Woodsmen: Part Three

The Cabin

Aidan woke first, with Gordon’s arm casually draped across his chest. He heard and felt his breathing, slow and even, oblivious to the morning light beginning to seep between the cabin’s thick curtains. For a moment, Aidan lay there listening. He told himself it was curiosity and nothing more. But he lingered just that little bit longer, counting Gordon’s steady breaths as he lay next to him.

When Gordon shifted, he turned to face him, still sleeping. Aidan could see his cock was hard, which made him wonder what he was dreaming about.

Aidan smiled, shifted slightly, and felt the throbbing pain in his ankle. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, but enough to remind him he wouldn’t be running around that day. He groaned softly under his breath, pushing himself upright, grimacing as the weight hit the wrong spot.

Gordon stirred again, muttered something half-sensible, then blinked himself awake.

“Shit,” Gordon rasped, voice still heavy with sleep. “Are you okay?”

Aidan hesitated, half wanting to say yes, but honesty won. “I’ve been worse.”

“Let’s get you coffee. That’ll help.” Gordon sat up too, rubbed his eyes, and looked around like he needed to remind himself where they were. He didn’t look uncomfortable having Aidan in his bed, nor conscious of the bulge straining his tight underpants. He exuded a sense of calm and practicality, like waking up in bed with another man was routine for him. Maybe it was.

Gordon moved easily to the stove in his underpants, no longer as hard but still showing a large package, barefoot steps silent against the wooden floor, flicking the switch, filling the kettle. Aidan watched him, the way Gordon carried his own body without hesitation, like everything he did was measured but nothing required effort. There was something alluring about that. Something Aidan enjoyed watching.