3. Chapter Three

three

Chapter Three

Adam

Adam could not believe what had just happened. His face was bright red and burning hot, and he clapped his hands to his cheeks. Did I really just catch Mason stroking himself? And … did I hear him say my name? Adam's cock stiffened just thinking about it, and he rubbed the front of his sweatpants a few times, then squeezed himself once. It felt good, but he couldn't let himself get carried away. Mason would be out of the shower soon enough, and God knew he didn't want to repeat that scene they'd just had.

Adam checked the thermostat. The heat pump seemed to be struggling in the weather. He also checked his phone, but the signal was completely gone. One reason his parents had loved this place in remote Montana was that it got no cell reception and no internet. There was a landline phone for emergencies, at least, but they enjoyed being away from the bustle of "connected life," as they called it. He'd attempt to call them later, to check and see if their flight from Chicago was going to make it out that day, but his priority right then was warming up the cabin.

While Mason showered, Adam built a fire. He stacked logs in the fireplace and tossed crumpled up paper and sticks from the kindling box underneath those, struck a match, and tossed it in. For a few minutes, Adam paced the small cabin, trying to decide what to do with himself. It was nearly Christmas and his gifts were ready for the exchange, but the cabin wasn't decorated at all. Maybe he'd go out and cut down a Christmas tree.

Yes, that's totally it. The family usually cut their own tree as a group, but the weather was so terrible he didn't see his parents wanting to enact the tradition this year. He could just hear his mom's voice. "Honey, by the time we can get everyone out to the lot and cut a Christmas tree down, it will be time to head back to Chicago. We won't even have time to decorate and enjoy it. Let's just skip it this year." It had happened before and he could imagine it happening again. But to Adam, Christmas wasn't really Christmas without a tree.

I'll go out to the clearing and find a tree, cut it down, and drag it home. It'll be perfect. Mason can help me decorate it. Mom and Dad will be so surprised when they get here.

Adam pulled out a map of the property and studied it. They'd planted a few dozen Douglas Fir trees in a small field when they'd bought the property and added a few more each summer. This was going to be perfect. He grabbed a notepad and jotted a note for Mason, who was taking what Adam thought might have been the longest shower in the world.

Going to the lot to cut down a Christmas tree. I'll be back in an hour or so. -Adam

Adam quickly dressed in his winter gear and left the cabin. Just outside was a tool shed, where he found a hand saw and a length of rope. Adam was practically giddy by the time he set out down the trail to the far end of the property. The wind had died down and the snow had lightened up significantly. There were still flurries falling, landing on his cheeks and nose, but nothing like the blizzard that had rolled through the night before.

Still, the ground was covered in a thick blanket of white, each step sinking several inches deep into the snow. The trip was harder than Adam had anticipated, and soon he was out of breath, hiking what was essentially directly uphill in at least a foot of snow. The trees were beautiful, weighed down in dazzling white.

Adam worked his way to the clearing, and after what felt like hours but was probably more like ten or fifteen minutes, he'd made it to the end of his family's land, where rows of Douglas Firs stood in varying heights. Adam wandered up and down the rows, eying the different heights of trees, trying to decide which one to cut.

Eventually, he chose a tree and gave it a good shake, the snow showering to the ground. Then he settled to the ground and began sawing. The first few cuts were the hardest, getting the groove started, but finally he managed to get into a rhythm and cut the tree. As he cut, his mind wandered to Mason again.

Is he into me? He almost kissed me last night. And the masturbating this morning. Not that that means anything. Most all guys jerk off, right? But didn't he say my name? Maybe I was hearing things. I was probably hearing things. He's straight, isn't he? I don't know anymore!

By the time the tree was ready to fall, Adam had built up a sweat. He gave the tree a little push and it toppled away from him. Then Adam stood and brushed the snow off his clothes as well as he could. He grabbed his length of rope and tied it securely to the trunk, just above the first few branches, to make sure it stayed on steadily rather than slipping off.

Adam hauled the rope over his shoulder and started off towards home. His first two steps were steady, but stumbled on something, wrenching his left ankle to the side. Adam felt a pop as he went down, crying out as pain shot up his leg.

Once he was on the ground, Adam righted himself a little so he wasn't face-first in the snow and attempted to wiggle his toes. They moved, but painfully. Te attempted to roll his ankle. Uh-uh. No way is that happening. The pain was too intense.

Adam sighed. Why did I come out here alone, dammit? All he could do was make himself comfortable and hope that Mason came looking for him soon.

Mason

Once out of the shower, Mason dressed quickly and sheepishly went into the living room. Adam was nowhere to be found, however, and Mason didn't have to face him just yet.

You fucking idiot, he thought. How could you be so ballsy as to jerk off without locking the door? And saying his name like that? He probably didn't hear over the sound of the water, right?

Mason checked the bedroom, but Adam wasn't there either. The fire crackled and popped in the fireplace—he couldn't have gone far. That's when Mason found the note on the coffee table, in the same spot they'd played poker the night before. Mason sighed.

"You fucking idiot," he repeated out loud, but this time talking about Adam. Why would he go on a hike in this weather without backup?

Instead of stressing about it, Mason went to the corner where the Christmas tree was usually put up and began moving things. He hauled the small end table and chairs away, moving them closer to the center of the room. He rearranged the furniture a little to make space and make sure everything fit together. He even went into the attic to pull down the decoration boxes. He worked at it for over an hour before he checked the time and realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Adam had been gone a while.

Before he had the chance to do anything, the landline phone rang. Mason answered it. "Hello?"

Adam and Drew's mom was on the other line. "Mason, honey, this is Linda. I wanted to check in on you boys."

"Yes ma'am, we're doing just fine. What's the plan with your flight?" He picked up the pen Adam must have used to jot the note and tapped it on the table.

"No flights in or out today, and it looks like the Chicago area is getting the front of the storm tonight. It should be really hitting hard tomorrow, so we probably won't make it out for another two days." She sighed. "I'm so sorry to ruin Christmas like this."

"It's not ruining Christmas. You'll make it when you make it. The roads are pretty rough up here, anyway. Best to wait a few more days." He flipped the paper with the note over and began doodling.

"Oh, Thomas, I hadn't thought about the roads. Mason says they're terrible." There was some murmuring on the line and Linda cleared her throat. "Mason, are you still there?"

"I'm still here."

"Okay, good. Well, you boys can call us if you need anything, and we'll do our best. Do you have food?"

Mason doodled a dick on the paper. "We have plenty. Don't worry about us." He sketched a body attached to the dick, proportionally much smaller so that the dick looked enormous.

"Good. Give my love to Adam. I'll call you boys tomorrow."

"Talk to you tomorrow."

The call ended and Mason looked at his doodle. He'd added a face near the dick and realized what he was doing. He crumpled the paper and tossed it in the fire. He glanced at the clock. He'd been waiting a long time, with no sign of Adam. Between his shower, rearranging the room, and the phone call, Mason hadn't seen Adam in two hours, maybe longer. He sighed and stood. Guess I'd better go find him .

He dressed in winter gear and headed out, grateful that the blizzard was passing. The trail was easy to find, and there were imprints where Adam had headed out, but none showing his return. A gnawing in the pit of Mason's stomach increased as he walked, with no signs of life anywhere. His ears only picked up the soft patter of falling snow and the crunch of it under his boots, until he paused for a moment.

There was a noise like someone calling out, muted by the snow.

Mason tilted his head to the side. Another shout from in the distance. He picked up the pace and rounded a turn in the trail, revealing Adam a few hundred yards away, at the opening to the tree lot, with a cut tree next to him.

Worry and relief battled inside of him as he jogged the distance and made it to Adam's side. "Dude, are you okay?"

Adam was bundled up in his snow gear, but his face was beaded in sweat. He shook his head. "Hurt my ankle. I don't think it's broken, probably just a sprain, but it hurts like hell."

"Shit, man. Let's get you back to the cabin." Mason squatted down and hauled Adam up onto one foot. "Can you walk?"

They tried to take a few halting steps, but Adam cried out in pain as he tried to put weight on his left side. He shook his head. "Nope."

Mason sighed. "Shit, give me a sec." I'm going to have to carry him. He let this thought sink in for a few moments before he accepted it. "Okay, I want you to climb on my back. I'm going to carry you."

"What about my tree?" Adam gestured to the Fir on the ground.

Mason snorted and shook his head. "Man, fuck your tree, you need to get indoors and get your ankle up."

"Fine." Adam didn't sound fine. "Come here and I'll climb on."

There was some jostling while they got into position, but eventually Mason got Adam stable enough to stand behind him, dipped down, and hauled Drew's little brother onto his back. Mason hooked his arms behind Adam's knees and Adam wrapped his own arms around Mason's shoulders.

"You okay back there?" Mason glanced over his shoulder.

"I'm, uh, great." Adam cleared his throat. "Never better."

With that, they trekked back to the cabin, Mason trying not to think about their bodies pressed together. He also tried not to fantasize about them doing something similar while naked. Or helping Adam care for his swollen, sore ankle. Naked. Or other swollen, sore things. Shit, stop it or you'll be carrying him with a hard dick at the same time. Oh, God, what if he was hard right now? None of his attempts at mental redirecting helped, just led him further down the rabbit hole so he shifted Adam higher on his back and paused. "You need to talk."

"Talk about what?"

"I don't give a shit, just talk to me. I need something to distract me from your heavy ass on my back." That's a lie.

Much to Mason's chagrin, Adam launched into Christmas carols, which he sang the entire piggyback ride back to the cabin.