling me close until I was tucked into his chest like the little spoon I secretly loved to be.
“See?” he murmured, tracing lazy circles on my hip. “Romance isn’t dead.”
“No,” I whispered, smiling as the hammock rocked us beneath the trees. “It’s right here with you.”
And with that, the world slipped quiet, summer pressing warm around us, as we drifted into a perfect kind of stillness.
-----------------------------
Theo stood up from the hammock, brushing grass and my warmth off his skin.
“I have an idea,” he said suddenly, eyes bright. Before I could ask, he jogged toward the lakehouse, bare feet slapping against the deck.
I propped myself up on an elbow, squinting after him. “What are you doing?” I called out, laughing at how giddy he looked.
No answer.
A few minutes later he came running back, a little breathless, something glinting in his hand. He dropped down beside the tree trunk where my book and his sketch of mine were propped and glanced up at me with that boyish, conspiratorial grin.
“Come here,” he said, patting the grass next to him.
I climbed out of the hammock, still a little sore and loose from everything we’d just done, padding barefoot across the patch of shade to join him. When I sat down, he held out his hand. In his palm lay a small key, the kind you’d use to wind an old clock.
I tilted my head. “What’s this for?”
“This,” he said, and motioned toward the rough bark of the tree.
My chest warmed as I realized. “Theo…”
He pressed the key into my palm and curled my fingers around it. “Something to remember this summer by. Something that’ll stay.”
We leaned together, the two of us kneeling in the grass, carving carefully into the trunk with slow, uneven strokes. Bark flaked away under our hands, the key digging out a shallow outline until the shape finally took form; a heart. Inside it, clumsy and lopsided, our initials.
T ♥ T
I ran my fingertips over the fresh grooves, smiling so hard my cheeks ached. “It’s perfect.”
He wiped his thumb across the carved lines, then slipped his arm around me, pulling me into his chest. “Now we’re part of this place,” he murmured. “Even after we leave, even after the summer’s over… we’ll still be here.”
I turned my head, kissed him softly, the kind of kiss that didn’t need to lead anywhere. Just a seal, like the carving itself. Our little claim on time.
We sat there for a long moment, the book and the sketch leaning against the base of the tree, the carved heart above them catching the late afternoon light. And for once, there was no rush; just us, the hum of cicadas, and the certainty that this was ours.
-----------------------------
We spent the rest of the night tangled up in bed, the sound of the lake just a whisper through the windows. A corny romantic movie played in the background, but we barely paid attention. Most of the time we were kissing, laughing, and stealing glances like we were already afraid of how fast it was all going.
The next morning, the lakehouse was filled with the quiet chaos of packing; zipping bags, folding clothes, shoving sneakers into duffels. I walked one last loop around the porch, memorizing the way the water looked under the sun, how the hammock still swayed slightly in the breeze.
Theo honked from the car, his grin waiting for me through the open window. I climbed in, and we drove off slowly, gravel crunching under the tires. In the rearview mirror, the lakehouse grew smaller, but the carved heart on the tree trunk stayed alive in my mind.
We didn’t talk much on the drive. Our hands found each other on the console between us, fingers laced. I leaned back, smiled at him, and thought: this was one of those summers I’d never forget.
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