It's no secret I'm gay, but that wasn't my choice. My freshman year, I made a pass at a friend I wanted an intimate relationship with. It was a disaster. The next day I learned the whole school knew I was gay; and worse yet, I had lost my friend. Gaydar is a joke. Even gay people can't tell if someone is gay.

Years later, I still lack the confidence to approach another guy. Male friends have been hard to make. Most guys are afraid the "gay" will rub off on them or some other such senseless bullshit. Daniel became my friend, despite the pressure to shun me. I won't risk that for an almost certain rejection of a closer relationship. That, however, doesn't mean I can't fantasize.

I'm hiking with Daniel; following him and imagining what his tight ass would look like without those jeans, what his skin would feel like, and other things.

Great; I 'm  going  to   walk off a cliff if I keep getting this distracted. I've lost the path and Daniel. The foliage looks impregnable, and I will have to backtrack.

"Come on Matt; we're almost there!" Daniel yells from somewhere in the tangle of greenery.

"I lost the path."

Daniel pushes through the trees, grinning.

"I caught you daydreaming again. Come on; you'll like this."

Following Daniel, I hear running water. After a few minutes, we emerge on the bank of a waterfalls' pool. Daniel keeps going around the pool, but I stop and take in this hidden vista. The waterfall has cut thirty-foot sheer vertical walls into the rock face. An occasional fern hangs from the few niches the cliff offers, giving a subtropical appearance to the clearing. Daniel beckons me from a narrow ledge.

Mist generated by the waterfall has nourished algae and moss, making the narrow ledge slick. Focusing on my feet, I fail to notice Daniel hasn't continued. My precarious balance fails as I bump into him. Mongoose quick, Daniel pulls me tight to his athletic body; preventing the fall. My fantasies haven't prepared me for how warm he is, or for how our bodies mesh. Pulling away before my anatomy can betray me, I let a hand linger a moment longer. My reluctance is, thankfully, misinterpreted as a balance issue.

Leaning in, so I can hear him over the falls, Daniel says "There's a crack in the rock you can hold on to for the rest of the ledge."

"Thanks."

Daniel turns and points to the crack. With this added stability, I follow him to a broader section of rock. We are at the edge of the falls, and I'm getting wet. The noise is deafening, and I can't hear Daniel. He gives up yelling and hands me a flashlight. Motioning for me to follow, he walks into the water. Hesitating; I turn on the flashlight and follow him.

Two steps and I emerge into a cave entrance. Daniel is grinning like a loon but doesn't try speaking over the waterfall. Still smiling, he beckons me to follow him deeper into the cave. Motioning for him to wait, I shut off my flashlight and turn to look at the wall of water. Sunlight filters through, but only enough to make the water look like rippling glass. Retrieving my camera; I snap several pictures before turning my flashlight back on. It's light plays across the walls and ceiling. The entrance is smooth; worn down by water over millennia. Daniel, who is still smiling, motions me on. As we move down its narrowing passage; I notice the character of the cave changes to a fissure nature wedged open, sharp and jagged. Daniel taps my arm and points to the right. His light reveals a smaller fissure he ducks into.

I'm not claustrophobic but small spaces are uncomfortable, and I'm shivering. We'd better get to whatever it is Daniel wants me to see soon; going back through the waterfall and getting colder will suck. Resigned, I duck into the fissure.

The noise from the waterfall drops significantly. So much so, that as we reach the end of the fissure, Daniel uses his normal voice to warn me. Marks on the stone not seen elsewhere are visible here.

"I had to widen the opening to get in here; gave me a new appreciation for the work stone carvers do."

Mid-smart-ass remark, my words chatter to a stop at the sight of the cavern we have entered. It looks like a gigantic partially formed geode. Veins of quartz crystal crisscross the cavern. Formations of prismatic quartz points occasionally emerge to refract our light beams in a myriad of rainbows. I understand why Daniel told me to bring my camera; this place is begging to be  photographed .

"Worth the hike?" Daniel asks.

"Yes."

My chattering teeth make it sound more like a snake hissing than an affirmation. Daniel got as wet as I did, but it hasn’t affected him the way it has me. My scrawny body can't hold on to heat as well as his. Daniel moves off, but I continue to probe the depths of the cavern with my flashlight; my mind setting up photos I want to take. A crackling sound penetrates my planning as does the change in light accompanying it. The warm glow of Daniels fire beckons me. More pictures I want to take, but warming up is the priority. Holding my camera steady would be impossible now.

Dropping my knapsack and huddling close to the fire, I notice Daniel has changed clothing. There is more here than he could have stuffed in his knapsack. A huge stack of firewood, a small cooler, a duffel bag, and who knows what else. Warmth penetrates my shivering body, stilling it. Dry clothing will help me warm up faster.

"When did you find this place?" I ask as I pull clothing out of my knapsack.

"Two months ago." Daniel replies as he opens his ever-present drawing pad.

"So this is where you have been running off to every weekend."

"Yep, did you miss me?"

"Yes." I say without thinking.

My concerns I had betrayed my desires vanish. Daniels sudden and unexplained lack of availability had upset me more than I wanted to think about. Curiosity takes center stage seeing Daniel drawing. I've asked to look at his pictures before, but he always denies me the privilege. A year back, I quit asking. Either he will show me when he is ready, or he won't. I remember how hard it was for me to show my photographs.

Taking advantage of his preoccupation, I change. Much to my dismay, I didn't bring a spare pair of shoes. A picturesque setting does nothing to change the fact  that stone is cold; standing on it, even in dry socks, sucks the heat out of you fast. How is Daniel sitting on it without freezing? Staring at him, I make out the blanket he is sitting on that matches the rock's coloring.

"Do you have another blanket?" The cold seeping into my feet is counteracting the warmth of the fire.

"Nope."

"Are you going to share that one then?" I ask.

"Nope."

At a loss for words, I move my wet tennis shoes closer to the fire.

Daniel laughs at me. I love that laugh; it's good-natured, not spiteful or malicious.

"The look on your face! I wish I had thought to grab your camera. I don't have another blanket, but I have a sleeping bag."

"Thanks."

Putting aside his drawing pad, Daniel pulls a double sleeping bag out of the duffel and spreads it next to the fire. Grateful to have something more than socks between me and the stone, I sit and point my frozen toes toward the fire. Warmth seeps in, relaxing me. Fire is hypnotic. I could take a thousand pictures and never catch that quality; I can capture the color and shapes, maybe the warmth, but never the hypnotic aspect that is fire. Stretching out, I watch the fire in silence; listening to the sound of it and Daniels drawing.

The next thing I hear is Daniel adding wood to the fire; I had fallen asleep. Daniel sits next to me as I right myself. His drawing pad is in his lap, hands straying to run over it occasionally as we watch the fire. He is so quiet I almost miss his words.

"Do you still want to see my drawings?"

"Yes."

Daniel looks apprehensive as he hands me the pad. Opening to the first drawing gives me a shock. Daniels skill is impressive though that isn't the shocking part. The surprise is that it's of me. Slowly turning the pages reveals detailed drawings of me, doing everything and nothing. Captions and questions in Daniels neat writing under some of the pictures. For a time, I can't think; only absorb these intimate drawings and words. I reach the last page; me asleep in front of the fire and these three words:

Kiss me, Matt.