The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

Light Me Up


The campfire flickered orange and gold across Khun’s face, bathing him in a wash of light and warmth. He was beautiful. Bam knew he was beautiful, smiling that crooked, smug grin as he pressed Bam’s stick back into his hand, a toasted marshmallow on the end.

“Like that, Bam.”

He always held Bam’s name so warmly in his mouth, like something precious, even when he was scolding. He wasn’t scolding now, and the brush of his hand against Bam’s left tingles in its wake.

Rak looked between them with a hmph. “Where’s mine, blue turtle?”

“Yeah, yeah, coming, gator” Khun answered with an easy grin, rolling his eyes and smiling at Bam.

Something warm had settled in Bam’s stomach and it wasn’t the snacks, but he dutifully ate it, sticky on his fingers, then started to lick up the mess behind.

Khun stared at him, suddenly quiet.

Bam hesitated, not sure what he’d done wrong, but Khun just blinked and looked back at the marshmallow he was toasting for Rak. Bam licked his fingers again, once, was surprised to see Khun staring from the corner of his eyes. He continued then, certain finally of what was drawing that unexpected intensity and reveled a little in the moment of attention, less certain of why he felt too heated and lightheaded but not wanting it to stop.

“Blue turtle! My marshmallow!”

Khun sighed and grumbled, tore his gaze away and handed over the over-crisped treat.

“Turtles should just get it over with,” Rak muttered to himself as he poked at it and shook his head at Khun.

Bam was done eating and cleaning himself up and he shouldn’t feel at all disappointed, then Khun bumped shoulders with him and sat beside him, and Bam couldn’t say he was disappointed at all.


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