[If you see this message, it means the prompt is still open]

"Alright, that's it for me, I'm calling it a night!" my dad grabbed hold of his empty beer can, got up from the tree trunk he was sitting on, and lumbered his way towards his and mom's tent. My mom followed and they both disappeared, stepping away from the light of the campfire in front of us.

Soon after, so did your wife. "Don't get too wasted" she gave you a playful smile and planted a kiss on your forehead before turning around and making her way to your tent. Your son was nowhere to be seen tonight, probably off having fun with a group he had met earlier in the day.

That left the two of us. The night was still warm, even more so with the campfire in front of us. The air smelled of cooked marshmallows - one of which was at the end of my stick - and awkwardness. Yes. Awkwardness. I avoided looking at you by locking in on the piece of white and pink sugar. I slowly rotated the stick so that it burned on all sides, and only succumbed and looked away from it when the brightness of the fire threatened to hurt my eyes. I met your gaze, and cringed on the inside. I looked away again.

You had known me for years. Living right next door to your best friends was already a treat, but the fact that your son and I had hit it off as best friends in our younger years had been a bonus. Even if we then had drifted apart (to good friends, just not the best), you still saw yourself as some sort of uncle of mine. And so did I see you that way, too.

As I grew up, you took it upon yourself to advise me about boys, and keep me in line, but you didn't shy away from the "cool uncle" role, helping me get away with the occasional mischief without telling my parents. Like uncles do. Then teenage years came, then college, and like any teenager and young adult I started drifting away from parental figures of any sort. Up until the last couple of years, where I seemed to get over that angsty stubbornness and recovered some, if not all, of my familiarity with you, your wife, and my parents.

There was this one thing though.

Near the end of last year, at the end of one of many rendezvous at your place during the Christmas season, I had ended up kissing you on the lips. Just like that. We were both alone in your living room; tipsy, not to say drunk, and after yet another advice regarding grades and boys, I had thanked you. Only that time I had done so with a kiss on your lips instead of on your cheek. Before you could react, I had left the room, but what followed was a string of awkward days from me as I lost the drunken courage of that night. Until one day it was all water under the bridge and things went back to normal. You sometimes questioned yourself if that kiss had ever happened or if your drunk mind had been playing tricks on you.

That was until last night.

While everyone was drinking and having fun near the lake, you and I had volunteered to walk back up towards our camp to fetch more beers, blankets and some snacks. Neither of us was sober. If anything, we were way worse than we had been that Christmas season night. We arrived at camp, we each fetched our share of things, and then it happened. In between words that were, in comparison, too unremarkable to remember, and after a smile and a playful jab on my shoulder, I had perhaps misjudged a moment of connection and kissed you again. This time I hadn't stopped at a peck. I had wrapped my arms around your shoulders, pulled you in and kissed you. With such naturality that you couldn't make sense of what was happening up until my lips pushed yours open, and my tongue first moved with yours. You let it linger, rather than responding, tasting the alcohol in my mouth. And then you had stopped me.

The walk back down to the lake last night had been silent, and every bit as awkward as we were right now, in front of the campfire.

"Fuck-" my voice rose you from your thoughts. You watched as I quickly pulled the stick away from the bonfire, with a charred remnant of what once had been a marshmallow on its tip. It seemed like you weren't the only one dreaming with your eyes open.

Thank you for reading this far!

I think the prompt is self-explanatory. You and your wife are best friends with my parents, who happen to be your neighbors. You and I have had a close, though at times complicated (like any teenager - adult) relationship for as many years as I had been alive. Now I'm an adult too! Things should be back to normal, right? But in the past months, on two different instances, we kissed. Or rather, I kissed you. That first time, you didn't have time to react. The second one, you pushed me away. My family and yours are camping together in a park, with other people nearby (we can set the layout of the camp with more detail later in case you want to), and that last kiss happened just last night. Today we mostly avoided each other, up until now, when we're the only two left up, while your son is somewhere with his newfound friends.

We are close, but we couldn't be more different. We're in different phases of our lives. You have a family, an established job and you're already feeling the urge to make plans for retirement while I'm on the last years of college, with my life ahead of me. I keep myself in shape, groomed and enjoy life while you are settling into your dad/husband body, in a very happy marriage and with the blessing (and the curse) of an extremely talented cook as a wife.

So what will happen next? That's what we'll figure out together! Sneaking into my tent? Call it a night and move to another day? Have a proper kiss and break it off again right there? Will we just explore the boundaries of intimacy? Who knows! I'm open to small adjustments to our backstory and ages here and there, but that was my main idea. The beginning ought not to be rushed, though.

I have a strong preference for opening messages which dive right into the writing (for example, retelling the prompt from the guy's perspective and pushing the action slightly forward, or giving background, or whatever you see fit), even if we then backtrack (and we most likely will) to figure some details out. I know it requires a bit more investment on your behalf, but it's much more important to me that we match in writing styles than in personality or OOC-talk.

As for my kinks: I'm into big age gaps, long build-ups and escalation, teasing, slow burners, oral/vaginal/anal, masturbation, outercourse, grinding, risk of getting caught, risky locations, rimjobs, rough sex, slow sex, etc. As you may have guessed from the prompt itself something I'm quite fond of is attractiveness gaps/odd pairings, so dad-bods, greying hairs, or whatever it is you want that speaks of a guy past his prime are more than welcome!

My limits are toilet stuff, fisting, beastiality, and extreme pain.

I don't use Reddit chat, only DM's. Looking forward to hearing from you!