The Lake

It was a beautiful day to go to the lake. Kyle sat grinning in the passenger seat while his father cruised toward their destination. Today is the day I love spending, Kyle thought to himself. He couldn't help the grin that slowly was overtaking his once placid face.

"What are you smiling about, son?"

"Nothing. Just excited for the lake," Kyle slowly admitted, as he glanced over at his father. The man seemed to be hiding his own beam, but couldn't help letting it escape from his deep, dark eyes.

Kyle's father was an attractive man and Kyle admired this. Everyone had said Kyle had looked just like him, which often made his heart flutter. Kyle snuck another look at his old man.

Dave was the definition of masculine father. His tall exterior, complete with his sturdy frame was something to admire. His chest was wide and heavily spattered with dark chest hair. Kyle was often distracted by it. It was true, he was looking more and more like him by the year. He was twenty one, and resembled his father a great deal.

And today will be the day I will see, for sure, if I am just like him, Kyle thought to himself.

The car pulled up to their usual, secluded spot where the two had come every summer. They would peel out of the car, as usual, talking about school, work, etc. They would unload their light belongings and set up the tent; Dave with his sturdy arms and legs that beamed with sweat would tie and hammer in the tent stakes while Kyle would begin organizing the unloaded luggage. The commotion would finally settle and the two would cheer two beers as they gazed out over the lake as the sun glistened in the background.

"How have you been, Dad?"

"I've been getting on. Missing you at school. Working. Thinking about things..."

Kyle looked at the jawline of his father as he studied the water and swirled his beer slowly. His father had been through a lot, as had Kyle. Their mother had passed when Kyle was young. He was too young to remember her, but instantly became fascinated with boding with his Father, who reciprocated in her death. The two lived a quiet life together, and Kyle grew and completed school and adolescence with ease. When the time came for Kyle to leave for college, his father was proud yet apprehensive to let him go. His father remembered well the experiences and adventures of college; the thrill of coming into manhood around others who are developing to find a spot for themselves in the world. But to keep a balance in both of their lives, Dave and Kyle always reconvened in the summer at the lake.

"I'm glad we're here. I feel like I've really needed a break from everything."

Kyle had never quite understood his fascination for his father, be it his approval or affection. Kyle always felt an instilled need and desire for Dave's stoic nod of father-son pride. He was a stern man, but Kyle always felts an immense bond between the two.

I just want this trip so much.

Kyle began to swirl his beer, emulating his elder. A twing on his chest made him feel like a developing younger self, constantly comparing his demeanor and body to his old man's. The twing on his young chest made him realize that a small bug had landed there. He swatted at the bug, feeling its abrupt departure from his own mild patch of fur. He smiled and dug his hand into his own, looking back at his father's. I wish I had as much as he does. It looks so-

His father began to chuckle as he caught Kyle's self massage, sending Kyle into a small state of embarrassed shock. He had immediately stopped the comparison rub but it had been too late; His father had seen the whole admiration and was now chuckling.

"What?" his voice sneaked with a subtle hint of awkwardness. His father studied him and began pensively rubbing his own chest as he finished up his deep chuckle.

"You'll get some more in time, bud."

This comment was unexpected but made Kyle's whole body pulse and tingle with excitement. He actually didn't care. He saw what I was doing... He saw me thinking and he didn't care!

Kyle didn't want his thoughts to proceed him, let alone send him into a crazy jump into action. After all, how did Kyle really know what his father was thinking? Was his father thinking what he was thinking? Or was Kyle merely forcing his own perceptions on the course of events between him and his phlegmatic old man.

There had been many instances of him and his father having awkward yet exhilarating instances. These moments were more than anything; more than flirting, living, chatting, laughing, anything at hand. They made his body pulse, his arms tingle, his hair stand up, his breath quicken. Everything felt on fire; everything felt aroused and thrilled. It was strong. It was electric.

It's sexual.

Kyle snapped out of the trance. The though often made him feel less. It made him feel weird. Embarrassed. Alone.

Who the FUCK thinks like this. Stop it. Kyle mentally abused himself. He refused to let his thoughts cloud the reality of a trip between him and his father. It couldn't be reciprocated if it wasn't anything at all. Kyle needed to keep himself in line.

But what if he thinks it too.

"You're quite the man... It'll come in, son. Soon. It did when I was around your age..."

Kyle flopped backwards in a tired thrill of agony and confusion. What WAS this. What would happen...