The Void

***AUTHORS NOTE*** I continue strong character development with another erotic story. In this one, I explore the male human condition, homosexuality, and the root of what it means to be a man. Enjoy.

* * *

The rain hammered against Jacob's body with its inconsistent beat, his clothes were saturated all the way through. He was meandering through the forest in the arms of a stranger, a young Latino man whose breath billowed steam in the frigid air, on their way to a destination unknown to him. The warm arms held him close; his head was rolling against the bare shoulder of his rescuer. Just as suddenly as he had regained consciousness, Jake could then see no more, exhaustion had taken him.

He was in a dreamscape; he remembered the strong shoulder upon which his cheek rested and the arms that cradled him. In the dream he was nude, and the person that held him was looking down at the soft part of him. He couldn't hide it, couldn't cover himself...nor did he want to. The stranger continued to watch, even as his shaft began to harden, the man stared with fascination. There was an erotic thrill in allowing this perfect stranger to watch his erection, to be exposed to him in the most vulnerable way. It was wrong, but it felt right. With a fuzzy haze, the dream began to fade.

Snapping open his eyes, Jacob's mind was in a daze. He was inside a sheltered space, wrapped in a brown blanket; his cheek was warm. Two young men turned to look at him when they realize he had become conscious again. As Jake's eyes adjusted to the darkness of the rainy evening, he was nearly blinded when he peered into the crackling fire within a pot belly stove. The radiating heat was warding off the chill.

"Here," said a masculine voice, "drink this, I think it'll make you feel better."

Jake could feel a hand slide under his neck and shoulders, propping him up slightly. Steam was puffing against his nose, and the edge of a bowl came in contact with his mouth. A broth was lapping at the dried skin of his lips, and instinctually, he started to drink. After a few gulps of the fatty liquid, he closed his mouth and lay back down. His eyes were heavy, and with a wavering voice he called out, "Where am I?"

"Safe," said the man.

"We found you by the river," another voice spoke. "What are you doing way out here?"

The river. Jake remembered the cold water rushing against his legs, flashes of the stormy skies overhead had flooded his memory. "Running," he responded. With another flash he saw himself falling in, his foot wedged between rocks, and the water forcing its way into his mouth. His eyes opened again; they searched the small space of the cabin. The two men sat near the wall facing him. Jake recognized one of them, the one who carried him. He recollected that particular golden-brown skin pigment when his cheek laid against the man's shoulder.

His rescuer spoke, "You might have twisted your ankle in the river, but I don't think there's much damage, I don't see swelling. I think you'll recover just fine. It looks like you've been running for a while, you're very weak. That's probably why you went unconscious in the water." His eyes passed over his friend, then back to Jake, "You should be lucky we spotted you when we did. We weren't planning on going to the river today."

"Thank you," Jake struggled to speak. His breath came and went with a wheeze.

Clearing his throat, his rescuer said, "My name is Victor, what's yours?" Victor was staring at Jake curiously, with fascination, but his voice was devoid of emotion. His short brown hair was wind-swept and messy, and he had a slim body. He was Latino and appeared masculine, however, with those piercing brown eyes, long eyelashes, and pink lips he was soft where it mattered.

"Jake," he said reluctantly. He couldn't look away from those big brown eyes. Only when he realized that the eyes were locked on him as well, did he move to inspect the other man.

Victor made the introduction, "This is my friend, Mark, he's like my little brother," he smirked playfully.

Though he was seated on the floor next to Victor with his legs crossed, Mark's full height was teased by the fact that he was looking down at his friend's face as he was introduced. Mark was slender with a slight build, his beautiful chocolate-colored skin reflected the glow of the fire with a satin sheen. His short, curly black hair was loosely styled into stubby twists. His plump lips cracked a warm smile, but as Jacob peered up into his eyes, there was a certain void in them. Almost like peering through pristine windows into a very dark and empty house. "I'm glad you're awake now, we weren't sure how long you would be out," the lips said, slowly abandoning the smile.

"He's younger than you?" Jake asked, breaking his fixation and turning to Victor. "But he's so tall."

"Yeah," Mark said shyly, his eyes blinking slowly between long intervals. So cold. "I'm about twenty, and Victor is about twenty-eight by now. How about you? If I had to guess, I'd say...twenty-three?"

Jake smiled politely, "Twenty-five, actually." He raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean when you say 'about'? Don't you guys know your birthday?"

Victor shook his heavy head, "No...after The End, things like the day, month, and year just really didn't matter anymore. We've never kept track since we've been on our own."

"How long have you been on your own?"

The two men thought for a moment. Mark was the first to answer, "Around twelve years."

"Jesus," Victor sighed, sitting back and wrapping his arms around his knees, "it's been twelve years?"

Jake looked over at Mark who nodded sadly. Then he pressed on, "Have you been alone all this time?"

Mark blinked thoughtfully, "Yes."

Dropping his eyes to the blanket around Jake, Victor explained, "The two of us were sent off to a camp, they promised we would be safe, but we heard horror stories about the one in the valley nearby. They're all the same, the camps, a collection of lost souls who survived The End. The camps are dominated by a patriarchal society where the weakest men are forced into labor, and the women are oppressed. We knew it would be a living hell, so we escaped before we arrived. There was a girl who came with us..." Victor's eyes became glassy, tears welled up and he quickly blinked them away. "That first year was very difficult. We were young and we didn't know how to survive on our own. She got sick, and we couldn't help her." A heavy-weighted silence fell over the three of them, Victor stared at the fire, the glimmer bouncing in his warm eyes.

It slowly sunk into Jake just what kind of situation the two men have been in all these years. Jake knew that the two of them had little to no contact with the outside world and the only people they could rely on were each other. They survived out here, alone and cut off from whatever remained of the ashes of society.

"What exactly were you running from?" Mark asked, cocking his head slightly.

Jacob had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from revealing too much, "I grew up at that camp in the valley." His eyes were still fixed on Victor's, "The men who run the place have very specific thoughts about why our world came crumbling down two decades ago. They think that by purifying the souls of the survivors, and raising the new generations as mindless zombies, they can rebuild society into something more pliable, more submissive to their intentions." A tear streamed down his cheek, "A lot of people are suffering in silence down there in that camp. Afraid to speak up, afraid to call out the leadership." He sniffed, "And with good reason." Jake squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, holding back the pain, "The three of you were right to escape. At least the girl got to live her last year with friends."

* * *

The fire popped and crackled, the crickets outside chirped, and the frogs sounded their song like a chorus in the night. This was the most peace that Jacob had felt all his life. The three of them had filled their bellies with a rather flavorless fish stew and the two men were fast asleep. With no herbs, spices, or even salt, the food was hearty but rather lacking.

He was lying on his back, between the two men. The cabin was small, barely long enough for them to stretch out, but not quite wide enough for the three of them abreast, at least not if you wanted to get a good distance from the stove so you didn't get too toasty in the night. Victor had previously explained that the cabin was probably the property of a lone hunter. The hunter has never returned here in all these years, he might have died during the events of The End.

Victor was closest to the fire, wrapped up in his brown blanket. He was laying on his side, turned towards Jake.

Jacob had insisted previously that he didn't need to share a blanket; that the fire would be enough to keep him warm. However, he felt like an idiot now, clutching his arms close to him as his skin became bumpy. Not realizing that the warming part of an open fire is the radiating heat, and when someone blocks the golden glow of the fire, you don't receive the same amount of warmth. Jake's teeth chattered.

Victor stirred, his eyes slowly opening and focusing on petite little Jake, who had nothing but the thin layer of clothes he wore. "Are you cold?"

Sheepishly, Jake nodded.

Victor's arm slithered from under the blanket and then lifted it open, revealing his bare chest. He motioned for Jacob to slide under it with him.

But Jacob was afraid to get too close. He feared that being so near to Victor would make his body react...make him excited. His teeth chattered again, and he realized there was still a long and chilly night before dawn. It wouldn't make any sense to keep punishing himself with the freezing air any longer. Jake slid closer, getting under the blanket, which then came down around him, surrounding him in an envelope of Victor's body heat.

With a deep inhale, and his eyes closed, Victor spoke softly into Jake's ear, "I'm sorry for this but we only have two blankets, and we weren't expecting any company." It was almost as if there was a smile in his voice, but it was concealed by an expressionless veil; the same that Mark hid behind.

"No, really, it's ok," Jake excused. He could feel that his arm was up against Victor's chest and stomach. Jake wanted to move his arm to respect his new friend's personal space, but his desire betrayed him. In the camp, such intimacy with fellow men would command a beating...and it was to get away from such things that he left in haste. At the camp, known homosexuals were killed, it was believed by the deeply faithful community that they were part of the reason society broke down. Furthermore, homosexuals don't reproduce and therefore have no value in today's survivalist civilization. As far as anyone was concerned, they were just perverted sinners, a waste of food and supplies. And that is why they are executed upon discovery. It was becoming more apparent to him that Mark and Victor did not grow up with this mentality, they didn't worry about meeting a sinner, they were just out here surviving. Jake's muscles were as stiff as a board.

"Mark and I will be gone in the morning, but you will see us again by mid-day," his breath caressed Jake's ear. His words were soft and faint, so as not to wake up the young man who lay facing away from them. "We have small game traps set up and we have to check them. Hopefully, we caught something big this time, so we can have ourselves a little feast."

Jake nodded uncomfortably.

"Do you know how to hunt?"

Jake shook his head, "I lived in the camp my whole life. They farm their food."

"Just as well," he concluded. "You can't get far on that ankle yet." He swallowed, half asleep. "Jake?"

"Yeah?" The skin on Jacob's arm was alive with every micro-movement of Victor's stomach as he inhaled and exhaled. He was trying to ignore the stirring of his own erection.

Sleepily, Victor replied with a breathy exhale, "It's good to see another face around here."

And like that, Jacob was the only one wide-awake, frozen with anxiety. He stared up at the weathered wood-board ceiling above, trying desperately to distract himself. It was apparent to him that keeping a distance in this cramped little box was not an option, if he moved away from Victor, he'd be up against Mark. Surely this gave him an excuse to lay still, didn't it? Feeling the gentle compression of his new friend's chest and belly, Jake's bulge began to stiffen and rise. He bit his lip, desperately trying to distract himself.

Victor's muscles continued to relax as he fell deep into slumber. His chin came to rest on Jacob's shoulder. Slowly, but with the determination of gravity, his arm slid off his waist, and came to rest on Jake's stomach.

Jacob simply lay there, too afraid to do anything at all, either to put an end to the physical contact or to draw attention to it. He was frozen in place within a stormy blizzard of both excitement and panic.

* * *

A warm afternoon breeze raked the leaf litter across the forest floor. Jake was sitting on a small boulder, breaking up twigs and dried grasses for fire kindling. He wanted to make himself useful while the men were out checking their traps. As productive as he was, his mind was elsewhere...focused on his memory of the night before. The chest that nudged his arm with every breath, the feeling of the tufts of hair around Victor's nipple that tickled his arm.

Jacob felt himself get hard; he closed his eyes. As the breeze swept across his face, he recollected the warm breath that brushed his ear and the soft but masculine voice that cracked as he spoke. Jake looked around to see if the men had arrived yet, and once he was certain he was alone, he pulled down his trousers. He shivered with excitement as the hard part of him was exposed. Placing his hand around his shaft he began to stroke. With his eyes half-closed he imagined what would have happened had Victor discovered his erection last night. He pictured Victor sliding his hand down his pants and grabbing ahold of his shaft with that firm grip of his.

Jaked moaned, the head became so sensitive now. Still, the men had not yet arrived. He imagined Victor behind him now, discovering the lewd act for himself. Then the man would put his arms around him, helping to stroke him; his fingers digging into his soft belly. Jake's rhythmic motion increased; he was close now. And before long, gobs of white cum spurted from him, landing on the soil below. As his contractions subsided, he heard chatter in the distance. Quickly moving to pull his pants over his softening shaft, he resumed his work preparing the kindling.

Victor and Mark were briskly making their way back to the cabin, one carried a gutted rabbit and a nutria, and the other was carrying a worn-out bag with a few heads of broccoli and a large dusty jug of fresh water. "We got ourselves a feast!" Victor called proudly to Jake.

"Is that broccoli?" Jake asked, squinting to see it more clearly from the distance. "Where'd you get it?"

Mark joked with a dry and blank expression, "Top secret!"

Victor set down the rabbit with a heavy thud on an adjacent boulder. "We maintain a crop on the next hill over, there is a natural clearing where our vegetables get sunlight." He takes a few heavy breaths, recovering from the trek. "That's where we catch the rabbits. They smell the vegetables from far off and they get stuck in our snares when they get too close."

"But...the vegetables...?"

"We got the seeds for several types of vegetables a long time ago," Mark explained. "There's a town in one of the valleys where some buildings still stand, the one family who lives there grows vegetables and herbs, and they raise goats. We occasionally drop in to exchange some freshly caught rabbits for seeds and supplies."

"If there's a family down there, why haven't you gone to live with them a long time ago?"

Victor sighed, "Not everyone is as nice and welcoming as we are." He plopped down next to Jake. "I have to finish cleaning our catch and then I'll start preparing it for dinner."

Jake nodded, "I saw the cabinet, I looked inside and found a few spices and herbs and salt. Now I know where you got them, but what I don't know is why you don't use them?"

Victor let out a boyish chuckle, "Because we're terrible at cooking." He covered his beautiful smile with his hand, "We ruined so much food, so, we gave up on using it!"

Jake realized that this was the first time he saw the two of them let down their guard since he'd first arrived at the cabin yesterday. They were normally expressionless and with a tough shell.

As the two of them laughed, remembering several incidents of over-seasoned food, Jacob thought for a moment then said, "I can cook." They both looked at him, their smiles still clinging to their cheeks. "Really," he said to them, "I know how to use spices too."

"Look at that, he can cook..." Victor said to his friend, and then he picked up some of the kindling, "...and he can collect and prepare tinder." He grinned satisfactorily, "You will fit in with us just fine."

"Especially because he can cook. Now I look forward to it."

Victor nodded in agreement. "Mark, you did most of the work today, you should take some time to yourself. Jake and I will handle dinner." Mark thanked him and immediately set off down a path into the woods.

"Where is he going?"

"Oh, he's got a hobby of his."

"What is it?"

Victor thought for a moment about how to describe it, "Art...I think. It's kind of silly, but it keeps his mind sharp and occupies his free time, so I don't bother him about it."

"What kind of art?"

He shrugged, "I don't know...you should follow him, ask him about it."

Jake slowly shook his head with his eyes on the ground, "He doesn't seem to want to talk much, I think I'd just interrupt him if I went down there after him."

"No," Victor said pulling dead leaves and pine needles off the rabbit, "Mark is always like that, he keeps to himself. But you're new here, I'm sure he'd be your friend very soon. You should go, I still have to clean these up a bit more, remove the skins, and then I'll start working on the fire."

Jake stood up and took a few careful steps, being cautious not to over-stress his bruised ankle. He started down the path, it was relatively flat, and it led to a boulder-strewn clearing further down the hill. As he made his way into the small clearing, he could see that Mark was already seated on one of the rocks, he had mud in one hand, and a flat nest of twigs in the other; laying on his lap was a cleaning rag. Mark was spreading the mud on the nest, smoothening it out into a nearly flat surface.

It was then that Jake could see colorful displays leaning against the boulders and tree trunks all around him. They were twig nests with artistic depictions of people, scenery, and even animals. Some of them were damaged by the rain from the day before. The colors caught the rays of sunlight streaming in from the forest canopy. The images were beautiful. "Wow," Jake whispered quietly as his eyes panned around the area.

Mark broke his concentration and glanced over with a double take. Surprised, he set the twigs down and shook the mud from his other hand before standing up. "Oh, I didn't expect you to come down here."

"Is it okay?"

He was staring into his eyes with that emptiness, and without blinking he simply said, "Yes."

Jake was leaning over to admire one of the pictures, it was a rough but colorful image of the river, surrounded by trees. Jake turned to ask, "How did..."

"H-how did I make these?" Mark stuttered, finishing his sentence. He stepped closer to point at the picture of the river. "I start by making a flat canvas of twigs, I spread the mud over it to make a surface...it's not perfect." He said pointing to the lumpy shape of the picture. "And then I use crushed leaves and press them into the mud," he said while walking over to several worn, plastic bowls filled with various colors of crushed and ripped leaves.