Morning settled over the forest in soft gold and birdsong. The campsite was quiet except for the gentle sizzle of pancakes and the clatter of mismatched mugs. Smoke curled lazily from the firepit, where Cal was flipping pancakes on a flat skillet with impressive focus for someone who definitely hadn't slept.
Bea, sitting cross-legged on a log bench, perked up the second she saw Cleo and Riz walking toward the group from their tent.
"*Well, well, well,*" she announced, raising her eyebrows in exaggerated amusement. "Look who finally emerged from their love nest."
Riz blinked, squinting into the sun. "How are you already this awake?"
Bea grinned. "I don't sleep when gossip is in the air."
Cleo muttered something into his hoodie sleeve and sat down in one of the fold-out chairs by the fire, trying not to blush. Riz followed, brushing past Bea with a dry, "We're dating, not hiding a war crime."
"Oh, please." Cal didn't look up from the skillet. "You guys *have* been a slow-burn fanfiction for two years. The rest of us just want credit for suffering through the build-up."
"Honestly, it's been exhausting," Bea said dramatically. "All the longing glances. The petty rivalry. The sexual tension you could cut with a protractor."
Riz snorted into his coffee. "You guys are so dramatic."
"Are we?" Arman chimed in from the folding table, stirring powdered cocoa. "Because *someone* definitely kissed *someone else* in front of the whole campfire like it was the climax of a rom-com."
Cleo, mid-sip, choked. "That was *his* idea."
Riz just smiled, smug. "And you loved it."
Cleo narrowed his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."
"I have the photographic evidence of your smile, *Cleonardo.*"
The entire circle broke into laughter.
"Wait, you guys have nicknames now?" Bea gasped. "Oh my god, *do you cuddle?* Tell me everything."
"Please don't," Cleo said flatly.
"I bet Cleo's the little spoon," Arman added.
"You *wish,*" Riz muttered, leaning his head onto Cleo's shoulder with a grin. "Cleo clings like a backpack in his sleep."
"I do *not.*" Cleo tried to push him off, but Riz didn't budge.
Bea held up her phone, pretending to film. "Say it again, Riz. Say something soft and boyfriend-y."
Riz turned without missing a beat. "Cleo's the best thing that's ever happened to me and his sleepy morning voice is my favorite sound."
A chorus of groans and whistles followed.
Cleo just stared at the fire, red-faced. "...You're enjoying this too much."
"You make it easy," Riz said, threading their fingers together beneath the edge of the chair.
A brief silence settled around the fire, the good kind—the kind full of smiles hidden behind mugs and warmth that went deeper than the firewood. The teasing eased, replaced by a more genuine energy.
"You guys are good together," Bea said quietly, offering them both a small smile. "Like... it makes sense now."
Cleo looked over at Riz, who was already smiling at him like he always did when no one was looking. But this time—this morning—everyone was looking. And for once, Cleo didn't care.
No
He leaned over and kissed Riz on the temple.
Bea squealed. "I AM LIVING."
Cal dropped a pancake.
Arman fake-fainted off his stool.
And in the middle of it all, Cleo laughed—openly, unguardedly—and finally, fully, let himself fall.
---
By late morning, the campsite buzzed with the slow hum of departure.
Coolers snapped shut, tents collapsed in awkward bundles, and half the group had started fighting with bungee cords and trunk space. Sleeping bags were rolled like burritos and tossed into cars. Someone played a mellow acoustic playlist on their phone, blending with the birdsong and soft crunch of feet on pine needles.
Cleo and Riz stayed back, sitting on the log bench by the firepit, sipping the last of their coffee. Their bags were packed. The fire had died to ash.
"I don't want to go back yet," Riz said softly, leaning against Cleo's side.
"I know," Cleo murmured, resting his chin on Riz's head. "Feels like... real life is gonna hit fast."
"Think we'll still be like this when it does?" Riz asked, voice quiet, like the trees might overhear.
Cleo turned to him, their knees bumping. "You mean stupidly in love and too proud to admit we're soft?"
Riz smiled. "Exactly."
Cleo's fingers found Riz's hand again. It was becoming a habit, this natural gravity toward each other. "Then yeah. I think we will."
Around them, friends waved goodbyes, loading up their cars. Cal was arguing with Arman about the GPS route. Bea was already in the driver's seat of her tiny hatchback, window rolled down, sunglasses on.
"Hey, lovebirds!" she called. "You two riding together?"
"Yeah," Cleo called back.
Riz glanced up at him. "We are?"
"You think I'm letting you drive home alone after finally getting you to myself?"
Riz beamed, chest warm. "Hopeless romantic."
Cleo stood and held out a hand. "Only for you."
Riz took it.
They walked to the truck slowly, the kind of pace that said *I don't want this to be over yet.* Cleo opened the passenger door for Riz, who smirked and slid in without protest.
Before he rounded the front of the truck, Cleo turned back to the clearing—now quieter, emptier. The firepit. The trail. The patch of forest where he and Riz had kissed under the stars.
Everything looked different now.
Or maybe *he* was different.
Riz rolled down the window. "You good?"
Cleo looked at him and smiled, easy and real. "Yeah. I'm good."
As they pulled away from the campsite, music low, windows down, and the scent of pine still clinging to their clothes, Riz reached over and rested his hand on Cleo's knee.
The world stretched wide ahead of them.
And somewhere in the quiet hum of the road, their phones buzzed with matching calls—two names lighting up in sync.
**Mom.**