The Cabin - Part 4

All characters are consenting adults (18+)

Rain continued to pour down the windows into the morning. Mike hung off the sofa, his chest exposed and a tent in his boxer shorts. He rubbed his eyes and lay there for a moment, enduring the headache from the whiskey, before groaning and sitting up.

The fire had gone out and the cabin had become cold during the night. Rather than dress, however, the man chucked some more firewood into the wood burner, and stood next to it as the flames caught.

As much as he wanted to forget the events from the night before, there was no denying that the teen had made him feel something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Yet, the idea of it made the pit in his stomach widen.

Mike made a cup of coffee and stood next to the window, watching the rain pour from the dull, grey sky. The ground outside looked like a swamp, and he wondered how much more it would take for the cabin to flood. By the time he’d drained the last of his coffee, he decided that it would be best to wake Ollie up and get him home as soon as possible.

“You awake?” He called, from outside the bedroom. He knew enough about eighteen year old teenagers to know that busting into the room was rarely a good option. “Ollie, are you up?”

He didn’t answer. He was likely reeling from the embarrassment of what had happened the night before, but Mike had already taken responsibility for that. What on earth had possessed him to give a lad that size whiskey?

“Look, forget about last night” he said, putting his ear to the door, “it was my fault, so let’s just move on from it”.

Still, Ollie remained silent, so Mike sighed and grabbed the door handle. “I’m coming in” he announced, before twisting it and pushing open the door to an empty bedroom.

“Ollie?”

The bed was made, but Ollie was nowhere to be found.

“Ollie?” He called again, walking back out of the bedroom and checking the bathroom to no avail. “You’re fuckin’ kidding me” he growled, returning to the living room and realising that all of his clothes were gone.

He shook his head and dropped his face into his hands. He shouldn’t have even invited the guy in last night. It was stupid of him, and utterly unlike him, but there was just something about Ollie that he couldn’t explain.

Perhaps it was how much he reminded him of himself. Everything, from the lonely childhood in the wilderness to the mother who struggled every single day. The only difference between Mike and Ollie, was that at least Mike had a father growing up.

He checked his watch before buttoning up his shirt and pulling on yesterday’s jeans. It was barely eight, but he was becoming increasingly worried about Ollie out in the remnants of the storm. What if he’d injured himself walking home? What if he’d never even made it home? If nothing else, he had to check to make sure, but just as he pulled open the door, Ollie barged straight into him, and sent eggs crashing all over the floor.

“Jesus, Ollie!” Mike growled, as he looked down at the mess that was now covering both of them. “Where the fuck were you? You had me worried sick!”

Ollie’s mouth hung open as he dripped rain and egg yolk onto the cabin floor. He tried to speak, but no words came out and for a split second, Mike noticed what looked like tears in his eyes, before he quickly wiped them away.

“Sorry” he said, sheepishly, “I was uh… I just thought I could go and get us some… Well, some eggs”.

His shoulders dropped as he looked down at the broken eggs, but Mike had gotten over that part. He was just glad that the kid was okay.

“Get in” he said, pulling him further inside and closing the door. “Did you go all the way to the store in that?”

Ollie nodded. He looked like a drowned rat as he stood there, shaking and sopping, with his clothes clinging to his wet body.

“Get them off” Mike said, but instead of hesitating like he’d done yesterday, Ollie instantly began stripping.

Mike refused to look at him for a moment, as he undone his own egg-stained shirt, and began cleaning up the mess, but a few minutes later, Ollie stood before him wearing only a pair of wet, white briefs, and Mike’s mouth became dry.

“Shower’s down there” he said, but Ollie didn’t move. “Do you hear me?” He asked, standing up. “You can have a shower down there”.

Again, Ollie stayed put. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come out.

“If this is about last night” Mike said, and Ollie dropped his head. “Look, it was a drunken mistake” he laughed, and placed his hand on Ollie’s naked shoulder. It felt almost electric. “Forget about it. Go on and get cleaned up, I’ll sort out breakfast”.

With those words, Ollie shuffled toward the hall, and when Mike looked back, he caught the eighteen year old staring at him.

“Thanks” he said.

“Thanks? Thanks for what?”

“For letting me stay last night” Ollie shrugged, “and for… Well, just for everything”.

He didn’t let Mike respond. He turned on his heel and walked toward the bathroom, and Mike couldn’t help but let his eyes drop and watch the young man’s perfectly round ass fill out his almost see-through briefs.

“Don’t be stupid” he growled to himself, as he felt his cock swell. “Don’t be fucking stupid”.

It wasn’t much, but two egg sandwiches and two steaming cups of coffee sat on the table by the time Ollie shuffled to the door and poked his wet head around.

“Um… Do you have a towel I could borrow?” He asked, clearly naked on the other side of the door frame. Mike, who had never been particularly bothered by nudity, simply nodded and pointed at a chair in the living room where a towel hung over the back. Ollie hesitated for a moment before darting into the room with his hands clasped tightly around his junk, giving Mike a perfect view of his backside.

With the towel wrapped around his waist, Ollie sat at the opposite side of the table and began to eat.

“What do you do around here?” Mike asked him. “I mean, don’t you work or go to college?”

“I help Hank sometimes” he chewed, “but mostly I help around the house”.

“What about money?” He pressed, “surely a guy your age wants money for shit?”

Ollie shrugged his shoulders. “What would I need money for? Dad left us enough to get what we need”.

“It’s not just about what you need, Ollie” Mike said, watching as the lad scoffed the food. “What about the things that you want?”

The question seemed to genuinely confuse the young man. He thought about it for a moment before shrugging his naked shoulders.

“I have books” he said, taking another bite. “I have food and clothes, and all that stuff. I don’t want anything else”.

The answer was astonishing. Even Mike, when he was that age, had wanted things. Yet, Ollie seemed entirely convincing.

“Drugs” Mike said. “You’re telling me you don’t want to at least try?”

He shook his head.

“Fine then, a car. Every teenage guy wants to drive a car. You’re telling me you don’t want that?”

Ollie shrugged once more and Mike could only laugh.

“You know chicks love cars, right? A guy your age rocking up to a pretty lady in a nice car? Dude, she’d be all over you”.

With that, Ollie’s face became instantly red, and he chewed the last bite slower before gulping down some coffee.

“Or guys” Mike added, realising what he’d said. “Guys love it, too. I’d imagine. If uh… If that’s what you’re into, of course. Either way, I don’t judge… I mean, you’re an adult. You can choose whatever you… I mean, not choose, but…” As he tripped all over his words, Mike looked up to find Ollie chuckling to himself.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing”.

“Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just funny, is all”.

“What’s funny?”

“You”.

“What about me is funny?” Mike asked, finishing his coffee.

“You’re… I don’t know. You’re a real tough guy, but you’re not”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You look real big and mean” Ollie said, studying the rugged man. “You sound real big and mean. You even act real big and mean, but you’re not”.

Mike wasn’t sure whether to feel insulted or complimented.

“So, what am I then?”

Ollie shrugged his shoulders once more. “Dunno” he said, and got to his feet, “thanks for breakfast” he added, and strolled over to the living room, before dropping the towel to his ankles and exposing his perfect ass. “My clothes aren’t dry yet, are they?”

Mike couldn’t help it anymore. Underneath the kitchen table, his cock twitched to life.

“No” he said, “not yet”.