Cabin Fever Ch. 01

Note to Readers: This story includes gay sex. If this offends you, or you are under legal age, don't read it.

It was autumn; the trees by the highway were like enormous explosions of brilliant color. My friend Tim was happily rubbernecking as we drove out into the country. Fortunately, I didn't need his help navigating. This was extremely familiar territory for me and it was wonderful to be getting back to it at last.

Tim and I had gotten to know each other 6 years ago while my girlfriend Fiona and I were doing our internships at the same law firm. Sadly, it had been a fairly unpleasant experience for me. It wasn't long before I got extremely sick of all the manipulation and double-dealing going on behind the scenes. Not to mention the complete and utter lack of respect for anyone who didn't have grey hair, a big belly and a wife – the stodgy partners would never dream of promoting a female lawyer, or of even hiring a gay one - and children. The only good side was getting to know Tim. He introduced himself to us on the first day, a bright and chipper man of average height and size, with neat brown hair and the most glorious green eyes that I had ever seen. I could see Fiona drooling over them and I have to admit that I completely understood the impulse; they were the sort of eyes that you could get lost in if you weren't careful. However, Tim was so extremely friendly and so clearly sincere that it was impossible for me to feel jealous or anything like that.

It didn't take very long for the three of us to become extremely close friends. It was partly that the atmosphere in the office was such that even sworn enemies would have been driven to form a bond so as to present a united front in the face of the abuse that we received from the more senior lawyers (I swiftly lost track of the number of times that I was interrupted in the middle of my work to go remake the coffee because some jerk didn't like the way it had turned out the first time). It was also that Tim was just a generally nice guy with whom I had a lot in common. We both enjoyed camping and fishing. All three of us liked puttering around in the kitchen, science fiction novels and folk music; a random spattering of similarities to be certain, but enough to make lunch hours and evening gatherings pleasant and interesting.

After about 4 months, however, I had had absolutely enough. One of the junior members of the firm had been assigning us massive additional projects and then stealing the credit for our hard work. I quit in protest, and decided to follow my real dreams of being an author. I got a job at a bookstore, which was ideal in every way that the internship had been lacking and started spending a fair amount of time just scribbling away. Fiona was extremely unhappy about this; she said that I was wasting my time, that I had simply given up because of a small rough patch and that this was the biggest career mistake of my life. We fought bitterly about this. I admit that I made my fair share of nasty remarks, calling her a pathetic doormat for being willing to put up with the tripe that the firm dished out and yelling that she was selling her soul for a hollow and unfulfilling job. The situation degenerated from there and we broke up shortly thereafter. Tim was a saint during this period. I was absolutely wretched. I felt like I had been a horrible boyfriend and a failure as a person. I was also depressed because the longest relationship of my life (over 2 years) had ended so badly. Tim consoled me, reassured me that I wasn't a horrible person and that some things just didn't work out the way they should. He made certain that I didn't just retreat into a pit of depression. He encouraged me to get on with my writing and that I should only return to the law if I felt it was right for me. He also helped bridge the gap between me and Fiona. She felt just about the same as I had and Tim had also helped to put her back together at the same time. Fiona and I made amends and became friends again. We had definitely fallen out of love with each other, but as friends we became almost closer than we had been as lovers. When Tim and Fiona started going out, I was happy for them.

Over the next few years, I managed to get a few stories published in magazines and anthologies. I had been spending most of my time deep in the process of writing a trilogy of books about a world originally populated by the survivors of a crash of a massive spaceship. I had been so absorbed in my work that I barely kept in touch with many friends. I dated scarcely at all, and didn't embark on any serious relationships during that time. I did manage to keep some contact with Tim and Fiona. After they completed their internships, they set up a small practice together and worked like mad to keep it afloat. After the first two years, they split up on surprisingly friendly terms and continued to work together in apparent harmony. The next year they won a high profile case against the old firm and their practice took off like mad.

Finally, about a month ago, I found an agent and a publisher for my trilogy, which meant that I would finally have a bit of money put away. I had also recently finished writing two other books and sent them in with hopes of an equally good deal. I decided that this warranted a vacation, my first in years. Tim had just finished with a really big case and was looking somewhat exhausted when he and Fiona came to my celebratory dinner. I suggested that a fishing trip might be just the break he needed. As we each had a fair number of miscellaneous tasks to deal with before either of us could leave the city, we agreed on early October as the best time to travel. I phoned my uncle the next day and confirmed that we could use his cabin up North on the lake. My cousins and I had spent many summers up there and I was full of nostalgia. He did warn me that the cabin wasn't in fantastic shape, since it didn't see a lot of use since "you kids" grew up and he and my aunt were getting a little old for the level of isolation up there.

Back in the present, I made the exit from the highway onto the main road which would take us to the small town closest to the lake. There, I went into the town hall to get my uncle's fishing permit stamped for the year while Tim picked up some hot dogs and hamburgers to grill in case the fish didn't bite. These went to supplement the already ample provisions which we had brought from the city. I poked Tim in the shoulder: "What is this, the cynical lawyer's approach to everything?" He just chuckled and said, "I'm just making sure that we eat well even if your memories aren't entirely accurate... There's no way the fishing could be as good as you claim it is." I stuck my tongue out at him and he just laughed. So did I.

We got back on the smaller road and followed it to the trail which led up through the woods to a tiny building. As I pulled the car up in front of it, Tim said, "You know, Marc, that's an awfully tiny cabin. It's going to be very intimate (waggling his eyebrows at me) in there". I rolled my eyes at him, suppressing a strange urge to blush, "That's because it's just the garage, Doofus. The cabin is twenty minutes walk up the path back there." Tim looked dubiously at me as he stepped out of the car, "You mean we're going to have to lug our supplies up there, a few bags at a time? That could take till sunset and it's already starting to get a little nippy." I grinned as I swung out of my door and went to open the padlocked garage, "I thought that youlikedfresh air and exercise. Don't worry though, there's a pair of little wagons and some rope in here and two trips should do it easily. Just be glad that you're not the one who has to drag wood and fuel for the generator, that's a pain in the neck." We opted to take up the food and fishing tackle first and to return for our bags and linens afterwards.

By the time we made it to the edge of the lake we were both feeling considerably warmer. Tim paused to look out over the clear water and took a deep breath of air and said, "Boy, it's great to be back out in the country again. I didn't realize quite how much I missed it. This is a really nice place you've got here.". "I like it a lot too, but you may want to hold off on praise until we've seen that everything is running as it ought to. I wouldn't want you to jinx anything. You're right though, the scenery is breathtaking." I was thinking of the lake and the leaves when I spoke. Somehow though, the image of Tim in his flannel shirt and jeans, with those unbelievable eyes, his hair tousled by the cool breeze, seemed to pop into my head unbidden along with the word 'breathtaking'.Damn, what am I thinking here? Tim's just a friend, and a guy. I've never thought about a guy like that before...Fortunately, Tim was absorbed in the view and didn't seem to notice my inner soliloquy.

We passed by the woodshed on the way to the main cabin. We climbed the steps to the covered porch and I opened the door to the house and waved Tim in. Inside was a small living area with an old wood-framed loveseat, sitting facing the fireplace across a fake bearskin rug. Behind that was the dining area, with a small table, 4 chairs, and a woodstove, sink and miniature refrigerator. The glass door on the other end gave a great view showing the dock, boathouse and the lake. Unfortunately, after sitting empty for a while, the cabin smelled a little stale. I pointed to the doors on the right, "How about if you go open the windows in the bedrooms and bathroom to get a little airflow? I'd better go down and get the generator running for the fridge and hot water."

"Can do. I'll put the food away too, while I'm at it."

I nodded and traipsed out to the little shed behind the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, Tim came and found me somewhat grease stained and cursing like a lumberjack. Well, actually, I was swearing because he startled me and I had banged my head on the doorframe. At 6'3" this was something that happened a little too often for my taste. "Shit, Marc, are you okay? Here, sit down and let me have a look at it."

"I'm fine, at least I managed to get the miserable thing running and fueled up. We have the fridge and hot water for the bathroom." I said, sitting on the ground. I felt Tim's hands running gently over my head. It actually felt kind of nice... ow! I jerked back, "Careful! That hurt!" Tim winced in sympathy, "Sorry, dude. At least it looks like a pretty minor bump."

He gave me a hand up, "Hey, tell you what, why don't you sit down and build the fire so that it's ready to go when we come back. I'll deal with carrying in some extra wood for the night."

"Sounds good to me," I said, "I don't mind a bit of a breather before we have to lug the stuff back up the trail." I managed to make a nice tepee of kindling in the fireplace and moved some bigger pieces into place so that they'd catch once the smaller stuff was burning. Meanwhile Tim got a little carried away and brought in enough wood for about four days. When I teased him about it, he shrugged, "It's starting to cloud over and I figured it would be a good idea to have the wood dry."

"Shoot, we'd better run down for the rest of the stuff before it rains!"

We made it down to the garage and I started to fill the water jugs at the tap inside. "Why are you bothering with that?" asked Tim "isn't there water up at the cabin?"

"Yeah, but it isn't always safe to drink. The well water's fine for washing, but sometimes it can get unreliable, or the pump can stop running, or that sort of thing."

"Then what about this stuff? Is it any better?"

"Oh, this tap is actually connected to the water system for the campground down the trail. It's pure. The only reason Uncle Dave didn't get power and water running up to the cabin from here is that the land in between is actually part of a provincial park and he's not allowed to dig it up. In fact, when my grandparents renovated the cabin, they had to have most of the stuff brought in by boat."

"So, why is the park just randomly located here?"

"Funny that you should ask, Mr. Lawyer. It's part of a much larger preserve to either side. The government was selling off the middle area, because few animals actually live here, but some naturalists realized that it was serving as a kind of pathway between the two areas, so it shouldn't be destroyed. They managed to get an ordinance preventing any further development on the pieces which hadn't been sold. "

"Sounds like a weird but good reason. Are we done here? It's starting to rain..."

Tossing our bags and the jugs into the wagons, we set off up the trail as raindrops started to fall around us. The clouds were starting to make it pretty dark. We made it about a third of the way before the sky really opened up and soaked us to the skin. I heard Tim yell suddenly as he slipped on wet leaves and went down in the mud. "Are you OK?" I shouted over the noise of the storm as I pulled him up. "I've been a lot better," he replied, "Let's just get up to the house and fast."

By the time we made it onto the porch, we were both completely sodden and dripping. So were the bags. So were the water jugs, not that that particularly mattered. "Shit, Tim, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen when I asked you up here."

"Cheer up Marc," he said, patting me on the back, "I like camping, remember. This is just part of the fun, sort of..."

His grin was almost convincing and I might have believed it if he hadn't been shivering like a drowned rat.

"Alright, nature boy, let's leave these bags on the porch, the roof should keep'em from getting any wetter. Meanwhile I'm lighting the fire, and you're jumping in the hot shower before you 'fun' yourself into pneumonia."

Smiling for real this time, Tim tossed his shoes and went into the bathroom. Meanwhile, I realized that the windows in the bedrooms were still open. Argh! I was closing the window in the small front room which, sheltered by the porch roof, had only let in enough rain to dampen the floor beneath it, when Tim rushed into the room, shirtless. "Marc, I forgot to close the ... oh." He looked extremely contrite and very cute. The sprinkling of hair on his chest was standing up and his nipples looked so hard that I just wanted to ...Jeez, what am I thinking? This is Tim here, although he does seem to have been working out...No, think about other things, the windows. Oh no! The windows!

While I had spaced, Tim had rushed to the back room. I followed. He was closing the big window over the bed as I came in. I ran and closed the other one. "This is all my fault," he said, sitting down on the soaked bed. "I shouldn't have forgotten the windows. I knew it looked like rain."

"Give over," I told him as I pulled him up and started him moving towards the bathroom, "It's not like you're the only one to blame. I completely forgot too and it's very much spilled milk anyway. Now get into the shower while I deal with warming this place up. If we're lucky, there'll be a few dry towels in the cupboard in there. My aunt usually forgets them at the end of the summer."

He went, and I quickly started the fire in the living room and managed to get one going in each of the woodstoves – fortunately, besides the big one in the kitchen, there was a small one in each of the bedrooms. My grandmother, perpetually chilly, had insisted on these thirty years ago and I was grateful for that now. I also managed to find a bag of cleaning rags under the kitchen sink and was about to go try to wipe up as much water as I could in the back bedroom when Tim came out of the bathroom. He was naked and was drying his hair with a small towel. I had never realized how attractive he was. At about 5'8", he had a lean and toned body. Not heavily muscular, but certainly developed and defined. His nipples had softened in the shower and were beginning to firm up again because the room was still a little chilly. His cock was gently swaying from an auburn thatch of fur along with two nice-sized balls. I felt myself stiffen in my pants as my mouth went dry. Fortunately, denim, even when wet, conceals a multitude of sins. "You were right," he was saying, "I found a pair of towels in there. I left you the bigger one, sort of a thank you for letting me have first shower." (He always was a sweet guy) Taking in my somewhat glassy stare, he grinned and blushed a little "Sorry about the casual nudity, but it's not like I've got anything dry to wear, and I got over any body issues when I was on the soccer team in high school." I snapped out of it moderately quickly, "Sorry, yeah. I'm just a little dazed by the storm (right, theStorm...just who do you think you're fooling, Marc? Now what's the deal with this sudden Tim attraction anyway?)and I guess I'm not used to seeing people naked that often. I'll just hit the shower myself; I'm feeling pretty chilled by now."

Blushing furiously, I made it into the bathroom and closed the door. It was true that I was feeling pretty cold. I was covered in goose bumps and my balls were drawn up so close to my body that they might have been trying to crawl back inside. I stripped off my wet clothes, dropping them on top of Tim's. He had left them in a neat pile on the floor, under the now closed window. As I lowered my briefs, my 6" erection popped up and slapped me in the stomach. Clearly something was going on here. I tried to puzzle it out. I had never found men particularly attractive before, and I certainly had never done anything of a sexual nature with a guy before, unless I counted the few times that my cousin and I masturbated to porn together when we were teenagers. Maybe it was just general loneliness and horniness. It was true that I hadn't had sex in a while, and that it had been even longer since I had been in a relationship of any kind. I just hadn't met any woman who set off the kind of sparks that I had had with Fiona, the kind of sparks that I was starting to feel right now...I'm not ready for this. I feel like such an idiot.

I wasn't about to go back out there with my throbbing erection, that was for darn sure. I stepped into the shower and turned it on. Letting the hot spray pound across my back, I grabbed the soap. I gently rubbed the bar across my chest, stomach and crotch, enough to leave my front nice and sudsy. I lightly circled my left, and then my right nipple with my fingers, experiencing faint twinges of pleasure in response. Gradually rubbing my hands around on my stomach in tight circles, across my firm abs and down towards my penis, I closed my eyes and imagined that they were somebody else's hands on me, pleasuring me. Alright, I was imaging they were Tim's hands and feeling a little weird about it. Nonetheless, the response I was getting downstairs was enough to counteract the awkwardness. I wrapped one hand around my cock, gently squeezing and slowly moving up and down. I wasn't going to last very long. Picking up the pace a bit, I leaned back a little further, letting the water massage my neck and flow down my chest, around the base of my cock and sluice from my balls. Experiencing a new curiosity, I took my second hand and ran it between my ass cheeks. I let my slippery fingers run over my hole, causing tingles up my spine and in my balls. Slowly, cautiously, I let my middle finger slide in. The sudden new feeling made me moan softly.Wow, I've been missing THIS all this time?I was only able to drive my finger in to the second knuckle before the combined sensations in front and in back sent me over the edge. With a low whimper, I came, spattering a thick load of semen on the shower floor. My knees went weak and I slowly sank down until I was leaning against the stall wall. Panting, just letting the water fall on me, I recovered from my orgasm.