E & E

A gay story: E & E Ethan finds his trip delayed after a heavy snowstorm in Nebraska keeps him overnight in a hotel with a man who does the opposite of testing his patience. Here, Ethan learns a few things about himself.

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thanks in advance for reading. this story is about 16,000 words, with a lot of build up to the sex. you can skip to that if you want, but I like establishing characters a little bit. please enjoy.

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I thinks it’s funny that I remember little things. Simple things that nobody really would think to recall. Like the fact that my father told me once, maybe twice, “Evan, don’t ever take a plane from a local airport.” Those podunk little local airports that you have to know about beforehand, or find out about through a friend. It’s not like I took this advice as sound, or had it at the top of my head, but as soon as I arrived in that tiny little Nebraska town and my Google maps was having a hard time with placing me, I knew I’d fucked up.

It began snowing around 11am. That should’ve been red flag number one that I should maybe halt my complicated plan to eventually end up in Vancouver for a trip with my friends before Thanksgiving.

I had seen snow before in Texas, but I knew it paled in comparison to the snow more up north. I decided to land in Nebraska to meet up with a friend before rerouting to meet with a group in the cabins. Before I knew it, Trent was canceling on me last minute as I landed in his state.

My father’s words ring in my head as I stand at the desk. The short woman behind it wears a sweater that’s too big. I want to say maybe she should get clothes that fit and maybe she wouldn’t be so cranky, but I realize that I’m the cranky one, and she’s just doing her job.

“I just want to get a ticket, ma’am. Even if you don’t think the plane will take off. If it happens to take off I don’t want to miss out on your ‘ticket-purchasing’ window,” I say through my teeth. “Please. I will pay three hundred dollars, I don’t care.”

In her Midwestern accent, she sighs and says the same version of what she’s been telling me since I got to the desk, “Sir, we are a local airport; tickets are usually significantly less. I do not feel that it is in good faith to sell you a ticket for a plane that is probably not going to take off due to inclement weather. Sir.”

“I swear, you do not have to feel guilty, because there is NO CONFIRMATION that the flight is canceled. Ma’am. So just let. Me get. My ticket. Please.”

“So that you can return it or exchange it and I can get you at my counter for round two? No thank you, Sir,” she stacks her papers. “If you want to purchase a flight for over twenty-four hours from now, I can help you with that.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go for tonight, for a flight for tomorrow. I want to just get a ticket for–”

The guy behind me chimes in, “She said she can’t do it, dude.”

“The flight isn’t officially canceled, ‘dude,'” I say over my shoulder. “Ma’am. Please. I can meet my friends in Vancouver by tomorrow if I leave tonight. I swear I don’t mean to be a pain.”

“Well, you’re bein’ one,” the guy says from behind me. The woman raises her eyebrows. I ignore the guy.

“I’ve worked here for twenty-one years, I am sure I know when a flight will be canceled due to the weather. I can’t help you.” As soon as she finishes her sentence an announcement comes over the PA.

“ALL FLIGHTS FROM PATRIOT HILLS LOCAL AIRPORT ARE EFFECTIVELY CANCELED FROM NOW, NOVEMBER 18TH AT 5PM THROUGH NOVEMBER 19TH AT 8AM, WITH UPDATES TO COME. WE ARE SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.”

The woman just looks me in the eye through the duration of the message, and I clench my jaw closed, gathering myself before quietly going to sit down. I don’t blame her for being smug as well as the tall guy behind me, and I immediately begin to regret my fussing with her for those few minutes. A series of unfortunate events, it seems. I thought planes flew in the snow. I look outside and see that the snow does seem to be sticking and falling a bit harder than before, but still spacey. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen a plane in this kind of weather.

“Are there any hotels around here?” the guy behind me asks very sweetly in a low voice, a stark comparison to my more frantic tone.

“There’s a flyer with a little catalogue over by the bathroom. I would call first, make sure they have something available,” the woman replies. I figure that’s probably my next move. I’ve decided that this local airport is not going to help me get to where I need to go, and seemingly is in the middle of nowhere anyway, with only about ten planes. The amount of detours I’ve planned for myself just to have Trent ditch out on me. I get angry all over again at the failure of my traveling thus far, but then calm myself down with the idea of a hot bath and a new plan starting tomorrow. I had planned to be a day late to Vancouver anyway, so I can still use up my time.

A little while after the sandy-blonde haired man grabs a hotel guide, I go to get one, and start with the phone calls. This is what just about everyone is doing in the lobby, all twenty something of us, it seems. Before long, I see people start to head out, and realize many of them must be locals who have called friends to come pick them up. I’m starting to lose hope that I’ll even be able to find a place to stay for the rest of the day, or until the snow dies down. The hotels have warned me that their influx of calls or reservations is high, and by the time I arrive they might not have rooms available.

I don’t know if this town is called Patriot Hills, or if that’s just the airport. Either way, the hotel that says it has four rooms left is forty minutes away, and the next Uber has the same arrival time. I sigh at the fact that it will take me at least an hour and a half to be able to settle down, but I decide this is my punishment for uprooting simple travel plans to meet with stupid, flaky Trent.

I’m one of the last people left at the airport, when I notice a couple leave, and I realize that the rest of the people there must be staying overnight, given their determination to get comfortable on the seats, or even the floor. I shake my head in disbelief.

My Uber arrives in forty minutes, and the trip to the hotel takes another fifty. At first, I’m wary that the snow is picking up so bad I can’t see anything, but then I realize there’s nothing to see. Just snowy, flat, country land. We travel on a straight road with few lights, and I briefly wonder if my driver has plans to kill me because of how he seemingly takes me nowhere, but he doesn’t seem that determined. When we pull up to the ‘hotel’, I realize that I’m definitely not in my element.

It’s a single building, long, straight. Kinda small. Two stories. It almost looks like a bowling alley. There’s only a few cars parked out front. I wonder if it’s more of a country-type bed ‘n breakfast, and feel myself get hungry. I only have some granola and half a bag of chips, some trail mix. I wonder if you can even order food out here.

My Uber drops me off without a word, and I trudge into the building with my big suitcase and carry-on. As I shake the snow from my head, I realize that it’s been coming down harder for the last hour and a half, and am glad with my decision to get warm and recoup.

As soon as I step into the lobby, the woman at the desk looks up, and gets a concerned look on her face. I look around, but don’t see anyone else except a man with a hoodie on, sitting down. “Hello,” she says timidly. She reminds me of the older lady at the airport, and I tell myself not to have a left-over attitude.

“Hello, ma’am. I called earlier? I didn’t make a reservation or anything, but I-I was wondering if you have a room still available? I have cash and everything. Or a check, or-or card–”

“I am… so sorry Sir. I just gave our last room up,” she says sadly. “We have a room that needs repair on the second floor, but it’s in bad shape.”

“I-I don’t mind! I don’t mind a fixer-upper, I just want somewhere to settle–”

She shakes her head. “It’s snowing in the room. The window, the roof… I’m sorry I couldn’t let you freeze in there,” she says. “But there was one young lady who might be leaving tonight, I should know in a few hours.”

I can tell I look defeated, and don’t know if I should start looking at other places, but given that there’s absolutely nothing surrounding the hotel, I don’t know how much luck I’d have. Not to mention the piling snow. “I… I don’t have anywhere to go… I’m not from here…I’ll even stay in the lobby.” I feel the words leave my mouth before I think about them.

I can tell she considers it. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she says. Then I hear a familiar voice.

“If you don’t care to room with a stranger, I don’t mind sharing a room for a few hours,” the guy says. His voice is deep, but smooth and gentle. I turn, and see the sandy-haired man from the airport. He sees my face, and I know he recognizes me too, because he turns red. “I-I mean… if there’s no issues. Because I don’t want trouble, I just know what it’s like to be kinda stranded,” he says softly.

“There is a pull-out sofa in the room,” the woman says with a shrug. “I know everyone is trying to escape the snow. I’ll offer a lower rate?”

“I… couldn’t do that to you. Impose. I don’t want to be a bother, I mean,” I say, testing the waters. The guy shakes his head.

“No. I don’t mind. As long as you’re not crazy, or something,” he says with a chuckle.

I look at the man to see if he’s sure, because I’m not seeing my options here, and I finally thank him. “I swear, I’ll just read my book and be asleep by ten,” I sigh. He shrugs. “I’m Evan.”

“I’m Ethan.”

I chuckle, “E names.”

“Meant to be,” he says with a laugh of his own.

We wait relatively quietly for the room to be ready, and finally an older man comes with the key. “You’ve got to go outside and around the corner a bit. Your room is all the way on the end,” he says to Ethan. We both thank him, and head out to room 6, at the end of the building.

“I… I’m sorry you saw me like that at the airport,” I say while we’re outside. Ethan looks at me curiously. “I didn’t mean to be one of those people. I’ve just had that kind of day.”

Ethan nods. “I understand.”

“I swear you didn’t offer your room to an asshole,” I chuckle. “I’m nice. Well. I try to be nice.”

Ethan smiles. “I believe you. But nice people don’t have to say that, you know.”

I just laugh, embarrassed, but we enter the room and I think the subject changes as a result. It’s small. Very small. There’s one bed, as promised, and one couch. Both very ancient. Ethan and I take in the view, the two-hundred-fifty or so square feet. There’s a small section of the room blocked off with curtains, and I think it’s one of those toilet-shower situations. There’s curved tile underneath. Ethan and I give each other a Look and then bust out laughing.

“Wow,” he says with a nod. “I kinda like it, you know? Got some character.”

“Love a good toilet-shower,” I nod. Ethan shakes his head.

“1950s bedcovers. Good stuff,” Ethan says. We both shrug again, and start to put our things down, and situate ourselves.

We’ve made small talk, and I found out that Ethan’s on his way down to New Mexico from Washington. I’m on my way up from Texas to Vancouver, with this being a not-very-smart detour. Ethan says he’s flown from this town’s airport before. As we chat, I realize the room is pretty cold, so I rummage through my bag for some sweats and a thicker shirt. Then we both end up staring out the window at the snow, seemingly picking up even heavier. It looks like a continuous round of confetti as it tumbles down. It’s about 8pm now. Really heavy.

“Kinda crazy huh? I wonder if we’ll even be able to head out tomorrow morning,” Ethan says, concerned.

“God, I hope so. I’d turn into that cranky asshole again. I don’t wanna miss this trip. Already missed my stupid friend,” I sigh, shaking my head. Then I get pissed again. I could’ve at least been staying with Trent right now.

“Stupid friend?” Ethan asks.

“Yeah… I basically only came to Nebraska for him,” I scoff, crossing my arms. “Whatever. Delayed my four-day vacation a day for his ass.”

“More than a friend?” Ethan asks. I’m taken aback, and I frown. He corrects himself, “I-I was just asking. I dunno. Doing a big detour for a friend… I figured its worth it for more than a friend but I dunno.”

My pause is too long as I think about my complicated feelings for Trent, and I’m wondering if it’s just dumb luck that Ethan asks.

“No. We just grew up together,” I say softly. I don’t think anyone has ever asked me anything hinting toward that, but it makes me jittery inside. I’ve accepted by now that I’m probably not totally straight–like maybe 95% straight–and haven’t been since I was probably 16 years old, at least regarding my romantic feelings. I’ve accepted that the rocky times of Trent and my friendship have been caused by jealousy on my part. For a long time, I would just wish for a girlfriend who treated me like Trent did. I told myself it was just an admiration of our friendship. Then when he got girlfriends, I found myself unable to be happy for him.

But since I’ve turned 25, I’ve realized I should keep him out of me sorting out whatever my romantic feelings may be, even if I’ve been sorting them for nine years. Sometimes I scare myself anyway. I realize I could like men, but I don’t think I should. For years I’ve just been wishing for the perfect girl to come around so I can stop fantasizing about being in a relationship with someone I could share clothes with.

“Oh. I get that,” Ethan sighs. “One time my brother stood me up in Chicago. I was so pissed. I didn’t talk to him for months.”

I think we’ve moved on from the subject. “I just prefer people keep their word,” I sigh.

“Me too,” Ethan says. He rubs at his eyes tiredly. They’re a light brown, kind of making him look like a peachy paint card with his tanned, textured skin, sandy hair, light eyes, freckles. And his big brown coat. I wonder what he does. He has big hands, even for someone who’s probably 6’2″ ish. “Ugh, that’s why I’m traveling across states… it’s whatever. What are we gonna eat? That’s the real question,” he says.

“Well, I have granola, chips, trail mix, and water,” I look around and only see a microwave. “We could try to order something before it gets too bad outside,” I suggest.

“I have some cheese and crackers, juice, beef jerky,” Ethan says. “I don’t know if anyone would deliver here, honestly.”

“For now I’m good to snack on what we have,” I shrug. Ethan agrees. “I’ll just be extra hungry in the morning.”

We decide to put our food together, and I’m glad that he’s willing to share. For a stranger who saw me at my most irritated, he’s nice enough to me. We take in the quirks of the room, the antique touch of it all. The fine line between outdated and ancient. We find a little radio, and turn it onto some station playing old swing and blues and country softly in the background. It’s like we’ve really traveled back in time. I don’t see any sign of a heater, and wonder if the managers control the temperature. It’s a bit too cold for me to sleep comfortably, especially on the couch, but I suspect they’ll have it toastier soon.

My phone is dying, and my charger, of course, decides not to work. Luckily Ethan lets me borrow his, even though I’m pretty sure his phone is dying too. It hits 11-something, and I’m surprised at how easy it is to chat with Ethan. We don’t seem to have much in common, but I like hearing about his past. He’s 29, living alone in Seattle. He has an office job with a tech company and a blue-collar job, working on construction in his neighborhood. He’ll be 30 on Christmas day.

“I think I would hate to have a holiday on my birthday,” I say.

Ethan shrugs. “I’m not big on birthdays anyway.”

“That’s ’cause yours has always sucked, dude. It’s on Christmas day? You’ve never had a real birthday,” I comment. Ethan seems amused by my passion, and leans in sarcastically as I explain. “I know that a lot of people don’t like birthdays for whatever reason… but your reason is tragic. Truly. It’s like it’s everyone’s birthday, everyone’s getting gifts.”

“I do not care about gifts,” Ethan says with a chuckle. He sits on the bed as I occupy the couch, still munching on a combination of crackers, cheese, beef jerky, raisins, and peanuts.

“You deserve to be celebrated,” I say.

“How would you know what I deserve?” Ethan asks, intrigued.

“Everyone deserves something good,” I say matter-of-factly. “I know I do, hell. Especially after today.”

Ethan shrugs. “Can’t argue with that, I guess. Everyone deserves something good,” he repeats. “I’ll remember that.”

“Please do. Comes in handy.”

Ethan and I talk until the midnight hour about the most random things, keeping it light. When he finds out I’m in real estate, he says it’s typical, because I don’t seem to take ‘no’ for an answer. It feels nice to tell him what I do. I feel new to the business, and Ethan’s candid confidence in me makes me feel like he’s impressed with me. I only notice that it’s 1am when Ethan yawns. I figure it’s time to hit the hay if I’ll be leaving by 8:30 tomorrow to catch an expensive Uber to the more expensive airport.

“Damn, I guess we should look for the extra set of covers,” Ethan says sarcastically, knowing there’s probably nothing. I doubt calling at 1am would yield results, and Ethan volunteers the second blanket on his bed for me to curl up with, and I figure that one night of shivering is worth it when tomorrow I’ll be in the comfort of a hot springs cabin.

“Well. Thanks for letting me crash with you tonight,” I say as I curl up. Ethan flicks the lamp off.

“Can’t say I minded at all. Goodnight, Evan.”

“Goodnight, Ethan.”

—————————————

My alarm wakes me up at 6:30am so I have plenty of time to see if there’s an Uber to take me to the airport, but all I see on the app is delays, and rides saying they’ll take an hour. I keep refreshing the app, trying to mask my frustration, but by 8am I’m panicking. Ethan probably has heard me rustle about for a bit by now, because he wakes up quietly, and gets on his phone.

“Morning,” I say briefly.

“Morning to you,” Ethan says with a yawn.

“Sorry it’s early,” I sigh. “Trying to get this damn thing to take me on my trip.”

“Mmm, understandable.”

I give up and decide there’s gotta be some kind of bus or ride service that comes to this area, because it’s a hotel. “I’m gonna talk to the front desk, see if there’s a bus or something.”

“Smart,” Ethan nods. He watches me bundle up, and I zip up my coat as I try to open the front door. The only door. At first I think it’s locked, even though I swore I unlocked it. Then I realize it’s frozen, and grunt in frustration. I do my best to tug at the handle, and start yanking. “Let me help,” Ethan says. He joins me at the door, hands interwoven with mine as we yank at it on many counts of three, and when we hear the door seem to crack away, we both cheer in excitement.

“One, two, three!”

We crack the door away and it swings wildly.

Just to reveal a pile of snow stacked flat against the frame, almost as tall as me.

Ethan and I just stare, wondering if it’s real. Ethan pokes his finger into it, and it’s packed tight, heavy. Just from a look, I can tell that the snow has made itself a very thick layer, at least 5’8″ inches tall, and probably a few feet in front as well. “Uh… I dunno if you’re gonna… be able to get out…” he says softly.

“What the fuck.”

“How is this possible?” Ethan asks. “This should’ve taken days to pile up like this. Must’ve been a blizzard for the whole night. I think it’s still coming down a little.”

“What the fuck,” I repeat, just staring at the wall of white in front of me.

“Maybe you can go out the window?” He suggests. I instantly do a 180 and walk toward the window, when my face shrinks again. The snow seems just as tall on that side, and like it goes out for a mile. I’d just fall, and get stuck.

“I’m gonna call the desk,” I say softly.

Ethan doesn’t seem in a rush, and I figure he probably doesn’t have anything to do until later. I’ve accepted that I’m not going to make an afternoon flight, but I’ll see about the evening. The desk phone rings, and rings, and rings, before I hear the fragile voice of the old woman. “Hello, Montgomery Inn.”

“Hello! I um… I’m actually roomed here already. I’m in room six and, um, there’s a ton of snow piled up? All in front of the door, the window. I-I guess I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, like… do you have a snow crew? Or-or someone to shovel us out of here?” I ask with a subtle laugh. The lady laughs back, but hers seems sad.

“I’m so sorry dear. We are working on it as fast as possible. We just haven’t had a snowstorm like this since 2003 and… well we haven’t really had to do anything about it before.” Then she pauses.

“Well… what-what are you going to do about it?” I ask.

The lady explains. “Well, dear. We can’t always afford the services we need… I’ll have to take a look around to see who can do us a favor.”

“I’m sorry, a favor? It’s shoveling snow, it’s state responsibility…”

“Well, dear–” she starts. If I’m called ‘dear’ again, I might lose it, “I have contacted the county and they’ll send some boys to have a look, but no guarantees today, dear. We’re in a busy season, and we usually have a few boys to move the snow. But it seems like we had a doozy last night… I think some heavy machinery is needed. There’s four doors with a pile now. It’s gonna take a while to melt.”

DUH. I do my best to stay calm, because Ethan is looking at me curiously, and I’d hate for him to see me getting upset with another old woman. “I understand, Miss… Manager… but I-I have a flight to catch and it’s impossible for me to even leave the room, let alone get on the roads, so–”

“Right, dear. It’s dangerous. I would stay inside unless you’ve got a shovel,” the lady says. I can feel my jaw clench.

“So we can’t leave the room today. At all,” I say quietly to confirm. Ethan looks concerned.

“If you can’t, I wouldn’t try,” the lady says.

“That’s not what I’m say–nevermind. Thank you,” I say quickly before I get too upset, and I hang up. I’m sure Ethan understands context. “They’re a country ass town and ‘the boys’ aren’t here to help, so.”

“We’re stuck until further notice. Or until we dig ourselves out,” Ethan says.

“I have no desire to dig through that. I wanna go to Vancouver but not that bad. You don’t seem in a rush,” I comment.

“I’m not,” Ethan says. He wraps himself in the blanket and sits back on the bed. “And… unfortunately I don’t think you’ve got too many options right now. Might as well get comfortable. Maybe they’ll have someone here this afternoon.”

By Miss Manager’s halfway-halfwit tone, I doubt that we’ll even have someone help us by today. I start texting my group chat with the update on my situation. I guess two out of four days isn’t bad. Maybe two and a half days if a miracle happens. I wonder what the other patrons are doing. I wonder how we’re gonna eat.

I feel wholly embarrassed to step onto the dipped tile squares and maneuver the heavy curtain around just to take a piss, but when Ethan seems just as flustered, it somehow makes me feel better. At least we’re going through this freak situation together. I’m genuinely happy that I’m not alone, even though I wish I were with Trent instead. We chat some, but mostly end up just laying back down. I think I pass out for a little bit, and so does Ethan.

I kind of feel bad for not talking, but I get frustrated with every passing minute, which quickly turns into hours as we sit and wait. It’s one o’clock before we know it. I play on my phone, Ethan seems to be invested in a book.

“I’m surprised you have service,” Ethan says. I shrug. So am I. “I can barely keep a single bar.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway. Not like I can call the local snow patrol.” I could call Trent. I don’t know where he is in relevance to me, or if he’d actually help, but–nah. Not worth the hassle. Plus, what could he do?

Reality sets in by two pm, and I decide to call Lucie and Beau and tell them my situation over the phone, because texting just sounds like a lot of spaced out replies, and I’d rather get it over with and mope. My friends genuinely sound upset that I’m stuck, and I was hoping their sincerity in missing me would make me feel better, but I just feel more sad. Beau even mentions the fact that I was basically the one who planned this trip and got us great deals, and it definitely makes me feel worse. Then I think they are heading out for day drinks, and Lucie tries to be as nice as possible, so I let them go. I look out the window at the white bed of snow, and then I catch Ethan staring.

“You look sad. I’m sorry about your trip, that really sucks,” he says when I look over at him.

“Thanks. It really does.” I cover my face with my hands. “Sorry you have a sad, mopey, bummed out roommate that you didn’t ask for,” I force a laugh.

“I mean, I kinda did ask for this,” Ethan shrugs. “Didn’t know we would be stuck in the wildest snowstorm I’ve ever seen but, hey. Somebody has got to come around sometime soon to get this snow out of here. We’ve gotta be near a major highway.” He smiles softly, and I feel myself relax a little. Maybe he’s right. We can’t just be stranded in a building forever. Maybe it’ll just be a little slow compared to the city. “You know? I happen to have cards. I also have a puzzle, and a word search. Why don’t you set up Speed, and I’ll call the old lady to see if there’s anything to eat?” Everything about Ethan is warm, comforting. He seems like he’s trying to calm me down, when he’s just doing what anyone else would do. I nod in response, and he smiles gently, hopping off the bed to hand me some cards and hop on the phone.

“Hello? Hi, this is Ethan Jacobson, staying in room 6. Yes. Yes–we are both here. Stuck, yeah. I-I was actually calling about possibly getting some food? How does that work because, well… we need to eat in the meantime before the shovels get here. We’ve been up since six… Yes ma’am.” Ethan works some magic on the phone, or at least it sounds like it, and I decide to set up Speed like he says, and flick the radio on again. I can’t help but admit some tiny part of me is wondering how this is going to go, and is maybe a little excited at the prospect of being snowed in. It’s completely unpredictable. I would much rather be other places, and this is possibly the worst place–scratch that, the airport would be the worst–but Ethan seems like he has more interesting things to say, and he’s unbelievably nice.

I wonder how boring life has been thus far that I’m actually a little fascinated that nature’s trapped me in a 250 square foot box with a stranger. I figure if I make it out by this evening, or even tomorrow morning, I’ll get two days of my trip, and have an interesting story for my friends. Maybe I’ll just stay an extra day by myself after they head out, and enjoy the cabin. Goodness knows I’ve needed a vacation, any vacation, for a while now.

“So,” Ethan says to me, “we should be ‘on the lookout’ for some food, I guess. The owners feel bad but they’re working on it, I guess.”

“And I’m assuming they’ll get it to us by… plowing through the snow? I don’t get it.” I sigh, running my hand through my hair. Ethan sits on the bed with the cards between us. “I still have some granola.”

“I’m not picky,” Ethan sighs.

We play some rounds of Speed, and he wins most of them, but I get my few victories. I feel like a kid again, getting invested in the competition. At some points we take a mutual pause, playing on our phones and listening to the music, but then someone will pick up the deck again and start to shuffle, and we’re back to it. I feel like we do that for hours. Ethan recants some stories about being stranded in the woods.

“I was a Boy Scout leader. Eagle Scout, eventually. Very devoted. But yeah I got lost a few times. One of the last times, I was about seventeen, trying to impress some girl… we ended up with dead phones, muddy, side-of-the-highway… it was not good at all,” he laughs, and sorts his cards as I lay mine down. I’m probably going to win this round. “She didn’t wanna see me again. Called me ‘worm-boy,’ told the school I tried to get us lost on purpose to kill her.” He rolls his eyes.

“Fuck that girl, really,” I scoff. I don’t even think I have an equivalent story of trying to impress a girl. Maybe something from college, but nothing to those lengths. I’m stuck on my hand full of threes and a jack and two, while Ethan seems to get past his slump and go through his deck. “But… I mean if you are a killer in disguise just know… you’re not gonna be able to hide the blood that easy in the snow, so don’t try anything.” Ethan lays down some cards quickly and I try to put mine down, but he slaps his last cards down onto the deck, pinning his hands on top of mine.

Ethan chuckles. “I assure you, I don’t even have an escape plan here. And you’re not my usual victim,” he jokes, then he winks. “I win.”

That wink does something to me that I decide to chock up to hunger, and I realize his warm hands are still enveloping my own on top of the mess of cards, some scattered. They’re bigger than my hands, a little scarred, but soft. Clean fingernails.

That’s when I hear a thump at the wall, almost like someone knocks. Our hands depart. Then I hear two more, and Ethan and I stare at each other. We just wait, until we hear another thump, and then I hop off the bed to stand at the wall. I thump back twice. Then the person thumps again, so I do the same.

“Creepy?” Ethan asks.

“They might be stuck too,” I comment. Then we hear someone yelling outside, and I run to the window, opening it. The snow seems to pile up right at the ledge of the window. The screen is halfway broken.

“Hello? Hello? I’m in room five!” a woman shouts.

“We’re in room six!” I yell back.

“Oh God, someone can finally fuckin’ hear me!” she yells. “My room phone is broken, I-I’ve been stuck for hours, panicking; do you have a sweater? I’m so cold over here! Can you lean out the window?” She does sound frantic. I decide this little motel can charge me for the screen if they really want, and push out all the edges of it.

“Yeah I’m gonna do that right now,” I call back. Ethan brings over the only chair in the room, and I stand on it to push half my body out of the 36″ window. I can basically rest my elbows on the snow without sinking deep, and I immediately spot our guest, probably about fifteen feet away, leaning out the window and onto a blanket. She has on a single layer shirt, thin. A woman in her thirties, maybe, or early forties.

“Hi! Oh god hi! I’m Jennie! Do you have a sweater? My luggage got lost, my phone is dead–room and cell.”

“I’m Evan,” I say, my elbows stinging in the cold. “Ethan can you grab a sweater from my bag? Not the blue one, or the TSU one, or the hoodie,” I ask, looking back. Ethan nods, and gets to searching. “You must be frozen.”

“I didn’t sleep,” Jennie chuckles. “Do you guys need some cans? I don’t have my bags… my son said he’d bring ’em; of course the snow hit. But I’ve got some cans for a drive that’s… probably not gonna happen. I have some soup if you want?” Jennie seems to disappear back inside, as if she’s answered her own question.

“Did she say soup?” Ethan asks, and it’s like I feel my stomach growl. Maybe it WAS hunger. She comes back quickly with two cans of something that she tosses my way, and I’m surprised they land so close. I’m afraid that the sweater won’t reach the same luck. Ethan luckily picks out the sweater I debated bringing the most, because I don’t necessarily like it. He also throws in a sweater that I’m assuming is his, and I ball them up to toss them Jennie’s way. She has to reach a bit, but she grabs them, and lets out relieved and gleeful sighs.

“Thank you so, so, so, so much,” she says. “I don’t have any bowls, sorry. Is it just you in there? I’m alone.”

“No, I’m with… a friend. Ethan come here,” I wave him over. “We were in the airport… how do you have cans?” I look at both the chicken tortilla and tomato garlic alphabet soup, two unordinary choices.

“Oh, I wasn’t in the airport. I live an hour from here. I was going to a food drive set for today. Had the nerve to think I’d beat the worst of the snow if I went the night before.”

“A series of unfortunate events lead me here,” I chuckle.

Jennie explains her situation, and I don’t go into detail about mine, and Ethan briefly pokes his head out to say hi.

“You two are so cute. Well. I’m gonna finally get some sleep and let you get back to whatever you were doing. My room is an ice box. I think the room above it is busted.” Jennie talks so quickly, I almost miss what she says.

“T-thank you?” I say, and she says goodbye, and she’ll knock if she needs us after another series of ‘thank you’s’. Vice versa.

I hop back inside, and close the window, realizing I’ve probably made it cold in the room. What an interesting way to get some food today. Ethan and I look through bags for the next step in consuming our first meal of the day. He’s found some takeout cutlery packs in his bag. I find cups in mine.

“Did she say we were a cute couple?” Ethan asks with a laugh. That sure makes my cheeks flush.

“Just that we were cute. I don’t know what she meant,” I sigh, then change the subject. “I happen to have a few cups because I thought I’d grab coffee or something, and I think we can put them in the microwave for this soup.”

“And you said ‘thank you,'” Ethan says, giving me a funny look, with a funny smile. I roll my eyes and shake my head, looking through my pockets for my keys, so we can open these cans. Then I realize I don’t have my pocketknife, because I thought I’d be on a plane.

“That amuses you?” I ask with a sarcastic laugh. Ethan shrugs. “I mean, I’m the cute one, so. She was probably just being nice,” I tease.

“Mm, so now I’m chopped liver, huh?” He’s playing this in a weird way. Like if I keep joking, I might sound like an asshole, but if I try to say anything about what I actually think of his looks, it could open a can of worms. I could call him ‘worm-boy’ and end it right now. That’s what I’m gonna do.

“Worm-boy, just let me be the cute one. You be the hot awkward one.” I think my eye twitches at my own words, but I just keep looking in my bag. I forget what I’m even looking for at this point. “Who is also unnecessarily nice.”

Ethan pauses, then he chuckles a bit. “I’ll take it.” He seems to find something interesting, and he tosses it on the couch. “Awkward.” I pick up the corkscrew, and decide it’s a good place to start while Ethan continues to look for something else to open the cans. Half an hour later, we’ve worked magic with the corkscrew, a real screw, and our various sets of keys. We heat two cups of soup at a time, and I’m impressed by the time we’ve figured things out to eat. We both take one helping of each kind, and I’ve never been more happy to eat alphabet soup.

I’m entertained enough, and full and satisfied, until I notice the sun directly in the window, and check the time. It’s 5:27pm. I look up the weather, and the sunset will be at 5:38pm. I shake my head sadly. We’re not getting out tonight. “I’m gonna call the desk again,” I sigh.

“I doubt anything else will happen,” Ethan says. I know he’s right.

“Then I’ll call the cops?”

“I’m sure that’s happened, too. And they’d just have to call the county… I’m from a small town. I know how things go,” Ethan explains.

“I shouldn’t even fuckin’ be here. No offense. But goddamnit, I should be on ski resort snow, not hillbilly Nebraska, mile long, ain’t-got-nobody-to-call snow,” I complain. “I’ve planned this trip for a year now. This sucks.”

“Your southern drawl came out,” Ethan says.

“I’m mad. Fuckin’ Trent… should’ve just said I wouldn’t see him. Asshole.”

“It’s kinda his fault,” Ethan chimes in, and I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic. “He dragged you out here just to make you waste a day.”

I shrug. “I mean… kinda? I shouldn’t have come all this way to spend one day with someone I knew was a flake, but he really should’ve made sure he could see me. W-we confirmed it and everything. I wish it didn’t piss me off so much.”

“You deserve to be pissed,” Ethan says. “He’s probably in his warm, cozy house with his dumb dog or whatever, drinking a room-temperature beer, scratching his ass, thinking about how the snow is just a minor inconvenience to him and his plans to bet on some fantasy football game. And you’re here with Worm-Boy, almost slicing your fingers open on cans of soup and peeing in the shower with no way out.”

I can’t help but crack up at Ethan’s simplification of our situations, and his kinda accurate assumption of Trent. He continues, “You came from Texas, where 50 degrees is considered cold, just to get eaten by the Abominable Snowman in Nebraska for a motherfucker who ditched you last minute. That’s fucked. I think you can be a little angry, ya know?” He raises his brows. I shrug in agreement.

“Are you the Abominable Snowman?” I ask.

Ethan scoffs, “Maybe I am. Should I eat you?”

Not hunger this time. I gulp something down, maybe my vulnerability, and try to ignore the fact that anything Ethan says actually sounds good to me. He seems to talk with his whole face, his soft light brown eyes always prompting me for a response, or reading me. I try to think of something quick, but I’m pausing for too long. This has only happened a few times. Mostly with Trent. I watch That’s the little 5% of me that knows I would… I would…

Ethan must sense my awkwardness, and he continues. “I can wait. Maybe on day 13, when we’re starving, and the snow is 12 feet high, and you’re inevitably dying first. Then I’ll chow down.”

“Thanks for the courtesy,” I say, waving him off. “But I’m definitely crawling through Jennie’s window before I ever let that happen. But really… fuck Trent.”

“Have you ever?” Ethan asks plainly, dealing cards again.

“What?” I ask.

“I’m kidding. Just askin’. You know how to play anything else? Blackjack, or spades?”

“Yeah,” I reply softly. “Why are you pressing me about him?” I ask.

Ethan shrugs, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem that way. I just… ” he sets the cards down. “I’m going to New Mexico to break up with my girlfriend. She’s… being very not-great about it.”

I’m confused. “Your girlfriend knows you’re going to break up with her?”

Ethan nods. “We’ve lived states away for just over a year out of a three-year relationship. I’ve tried setting up FaceTime calls, just times to talk. I think she knows what’s coming; she just… she said if I have something ‘this important to tell her,’ I need to do it in person and she’ll refuse to accept anything that I don’t say face-to-face.” Ethan sighs, running his hands through his dark, only slightly wavy, sandy-blonde hair, and shakes his head. “I know what it’s like to go so far out of your way for someone who means a lot to you, but maybe doesn’t deserve it. Maybe I haven’t let it on as much, but… I’m not excited to be here either. But in a way… I kind of like having to put this off. I don’t know why Madison is acting like she won’t give me the same reaction in person as she would over the phone.”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “Doing all this just to end up alone is… almost worse than missing a ski trip.”

Ethan laughs, and his smile is infectious. “No, I’m not alone. But thank you. This breakup will be almost as bad as missing the trip. Maybe a little less bad.”

Ethan deals out the cards, and the phone rings. I immediately hop off the bed and rush over, swiping it off the hook. “Hello?”

“Hello, Ethan Jacobson?” the old woman asks. I roll my eyes.

“This is he,” I say quickly, a lie. “What’s the update?”

“Yes, I’m calling to say that um, we are working quickly and efficiently to get someone to help with the snow, but we will have to wait until they send someone, and it will not be today.” I sigh. I figured that. “But, we have some meals that we’re working on getting to you all by the end of the night. My grandson has a phone–wait–a drone.”

“A… drone?” I ask. Ethan looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Sorry, we’re getting meals with a drone?”

“Yes, a creative solution, be on the lookout! Again, Mr. Jacobson I apologize. Have a good rest of your night,” she says. Then she hangs up. I stand there with the phone against my ear.

“We’re getting food with a drone,” I say, hanging up. “Whatever that means.”

“It means we are officially in the Twilight Zone,” Ethan huffs. “It gets better though.” He reaches in his bag. “I remembered I have strong edibles I was gonna take on the plane. And in whatever Airbnb I was gonna be at. So before we get this care package of snacks, we can get very, very high.”

My jaw drops. “Ethan. Ethan, Ethan, ETHAN. You have made my entire day.” I close my eyes and shake my head. “Bless you. Really.”

Ethan pulls out a pack of edible cookies, and hands me one and a half of them. “I’m gonna shower, you enjoy this, and we’re gonna make the best out of this weird ass night.” He smiles to himself, looking through his bag and gathering shower materials. I’m surprised the room has towels, and soap. The tip of his nose is slightly red, along with his pronounced cheekbones, and his lips. He must be cold. I wonder if the water will do us any justice. I don’t hold onto hope for that one, as I can basically hear Ethan shivering, and he moves very quickly. I can’t help but wonder what his body looks like. He seems fit enough, but nothing major. He’s kept his change of clothes close to the tile, and I feel creepy for even desiring a peek at him. I remember that I’m supposed to take my edible, and munch it down quickly.

By the time Ethan’s dried, dressed, and out of the shower, I’m hopping in while the last bit of sunlight illuminates the room. I hear the music turn up, and it’s been background noise this whole time, but now I feel it setting a good mood for me. Even the water seems warm, and then I realize that’s because it is. “I think you warmed it up for me,” I say aloud.

“Damn, jealous. Maybe I should hop back in with ya,” I hear Ethan call back. I know he’s joking, but this time my body tells me to take a damn hint, and my cock begins to swell instantly. Before I know it, I’m in the 4′ by 4′ shower-toilet—shoilet–with my six inches on hard, and I have to accept the fact that something about Ethan makes me horny, even when I know he’s joking. If I’m straight 95% of the time, I’m gonna have to accept that there’s that little 5% that’s gonna involuntarily surface sometimes. A high-stress situation with a good-looking stranger who effortlessly calms me down is a perfect storm for my little feelings of curiosity to tick up. No consequences here. I just have to either get rid of this erection, or wait for it to go away. Or hide it somehow. I wash up quickly with my eyes closed, scrubbing off the last day and a half of frustration and upset.

The water gets a spurt of cold again, and I think it’s going to revert back to a chill any minute, and that causes me to soften up a little. I decide my best bet is to hope Ethan doesn’t notice. The bottoms of my pants get wet, but it’s not enough to change. I do notice the coolness of the room, though. I feel clean and bundled up by the time I’m sitting back on the bed, and Ethan seems content.

“These edibles might take a while to hit. What do you wanna do in the meantime?” Ethan asks. I shrug.

“I have some internet, and I always download like twenty movies before any trip. We can watch one?”

Ethan agrees, and we’re looking through Netflix films as the sun goes down past the hill. We flick the lamp on and decide to watch Silence of the Lambs on my iPhone 8 Plus.

“I’ve never seen this,” Ethan says. I give him a shocked look. “It’s one of those I haven’t gotten to yet. Actually, I haven’t seen a crazy amount of classic movies. So if you–”

“I’m going to make you watch a lot of movies, Worm-Boy,” I say, clicking my tongue. “Damn, this isn’t even a good one to start with… what haven’t you seen?”

“…I haven’t seen anything, it seems. You’re gonna be mad at my list. Just say a movie and I’m sure I haven’t seen it.”

“We’re gonna watch ‘Back to the Future,'” I decide, and Ethan smiles, agreeing with a nod.

“Sounds great. Never seen it.”

“We have at least another twelve hours in here, guaranteed. So we can watch, what, five movies?” I shrug. “Or maybe we’ll just watch one hour of twelve different movies and cut it off no matter what, and you’ll have to finish the rest on your own.”

“Oh, maybe we’ll watch movie trailers, and you just explain the plot to me,” Ethan jokes.

“I’ll actually just find the scripts online, and make you read them aloud,” I retort.

“Settled. I will start up my acting career in this ice box in Nebraska on the brink of thirty.”

As I wait for the movie to get past some buffering, I get settled on the bed, sitting against the wall and covering my feet with the blanket. “Trent and I used to go to the movies almost every weekend. And if we couldn’t go–too broke, or had to stay home–we found a movie to watch that we hadn’t seen before. For years we were in the theater. Trent even worked there.”

“I love that. I wish I’d done something like that when I was younger,” Ethan says with a sigh. I set the movie between us, and we watch.

Forty-five minutes in, and I’m sure the edible is hitting, because I feel completely absorbed in the movie, as if nothing else is around me. I almost forget where I am, even. Then the telephone rings, and both Ethan and I jump. He’s closest, so he reaches over to grab it. I’m definitely high.

“Hello. Yes, this is he–oh? Yes two of us here, still–the window?” he looks at me, then the window, which we can’t see much of anything out of. I get up from my position, and stretch as I walk over. “Oh wow, thank you, thank you. Yes I think he’s checking now.” I raise my eyebrows curiously and open the window to see what looks like a literal war device with a big plastic bag hovering outside. It looks like it’s struggling to stay up, even, and I grab the bag, and the propellers blow dusty snow into my face. I have to untwist it from the hook on the drone. This literally feels like a movie, like some part of Back to the Future has projected into our lives here. Instantly, I smell good food, and Ethan must smell it too, because he starts thanking the woman on the phone profusely. I set the bag on the table, and realize it’s hot. Ethan joins me to stare at what seems to be two very large takeout containers, and we look at each other with the same excited look on our faces.

Once I see the contents inside–a hearty, homemade turkey meal, almost like Thanksgiving–I feel my mouth water.

“I’m almost glad we’re stuck,” I whisper, staring at the full plates. A meal for each of us. The food is touching, but I don’t even mind. Ethan closes his eyes and tosses his head back.

“I could cum just by LOOKING at this food,” he sighs. “This might be a good night.”

“I just got weed and a home-cooked meal because nature decided to get me stuck. It’s a good night indeed.” I find my spoon from the soup earlier, and me and Ethan sort out napkins. I’ve never been so happy to eat cross-legged on a bed with a stranger.

The first bite of food has Ethan and I moaning happily and humming as if we’ve had our first meal in days. That’s what it feels like anyway. The owners outdid themselves here, even if they can’t get us out of this snow. I decide to put my feelings about missing half my trip on the backburner, and enjoy the hell out of some homemade mashed potatoes.

I can’t even eat all of the food they sent, and decide that I’ll eat some later tonight if I get hungry, but with all the butter, I think I’ll be full for a while.

Ethan and I happily watch the movie, and by the end, we’re sluggishly watching the credits roll.

“I’ve seen so many references from that movie and I didn’t even know it,” Ethan says, head tilted and eyes lazy. He looks at me. “Wow. What’s next?”

“Wow? What’s next? No breaks for you?” I tease. Ethan shrugs, and hops of the bed, heading to the shoilet.

“Just a quick pee,” he says with a laugh. “Pick out the next one. I’m in a movie mood.” I can see his eyes are slightly glazed over, and I smile to myself. This feels comfortable, like a night in with myself, but Ethan’s here. And also some great food. If I were at the slopes, we’d probably be getting drunk, trying to go to a crowded bar, getting annoyed at Uber prices.

I’d be a fifth wheel.

Tonight, two’s company, and I’m glad that company is Ethan.

I pick out Fargo, and decide it’s fitting because of the snow, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, to give Ethan a choice. I lay on my side as I wait for Ethan, and try to make sure the movie loads enough. It’s going on nine o’clock already. It’s crazy how time flies. I didn’t think we’d done much of anything to waste the day, but here we are. Tomorrow morning, I’ll make sure to tell Ethan we should keep in touch if he feels like it, and I’ll get to the last day of my trip.

Ethan washes his hands, and then hops on the bed. I’m about to shift my position, but he just lays behind me, probably a foot away. I look back at him, and he plays on his phone.

“What we watchin’?” I turn around to face him, and set my phone between us. Memories of hanging out with Trent in our early teenage years come flooding back to me, and I feel myself overwhelmed with nostalgia, admiration, all these other feelings that just lead to me blushing.

“Between these two,” I say.

“Fargo it is,” he says, and he looks me in the eyes in a way I can’t describe, but I feel insanely curious about what he’s thinking. He just hopped in a full-size bed, laying beside me, with no hesitation. Maybe he’s just a comfortable person. Who am I to say.

We just watch the movie.

———————-

We started with just our feet in the covers, then up to our shins, and then as our room seems to catch a random chill, we’re waist deep in the comforter. It’s almost over, maybe seven minutes left, when Ethan gets a call.

“My mom. I told her what happened and she’s freakin’ out. Go ahead and watch the movie, I’ll be a sec,” he says.

“I can pause it,” I suggest. Ethan insists I watch, so I shrug and turn away from him to reduce the noise level. Then I pause it anyway to pick at my fingernails while Ethan does a thousand reassurances to his mother that he’s okay, and will be okay to make it to Thanksgiving, but may come a couple days early–and single.

At the end of his call, I’m about to turn back over to face him, but he reaches over me, and presses play, and lays close enough to where he can see the screen. At first I freeze up, feeling him so close but not touching me. Just a few inches away.

I wish he were touching me. I don’t even pay attention to the last few minutes of the movie, and instead try to focus on breathing slowly, and containing what’s going on in my pants. Good thing we’re under the blanket. Or maybe not so good. Ethan’s gotta know this is kinda affectionate, right? He has to know he’s in my bubble, that this is at the very least, sexually tense. Once the credits start to roll, I’m almost afraid that we’ll shift positions to something less close, so I simply stay still. I wish the movie were longer. I doubt he’ll go for a third in a row.

“What’s next?” he asks softly.

I clear my throat. “W-what’s something on your list?” I ask, trying not to let on anything that I’m feeling. Again, Ethan reaches over me for my phone, but this time, he keeps his arm there, resting it on my hip as he decides he knows best on navigating the app.

There should be no question about it now, but I still can’t stop wondering. When Ethan leans closer to see the screen as he scrolls, I feel his breath on my ear. We’re nearly spooning at this point. If I just leaned backward, my body would be against his.

I don’t think I’m reading too much into this, and I’m pretty sure I know why Ethan is breaking up with his girlfriend.

“I’ll probably fall asleep,” Ethan says, selecting Indiana Jones.

“Yeah,” I agree. “At least we’ll be warm, right?”

That must’ve been what Ethan needed to hear to fully commit, and he scoots his body against mine, and wraps his arm around my waist. I feel my breath hitch, and the hair on my neck stands up. He’s warmer than me, and I feel the firmness of his body, his legs. He’s not hard-bodied, but I can tell he does some kind of exercise. I can’t actually believe we’re spooning. I can’t help but wonder what’s next.

“Can’t make you sleep on the couch again,” Ethan says. I chuckle a bit, and lay down comfortably. He holds me even closer, and we start the movie.

————————

I wake up to a dark room and dark phone, and with Ethan curled up around me, my hand gripping his forearm. The room is full of bluish tints and dark shadows, except a casting of light on the ceiling. I wonder what time it is.

I close my eyes again, wondering what stirred me awake, when I shift my feet and suddenly feel a certain distinguishable hardness prodding my ass cheek. Ethan seems to be asleep, as he seems to be breathing sleepily, but Little Ethan is awake. I’ve only jokingly been the little spoon to some of my friend’s antics, but I really fell asleep curled up with a stranger without much of a second thought.

I see if I can discreetly check my phone without moving too much to check the time, but my upper body movements cause Ethan to breathe in deep, and he “mmms” softly, pulling me even closer to him. 3:48am. My phone screen is bright, and I turn it off quickly.

“Evan? What time is it?” Ethan whispers with a yawn. I woke him up anyway.

“Getting close to 4am,” I whisper back.

“Mmm. I gotta piss,” Ethan says, and he lets me go, making his way to the shoilet.

I’m significantly colder without him next to me, and I finally let out a breath of relief. He’s attracted to me, too.

So what’s next?

Ethan washes his hands and looks for the mirror that’s not there before giving up. We probably crashed around 10pm, maybe 11. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention.

I sit up, and Ethan comes back to sit next to me, and he hops under the covers. “I don’t know if I’m getting back to sleep,” he says with a sigh. The shadows cast in the room make his face look mysterious, angular.

“Same,” I agree.

“Don’t know what we’re supposed to—”

“We should make out,” I say quietly.

Ethan looks down at me, almost surprised, before a small smile crosses his lips.

“Yes.”

With that, Ethan leans down to kiss me once, experimentally, and then looks me in the eye before kissing me again, deeply. God, it’s been too long since I’ve kissed anyone, and I’m more than glad that I’m kissing a man.

Ethan steadily makes his way on top of me and between my legs, and I grab his shirt to pull him close. It feels surreal, like I’m having my first kiss all over again. For a while, that’s all we’re doing, kissing. Ethan’s lips are warm, soft. When he works his tongue in my mouth, I moan. I don’t think I’ve ever moaned off a kiss.

I get a foreign feeling in the pit of my stomach as I let my defenses down and let Ethan lead. Like for once, I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I think I was meant to have a man on top of me, maybe even inside me. I can’t stop absorbing him, putting my all into every kiss and touch. I didn’t know making out could feel this good.

Ethan humps into me once, and I run my hands all the way down his back to grip his ass, and he humps me again. Having my legs spread wide as he does it makes me consider the fact that maybe both of us have worked this out already in our heads, and this means I’m bottoming.

“I wanna fuck you,” Ethan says. Yup.

“I think I want you to fuck me,” I reply. Maybe it’s the illusion of the darkness in the room, but I feel like I watch that Nice Guy fade from his face as his lips curl into a tiny smile again, as if he can’t help it. My shivering isn’t from the cold this time. We stare for a moment, and then I reach down to pull his shirt up from his torso. Ethan follows with the same energy.

What does 95% mean anyway? 5%? Because I’m 100% sure I wanna see Ethan naked, see what his cock looks like, what he feels like and sounds like when he’s inside me. Pretty not-straight if you ask me.

Ethan isn’t shy as he swings my leg over to yank my shorts down, tossing them aside. He looks at me, my pulsing hard dick, and as he pulls off his own underwear, and then he looks me in the eye as he swings my leg back over around, spreading me open.

He’s gonna eat me.

Instantly, the realization that I’m still probably a little high sets in as I start giggling, covering my mouth. Ethan’s eyebrows tilt with curiosity. “What?”

“T-the… Abominable Sn-snowman,” I giggle, unable to contain myself. Luckily, this doesn’t seem to be a turn-off, as he giggles right along with me, palming his face as he laughs. We both have an out of control moment of laughter, until he leans down to kiss me again. “Sorry,” I say with a deep breath. “I had to.”

“I suppose this means you want me to eat you,” Ethan says, eyes narrowing, one hand caressing at my barely existing abs, the other on my thigh. He kisses me again, tongue dancing along my lips. Suddenly, we’re getting serious again. The fluttering in my stomach shoots the sensation all the way down, and I feel my dick pulse against his. The way he looks at me, it’s like he’s demanding some answer out of me.

“Yes,” I breathlessly admit, and he kisses me again, lips trailing down wetly to my neck, my pecs, and he licks at my nipple, making me moan out involuntarily, squeezing my legs around his. Ethan gets the hint, and he lets out a low hum of his own, dedicating his lips and tongue and teeth to one pec, and then the other. I’m not sure how he’s able to keep such a steady and relentless pace as my chest rises and falls so frantically. I’m literally breathless over him sucking on my nipples already, and we’ve barely begun.

He suddenly licks from my tiny happy trail all the way back up to my nipples again, and I feel my cock pulse, the wetness of sweat and precum causing us to be in our own little heat bubble down there. Ethan goes down again, but of course, decides to surprise me by flicking his tongue at the head of my dick, making me squirm before his strong hands pin my hips to the bed. At the sight of my squirming, he smiles, quickly taking half of my dick in his warm mouth, moaning around me as he experimentally moves his head around.

“Shit,” I feel my toes curl, and Ethan barely gives me the chance to take in one sensation before he moves onto the next, quickly dipping his middle finger in his mouth and sparing no time directing it between my asscheeks. I squeeze my eyes shut, grabbing a handful of dirty-blonde hair as he prods at my ass. I try to spread my legs even more, but my legs shake so much it’s hard to focus.

“Heh, your balls are full,” Ethan says, seemingly impressed. As he presses his finger deeper and deeper, the tip of it finally popping inside me, he takes my dick in his mouth again, sucking me down almost all the way. I moan aloud, back arching as I decide giving a response is too much for me right now. He quickly twists and dips his finger into my tight asshole, not giving a shit that I’m gripping his hair so tightly.

My body responds to his every move, nerves on fire as his finger prods inside me. He pushes it deeper and deeper, starting to stroke in and out of my now quivering hole, and I feel my balls clench as he fucks me with just one digit. I’m desperate for more. “Hnngh, E-Ethan–”

“Yeah?” His tone is cocky as he looks up at me, flatly sticking his tongue out to lick up my shaft.

“Another finger,” I manage to huff.

“Already?” Ethan teases, tilting his head. “This is nothing for you, huh?”

“This is everything,” I say, eyes popping open, looking down at him. “P-please.”

He grants my wish, making use of his mouth to keep everything going smoothly. At the feeling of him pressuring my asshole again, I shudder, feeling his fingers probe me and push deep within, which probably isn’t that deep compared to his dick. His low voice has me thinking he might have a lot to pack into me. I can’t imagine anything better than being completely stuffed by Ethan right now.

“Fucking shit, dude,” I moan, feeling him work me over. Ethan sits up, frogging his legs under mine, pushing our cocks together and grabbing both at the base.

“Fucking shit, dude,” Ethan repeats in a much sultrier way, looking down at me as he jerks both of us off in a painstakingly slow pace. I finally see that he’s packing, feel the meatiness of his dick compared to my own, and I see the multiple inches that it sticks out above mine. With those meticulous fingers, he pumps them in and out of me in rhythm with the stroking of his other hand. I grip the bedsheets, biting my lip as I stare him down, and he watches me pant like some kind of slut.

I must look impatient, because he raises his brows as if he’s asking a question, but quickly decides to make use of the various liquids we’ve accumulated, and before I know it, he’s putting a third finger inside me. He squeezes our dicks together, jerking faster as his fingers follow in succession. The moonlight illuminates the curves at his pecs, casting tiny shadows of hair that is dusted across, his erect nipples. I want to do everything to him that he’s done to me, but I don’t think he’ll let me. I just get the feeling that I’m going to be taken care of tonight, and I’m very okay with that.

“I’m g-gonna cum,” I manage to breathe out.

“You better fucking cum, Evan.” His face is serious, sexy as he looms above me with his gorgeous frame.

At his words, I feel myself whimper more than I hear it, and my five-day neglected balls jump in response. Ethan decides that he likes this reaction, and he leans close. “Yeah. I think I wanna see that. I wanna see how much you empty out. Then I’ll use it to fuck you.” He uses his thumb to push at the spot between my ass and my almost bursting sack, and my leg jerks in response, as I clench again, moaning aloud.

“C’mon Ev. Cum for me.”

Ev.

The nickname is ultimately what does it, as I curse aloud, body shaking and breathing as if I’ve run a marathon. Ethan watches as the streams spurt from my nerve-wrackingly sensitive head, coating his hand, his cock, and my own. With his other hand, he cups my balls, massaging me through the orgasm and stimulating me beyond what I thought possible.

I feel myself making incomprehensible sounds, and I cover my mouth as Ethan continues his magic, making me gush all over the both of us. My heart beats so hard, I feel my body pulse each time.

As promised, and in Ethan-typical fashion, he wastes no time admiring the gush of cum all over his hand, and he swipes the better half of it on my empty asshole, which is just begging to be full of him. As I pay panting, he strokes himself, letting my dick fall onto my stomach.

“Fuck. You’re hot,” I manage. Ethan shakes his head. “You are.”

“Not like you right now. You should see yourself. You’re so ready for me… I wish you could see yourself, mmf,” Ethan groans, leaning down to taste my nipples again, kissing down my slim torso.

“Hurry,” I pant, spreading my legs and arching my back. Ethan nods, flicking his eyes up at me and giving me a tiny smirk again, coating his dick with my outburst and swiftly positioning himself at my hole. He pushes gently at first, but firm, rocking back and forth to test the waters. Then the pressure grows, and I’m stretched open with a pop as the thick head of Ethan’s cock makes its way into my eager ass.

As soon as he’s inside me, I realize he hasn’t cum yet, and I realize I’m in for a treat. “I wanted to see it,” I say, not realizing what I said.

“My cock?” Ethan asks. I nod. “You will,” he says, breaths shaky. The sound of him getting more turned on just makes me want to be dominated by him more. “And feel it.”

“I feel it,” I confirm with a nod, my hand fleeting down to my lower belly, feeling myself stir as Ethan begins pushing inside. “Geez, you’re packing, Ethan.”

“Heh, not bad yourself.”

“If you felt what I’m f-feeling,” I groan, feeling the pressure, the stretch, his cock filling me up already.

He chuckles again, breathless as he slowly makes his way inside. “You have no idea how fucking tight you are, Ev.” I didn’t think he had more to push in, but apparently that was just the half of him. It makes me giddy to be described in such a word, tight.

We develop a rhythm, Ethan pushing in slowly as I take him with an arch in my back, feeling this man take over my ass. Finally, it seems, he’s buried to the hilt, and we rest there for a moment. I can’t believe he’s inside me. I can’t believe I’ve gone 25 years without this sensation.

Ethan pulls out slowly, and pushes back in, and that’s when I really get the gist of what’s going on. I’m being fucked. I’m loving it. His eyes drift open and closed as he moves his hips, grinding into me with a strength I didn’t think possible given how slow we’re going. I relish every squelch I hear of him pushing into me, pulling back out. When he picks up the pace, I can’t help releasing the moan caught in my throat.

“Fuuuuck, Ev. Dude you’re so fucking hot.”

“I want it bad, Ethan.”

“Take it, then.” With that, Mr. Nice Guy grabs my hips, pulling back and stroking forward with a force I didn’t know I was craving. I watch my thighs shake with his impact, steady and forceful while he stretches me out, uses my ass to milk himself. I love it. I crave every bit of him. I didn’t know if I’d get rock hard again, but here I am, cock leaking on my belly as my balls dance around in their resting place, ready to go again.

Ethan builds like a locomotive, starting to shove himself inside me recklessly, shaking the bed as it barely meets the wall, tapping it every few strokes. I feel like he’s in my stomach with how deep he is, and then a particular stroke makes my nerves zap throughout my body, and I’m close to cumming yet again. Ethan sees the reaction, and he curiously tries to repeat his strokes, until my nerves get thrown out of whack again, and he looks me in the eye, adjusting our position slightly. “I think I found treasure.”

“Huh?” My tone is breathless.

“Right here, yeah?” He shoves himself inside me again, and whatever he’s doing is making me squirm as I grip onto his forearms. “Your sweet spot.”

I moan aloud, realizing what he means. That thing that I got checked in exams didn’t seem so medical anymore, as Ethan continues pushing himself deep within, hitting on my prostate over and over again.

“You can feel that in me?” I ask, taken aback. He shrugs, and then nods, moving his hips again. “Fuckin’ shit, that’s hot.”

“Hah, now I gotta make you cum again from this,” he says, deliberately pinning me down to the bed and fucking me even harder. Every time he hits my prostate, I feel my dick twitch as I inch closer to my second climax of the night.

“Ethan! Fuck! Mmmf, shitttt–” I groan, covering my mouth as I watch him drill me. “I want you to cum in me.”

“I promise I will.”

“It’s gonna be so wet–are you gonna cum a lot?” The prospect of having him drip out of me made me shudder with anticipation, although I didn’t want to be empty of his cock anytime soon.

“I’m gonna dump a whole load in you, Baby,” Ethan says, leaning close as he fucks me, kissing me sloppily. The pet name makes me jittery yet again, and I moan aloud, grabbing his shoulders as he folds me in half, nailing my hole as I slurp him in.

“Unfff, yessss, yes–fuck!” I try biting back my words, but watching him take over my ass is too much. He spreads me out by the backs of my thighs and swings his hips forward, slamming into me with the slickest, wettest sounds.

“Mmm, yeah, Ev. You take my fat dick very well.”

“You know it’s big,” I say, my voice pouty and airy.

“Too big?” he teases.

“Yeah, probably,” I say with a chuckle, “but it feels so fucking gooooood, ugggghhh.”

“So do you, Baby. Gonna make me fill you with my load faster than I thought. Kiss me.”

I oblige, sucking on his tongue and sharing filthy, drooly kisses as we both moan and encourage each other shamelessly. Our bodies are tightly packed now, limbs entangled and my fingernails biting at the skin on his shoulders.

“Leg up. Let me finish you.” With that, he swings my leg over his shoulder, slamming into me over and over again, building the pressure in my belly with his thrusts of accuracy. “Mmmff, fuck, Ev, you’re so–fuuuck…”

“I’m so close,” I whine.

“Me, too. Gonna give you what you want.”

“Please, Ethan.”

“Fuck yeah,” he says shakily, quickly wiping sweat from his forehead and fucking me with fervor.

I thought I’d last a little longer, but before I know it, my dick gets that familiar twinge, and I feel myself letting go, moaning aloud and panting his name on repeat.

“Good, Ev, fuck yes, Baby,” Ethan watches me finish yet again, and he moans, slowing his strokes and gripping my hips tight. “Fuck, fuuu–I’m–”

“Yes,” I breathe, touching my lower belly as he leans forward, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing into my neck as I feel the hot, liquid spurts of his orgasm gush into me. I feel like a little slut, used and full of him, completely sweaty and exhausted by what he’s done to me.

As soon as we get the moment to kiss, we do, desperate and sloppy like before. I even grab him by the back of his head and neck, moaning and sighing into our embrace. I’m riding a high I’ve never experienced. As he lays beside me, we curl up into each other without a word, feeling our bodies connect and finally feeling him slide out of me. I feel empty already.

Maybe a good ten minutes later, our breaths slow to the point where I feel like we might fall asleep. I figure it’ll be easiest to clean up tonight, so I stroke a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should shower,” my voice is a whisper.

“Mmm. Freezing,” Ethan says, his grumbly voice giving me goosebumps.

“We can warm it up. C’mon,” I beckon, kissing him again. Ethan smiles with his eyes closed, giving in and sitting up, stretching his arms above his head.

My attraction to him only grows more, and we’ve already had sex. He runs his hand through my hair this time, and kisses me again. “Fine.”

I’m surprised we have the patience to bear through five minutes of cold water before it turns warm, and we start cleaning off the remnants of our romp. I want to comment on how good it feels to still feel his cum sliding out of me, but I don’t know if the moment’s passed. That’s when Ethan turns me around in the dark shower box, and I feel his fingers glide down between my ass cheeks.

“You took every drop, huh?” Like he’s reading my mind. I blush, sticking my ass out, and he grabs with both strong hands, slipping a thumb into me with ease. I’m sensitive, so I flinch, and he wraps his arm around my waist as he keeps his thumb in my ass. “You’re a good lay.”

“Good to know, since I’m an amateur.”

Ethan softens, embracing me further, kissing under my ear. “You think we’ll be out of here tomorrow?”

“Hope not,” I say, letting the water fall in my face as I stick my ass backward again. I reach back, feeling for his cock, which is half-hard already, and thick in my hand. Heavy, too. I stroke him a few times, feeling the heat and blood rush into it again.

“Mmm. It’d be nice to have you in a better hotel, or my place. I think you’d like my place,” Ethan says, wiggling his thumb, making me shiver. I chuckle to myself.

“You wanna take me home?”

Ethan removes his thumb, and I feel him grab my wrist, directing me to put my hand on the wall. “You’ll be my carry-on bag.”

“Because you stored your cum in me?” I joke, feeling his cock push between my ass cheeks in the shower water. “Imagine me keeping your dick warm on the plane, huh.”

“You could keep me warm entirely,” he says, grabbing my hips, pushing and teasing my hole again. I close my eyes, spreading my legs a bit to let him in. “W-wait, I didn’t see it.”

Ethan chuckles, and he slips away, turning me around as if I’m a plaything. “Feast your eyes.”

I take him in my hand again, marveling at the girth, the bulbous head, his balls which are even bigger than mine. Not sure why he was so impressed with me. “Mm. I’d fuck anything if I had this dick, too.”

Ethan laughs, gently running his hand along my hips, and up my back. “I’m very selective about what I fuck.”

That makes me blush, as if we hadn’t gone at it just twenty or so minutes ago. “Good to know.”

“Have you seen enough? Or do you–”

I interrupt Ethan’s impatience with a not-so-smooth transition onto my knees, and the water in the shower warms up even more, feeling great on my skin. Ethan smooths my hair back, away from my forehead, and I feel his dick gently smack against my cheek as I look up at him. I think it’s an accident until it happens again, and I realize he’s swung it toward me. I laugh, opening my mouth as I anticipate another swing, and Ethan slides his cock from my cheek, into my lips.

I stick my tongue out, allowing it to slip deep into my mouth, down my throat as I look up at him. Nearly impossible to see his eyes because of the steam and the darkness, but I know he sees me, from the bit of light beaming into the shower and reflecting from the tile.

“Mffff…. Fuuck, Evan,” I hear him moan, his deep voice rumbling within the tile walls. I feel like I’ve barely done anything but take him in my mouth. I admit it’s pretty smooth sailing for my first time, and maybe I’m spoiled for having the pleasure of doing this in the shower. Either way, I have Ethan’s hum of satisfaction in my ears as I finally close my mouth around him, saliva and water easing the journey. I feel like I must look good with his cock in my mouth.

“Mmmmm,” I hum, relishing the feeling of my mouth being so full, thinking of how this amount of thickness was just inside my ass, and feeling even more turned on by the sex that already happened a while ago. This thing was wholly inside me. It’s going to be again. I can’t help but moan, genuinely excited to let him fuck me again.

For a while, I just suck on him, back and forth, mouth full of meat that pulses on my tongue. I grab him at the base, pushing him further down my throat until I somehow come to a point where I can fully breathe through my nose. I keep him in my mouth, filling and bulging my throat, just closing my eyes and sucking on him as I let my hand drop. I genuinely get lost in the sensation of his cock down my throat, pulsing with his quick heartbeat, just letting myself breathe and suckle on him as if he’s feeding me somehow.

Once Ethan realizes I’m in my own little world with him stuffing my throat, he groans to himself, leaning back slightly and running both hands through my thick locs of dark hair. “You’re just gonna keep me in there, huh?”

“Mmmm,” I say, basically in a trance. Yes, all probably 8 and a half inches of him. I suck, the only thing moving being my tongue as I let my mouth suckle around his throbbing dick.

“Fuck, this is amazing,” Ethan moans, gently stroking his fingers through my hair. He runs his other hand along his body, letting me nurse his cock like some kind of creature. “Your ass next. Just let me nestle in there and feel you.”

“Mhmmm,” I moan, gulping around the head of his dick. I feel him drip down my throat, and rub my belly with imaginary hunger. I think about moving back and forth, but somehow, this seems so good in the moment. He moans yet again, gently massaging his fingers on my scalp, and I feel tingly sensations within me.

“If I cum, it’ll shoot right down your throat, you know,” he says it like a warning. I feel his balls jump against my chin, and my eyes slit open. I move back and forth just one time, sliding him out at full length, and taking him back in. He shudders, and a small “oh god” slips as a whisper from his lips. “Good god, Ev.”

We hit another benchmark as Ethan lets go, and I try not to jump at the surprise of how much cum starts spraying down my throat. For a second, I try to keep up gulping it down, but then I just let it slide down my esophagus, the goopy feeling making me crave for him to just fill my entire belly with his load. I’d swallow a stomachful of him.

The salty-sweet taste only makes my dick stand up in an instant, and I suck him off with a pop. I let his cock rest on my lips as I look up at him, and gulp loudly.

“You’re… you’re the first person who ever did that,” Ethan says, out of breath. I smile a bit. “C’mere.”

We start up again, making out hot and heavy until he’s got me turned around again, and he squeezes his cock inside me. As he buries himself to the hilt, he grabs my hips, holding me close as I feel him wiggle further in, shoving himself as far as he can go. I feel him in my guts now as I know I’m quivering around him.

“I figure you’d want me to stuff you from this end, too.” Ethan massages his thumbs above my bubbled-up asscheeks. “I’ll park here for a while.”

I lean forward, resting my elbows against the wall to bend over a bit more. The tiny shower-toilet space basically allows me to sit on him, with both of us in a semi-comfortable position. “I like it.”

“I wonder if you’ll stay open when I pull out,” Ethan muses, running his hands along my body. “I feel your ass moving around me. You keep squeezing and letting go.”

I feel myself blush. “That’s not intentional.”

“Then it’s fucking hotter,” Ethan says, reaching around to pinch my nipples as he stays buried inside me. “How does it feel?”

“Like you own my ass,” I moan softly, wiggling on top of him. “It’s in my belly.”

“You’re not that small. No way my cock is in your stomach like that.”

“It is,” I chuckle, rubbing my lower stomach. “You’re just that big.”

“Mmm. Liar,” Ethan says, slowly circling his hips. “If that’s the case, this’ll cause a little twister in there.” I can barely focus as he moves, and wraps his arms around my waist again. It feels so good to just move with him, meet my hips to his with a gyration of some sort, to make him feel good.

I moan aloud, letting him churn around inside me. A few minutes later, and he can’t help himself from pulling out, pushing back in. “Fuck,” he whispers, holding me tighter.

“Please do,” I whisper back. Arms around my waist and shoulder, Ethan slowly moves in and out, and the sounds are too delicious with the suction of my ass in the running water. We both moan aloud, fingernails digging into skin and thighs slapping against thighs. I lean back into him, closing my eyes and letting him loom over me again.

“Shit,” Ethan curses, burying himself in me again. “You’re warm inside.”

“You warmed me up.”

Instead of responding with words, Ethan holds me by the hips, gently pushing me forward and picking up the pace. Hands against the tile, I take him over and over, as he begins smashing my cheeks with force, letting them bounce off his thighs with every thrust. I start fucking him back, the slapping noises taking over the shower, and probably the room.

It’s addicting, the way he keeps his steady pace while pounding me. “Unnggh, Ethan, yessss,” I moan, feeling my breaths hitch as they’re fucked out of me.

“So pretty,” I hear, and his hand slips to my shoulder and hip, caressing me gently in contrast with the relentless thrusts. If the goal was to make me blush, he achieves it. “You swallow me up, Ev.”

“You’re a good fit,” I moan. “You belong in there.”

“I guess that means your ass is mine.”

He’s got me panting yet again as he pokes my inner trigger, our sex overtaking all my senses. This is by far the most intense sex I’ve ever had, and I’m pretty sure Ethan is taking out some of his desires on me, too. I’m more than willing to let him. For minutes, I close my eyes, body peaking on the pressures of his gorgeous cock. We both breathe hard, taking each other in with every stroke.

At once, we both whisper shakily, “I’m close,” which makes me chuckle humorlessly as I bite my lip. I’m sure I don’t have to tell him to let go inside me again.

We pull each other close just as the water begins to falter into chill again, and our moans aren’t shy as Ethan grunts over my shoulder, putting force into his last strokes.

“Fuck,” I whine, voice high and panting, grabbing his arm as I take a pounding. Ethan hums affirmingly, slamming into me with fervor, balls slapping against my cheeks as we seem to peak at nearly the same time. The affection is expected, as we kiss over my shoulder, hands exploring, drinking each other in.

A moment later, and we’re cleaning off again, and the shower turns cold.

—————

I’m awoken to the sound of mechanical whirring outside, with Ethan’s arm around my waist.

We’ve gone the naked route, sleeping well into 10am under two sets of covers. I’m about to sit up when I feel him squeeze me closer.

“Mmm. They’re moving the snow. Just stay in bed.”

His voice seems designed to send shivers down my spine.

“Good morning,” I grumble, sinking back into bed. Ethan curls closer to me.

“Morning, Sleepyhead. You were snoring.”

“I was trying to blend in with the snowmobile or whatever,” I sigh, turning slightly to face him. The sight of golden-brown eyes peeking back at me has me all kinds of warm inside, the kind of warm that could turn into horny, but I figure we should at least wake up first.

“Sure,” Ethan teases, running a hand through my hair. “We’ll be able to leave today, I bet.”

The sinking feeling in my stomach turns into butterflies as he leans over to kiss me gently. My trip is the second thing on my mind, the first being all things Ethan. What does it mean when we’re out of here?

“Well. I don’t know if I want any more snow right now,” I sigh, checking my phone.

“Ah come on. Go on your trip,” Ethan says, as if he’s reading my mind. “Go see ‘Trent’ and them.”

The jokey animosity in his tone as he says Trent’s name makes me smile. As if he’s jealous somehow. “Come with me.”

“Sure. I’ll introduce myself as the sixth wheel.”

Suddenly, I feel myself get serious. “I wouldn’t be alone that way.”

Ethan senses the aura, and he sits up again. “Heh. You want me to meet your friends?”

“Yeah,” I say with a scoff. “No. I dunno.”

“We barely know each other,” Ethan says, hand trailing up my torso under the covers. “And I have a breakup to attend to.” I don’t mean for my face to look however it does, and cause Ethan to make such a concerned, painfully worried look.

“Fuck that breakup. If she knows, why is she making you pay hundreds of dollars to tell her?” I frown, not knowing why I’m pushing this so hard. Do I really… want this?

Ethan plays along. “How will you introduce me to your friends?”

I blush. “A nice guy I met.”

“They’ll know we fucked.”

“Maybe that’s fine.”

That’s when I see the wheels turning in his head, and he smiles gently. “I’ve never skied before.”

————–

I’m at the airport, watching the downpour outside, wondering what happened to April showers. It’s August, and I’ve barely been able to leave my house without a storm watch in my home state, let alone this one.

The man in front of me is raving on his phone. “They lost the fuckin’ bags. Yeah I’ve tried that! Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” The employee standing in front of him crosses her arms with an inauthentic, corporate smile on her face. I give her a thumbs up to let her know she’s appreciated, and the smile turns genuine as she waves back.

I feel bad for the other person on the end of that call. As I finally grab my own bag, heading for the ride pickup, I pick up my own ringing phone.

“Hey.”

“Hello my love.”

“The fuck is it raining so much for?”

“You’re in Seattle, Babe.” I hear a scoff, and I watch the shadows from his windshield wiper dance across his face. “Which gate are you at?”

“Mmm. I dunno.”

He nods, a little smile cracking on his lips. “Were you nice to the employees?”

I blush, giving him a frown. “No. I was awful. And I gave them your name, so you might be banned from your next flight.”

I see a car outside the sliding doors, and recognize the license. I hang up my phone, rushing over, and hopping into the front seat.

For a moment, we stare, blush rising to both of our cheeks as if we’re timid teens. Then, he leans in to kiss me.

“Hey, Ethan.”

“Hey, Evan.”

//

thanks for reading. let me know what you think. i hope this is a good comeback to my writing on here, and that you’ll stick around for any other random stories that might pop up. i enjoy writing, but life gets in the way a lot! thanks for your patience with me.

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