by John, Ashley
Cal bent slightly to kick off his socks and shoes. He danced from foot to foot in the snow before climbing into the steaming water. When he did, Ben caught a flash of something hanging between his legs. From Cal being clothed to Cal being naked in the water, it couldn’t have lasted more than twenty seconds but in Ben’s memory, it was a moment so vivid, it seemed to have lasted hours.
“The longer you stand there, the longer you’re at risk of hypothermia,” Cal pushed himself to the far side of the wide hot tub.
Ben nodded and untucked his arms, unsure of what to do. He felt Cal’s eyes trained on his body through his clothes and he wasn’t sure how he felt about undressing in front of him. Cal’s body was almost Viking-like, showing years of labour intensive work, which left little room for body fat. Ben had spent most of his time in Oxford avoiding the Uni gym like a ninja, despite the two-year contract Jonny convinced him to take out. Ben was slender with slight shoulders; his stomach wasn’t washboard and his arms were drainpipes compared to Cal’s.
Even as he ran over all of these insecurities in his mind, he saw something in Cal’s eyes that made him feel free. It was as though Cal could read his mind and he was saying ‘I don’t care’.
Ben undressed as quickly as possible, cupping his half erect cock in his hands, just like Cal had done. When he was in the water, his entire body shuddered and he was sure he was about to pass out from the sudden change. Eventually, his heart calmed down and the water felt amazing. He looked out to the valley, a lone cable car slowly making its way across. Ben could see people inside its metal casing and wondered if they could see him. He looked down into the water, his eyes instantly going to Cal’s side of the hot tub. The steam was too thick and the interior of the hot tub was too dark to see anything below the surface. He didn’t know if he was happy about that or not.
“Won’t you get in trouble?”
“No, I come here all the time. Barry Carlson, the guy who owns most of the buildings here, he’s good to me.”
“You bring a lot of people here?”
“Never,” Cal shook his head casually, “you’re the first.”
Ben wasn’t sure if that was true. He wondered if Cal was one of those guys who entrapped tourists in his web for a couple of days for his own gain. He remembered that it had been his own fault that Cal had crashed into him and they had met in the bar by complete accident. Looking into his kind eyes, he instantly dismissed that theory.
“What makes me so special?” Ben laughed, his throat shaking.
He was shivering in the water, but it wasn’t because he was cold. Even though his face and shoulders were exposed, the steam was hot enough to heat his whole body. He was nervous, more nervous than he had been taking to the slopes for the first time.
“I like you,” Cal narrowed his eyes slightly, not taking them off Ben, “is that okay?”
“Why?” there was accusation in his voice.
“Do I need a reason?”
“No. You’re just so -,”
“So what?” Cal furrowed his brow.
“Good looking.”
“So?” Cal laughed, “Are you saying you aren’t?”
Ben felt his face burn crimson and he hoped Cal wouldn’t notice through the fog between them.
“Beauty fades. It takes more than a pretty face to get my attention,” Cal’s voice lowered and Ben felt something tickle the inside of his leg, “and for the record, I thought you were beautiful from the second you took off your ski goggles.”
Ben didn’t know what was making him more nervous; the foot brushing against the inside of his thigh, or the compliments from a man whose bones he wanted to jump every second he spent with him.
“Thank you,” Ben mumbled, unsure of what to say.
He remembered something his mum had told him years ago: ‘always accept a compliment, even if you don’t believe it’. He believed it coming from Cal’s lips. Cal could tell him that the sky was green and pigs could fly and he might find that he believed him. There was something other worldly about the way the American spoke and it wasn’t just the difference in accents.
Cal’s foot danced in the water, so close to Ben’s solid shaft. He hoped and prayed Cal couldn’t see it.
“How long are you here for, Ben?”
“Until the day after Boxing Day,” he wished it was longer.
“The twenty-seventh? That’s too bad. I hoped it would be longer.”
“I didn’t want to come here in the first place. I came because Jonny wanted to and he’s very persuasive.”
“I know,” Cal laughed, “Louise told me all of the things they got up to last night. She said he was quite the animal in bed.”
“Sounds like Jonny,” he mumbled to himself.
“I admire somebody who is a good friend. You can always tell the measure of a man based on how good a friend he is. I know you’d rather be anywhere else but here. Maybe you have a family back home who you’d rather be spending Christmas with, but you still came here even though you have no interest in skiing.”
“That’s not true,” Ben mumbled, “this is exactly where I want to be.”
He wanted to stay with Cal forever. He didn’t care about term resuming at University on January 2nd or that he hadn’t wanted to leave England for Christmas.
“Can I ask you something?” Cal’s tone turned serious.
“Anything,” Ben nodded.
“Is there anybody back home waiting for you?”
“What do you mean?” he knew exactly what Cal meant.
“Some guy who has your heart or a lover in your bed.”
“I wish,” Ben mumbled awkwardly, “there’s nobody.”
The distance between them vanished as Cal moved through the steam toward Ben’s face. Their bodies pressed up against each other in the water and Ben was sure he could feel something hard brushing against his stomach.
“Good,” Cal’s fingers wrapped around the back of Ben’s head, “because it means I can do this.”
Cal closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss Ben. It was better than he remembered from the night before. He didn’t think it was possible, but his cock reacted and hardened further. His smooth body brushed against the hair on Cal’s, grating his smooth skin in a way he never knew he craved. He wanted it all, right there and then in the hot tub. The people in the passing cable cars could watch as they bobbed up and down in the steam.
Cal’s tattooed left hand let go of Ben’s hair and disappeared into the water, letting Ben know that he was left handed. It waded through the water and wrapped around Ben’s eight inches tightly. The kiss deepened as the hand started to tug at his manhood, the water giving it a weightless feeling.
He was totally breathless and dizzy as his tongue searched Cal’s mouth, the beard grating against his skin. He ran his hands down Cal’s already drying back, taking his chance to feel his arse. Each cheek felt firm and soft in his hands. Cal clenched them slightly and moaned through the kiss as Ben dug his short fingernails into them. The harder he squeezed Cal’s perfect cheeks, the faster Cal kissed and jerked in perfect rhythm.
He wanted to break the kiss to tell Cal to fuck him right there in the hot tub. He needed it so bad. It almost felt like a dream, and if he was still tucked up in bed having the best delusion of his life, he wanted it to go as far as possible.
But he couldn’t bring himself to break the kiss, not even for a second. When he did and muttered that he was so close, Cal’s fingers gripped his thick shaft even tighter, pushing him over the edge without holding back. Ben dug his nails deep into Cal’s cheeks as every muscle in his own body clenched. He felt his cock twitch and throb in Cal’s hands, his entire body tightening along with it.
For a second, he felt the water turn ice cold and he wasn’t aware that he was still kissing Cal with the same force he had started with. When his mind cleared and Cal let go, he opened them to see the bearded beauty still staring down at him, his wet hair hanging low over his rich and deep eyes.
It
wasn’t a dream.
“My cabin’s not far from here,” Cal whispered before gently kissing Ben on the forehead.
“I need to go and check on Jonny,” Ben shook his head, the lust fog clearing to remind him who he had arrived on the plane with, “I need to at least explain.”
Cal didn’t contest. He jumped out of the water, stood in the ice-cold air for a second, letting Ben watch the water evaporate from his rippled skin. When Cal was practically dry, he pulled on his clothes and waited in the cold until Ben had done the same. He didn’t take his eyes off him, not for a single second.
When they were back in the reception, a line of shivering ladies were standing outside and peering through the door, forcing the reality of what they had just done to hit Ben. He shrugged on his jacket, unable to look at the women, some of who were going to end up in the hot tub he had just sinned in.
“Looks like Jonny is fine.”
Cal held his phone screen up to Ben. It was a picture of Jonny and Louise, kissing on the slopes and it looked like Louise had taken it. The caption ‘This Boy Is A Keeper’ was written across a thin black bar in the middle of the picture with three tiny yellow faces with hearts for eyes tagged on the end. The countdown ended and the picture vanished.
“So,” Ben zipped up his jacket and yanked the fur-lined hood over his damp hair, “are you taking me to your cabin, or not?”
When Cal had described his home as a ‘cabin in the woods’, Ben had expected something like the cabin Jonny’s parents had a timeshare in. His cabin knowledge was patchy and he had half expected all of the cabins in the area to be as modern. He was wrong.
Just from the outside, he knew there was a difference. They had trekked through a dense forest with no clear paths or directions, even though Cal seemed to know where he was going. As Ben followed him, numerous horror films sprung to mind, teasing him. After all, he was following a stranger into the woods, even if he did feel like he could trust him.
Barely any natural light shone through the trees. Ben couldn’t see the cabin at first. Its snow covered roof and dark wood exterior made it almost invisible to the naked eye. When it jumped out at him, like a 3D image in a magic eye puzzle, he was almost taken aback by how small it was.
When they were inside, he expected some warmth but he was disappointed. It was dark and cold and by the looks of it, no central heating.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Cal patted him on the shoulder, “I’ll fire up the generator.”
He closed the door, leaving Ben to explore the dark cabin on his own. From first glances, it looked like it only contained two rooms; the room he was in, and another, which he hoped was the bathroom. The only stone in the cabin was that of the fireplace, which took up a lot of the room. A small, tattered sofa lay in front of it, a book covered coffee table in between them. He looked for a TV but it didn’t look like there was one. He couldn’t see many electrical devices now that he was looking for them. A small kitchen was tucked away in the far right corner, a breakfast bar separating it from the rest of the cramped space. Instead of stools on the other side of the breakfast bar, there was an unmade bed. Blankets made from different coloured fabrics and textures were cast on the small mattress. Ben wondered if each one represented a different country Cal had worked in.
The bulbs in the small wall light fixtures shuddered into life, casting a soft orange glow across the cabin. Still in his coat, he wandered over to the coffee table and picked up the first book on top. It was a hardback Agatha Christie mystery book. He smiled, remembering his nan’s love of the author. He scanned the other titles, noticing that they all seemed to have been plucked from the mystery genre. He hadn’t put Cal down as a bookworm, but without a TV, by choice or not, he needed something to do.
Ben expected Cal to return but he seemed to be taking his time. Peering out of the tiny, high window in the door, he saw him a couple of feet ahead, chopping wood with an axe. He swung it over his head and split the wood in two with ease.
“People actually do that?” he whispered to himself with a smile.
Turning back to the cabin, he felt like he was in Cal’s mind and he loved it. It was cosy and inviting, despite everything being mismatched and slightly out of touch with the rest of the modern world. Ben found himself sucked in and it made him forget that there was a highly commercial tourist trade on the other side of the very forest he was deep in.
The door opened and Cal carried in the bundle of wood. He tossed half of it into the fire grate and the rest into an iron basket next to it. Scrunching up newspaper and using matches, he lit the fire and it wasn’t long until it was crackling and roaring, spitting black smoke through the tall chimney.
“I really like your place.”
“Really?” Cal smiled, “It’s nothing like the cabin you’re in.”
“Exactly.”
When the fire started to fill the corners of the room, Ben finally took off his jacket, resting it on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t sure if he should sit on the bed or the couch. What had happened in the hot tub already felt like a distant memory and the schoolboy like nerves rushed back.
“Coffee?” Cal took off his own jacket and brushed his hand across the back of Ben’s shoulders.
Ben asked for something stronger and watched as Cal heated up some mulled wine in a small metal pan with a rickety wooden handle. They were silent but it didn’t feel awkward. He enjoyed watching Cal and Cal seemed to enjoy being watched. How often did he have guests? He knew Louise was a friend from back home but she seemed to be passing through. Ben wondered if Cal ever got lonely. He thought about the tattoo of ‘Mary’ on his arm and wondered who she was. He couldn’t imagine living in the middle of nowhere on his own. Maybe that’s what attracted Cal to the life? He seemed so at home and comfortable in his small cabin. Ben wondered if Cal was the type of person who could make a home no matter where they went. Is that why he didn’t have a lot of stuff, other than books?
“Be careful, it’s hot,” Cal handed Ben a glass mug.
Ben blew on the dark liquid before taking a small sip. It burnt his tongue slightly and Cal laughed when he stuck it out to examine it.
“It’s really good,” he mumbled as he rubbed his tongue on the inside of his mouth.
“Thanks,” he smiled proudly, “I made it myself.”
“Wow. How?”
“About fifty miles away, there’s this tiny little vineyard that I catch a ride out to when I can. I have a friend there, Patrice. He taught me.”
“Cool,” Ben took another sip, forgetting it was still hot, “just a friend?”
“He’s eighty-five and he has thirteen grandchildren,” Cal whispered with a wink, “c’mon, let’s sit in front of the fire.”
They sat in front of the roaring fire, sipping their mulled wine and listening to the sizzle of the wood as it scorched. Ben reached out and picked up the Agatha Christie book sitting on top of the pile. Murder On The Orient Express. It looked like a pretty old copy.
“Looks like you get through a lot of books,” Ben turned to the copyright page to see that it was a first edition from 1934.
The name ‘Mary’ was pencilled in tiny handwriting on the front page. It reminded Ben of his schoolbooks sitting on the floor of his bedroom in the flat he shared with Jonny and six others. He always made it clear they were his copies, especially when some of the books he needed could cost forty pounds.
“I read when I can,” Cal held his hand out and took the book from Ben.
He flicked through the pages and inhaled the old wood pulp scent. He held it like a newborn baby, as though scared it was going to burst into flames.
“My nan loves Poirot,” Ben offered, “never missed an episode. Whenever I see repeats on TV, I always watch them. Reminds me of her.”
“I guess she’s not here anymore?” Cal rested the book on his knee.
Ben’s nan was there in person, but not in her mind. They had always been close, perhaps too close. Getting close to somebody in the
last part of their life was never going to end well for a twenty-two-year-old.
“Alzheimer’s,” Ben nodded, “sometimes she’s here and sometimes – sometimes she’s somebody else.”
“I get that,” Cal sipped his drink.
“You’ve lost somebody?” Ben didn’t need to hear the answer to know what it would be, “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me. I’m being nosey.”
“Be nosey,” Cal flicked the book open to the middle, “I’m as open as this book. See these scribbles? They’re my mom’s. This was her high school copy for English class.”
Faded pencil markings in the same handwriting as the ‘Mary’ tag on the first page filled the margins.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Cal smiled, his eyes kind, “she had a great life and she was a great woman. These were all of her books. I can’t take much with me but I always take these. I read them when I want to feel close to her. They’ve all got her scribbles in them. Even after high school, she’d always write down her thoughts and point out parts she liked. Sometimes, she’d write something funny and it’ll make me laugh again, even all these years later.”
Cal spoke about her with such fondness it warmed Ben’s heart. He wanted to reach out to touch him but he didn’t want to spoil the moment.
