On the Verge of Coming Out
by Rundownhilly
The first time Scott and Chad met, it was at the base of Mount San Jacinto--both fumbling with their gear in the early morning chill. Scott wore a faded green windbreaker and boots that had seen too many miles; Chad had a titanium coffee press clipped to his pack and a grin that made Scott forget how to breathe.
They hiked together that day, then camped under a sky so clear it felt like the stars were eavesdropping. By the time the fire had burned down to embers, baby-faced Chad had leaned in and kissed raven-haired Scott—tentative, like testing the wind before a climb. Scott kissed back, and the world didn’t end. It just got quieter, more honest.
Fast forward…
They’d been seeing each other for months now. Weekends were spent in the wild: Joshua Tree, Big Sur, the Angeles Crest. They’d learned each other’s rhythms—how Chad hummed when he filtered water, how Scott always took his boots off before setting up the tent, like it was sacred ground.
But the silence between them wasn’t always peaceful. Back in the city, they lived in separate apartments, told their families they were “just friends,” and dodged questions about dating. Chad’s parents were devout Baptists in Bakersfield. Scott’s mom still asked if he’d met any “nice girls” at work.
One night, camped near Lake Arrowhead, they sat on a log watching the moon ripple across the water. Chad broke the silence first.
“I keep thinking about telling my sister,” he said. “She’s the only one who might understand.”
Scott nodded. “I’ve drafted the text to my brother like ten times. Never sent it.”
They didn’t speak for a while. The fire crackled. A coyote howled in the distance.
“I hate feeling like I’m two people,” baby-faced Chad said finally. “The one out here with you, and the one back there pretending.”
raven-haired Scott reached for his hand. “Then let’s stop pretending.”
They made a plan. Not just to come out, but to come forward. They’d start with the people most likely to listen—Chad’s sister, Scott’s cousin. They’d write letters if words failed. They’d move in together, somewhere near the mountains, where the air was clean and the world felt wide.
They knew it wouldn’t be easy. There’d be awkward dinners, maybe slammed doors. But they also knew the trail ahead was theirs to choose.
That weekend, they hiked to a ridge overlooking the valley. Scott took off his boots, stood barefoot on the rock, and smiled.
“This,” he said, “feels like the beginning.”
The sun filtered through the canopy in golden shards, dappling the narrow trail as Scott and Chad hiked deeper into the forest. Their packs were light, their steps buoyed by adrenaline and something more fragile—hope. They’d chosen this trail not for its views, but for its privacy. No reception, no interruptions. Just miles of pine and silence to talk about the thing they’d been avoiding for months.
Coming out.
Chad kicked a pinecone off the path after descending the rocks. “I think I’ll tell my mom first. She’ll cry, but she won’t hate me.”
Scott nodded, brushing sweat from his brow. “My dad’ll probably go quiet. Then ask if it’s a phase. But I’m done hiding.”
They stopped at a ridge, the valley below stretching like a green quilt. baby-faced Chad reached for raven-haired Scott’s hand, briefly, like a secret handshake. “We’re doing this together, right?”
“Together,” Scott said, squeezing back.
They kept walking, lost in imagined conversations, rehearsed reactions, the weight of years spent pretending. So lost, in fact, that they missed the fork in the trail. Missed the faded marker. Missed the turn that would’ve led them back to the parking lot.
Hours passed. The sun dipped low. Their feet began to ache, boots pressing into swollen soles. The forest grew thicker, the trail less defined. Panic flickered, but neither wanted to admit it.
“I think we’re lost,” Chad finally said. There was a fear in him that he wouldn’t mention to Scott. A fear that a Higher Power disapproved of their sexual choices in life .,, and now it had decided to kill them as a punishment. Kill them in a way that even their bodies wouldn’t be found for weeks … months … years!
Scott exhaled. “Yeah. I think we are.”
They stumbled upon a creek, its water clear and cold, winding like a lifeline through the underbrush. Without a word, they dropped their packs, sat on a mossy rock, and began unlacing their boots.
Steam rose faintly as they peeled off their socks. The smell hit them both like a punch—sweat, leather, trail grime. Chad gagged theatrically. “Oh my god, raven-haired Scott. Your feet smell like betrayal.”
Scott laughed, half-delirious. “Yours smell like regret and cheese.”
They dunked their feet into the creek, sighing as the chill numbed the soreness. Silence settled between them, not awkward, but reverent.
Chad looked over. “You still love me, even after this?”
Scott grinned. “I think I love you more. Anyone who can smell my feet and still want to kiss me is either insane or in love.”
Baby-faced Chad leaned in, brushing his lips against Scott’s temple. “Let’s be both.”
That night, they built a fire from damp twigs and shared a granola bar like it was a feast. They didn’t find the trail until morning, but by then, something else had been found—something deeper than direction. A love that could survive sweat, silence, and the long walk toward truth.
They made love and slept. It was a Public Department Works employee … an affable thirty-year-old named Phil. A ranger who discovered them at dawn.
The pre-morning light was peeking through the surrounding trees, casting a shaft of luminescence on a baby-faced youth of about nineteen sleeping on the ground. Yes, Chad lay peacefully asleep. Smiling warmly, ranger took a step towards him. The handsome dark-haired young man sleeping beside babyface (with his arms protectively around the younger boy) was about twenty-two years of age. To Phil hey both looked unbelievably adorable all scooched up and spooning like that.
The park ranger, almost unable to control himself, used his fingers to play with the sleeping blond youth's bare feet and toes. He tenderly massaged, kneaded and caressed them. The public works department employee was an ardent foot fetishist you see, and both sleeping youths had perfect toes and soles that all but begged to be fondled. Ranger Phil even leaned down and took the handsome baby-faced boy's big toe into his mouth, sucking on it as if it were the most delicious lollypop on this Earth or any other. He then took the time to lean over and tenderly plant soft kiss on Scott’s bare toes one by one. The park ranger even licked Chad’s right sole. Neither young man awoke during this, but they both unconsciously mumbled and smiled, fidgeting only slightly.
Ranger Phil remained kneeling over the sleeping youths after sucking every drop of sweat from their digits. He gazed tenderly at Chad … entranced by his tawny-blonde head resting on the soft earth beside his older friend. The dark-haired Scott was also still sound asleep and too handsome for words. Ranger Phil stopped, his gaze gently sweeping over the baby-faced boy and the dark-haired youth. The Public Works Department employee's eyes took in Phil's broad, ruddy-complected cheek and the dark lashes closed in slumber, before focusing on Chad again.
After he had his fill of just watching them, the Public Works Department employee dropped a light kiss on the temples of both the baby-faced Chad and handsome Scott. But neither young man was aware that they'd been kissed, being that they were both still deeply unconscious at this time.
Later that morning, after introductions and explainations had been made, the Public Works Department ranger would watch as a wide-awake Chad--dressed in nothing but a blue button up--stood barefooted on the edge of a creek. The raven-haired young man had big, beautiful feet. So did his baby-faced blond lover. How he wanted to just take some time off work and just spend a weekend worshipping their tender tootsies. He wouldn’t tell the two handsome lost strangers this of course. They hadn't even been aware pf the tender, intimate foot treatment he'd bestowed upon their slumbering forms the night before.
With a hearty laugh and a mischievious twinkle in his eye, Ranger Phil offered to help the two youths find their way back to their car. He was so confident in his sense of direction that he’d leave his own jeep behind just to escort a grateful Scott and Chad safely back to their own vehicle on foot.
To Be Continued