Jonathan's Hope

by Hirschi, Hans M.

  That night he didn’t find any decent shelter. He didn’t want to stop, but didn’t really have much of a choice once the sun set and the forest fell dark. He couldn’t see shit and eventually had to stop. He’d stumbled over a rock and fell on his knee, feeling the sudden rush of the warm blood trickling down his leg. Luckily, just beyond the rock was a small, unoccupied cave. Jonathan crawled into it. The place was still dry, although he was not.

  Lying on the ground that night, snow falling, wind howling through the trees, Jonathan got no sleep. His knee was hurting, his palms were still raw from falling over and trying to light fires, his stomach had given up on him, his throat felt raw and every time he swallowed, his entire upper body ached.

  Let this be over. Maybe I can die right here, right now, tonight. Nobody misses me. Nobody will search for me. Nobody will ever find my remains, except maybe a wolverine or a badger.

  Jonathan didn’t die that night. He found a hole in the ground less than three miles from Dan’s house, but he didn’t know that then. When dawn broke the next morning, Jonathan was too exhausted to get up. It had snowed a few inches the night before, but the large tree canopy above him kept most of that snow many feet above him. In small patches, where the canopy wasn’t dense enough, the snow had fallen to the ground. Jonathan took some of it and put it in his mouth, eating it to quench his thirst. He also washed his face with the snow, despite the icy cold feeling. The cold snow did wake him up. Woke his senses, allowing him to focus on what would most likely be his last day alive. If the weather stayed that cold, there was no way he’d make it through another night. Not unless he found shelter. Not unless we was able to start a fire.

  He spent most of the day seeking shelter, but despaired as none was to be found. Besides, what good did shelter do if he had no means to light a fire and keep it warm? What good did a warm shelter do if he didn’t have any food?

  As the afternoon approached, more quickly than Jonathan had wanted, his spirit sank. That’s it, I’m dead. That’s when he noticed a clearing in the forest just ahead of him, quite a big clearing, too. The sun set as he left the forest to see the lake. It was barely frozen, still early in the season.

  Jonathan looked around the lake and noticed movement on the far end of the lake, probably a deer. He retreated into the forest, watching the animal approach his position. Only, this wasn’t a deer. It was a person and a dog.

  Jonathan could barely believe what he saw. Was this the miracle he’d been waiting for? He couldn’t move. He couldn’t bring himself to approach the man walking there, just a few hundred feet from him. The man looked sad, in deep thought, his shoulders drooping as he led his dog along the shore. He stopped every now and then, looking out over the lake, pondering, for what seemed like an eternity. He seemed…lonely.

  Jonathan watched him, wanting to get up and walk out to him. To hold him, comfort him, but was unable to make his muscles move. It seemed as if the man was crying, really sad about something. He watched as the man continued his walk around the lake. It was almost dark. The sky above him was clear and Jonathan knew instinctively that it would be a very cold night, his last unless he got to safety.

  The man and his dog disappeared from his sight. Willing his body into a final act of force, he got up and followed the tracks, walking slowly along the shore of the lake. That’s when he saw the lights. About half a mile away from him was a small cabin on the shore, just at the edge of the forest. Jonathan knew he had to will his body that distance, despite the dark, despite tripping over himself, despite the pain in his joints and his bones.

  Jonathan pressed on, finally reaching the cabin and looked inside. The man he had seen earlier was sitting in a rocking chair, a cup in his hand. A fire was burning in the fireplace, radiating heat, a dog casually spread on a quilt in front of it. The scenery was so peaceful it brought tears to Jonathan’s eyes.

  He crossed the few steps to the door and knocked.

  Chapter 6

  WHEN THE WATER in the kettle was boiling, the whistle woke Jonathan from his day dream, still holding the mug with the stale, old coffee in his hand. He felt very adult drinking his coffee black, thinking back to Mary and their coffee drinking. Always so much more milk than coffee in their mugs. And the sugar! Eow, he thought, I definitively like this more.

  Jonathan poured some of the hot water into Dan’s mug and asked him where he stashed his tea. Having everything sorted out, Jonathan sat down, just as Dan finished fixing Rascal’s morning meal.

  “Bacon and eggs, eh? That’s luxurious. I normally don’t eat breakfast,” Dan said, his voice trying to convey admiration, but he wasn’t sure he’d been successful when he noticed Jonathan’s shoulders drop. “Thank you. I appreciate it, but you should eat, too. When did you last have a decent meal?”

  Those words literally awakened Jonathan’s stomach and it grumbled loudly, reminding him just how long it had been since he’d last eaten any solid food. They both dug in, and Jonathan devoured the contents on his plate in what seemed like seconds to Dan. He smiled to himself, feeling sorry for the boy. Sorry for the ordeal he’d apparently been through, despite only having heard a sketchy summary of it. Dan got up and went to one of the cupboards from which he produced a box of muesli, and some bread. He also had butter somewhere. The fridge, right, and marmalade.

  He got an appreciative nod from Jonathan, who’d finished the last of his eggs. Normally, a cup of tea was all Dan could stomach in the morning. He’d usually sit by his laptop, reading the news, browsing through any e-mail he’d received from the various publications he worked for. Some editors who’d push deadlines on him, asking for updates, reminding him of various things, but usually nothing of interest. Today his casual routine was disrupted, but he didn’t mind. Not really. He was looking across the table, watching the young man, boy, clutching the coffee mug, and smelling the aroma. Is that really still drinkable? Jonathan relished that morning potion, drinking it with gusto, before returning his attention to a bowl of muesli. Jonathan must’ve been starving. It occurred to Dan that maybe the boy should take it slowly, but he couldn’t muster the strength to tell him not to eat too much in one go.

  Jonathan, on the other hand, was in heaven. A table filled with food, a cup of coffee, definitely his favorite drink on earth, in his grasp, and no yelling or beatings. He just sat there quietly, enjoying a meal. The first meal in eleven days. Every now and then, one of them would steal a look at the other, and then avert their eyes as the look was returned. Both locked their eyes for just a fraction of a second, but every time it seemed like an eternity before they broke it up and stared elsewhere, embarrassed at having been caught.

  Jonathan knew that he must look miserable. Heck, he had seen his body last night in the shower, unshaved for eleven days, having lost all that weight. His collar bones were sticking out, his ribs and hip bones protruding, not to mention the wounds that had stopped healing as his adventure in the woods had started. The new wounds he’d received as part of his ordeal didn’t help, along with all the various scars on this back, flanks, arms, legs and buttocks. He must’ve looked like a freak.

  Dan saw nothing of that. He looked into Jonathan’s face, albeit looking funny with the few facial hairs he sported grown quite long in that time, his blond hair uncombed, reaching almost all the way to his shoulders, but freshly washed and shampooed, it was shiny and clean, and then there were his eyes. Those green eyes of his, the fever in them, the lust he noticed whenever Jonathan looked at the food, the coffee, him... Me? No, that can’t be...

  Dan couldn’t see the wounds, the scars. He hadn’t seen Jonathan naked, and couldn’t possibly know how disfigured the boy was underneath Sean’s old t-shirt and the sweat pants he was wearing. Whenever Jonathan looked back at Dan, he saw this mountain of a man, probably close to six foot one. While a few inches shorter than Jonathan, he was so much stronger, broad-shouldered, muscular, his dark hair cut fairly short, his brown eyes intense, always watching him. Jonathan figured that Dan would pr
obably be about thirty years old, give or take a few. He couldn’t be sure though. He had always sucked at that kind of age guessing.

  The two men played this game for quite some time. Dan sipped his tea, Jonathan dug through the food supplies of the house, drinking more coffee than he’d ever had before. They looked at each other every now and then, stealing glances, trying to figure each other out, but neither man said anything.

  Rascal was back on his quilt, and had he been able to speak, he would’ve agreed that the scene was quite domestic and harmonious. The new member of his pack seemed to fit right in. As quiet as Dan, kind, courteous, and considerate. Rascal obviously couldn’t say all these things, but being a dog, he had senses that told him things that humans aren’t always so good at picking up. Things like the emotions radiating from both men at that table. Rascal knew that something was going on, long before either man would be able to acknowledge it. Rascal didn’t mind. It was just his way. He knew things. It’s what dogs do.

  After Jonathan seemed to be finished eating his breakfast, and the coffee pot was emptied, the two men helped each other clean up. That’s when things seemed to get awkward. Now what? Jonathan all but expected to be tossed out on his hiney to fend for himself again, out there in the cold, the snow. Dan, on the other hand, wondered how to take the next step, whatever that next step would be. He didn’t know, but he was certain that he wouldn’t be able to toss the kid back out on the street, erm, into the forest. He could never do that. Not after what he’d been told the night before. So instead, he gestured to the couch and moved his own frame into the living room, where he sat down in his rocking chair.

  Jonathan was scared. It was as if his courage faltered, afraid that this was it. He would be asked to leave. He just didn’t have it in him to spend another night out in the cold. He had been so ready to die the day before, just when he spotted Dan out there by the lake, and after having tasted the comforts of a house, the heat of a shower, slept in a comfortable bed, felt the heartbeat of another man next to him, he just couldn’t imagine ever going at it alone again, ever.

  Dan watched Jonathan’s distress. He could clearly see that the boy was scared, and he didn’t know what to do about it. His relationship with Sean, his first serious relationship ever, had been relatively carefree. Both men understood each other, both uncomplicated, no drama. Heck, Jonathan had been more drama in one night than Sean had been in the five years they were together.

  Now that was not entirely true, but who are we to argue with Dan’s feelings.

  Eventually, Dan broke their silence. “Hey, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve just been handed a death sentence. Listen, Jonathan, I promise I won’t hurt you. If I wanted to, I probably already would’ve...” Dan’s mind was racing, what am I saying? You’re scaring the kid even more! “I, uh...” He didn’t quite know how to proceed. “Listen, last night, or this morning, I, uh, you, the way we woke up, uh...” Dan felt himself blush. His heart was pulsing in his throat, making it difficult to speak, even if he’d known what to say.

  “I, uh, you, fuck, I’ll just say it how it is. I’m gay, you’ve obviously realized that. But you’re just a kid, seventeen, and I, uh, can’t, uh, you know...” His voice faltered, he couldn’t bring himself to say what was on his mind. I mean, every healthy man sports a boner in the morning. It probably meant nothing, right? And the spooning, the kid was probably just scared. He had a bad dream, and they did share the bed after all. He couldn’t really read anything into that, now could he? For all intents and purposes, Jonathan was straight, and, yes, a minor. Completely off limits, no matter what various body parts of Dan’s tried to interject.

  Jonathan looked up at Dan, stupefied, and without really wanting to say it, he blurted out, “But I’ll be eighteen next week!” He immediately wanted to retract that, as that had come across differently than he had intended. “I mean, I don’t want to have sex with you...” That came out even worse, Jonathan thought, blushing in tandem with Dan, and he was about to make it worse, if that was possible. “I mean, no, I mean I do, but what I meant was, that I’m not a child. Please don’t treat me like one. You have no idea what I’ve been through...” Then stop acting like one, he added silently.

  Dan was stunned. “You’re gay?”

  The silence in the room was awkward. Rascal, lying on his quilt, listened to the two members of his pack sitting there, trying to communicate so unsuccessfully. He wondered if he should intervene, but then again, that wouldn’t be of much help as they wouldn’t understand him anyway. He merely cocked his head, looking at Dan, as if to say, “You’re the older one, it’s your house, your pack, fix this!”

  Jonathan didn’t respond to Dan’s question. He looked down, ashamed that he’d been so blunt, that he’d expressed himself so stupidly. Then he made up his mind. The panic of what he undoubtedly felt was coming his way, short-circuiting his mind. “I’ll go. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll just get my clothes and leave. I’ll be fine,” he said, getting up from the couch, trying to move towards the bedroom, but Dan was faster, blocking his way, his arms spread wide. Jonathan literally walked right into him.

  As Dan’s arms came around his thin body, holding him tight, Jonathan’s resistance melted. Tears welled up and he cried. “I can’t. I can’t go out there again. Please don’t make me go. I’m so tired. I’m so exhausted...” Dan held him tightly, caressing through his hair with his hand, unsure how to stop the tsunami of emotion heading his way as Jonathan broke down in his arms. He led the boy back to the bedroom and all but tucked him into the bed, Jonathan shaking, crying, exhausted.

  Dan held his hand, gently stroking through his hair, trying to console the boy until his crying ceased. Eventually his breathing became more regular, until he had fallen asleep. He really must be exhausted, Dan figured, as he closed the bedroom door behind him, walking back into the living room and the work waiting for him.

  It was difficult to focus that day and he barely got any work done at all. When he checked his watch every now and then, he’d noticed that he’d been sitting at his desk for several hours. Outside, snow was still falling, the lake barely visible, although the shore was only a few yards from the cabin. I could never have thrown him out, no matter what.

  The sun had already set, dusk had come and gone when Dan finally heard the sound of the bedroom door opening. He looked in that direction and saw Jonathan’s frame in the door. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, still unsure of what to say and how.

  “Okay, thanks. It seems that I needed that. You’re most kind to let me use your bed. But I’ll sleep on the couch tonight...”

  Well, that’s progress, Dan figured, chuckling to himself. At least he’s not thinking of leaving anymore... “No need, the bed’s big enough for both of us. But you’ll have to move to the other side. You slept on my side last night,” he said, smiling at Jonathan, who immediately blushed.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was too tired to think last night.”

  “That’s okay. But we still need to talk, about this...,” Dan’s finger flipped back and forth between pointing at himself and Jonathan. “You and I. Although you may feel you want to sleep with me, and although you say you’re gay, you’re still a minor, and I could get in serious trouble, if...” His voice trailed, hoping he’d conveyed what he wanted to say.

  Jonathan nodded, but there was something on his mind, and he wondered how he could say it without being thrown out of the house. Sure, he was attracted to Dan, the man being kind and handsome and all, but he had never actually been with anyone. He knew what would happen if his father ever found out, so he had only fantasized about being with another boy, a man.

  Jonathan also remembered being led into Dan’s bedroom after his nightmare the night before. He remembered falling into the warm bed, realizing that it must’ve been where Dan had slept minutes earlier, breathing in the scent of the man, relishing the feeling of comfort and safety. There had been something else. The smell of Dan had aroused
him, and Jonathan found it impossible to fall asleep, particularly as Dan climbed into the bed behind him. He pretended to sleep, lying as quietly as he possibly could, listening to Dan, his breathing, how it eventually evened out and turned into a light snore. It was so endearing. Jonathan had been rock hard, but even more so, his throat was dry and his entire body was shaking ever so slightly. Not because he was cold, but because he was so horny. He’d never felt like that before. Then again, he’d never been in bed with another man before, certainly not one looking as good as Dan.

  After a while, he had turned around and watched Dan from behind, lying on the side, his back turned towards Jonathan. It felt as if he’d watched him forever when sleep finally came to Jonathan and he drifted off to dream. His final memory was of scooting over to Dan, spooning the man, seeking out the comfort, warmth and security he’d lacked for so long.

  He’d woken up feeling Dan’s strong hands on his arm, caressing his hand, and it sent new chills down his spine, his cock pulsating against Dan’s ass cheeks, straining in the sweat pants Jonathan was wearing. Ooops! He didn’t dare move. He hadn’t dared to say a word, afraid to ruin the moment, afraid of being tossed out into the cold again.

  So how could he convey to Dan his longing for him, his need for closeness? They had already hugged a couple of times, but he didn’t want to take it as a signal, because the man’s words had expressed something entirely different.

  Jonathan decided that there was only one way to convey his needs, his desires to Dan, and that was by telling him his story, from the beginning.