Under the Stars: A Camping Confession

Here's the thing about agreeing to share a tent with your best friend's newly single brother on a group camping trip: it sounds innocent enough until you're lying six inches apart in the dark, listening to him breathe, wondering if he can hear your heart trying to escape your chest.

My name's Drew. I'm twenty-nine, chronically single, and apparently incapable of saying no when my best friend Maya asks me for a favor. Even when that favor involves spending three days in the wilderness with her older brother Liam, who I've been secretly in love with since I was nineteen years old.

Ten years. Ten years of watching him date other people, hearing about his relationships through Maya, pretending I was happy for him. Ten years of telling myself to get over it because he was straight and I needed to move on.

Spoiler: I did not move on.

The camping trip was Maya's idea. A "reconnecting with nature" thing for her friend group—about eight of us in total, scattered across four tents in a campsite three hours from the city. Originally, Liam wasn't supposed to come. But his girlfriend had dumped him two weeks ago, and Maya didn't want him sitting alone in his apartment "spiraling," so she invited him last minute.

Which meant the tent arrangements had to be reshuffled. Which meant, somehow, I ended up as Liam's tentmate.

"You're the only one who doesn't have a partner coming," Maya explained on the phone, like this was a perfectly reasonable request. "And Liam's too big to share with anyone else. You're skinny. You'll fit."

"I'm not skinny. I'm lean."

"Whatever. Please? He needs this. He's been a mess since Rachel left."

I wanted to ask why she couldn't share with her own brother, but I knew the answer: she was bringing her boyfriend. And I was, as always, pathetically available.

"Fine. But if he snores, I'm sleeping in the car."

"You're the best. Love you."

Love you too, I thought. Even though you're basically torturing me.

🏕️ Pinewood Campground We arrived Friday afternoon. The campsite was beautiful—old-growth trees, a creek running nearby, the kind of views that make you understand why people become nature photographers. I'd been camping before, but never somewhere this remote. Cell service was nonexistent. The nearest town was forty minutes away. We were genuinely off the grid.

Liam was quieter than usual. I'd known him long enough to recognize the signs of heartbreak: the forced smiles, the way he disappeared into his own head mid-conversation, the beer he opened before the tents were even set up.

"Thanks for sharing with me," he said as we assembled our tent. His tent, technically—a nice four-person job that was definitely overkill for two people but at least meant we wouldn't be on top of each other. "I know it's awkward."

"It's not awkward."

"Drew. I'm your best friend's sad, recently dumped brother. It's at least a little awkward."

I laughed despite myself.

"Okay. Maybe a little. But it's fine. We've known each other for ten years. We can survive three nights in a tent."

"You sound confident."

"I'm faking it. Internally I'm panicking."

He grinned. The first real smile I'd seen from him all day.

"At least you're honest."

The first day was fine. We hiked as a group, ate burgers around the campfire, drank too much cheap beer. Liam seemed to relax as the day went on, the tension in his shoulders slowly unwinding. He sat next to me at dinner, our knees occasionally touching, and I tried very hard not to read anything into it.

By the time we crawled into the tent that night, I was exhausted enough that I thought I might actually be able to sleep without overthinking the situation.

I was wrong.

The tent was dark. Liam was on his back, his sleeping bag rustling as he tried to get comfortable. I was on my side, facing away from him, hyperaware of every inch of space between us.

"You awake?" His voice was quiet. Almost hesitant.

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you something weird?"

"How weird?"

"Medium weird."

"Go for it."

A pause. Then: "Why are you single?"

I turned over to face him, even though I couldn't see much in the darkness.

"That's your question?"

"You're a good guy. Funny. Nice. Good-looking—Maya's friends are always talking about how cute you are, by the way. So why hasn't anyone locked you down?"

I didn't know how to answer that. The honest answer—because I've been in love with you for a decade and no one else measures up—was obviously off the table.

"I don't know. Haven't found the right person, I guess."

"Have you been looking?"

"Sometimes. Not really. I've dated, but nothing ever sticks."

"Why not?"

"They're never... I don't know. There's always something missing."

"Like what?"

Like they're not you. Like they don't make me laugh the way you do. Like they don't look at me and see everything I'm trying to hide.

"I don't know how to explain it. A spark, maybe. Something that makes me feel like I could spend my whole life with them and not get bored."

"That sounds lonely."

"Sometimes it is."

We lay there in silence for a while. Outside, I could hear the creek, the wind in the trees, someone snoring in a nearby tent. Inside, just our breathing. In and out. Close enough to touch if either of us reached across.

"I thought I had that with Rachel," he said finally. "That spark. Turns out I was wrong."

"What happened?"

"She said I was emotionally unavailable. That I was always holding something back."

"Were you?"

"Probably. I don't know. There's stuff I've never told anyone. Stuff I've been afraid to even think about. And the longer you hide something, the harder it gets to let it out."

"I know what you mean."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

More silence. Then:

"Goodnight, Drew."

"Goodnight, Liam."

I didn't sleep for hours.

📅 Day Two The second day, we split off from the group. Everyone else wanted to try the harder trail, but my knee had been acting up, so I opted for the easier loop around the lake. Liam volunteered to stay with me.

"You don't have to babysit me," I told him.

"I'm not babysitting. I'm not in the mood for a six-mile uphill hike. This way I have an excuse."

So we walked. Just the two of us, alone in the woods, surrounded by nothing but nature and the questions from the night before still hanging in the air.

We talked about small things first. His job. My job. Maya's upcoming wedding that neither of us was looking forward to because of all the family drama it would involve. But eventually, we circled back to bigger things.

"Can I ask you something else?" He stopped walking, turning to face me. "And you have to promise to be honest."

"That depends on what it is."

"Have you ever been in love? Really in love, not just dating someone because it was convenient?"

My heart started pounding.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because you always dodge the question. Every time Maya asks, every time anyone brings up your love life, you change the subject. And I've been wondering about it for years."

"Years?"

"Years, Drew. I notice more than you think I do."

I looked away. At the trees. At the lake glinting through the branches. Anywhere but at him.

"Yes. I've been in love."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. That's the problem. Nothing ever happened because it couldn't. Because the person didn't see me that way, and I was too scared to find out for sure."

"Is that why you're still single? Because you're still in love with them?"

I should have lied. Should have said no, said it was ancient history, said I'd moved on. But something about standing there in the middle of the woods with him, with no one else around, made the truth spill out before I could stop it.

"Yes."

"Who is it?"

Silence. Long enough that I could hear my own heartbeat.

"Liam..."

"Who is it, Drew?"

I looked at him. At his face. At the expression there—somewhere between curious and terrified and something else I couldn't name.

"You really don't know?"

His breath caught. Something shifted in his eyes.

"I thought... I wondered... but you never..."

"Because you're straight. Because you're Maya's brother. Because telling you would ruin everything."

"Drew."

"Don't. Please. Don't make this weird. I've spent ten years keeping this to myself, and I just need you to pretend you didn't hear it and let me—"

He kissed me.

In the middle of my panicked rambling, he stepped forward, grabbed my face, and kissed me like he'd been waiting ten years too.

I don't know how long we stood there. Time stopped making sense. All I knew was his mouth on mine, his hands on my face, the shocked noise I made before my brain caught up and I started kissing him back.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.

"What the hell was that?"

"What I've been too scared to do for years."

"You've been—but you're—"

"Straight? I thought so too. For a long time. But then you came into my sister's life, and I started noticing things. The way I felt when you laughed. The way I couldn't stop looking at you. The way I compared every girlfriend I ever had to you and they all came up short."

"Liam."

"That's what Rachel meant. About me holding something back. I was in love with someone else the whole time. Someone I thought I could never have because I'd convinced myself it was impossible."

"You've been in love with me."

"For years. And I've been hiding it because I didn't know how to deal with it. Because admitting it meant admitting things about myself I wasn't ready to face."

"And now?"

"Now I'm standing in the woods with the man I love, and I just kissed him, and if you don't say something soon I'm going to assume I've made a terrible mistake."

I kissed him again. Softer this time. Taking my time. Trying to make up for ten years of missed opportunities in a single moment.

"Not a mistake. Definitely not a mistake."

We didn't go back to the campsite right away. We found a spot by the lake, sat on a fallen log, and talked. Really talked. About all the things we'd been holding back. About the confusion and the fear and the way we'd both convinced ourselves the other person could never feel the same.

"I thought you saw me as Maya's annoying older brother," he admitted. "Nothing more."

"I thought you saw me as Maya's gay friend. The harmless one you didn't have to worry about."

"You were never harmless. I spent a lot of energy pretending I didn't notice how not-harmless you were."

"Same."

"We're idiots."

"Complete idiots."

He laughed. I laughed. And then we were kissing again, because apparently ten years of restraint meant we had a lot of catching up to do.

By the time we made it back to camp, the sun was setting and everyone was already starting dinner. Maya took one look at us and narrowed her eyes.

"You two are acting weird. What happened?"

Liam looked at me. I looked at him.

"Nothing. Just a nice hike."

She didn't believe us. But she also didn't push. Not then, anyway.

🌙 Night Two That night, in the tent, everything was different.

We lay facing each other, close enough that our breath mingled. His hand found mine in the darkness. Our fingers intertwined.

"I'm scared," he whispered.

"Of what?"

"Of this. Of what it means. Of telling people."

"We don't have to tell anyone yet. We can take our time."

"I want to. Eventually. I'm just... I've spent my whole life thinking I was one thing, and now I'm realizing I'm something else, and it's a lot to process."

"I know. And I'm not going anywhere. We can figure this out together."

He moved closer. Close enough that our foreheads touched.

"I want to do more than hold hands. Is that okay?"

"It's more than okay."

What followed was clumsy and awkward and absolutely perfect. We touched each other in the darkness, learning the shapes of bodies we'd only imagined. He was nervous—shaking a little—and I tried to be patient, to show him that this wasn't something to be afraid of.

When he finally wrapped his hand around me, I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning loud enough to wake the entire campsite. When I returned the favor, the sound he made—low and desperate and surprised—was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard.

We didn't go further that night. It was enough just to touch, just to be touched. To know that this was real and not another one of the countless dreams I'd had about him.

Afterward, we lay tangled together in his sleeping bag, which was bigger than mine. His arm was around me. My head was on his chest. I could hear his heart still pounding.

"That was..."

"Yeah."

"I've never... with a guy..."

"I know."

"But it felt right. More right than anything I've done in years."

"I'm glad."

"I love you, Drew. I should have said it years ago. I love you."

I kissed his chest. The spot right over his heart.

"I love you too. Have since the day we met. Always will."

⏳ Six Months Later We told Maya a month after the camping trip. She cried. Then she punched Liam's arm for keeping secrets. Then she hugged us both and demanded to know every detail of how it happened.

We told his parents three months in. His mom needed some time, but she came around. His dad shrugged and said he'd always known Liam was "different" but figured it wasn't his place to say anything.

We moved in together after six months. A small apartment in the city, halfway between his job and mine. We argued about dishes and whose turn it was to take out the trash and whether to get a cat or a dog. We had sex in every room, sometimes twice. We learned to fight fair and make up fast.

And every night, when we lay in bed together—no longer in a tent, but still close enough to touch—I thought about how close I'd come to never saying anything. To spending the rest of my life alone because I was too scared to take a risk.

The camping trip had been Maya's idea. But it had been our beginning.

Under the stars. In the woods. In a tent too small for two people who'd been keeping their distance for ten years.

Sometimes the best things happen when you stop running. When you let yourself be found.

I'm glad he found me. I'm glad I finally let him.

And I'm never sleeping in a tent without him again.