Camo Hat • Chapter Ten
by Sean Reid Scott
Posted: in the before time :: Approx. 2,800 words
T WAS A PRETTY BIG CROWD down at Waterfront Park. “The Bite” attracted thousands of people every year, and this year looked like it would be a record-setter. The hot sun, surrounded only by vivid blue sky, beat down on the masses as they moved from booth to booth, sampling culinary wares from restaurants all over the metroplex.
And then there was the wine garden. After we had gotten our fill of gourmet food, Cameron, Evan, Maya and I made our way into the roped-off area that was only open to the above-21 crowd. “Good think you guys took MAX down here,” Cam said to Evan and me. “You don’t have to worry about driving home.”
I smiled. “Yeah. Which one of you is going to be the designated driver?” I asked, looking at Cam and Maya.
The two of them looked at each other and simultaneously pointed at each other. The four of us burst out laughing.
“I think I can hold my alcohol,” Cam smiled. “Got a pretty good metabolism, and I think I’ll be okay.” Visions of that night he spent at my place-- totally inebriated out of his mind-- filled my mind. I didn’t get hung up about it, though. I looked at Maya and our eyes met. I got the impression that she knew I wanted her to keep an eye on the muscle giant. She seemed to understand, so I put my concerns at ease.
We started sampling. Man, they had some good wines there.
And you know, there’s something about spending a summer afternoon at a place like this. I mean, the tank-tops, muscle shirts and tight-fitting T-shirts were everywhere. This city must certainly have a higher ratio of bodybuilders than the general population. Dunno, but this August Sunday was sure a feast for my eyes. And of course, walking around with Cameron, it just made you want to cry-- seeing all of these bodybuilders, and their various reactions to Cam’s towering body. Sure, there were a few guys who came close to offering the build Cam has-- but not very close. Certainly none of them had Cam’s height or fantastic looks. Most, however, upon seeing Cam, just stared. You could see the envy ooze out of their pores.
And no wonder. Cameron’s broad shoulders, although definitely tortured to extreme measurements, had a genetic basis that no one could duplicate-- no matter how hard you worked ‘em. This was true with all of his body parts, but when you first saw Cam, it was his four-lane-wide shoulders that first grabbed you-- especially when he wore that skimpy tank top he had on today.
I don’t know, I suppose I could go on and on about his gorilla-sized lats, his pectorals that looked like they were mock-ups of some kind of Continental Plate display in a science museum, his arms that looked like they had just been harvested out of a watermelon patch, his tightly packed abs on that waistline that tapered to a tiny isthmus between two enormous land masses, or his gigantic legs that constantly fought against his shorts (and provided a cock-hardening ripple show when they did). Yeah, I could go on and on about all of this, but then, we’d be here all day and you wouldn’t get to find out what happened next. So, I’ll move on.
We were sitting at a table, in the shade, enjoying a sample of Cabernet. The wall-to-wall crowd that filled most of The Bite was a little lest dense in the wine garden, and that was nice. A little more elbow room never hurt anyone.
In from the throng on the other side of the rope emerged three guys who, in my estimation, were very, very hot. The biggest guy-- probably just under six feet tall, was gorgeous-- and totally stacked. (No, these were not the thugs who jumped Cam earlier.) He had short-cropped hair, and a body that just wouldn’t quit. He wore a lavender tank top that showed off everything. He had the shoulders and arms of a true bodybuilder, bulging out and blinding everyone with their size and shape. And his pecs, under that skimpy tank top, just begged to be felt out. Thick and bulbous, they looked like they held two huge nipples. Yeah, this guy was totally above the curve. I think I even saw Cam give him a second look. But of course, Lavender didn’t hold a candle to my best friend.
The second guy was a little taller than the first guy, but he looked a little leaner. Except for his chest. Holy mother of gawd, his chest was thick. His hair was a little longer, and darker. He wore a green sleeveless muscle shirt. Man, the division between his deltoids and his triceps was incredible! And that thick, bulbous chest was mesmerizing. There was no doubt that both of these two guys had done more than his fair share winning bodybuilding trophies up on stage.
The third guy was younger. In fact, I wondered how he got past the goons at the gate who checked for I. D. to get into the wine garden. Dunno. But he looked like the perfect protege of these two guys. His youth was the only thing holding him back. But as I admired him, I didn’t view his youth as a liability. No, he was drop-dead cute, and I could easily fantasize him in the locker room of his high school, dominating the school’s all-star quarterback, or maybe schooling the captain of the wrestling team in some power moves. Of course, he probably was the all-star quarterback and the wrestling captain. Shit, he had to-die-for eyes. Dark eyebrows and long, thick eyelashes. Man, if he had an agent, he’d be raking in heavy dollars in a modeling career. His young muscles were sickeningly adorable. That thick neck was killer-- and his cute ears stuck out in a way that made me melt. You could tell he was under the tutelage of the two muscle gods who accompanied him, and I had no doubt that he had undergone some heavy transformation in their care.
It was only because Cameron was relaxing in a corner of the garden that all eyes turned to the three as they made their way by the booths, sampling a few wines as they went. After the initial sizing up, Cam seemed to dismiss the three guys altogether. He certainly didn’t need to get up and hog the limelight-- although he easily could have if he wanted to. No, he was secure.
We continued to relax, and occasionally I directed my view back to the three guys. Yeah, I’ll admit that I did a little fantasizing about the three of them meeting Cam, and what kind of orgy scene might ensue if they ever got to be really familiar with each other. My, what a perverted mind I have! More immediately, though, I wondered what the reaction of these three would be when they saw Cam. Lavender Tank Top seemed so totally confident, yet not cocky. In fact, none of them (save, maybe the younger gorgeous guy) seemed to be aware of the scores of eyes that were clued to them. I wondered if they’d hold it together when they saw Cam, or if, like so many bodybuilders before them, they would show obvious signs of blatant admiration and envy.
I wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. As they made their way around the wine booths, they moved closer and closer to us. It would only be a matter of minutes before they would see Cam.
Gorgeous-- his youthful exuberance unable to prevent him from surveying the admiring crowd-- was the first to spot him. I saw him do a double-take.
I smirked to myself.
Even seated at our table, Cameron’s unbelievable physique was impossible to pass over.
Then, a third look. Get this-- he even bumped into Green Muscle Shirt because he was so distracted.
Cam was busy talking to Maya.
When Muscle Shirt regained his balance (after almost spilling his glass of wine from the impact with Gorgeous), he looked over at what had caused the kid to falter. He also gave a double-take, but he was a little more subtle about it.
My stomach tightened into a loose knot, enjoying how my best friend caused even the most robust specimens of virile, muscular manhood to take pause.
It took repeated glances by Gorgeous and Muscle Shirt before Lavender finally woke up to the magnet in the corner of the wine garden. And a magnet for muscle he indeed was. As if controlled by radio waves that emanated from Cam’s physique, the three hunks lazily moved from booth to booth, through the thin crowd, to a vector that ultimately led them to position themselves, conveniently, at the table next to us.
Cam didn’t notice.
Evan did in fact seem to register the presence of the three guys. Indeed, I wondered if he wasn’t actually wondering the same thing as me: What would these guys’ reaction be when they were allowed to interact with Cam and see more of his obscenely developed body. I mean, after all, seeing Cam sitting with his elbows propped on a table, while he talked with Maya-- that was very different from seeing him stand erect, allowing himself to be gazed upon in a more full glory.
Again, neither Evan nor I had to wait long to find out. Cameron took a break from his conversation with Maya and glanced over at the guys. They really didn’t seem to register with him, but I know they had to. God, this guy was cool. He took another sip of his wine and said something to Maya again.
The three weren’t making obvious overtures to Cam, but-- maybe it’s my gaydar here, I dunno-- I got the distinct impression they had planted themselves at that particular table for one, and only one, reason.
Of course, cool Cam totally knew what was going on, even though the average observer could never tell. He took some paper garbage that the four of us had generated (napkins, coupons that we had been handed that none of us wanted, other stuff) and stood up. He walked over to a nearby garbage receptacle and tossed the stuff inside. His back was to all of us (the three remaining at our table, and the three guys at the next table), and we were all treated to a delicious display, including-- but not limited to-- his freakishly flaring lats, his Aircraft Carrier shoulders, his tight, taught glutes caressed by his shorts, and his insanely developed hamstrings, capping off two calves that were obviously not naturally occurring (not in the sense of steroids, but in the sense of having to be worked to get that big).
I looked at the three guys, and their mouths were open to varying degrees, depending on youth and self control. All three of them averted their gaze as Cam turned around and returned to stand next to our table.
Cameron talked to Evan, Maya and me for a second, then he glanced over at Lavender. The two met eyes, and there was instant respect between them. It’s funny, when you see a complete stranger, you usually don’t “connect” in this way. But when these two guys made eye contact, there was an immediate camaraderie, as if they were saying to each other (just by their eye contact and a subtle nod made by both of them), “Hey dude, so-- you’re built too, huh? Yeah. Cool.” They both knew what hard work went in to the other’s massive physique. They both knew that they belonged to the same club. But of course there was also another subtle message being sent-- and received. Every bodybuilder, while not necessarily conscious of this, partakes in a little-known-- almost secret-- evaluation process whenever he sees another buff guy. The pressing, although often unconscious, question that must be answered is this: Is this guy better than me?
There was no mistaking how Lavender would answer this question. And of course, Cameron never came across anyone who even came close...
But despite the obvious answer to Every Bodybuilder’s Question (EBQ), Lavender didn’t falter in his confidence. Surely, he wasn’t used to seeing too many guys who were bigger and better-built than himself; but he seemed to not let the EBQ determine his own security.
Green Muscle Shirt seemed to have a similar reaction to Lavender when his eyes were locked by Cam, but when the giant’s gaze moved on to Gorgeous, I thought the kid would pee his pants right then and there. He tried to settle himself by taking a drink of wine, but the result was that the liquid went down the wrong pipe and Gorgeous started coughing and choking, and was only able to regain his composure after repeated pats on the back and inquiries by Muscle Shirt.
Cam looked away as if he hadn’t noticed.
Lavender tried to smooth over the situation by standing up and depositing his own paper waste in the receptacle-- a move that put him in closer proximity to Cameron. Standing maybe five feet apart, it was easy to see that a convergence of muscle was taking place, and yet despite the similarities the two shared, I was very aware of the differences.
Cam was unreal.
“You work out at LA Fitness?” Lavender said, moving closer to Cam.
“Naw, 24 Hour,” Cam answered.
“Oh. I thought I’d seen you at my gym once,” Lavender replied.
I loved how he felt so at ease approaching Cam. There’s something so enabling about being in that club, isn’t there. Of course the idea that someone could mistake Cameron for another bodybuilder was fallacious, but at least it was an accepted “pick-up” line (if you can all it that) amongst bodybuilders.
Thus the two huge men struck up a conversation that lasted quite a few minutes; and despite the lateness of the hour, neither Evan, Maya, myself nor Green Muscle Shirt or Gorgeous at the neighboring table dared suggest that the two musclemen break up their exchange. No, it was clearly off limits to interrupt these two Alpha Males in their social ritual.
But finally Lavender seemed to come to the end of anything intelligent to say. I have to hand it to him; he held his own the whole time, never succumbing to the all-too-familiar routine of wallowing in worship over Cameron’s astounding musclebod. The usual questions of bench weight, biceps measurements, etc., never came-- most likely because Lavender himself was used to being on the receiving end of these queries, and he didn’t want to place himself in the submissive position that those questions obviously connoted.
He did have a really cool air of confidence.
The two came to the end of the conversation by introducing themselves to each other. They shook hands and then politely introduced each other’s contingency as well. I stood to greet the others, and Lavender obliged by introducing himself and his buddies: “Hi, I’m Adam,” he said. “The guy in the green shirt here is Rafe, and this is Drew.”
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