Chapter Text
Chapter 1 (Prologue)
When Duncan was a boy, he’d go camping with his uncle for weeks at a time. They’d spend their summers out in the middle of nowhere, traversing through thickets and greenery, living off the land. He’d learn how to boil drinking water, and discover which mushrooms were safe to eat (and how much trail mix to pack to avoid having to eat said mushrooms). All the things one needed to know in order to live the drifter lifestyle, going from place to place and pitching their tents wherever they wanted.
“Living like real men of the land,” Uncle Arlan would boast, and Duncan would nod, trailing after like a duckling.
They had fun; Duncan was never unhappy, even if he sometimes went hungry or without a shower for a few days. He had his hands to mind the time after all; fishing and making rabbit snares. And they’d sleep under the stars at night, being watched by the moon’s friendly glow. Even now, as a grown man, Duncan looks back on that time with fondness. The kind that makes his chest ache and his eyes burn if he thinks about it all too much.
Because Uncle Arlan is dead now.
He died six years ago, in the middle of August, in a hospital bed.
Fell off his ladder, Duncan was told by a grim faced nurse. The old man had been trying to repaint his shed, well into his sixties, missed a step, and tumbled to the concrete below. He’d spent two days in hospital, with a massive lump on the side of his skull, before promptly flat-lining.
His last words had been, “Can you get me an egg salad, ya little runt?” To Dunk.
“He didn’t even like egg salad.” He’d told the doctors with a pale complexion, “Said it tasted like shite.”
Years passed. Duncan avoided hospitals and refused egg salad at lunchtime. He grew into a man, a big one at that, despite already being quite tall for a teenager. He started work at an art gallery as a security guard, met the gallery's curator, promptly fell head over heels for him, realized he was a giant twat- fell even harder. Worked up the courage to ask him out. Failed. The man did it instead, a day after his embarrassing fumbling. And then they moved into an apartment together.
All the while, he didn’t go camping once.
Not because it was too painful to think about; there was some sadness yes, but he still loves the outdoors. He thinks about the trees and the ozone smell when camping after a fresh rainstorm. He keeps a bag in the hallway closet, filled with hiking gear, which he takes out every other weekend- but he hasn’t been able to stay out there, in the wild, since Arlan passed.
Perhaps from opportunity, or perhaps because he simply doesn’t want to just go out alone.
So when Aerion comes home, a coy grin on his lips and his cheeks pink from the wind, he raises a brow..
“Camping?” he guffaws, standing in the middle of their shared kitchen with wide eyes, “You want to go camping?”
“I just said I did, didn’t I?” Aerion crosses his arms over his chest. He’s still dressed in his clothes from work; a pressed white button up and pair of black slacks that are ironed to perfection despite being worn all day.
There are no wrinkles or blemishes to pick up on. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows and he’s wearing a little pout now, but otherwise, he looks like he’s just walked off one those fancy fashion magazines that he keeps on the coffee table (Duncan doesn’t know what make an outfit fashionable though- he’s sure Aerion could wear a tablecloth and he’d still find him ravishing).
The kitchen island stands between them, covered in what’s going to be their dinner; vegetables chopped on a wooden cutting board and a bit of chicken being seasoned by Duncan. He’s making a stew.
“I just- you’ve never talked about going camping before,” he says while working some spices into the poultry. He’s the cook of the household- Aerion being unable to make so much as a plate of eggs (Duncan suspects his family’s waitstaff have prepared the man’s meals more than he’s even bought his own food), “In fact, I’m pretty sure the times I’ve brought it up, you’ve looked at me like I’m crazy.”
They’ve had the conversation before; date ideas scrapped because of Aerion’s precise mind.
Carnivals are a no. So are couple massages (Aerion had physically recoiled at that one- “I will not have a stranger touch me”) and any ‘double-date’ invitations, that were sent over by Raymun Fossaway and his partner Rowan– Duncan was a bit peeved by this one– were never accepted.
Aerion likes fancy dinners, movies, going to art galas, and most of all; fucking in their king-sized bed and putting a dent in the headboard.
Duncan likes all of these too.
He also likes the idea of taking Aerion camping, although the offer to do so, has never been accepted
When Duncan brought up the suggestion of a weekend in the woods, early into their relationship, Aerion had looked at him as if he was insane; eyebrows raised to his hairline. Pretty pink mouth wide and expression aghast.
He’d pulled out the statistics of missing persons on his cell phone like he had it saved. And then glanced at Duncan suspiciously all through the evening, as if afraid that he would join the number of lost individuals if he were to venture up a mountain with him alone.
“Do you honestly think I would lure you into the woods to murder you?” Duncan had gaped, sitting on the either end of the couch from him since he’d moved all the way to the opposite end.
“No, I don't," Aerion had glared back over the top of his cell phone, “But I don’t imagine any of those poor people imagined their partner would do something to them either.”
He’d finished his sentence ominously, and as much Duncan had wanted to scoff and roll his eyes at the dramatics- he couldn’t. As excuses went, it wasn’t something he could just wave away and dismiss. Especially not when he towered over Aerion and could pick him up like he weighed no more than a feather.
He’d never pressure Aerion. Especially if it was a safety concern.
But it’s been about a year now. Eleven months and four days since they started seeing each other properly, and began using the word ‘boyfriends’.
He’s already anxious in anticipation for their one year anniversary, as Aerion is almost certainly expecting a lot from him; he’s been dropping hints about a new stand mixer he wants and Duncan’s wallet (although fatter since his days as an unemployed teenager with six dollars to his name) is not nearly thick enough to get him a nice one.
For their six months, he’d gone big and purchased a kitten (which fortunately, had been a success) but now he has no idea how to top it.
Syrax, a yellowed tabby, is a little heathen that Aerion treats like royalty. She’s pampered day and night, with tuna and a leather collar and more often than not: gets pets during movie nights, while Duncan sulks beside them.
Aerion adores Syrax. He practically treats her like their child.
Even now, as he strides into the kitchen, back from work, the ball of fur is purring in his arms, “My father was talking to me about Summerhall the other day,” he explains while scratching Syrax on the chin, “There’s a lake up there that we used to go to when we were younger. I think I’d like to visit it.”
“Summerhall,” Duncan hums, eyeing the creature as bits of its fur get a tad too close to the dinner he’s prepping, "Where's that?” he asks while waving the fluff away.
“Down south,” Areion answers, reaching over and grabbing a bit of carrot from the bowl of chopped up veggies, “I think it’s only a four hour drive.” He pops it in his mouth with a crunch and boops Syrax’s nose, “We can carpool with Daeron.”
The chicken feels greasy under Duncan’s fingers as he stills them to give Aerion a frown, “Oh- this is-“ he glances at his diminished pile of vegetables, “This is happening then? You actually want to go camping?”
“It’s not really camping,” Aerion shrugs boredly, “At least, my brother said it was just-“
“No, but, I mean,” Duncan feels himself start to grow excited. He hasn’t been out in the woods since Arlan. Not since the funeral and especially not since he and Aerion began seeing each other- but there’s something sending sparks up his spine at the idea of showing off his skills to his partner. He can’t wait, “Oh, man,” he starts to grin, “This is gonna be so much fun! Is it just us and Daeron then?”
He’s never quite liked Aerion’s older brother (he’s quiet and a bit scary with his big, intense eyes), but he knows the older man is easy to distract, so long as he has a little booze.
They can have a properly romantic weekend getaway, him and Aerion. Kayaking, roasting marshmallows over the fire, skinny dipping and fucking on the beach- like something out of a cheesy summer romance novel- while Daeron slumbers away in a sleeping bag.
“Well, I’ll have to check,” Aerion leans in, letting Syrax go so he can meander into Duncan’s space. The feline jumps onto the floor and curls its tail around his ankle. Syrax is a lanky kitty and as much as Duncan is clumsy, he somehow doesn’t trip over her (although he definitely comes close) as she scampers into the living room.
“Ring him,” Duncan pleads, resting his chin on Aerion’s forehead as they mold together. Almost like magnets; as if their hips are linked and have a natural pull to slot into each other’s divots. They’re a bit like opposites (they attract after all, don’t they?) since Duncan’s tall and broad, and runs cold- while Aerion is thin and short and runs so hot that Dunk worries at times that he’ll melt.
“Fine,” Aerion pokes him in the chest, burning hot finger pressing into the t-shirt's cloth, “But- does that mean you’ll go?”
“O’course, I’ll go!” Duncan grins, squeezing the other’s middle, “I haven’t been out in the wild, for a long while. I could use the fresh air.”
“Even though we won’t be alone?” Aerion goes on, sliding his phone out, fingers moving across the screen, “I know you don’t really get along with my family-“
“I’ll be fine,” Duncan cuts him off, even though that’s a bold-faced lie.
He’s never gotten along with his boyfriend’s relatives. He’s friendly enough with his siblings;
Aerion’s youngest brother Aegon is funny and they’ve spent a good portion of their time together roughhousing and gorging on holiday foods to get-togethers. Duncan would even say little Egg is a friend.
Daeron and he are on alright terms; they’re fine sitting in silence together.
Aemon gave him a lemon cake once which was nice.
And his sisters, Rhae and Daella both think he looks like Bigfoot, so they’ll hoot and holler when he shows up (he doesn’t really know if they’re mocking him, but they smile when they do it, so he won’t complain).
And he likes Aerion’s Uncle Baelor. The man offered him a job a few months ago, which had stroked his ego tenfold.
But the rest- Aerion’s grandparents, his cousins, his aunts, and all other uncles- thought he was a schmuck. Valarr, for example, Aerion’s cousin, loathed the sight of him.
Nothing however, compared to what Maekar thought.
“It’s not like your Da will be there afterall.” He hums pleasantly enough as the phone dials Daeron. The older man once said he’d like to see Dunk’s head on a spike one day, after catching him kissing Aerion’s cheek.
“You put your grubby fucking mitts anywhere near my son again and I’ll have you beaten to death.”
Duncan isn’t proud to admit it, but he’d gone home that evening and screwed Aerion over the kitchen counter just to spite the man.
“Duncan, of course my father will be present. It’s a family camping retreat.”
He feels his stomach twist into a knot.
“Wait, what?” He gapes, “You said just Daeron-“
“I said Dearon will be there, not that it’ll only be him,” Aerion frowns and then gives him a wounded look that makes Duncan’s heart wince, “Do you not want to go now because my family will be present? Do you really dislike them that much?”
It’s a trap. It’s a trap. It’s a trap.
“What?” He gapes, “No! No, of course not, I just-”
“Hello?”
He flinches, looking down at Aerion’s phone with raised brows. Daeron’s face smiles up at him lazily, his photo from when he was younger, with no eyebags (he has permanent ones now) and hair cut short and proper.
‘Useless bum’ reads the contact name. A familiar theme to be found in Aerion’s phone. Most of his contacts include some sort of insult as their name; Valarr, his cousin’s, written as a particularly cruel ‘Fuckwad’. The only respectable ones are ‘Uncle Bealor’ ‘Father’ and Duncan’s favorite; ‘baby <3’.
That’s him. He’s baby.
“Brother. Hello. It’s Aerion.”
“Yeah, I know,” The man says through the phone as Aerion stares down at it with a glower, “I have caller ID. Literally every cell phone has that now-”
“I wasn’t sure if you were sober or not,” Aerion replies swiftly, “Sometimes I’ll call and you can hardly recall your own name.”
A pause.
“Fuck off,” Comes Daeron’s reply a few moments later and Dunk struggles to hold back a snort.
“Listen,” Aerion elbows him in the gut, moving away so he can lean over the counter, “I was talking to Duncan about the camping trip-”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Daeron laments, “Father’s been on my arse about it all for weeks.”
Aerion halts, “Weeks?” he repeats and Duncan watches in slow motion as his partner begins to realize he’s been out of the loop, “You’ve been talking about this for weeks?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Nobody told me anything until today.”
The closed-off expression he wears is not an unfamiliar one. Aerion gets like this from time to time; guarded. He gets wounded easily, even if he pretends he doesn’t. His family is a sore spot and only recently has he begun to work on being a better son and brother.
Duncan knows some of the past; Aerion used to be a nightmare child; rude, arrogant, violent in some instances. He’d apparently broken a girl’s finger, back in secondary school, after overhearing her gossip about his family’s bloodline being ‘inbred’ and nearly ended up in juvie before his father stepped in.
He’s grown since then. A good portion of his…issues…stem from the loss of his mother when he was young and he’s gone to therapy, put in the work, and become his own man.
But Duncan knows the feeling of losing a parent young and the damage it does.
The daddy issues are complex to him however and he never has any idea how to deal with Maekar Targaryen’s hover-parenting style.
“Oh, well, I think father was worried you wouldn’t show if you knew Valarr was coming-”
“Valarr is coming?” Aerion snaps, and Duncan watches as some of that fire in his eyes dances, “Why the fuck-”
“I don’t know, don’t ask me,” Daeron cuts him off, “But father said this trip is really important and we all need to be there. So…be there.”
“Well,” Aerion worries his bottom lip with his teeth, “...I’ll be bringing Duncan.”
A loud sigh punctuates the now silent kitchen– the only sound being the bubbling of boiling water on the stove behind Duncan– and Daeron tsks, “I don’t know if dad’ll be happy about that-”
“He said, it would be a ‘ camping trip’,” Aerion says more firmly, reaching out a hand and clamping it around Duncan’s forearm tightly, “Duncan likes camping, so I’m bringing him.”
Duncan sighs internally. Well, shit. The look in Aerion’s eye is similar to when he wanted to put up wallpaper in the bedroom- he’s not backing down.
Daeron seems to think the same, “Whatever. Your funeral.”
“Father will just have to deal with it. Especially if fucking Valarr is coming,” Aerion goes on, saying his cousin’s name like it’s a slur, “I mean, I’ll die if I have to spend the weekend with all of you horrid-”
“It’s a week long.”
Aerion twitches. Duncan feels himself fill with dread.
“What?”
“It’s a week, brother. Seven fucking day, where all of us will be shoved into close quarters and be forced to participate in family bonding time, courtesy of Aunt Jena and Uncle Baelor and their god awful pentince for loving thy brother, and all that horse shit.”
“Oh.” Aerion hums, looking a little pink. He turns to Duncan, “You are so fucking coming with me.”
Family Group Chat
(Irritants + Father)
August 4th 18: 12
Useless Bum
nobody told aerion huh
Father
Told him what?
Useless Bum
that the trip is next week
Father
I told him this morning.
Useless Bum
yea and you told me back in july
Father
I've been working on other things.
Least favourite brother
Why is aerion coming??
It’s supposed to be a FAMILY vacation
Father
Your brother is family.
Least favourite brother
Daeron said you found him in a dumpster when he was a baby
Useless Bum
no i did not
Least favourite brother
U did
Useless Bum
anyways
hey think about it this way eggy, if he comes, you can hang out with Duncan all week
Least favourite brother
Dunk is coming?!?!?!?!
Father
Absolutely not.
Re:
Aegon, you were adopted from a family of pigs.
Father found you in the mud.
I already invited Duncan also.
Do not call him Dunk.
We’ll be there on Friday.
Useless Bum
Cool
Least favourite brother
You should stay home and just send DUNK
Father
Duncan was NOT invited, Aerion.
This is for FAMILY only!!
Re:
That’s why he’s coming with.
Aemon
Aw.
Father
I’m not arguing with you on this. Do not bring him.
Re:
But daddy I already said he could come 🙁
Don’t make me tell him he can’t
Least favourite brother
Ew
Father
Aerion.
Aemon
Happy to hear Duncan is coming.
He is very kind.
Father
He isn’t coming.
Stop that
Irritating roach #1
Bigfoot is coming!!!
Irritating roach #2
Big foot woooo
Re:
Don’t call him that.
Least favourite brother
Dont call him that
Father
Aerion, he can’t come with. This is a family gathering.
Your uncles and aunts will be there.
It wouldn’t be appropriate
Aemon
Isn’t Kierra coming tho?
Father
That’s different
Re:
What? How is it different?
Father
Your cousin and her have been dating for three years
Re:
And they aren’t even engaged.
That relationship’s doomed to fail.
Duncan and I on the other hand…
Father
AERION.
Useless Bum
Wait does that mean you and duncan are engaged?
Re:
Not yet.
Father
What
Least favourite brother
What
Father
Listen to me, Aerion. You are NOT to have Duncan come with.
Re:
I'm bringing him.