Weekend at the Cabin Ch. 01

"All right, it's rock, paper scissors to figure out the rooms."

Mark, Alan and James are driving up the Crest Lodge in Western Colorado for a weekend of boarding, hot tubbing and a fair chance at some ski bunnies. This weekend away during the winter break of their senior year winter is a well-earned vacation heading into the final push before grad school. In addition to getting out onto the hills, this time together was really meant to be the last hurrah as far as boys' nights out without key exams hanging over their heads.

The three had been friends since junior year when they all had pretty much the exact same schedules as they pursued their computer science degrees. They all knew that degree isn't sexy, until university is done and the six-figure programming jobs roll in, so Alan got the other two heading to the gym a few times a week. As workout buddies and study buddies, they had become good friends and seen one another through a lot of life over the past couple of years.

Alan had been an athlete all through high school and that continued into university. He was a rower who trained vigorously whenever he wasn't studying, but he never seemed to be without a beautiful coed on his arm on every Saturday night. His 6-foot frame, piercing blue eyes and killer smile sealed the deal since everyone knew about his incredible arms and tight physique from watching him row. His generally unkept shaggy brown hair and apparently permanent tan were just kept enough to make people ask if he modelled, but between rowing and computers, he was pretty content without that extra work.

Mark and James were scholars that Alan had helped get more physical. Computers came first for them both, but since Alan helped them focus on their health, they were definitely more popular with the fairer sex than many of their peers in their comp sci program. Mark was 6'2 and weighed in at about 185 pounds. He wasn't lanky, wasn't cut, but definitely fit. His hair was similar in style to Alan, but blond and usually hid under a ball cap. His thick-framed glasses contrasted his near-white skin and his clean-shaven face made him seem much less of a hipster than his hair, hat and non-baggy jeans would lead one to believe. James, on the other hand, was just over 5'11 and was still growing into his body, even at 21. He was much more slight than Alan, a touch more slight than Mark, and generally worked out just to be with his friends (though he couldn't deny the benefits). Even though he was shorter, he was much the average of the other two with near-blond hair, green eyes and a genuine smile that put people at ease.

Only 10 minutes out from the lodge and the sleeping arrangements still hadn't been made. The guys were so excited about getting away when they booked that they were happy to rent the 2-bedroom family cabin and no one wanted to know whether they'd be stuck on the queen bed with his buddy while the other was in the smaller, likely less comfortable, twin bed down the hall.

Alan was least inclined to bunk up with either of his buddies and he also knew he has a terrible record in rock, paper scissors, so he wanted to get this out of the way. "Okay, gents, rock paper scissors - first one out gets the twin bed and the 'winners' get the queen."

"No way," James quickly countered. "You always lose at rock paper scissors. Why don't we just save the beds for whoever comes back with a lady and, if the third guy's back with one he's stuck with the floor and fireplace in the living room?"

"Because you never bring one back, buddy!" joked Alan. "You make it so far into the friend zone that they're more likely to just sleep on the couch if you if they manage to make it home at all!"

The arguments continued, but as they pulled into their cabin and Mark, ever the peacemaker, brought his Explorer to a stop and said "Ok, if there are ladies coming back to the cabin, it's queen, twin, floor in that order. If there aren't, it's up to our rock, paper, scissors and, as Alan pointed out, the easiest way to split us is that the 'loser' wins. If someone beats both others, it's his choice. Let it be known - if the winner chooses to bunk up in the queen, and chooses his partner, he'll never live down the rumours of a man crush!" Everyone laughed and they knew they'd all be playing for the twin.

"One! Two! Three!" in unison. Alan a rock, both James and Mark with scissors.

"I guess my bad luck with this game is done with, but I'm still taking the twin bed," smiled Alan.

As the guys made their way into their cabin with their boards and gear, they got a good look at their lodgings. All in all, not too bad with a living room complete with couch and fireplace taking up half the downstairs and a fully-stocked kitchen the other half. The stairs between the two rooms led up to a short hall with a bathroom at the end, master bedroom on the right and smaller bedroom on the left. With their gear in their rooms and food stocked in the kitchen, they settled in for a beer in the living room just to reflect on the semester and, once again, try to figure out how Alan is able to balance women, sports and school the way he does. With the first round done and the fireplace now roaring, James volunteered to go reload. Taking three empty beer bottles into the kitchen, he rinsed them out carefully before putting them on the counter when he noticed, between the fridge and front door, a wooden highchair that he didn't recall seeing on the way in. "Why would someone bring a baby to a ski cabin?" he wondered as he grabbed three more lagers from the fridge.

Sitting back down on the couch beside Mark, he handed out the beers and, without knowing why, said "We should make sure not to drink too much tonight if we're going to hit the slopes tomorrow morning."

The other two stared at him and Alan was the first to respond, nearly laughing. "Thanks, mom! Definitely don't want to get too drunk and hungover off of two whole beers. Haha!"

James's face dropped and he stared at the coffee table. He wasn't ever comfortable being laughed at, but in this case he was being laughed at for something he wasn't even sure he meant to say. Mark felt compelled to actually support James and said "Mark, he didn't say to stop after this one, but just that we shouldn't go too crazy tonight because the first tracks here are going to be awesome. You know, if you actually listened to James a bit more, you would probably find yourself in a better position to find a steady girlfriend instead of a new tramp every week - he really connects with people."

"All right - while you two sip your beers, I'm going to have a shower before I have at least one more and then hit the sack. If you figure out how to loosen up a bit while I'm gone, that'd be great, too!" Alan downed his beer and made his way up the stairs behind his two friends. James was still looking down, wondering what had happened when he felt a hand on his back. Instead of the jovial slap he was used to sharing between his friends, Mark was gently rubbing across his back from one shoulder to the next. James smiled when he heard "Don't worry about him - you were just looking out for him and at some point he will grow out of his beer-drinking and carousing to be glad you were there for him."

A hint of a smile crossed James's face as he looked over at his friend. "Thanks, Mark. I don't even know why I said we should take it easy, you know?"

"No problem, buddy, everything is definitely fine." With that, Mark reached around and put his arm around his friend and pulled him in for a quick, one-armed hug before letting him go and heading to the kitchen to see about snacks. James, comforted by the brief contact, was even more confused than when he had first spoken after coming back from the beers - why did Mark's words and his touch put him at such ease?

Upstairs, Alan was stripping down to have a shower. He wasn't exactly known as a narcissist, but taking a look at his own body in the mirror was something he enjoyed thoroughly - and why not? As he pulled his sweater up over his 8-pack abs and revealed his flat, chiseled pecs, he revelled in having less body fat than anyone else on the rowing team. As his sweater went over his head and down his arms, he flexed his left bicep and enjoyed the view for a moment as his right arm stripped him of his sweater. Undoing his pants and sliding them down along with his underwear followed a similar ritual with his ripped thighs and defined calves. He smiled at himself knowing that he couldn't be getting the ass he's getting from the ladies without that fine specimen of a cock - still flaccid, but wide, cut and dangling above a pair of large, well-hung balls, he could be ready on a second's notice to meet an expectant woman's needs and he knows it. Tearing himself away from the mirror, he looked at the bath tub and noticed there was no shower head.

"What the hell," he muttered. "What a pain - what are we supposed to do after getting all sweaty on the slopes?" He then thought about the hot tub outside and decided that it would probably be all right in the end. but, for the first time since he was about 9, he drew himself a bath. He lifted the plug's lever to keep the water in, ran the hot water and climbed right in. There was something about effectively sitting on the floor, in a bathtub no less, that made him feel small. Although he felt a bit uncertain, he did not feel terribly uncomfortable. Looking around the tub, he saw a bar of soap, some shampoo and, lo and behold, a rubber ducky. He laughed in spite of himself, saying out loud, "Well, this is fun, isn't it?" At least if they couldn't offer a shower head, the owners of the cabin were at least offering up a chance to make the bath a bit of a joke, if not actually fun.

As he grabbed the duck and threw it into the water for a laugh, it started to release a pink oily liquid into the tub. As the liquid spread to where the water was crashing into the bottom of the tub, bubbles began to form and, again, he couldn't help but laugh. The situation was downright silly. So he bounced the rubber ducky a few times in the water, released some more of the bubble bath and just let it fill up. As the water filled past his hips, the bubbles were up to his ribs and.... though he couldn't quite place the smell, it was decidedly flowery. It smelled very nice and, since he was worried about running out of bubble bath in the tub, he had no qualms about squeezing the duck in his strong hand. After a few squeezes and leaning forward to make sure the ducky released the liquid under the tap to generate the most bubbles, he realized the movement of the duck was fun in and of itself. Without squeezing and being content that there was enough bubble bath, he ran the duck along the top of the water, clearing its path through the bubbles as it went. Alan thought "If I was younger, this would definitely be an awful lot of fun." After a few minutes, he put the duck away and began to wash.

Alan stood up in the tub, grabbed the soap and began to soap himself up. Covered in suds and bubbles, he reached down and collected some water in his cupped hands for the top of his head. Next up the shampoo - normally cabins and hotels provide the miniature bottles, but this one provided a full-sized container of baby shampoo. Already in his hands before he noticed, the bottle must have been left by a parent he thought. Rather than get out and search for the grown-up shampoo, Alan just went ahead and washed with what he had. As soon as his shampoo-lathered hand touched his hair, the ridiculousness of the situation dawned on him. Here he was, a twenty-one year old decorated athlete and pure ladies man, standing in a bathtub having just played with a rubber ducky, covered in floral bubbles and soap, washing his hair with baby shampoo. He surprised himself with a giggle as he washed his hair and then laid back down in the tub for a full submersion to rinse.

As he let the water drain and stepped out of the tub, he grabbed one of the coloured towels provided by the lodge and dried himself off. Looking into the mirror once again, he was shocked to see that all of his body hair, apart from that on his head, was gone! Whether the bubbles or the soap, he didn't know, but his initial start was replaced by a calm acceptance. As the smell of the bubbles, now inside his towel, filled his nostrils, he became comfortable with his new look thinking that maybe more than just the swimmers can shave...