Thaw In Winter

Chip raced around the yard, barking his excitement, stopping every once in awhile to anoint a tree or bush or to rub his face in the fluffy snow. Mark grinned at the big dogs antics then sobered as he thought of Joe. Joe had said he planned on beginning his hike back to the visitor center this morning. With this snow, that was going to be a real bitch of a trip.

Mark immediately began to formulate a plan. He called Chip in and headed upstairs to dress. Joe Moning might need some help getting back to his car, Mark intended to offer that help. He grinned at the thought of seeing Joe again.

After dressing, he fixed himself a quick breakfast, then headed to the garage and fired up his favorite winter toy. Snowmobiling had become a favored activity for Mark. It was a fun way to break up the monotony of long winter days.

Following the trail he and Chip had used the day before, in no time at all Mark arrived at Joe's campsite. He was surprised to see Joe's tent still up. He was sure that Joe would have broken camp by now and been on his way. Mark had intended to pick up his trail from the campsite.

He throttled the snowmobile to a standstill, shutting it down. The ensuing silence was eerie, "Joe?" he called. No answer.

Mark's brows beetled in puzzlement. "Joe!" he called again. Nothing.

Concern began to churn in his gut. Mark headed for the tent and took a look inside. It was empty except for a sleeping bag and a few of Joe's possessions. Backing out he studied the ground, searching for tracks. He found them, headed into the trees. He followed the faint track that was already filling with the continuing snowfall. Alert for any movement or sound, he walked on, searching the surrounding area as he went. Thoughts of renegade bears nudged his consciousness as he peered warily into the silent forest. All remained quiet, his own footsteps muffled by the fallen snow.

The trail took a sudden turn and there, a few steps ahead, he spotted a large dark lump on the ground, partially covered with snow. "Joe!" he yelled, running to the fallen man.

Mark knelt, his heart pounding with apprehension and gently ran his hand over Joe's cheek. His skin was pale and cold. Joe's forehead sported a large lump, the area discolored, a small cut oozing blood. "Joe, Joe can you hear me buddy?" Relief sliced through him when Joe groaned.

Joe rolled to his back, another groan grating from his throat, "Mark?"

"Yeah man, it's me. Are you alright?"

Joe opened his eyes and attempted a smile. "Think so, caught my foot on a root hidden under the snow." he explained haltingly, his teeth chattering, "Fell against a tree, hit my head... fell flat on my face." he grimaced, "Got a hell of a headache."

Mark stood, as gently as possible he pulled the big man to his feet. Joe swayed unsteadily and Mark quickly moved to his side, wrapping his arm around Joe's waist, urging him to place his arm over Mark's shoulder.

"Ok Joe, nice and easy buddy, let's get you out of here."

The two men walked slowly, silently back to Joe's campsite. Mark could feel shivers run through Joe's body. "Joe are you ok?" he asked. Mark was really worried. Joe was pale, his lips tinged with blue, his shivers increasing as they walked.

"C..c..cold." he stuttered.

They made the campsite and Mark took them straight to his snowmobile. "I'm taking you home with me Joe. We gotta get you warm." He maneuvered Joe in place then seated himself, reaching back to pull Joe's arms around his waist. Joe's body leaned forward, his weight resting against Mark's back, "Hold on tight to me buddy. Can you do that?" he felt Joe's nod, the movement reassuring.

Mark started slowly. When he felt Joe's arms tighten around him, he opened the throttle and sped home as quickly as possible. He knew Joe was experiencing what he hoped was only mild hypothermia, or possibly shock from his injury. He thought over his options and decided the best course of action would be to get Joe into a tub of warm water.

Plan in place, when they arrived home, he lost no time implementing it. Again he got an arm around Joe's waist and helped him into the house. By this time, Joe was one constant shiver. Mark shushed Chip, who was barking and gamboling around with excitement. They headed for the stairs and began the climb. Partway up, Joe's strength began to flag.

"Don't quit on me now Joe." Mark encouraged, he was panting lightly. Joe was no light weight. He wasn't sure he could make it upstairs if Joe passed out.

Joe marshaled his reserves. Together they made the stairs, staggering into Mark's room and into the adjoining bathroom. Mark lowered him to the toilet and closing the lid, plopped him down. He quickly turned the water on to fill the big porcelain tub, then turned back to Joe and began to peel him out of his clothing.

Coat, sweatshirt, flannel shirt, tee shirt, one by one Mark peeled the layers away and dropped them into a pile on the floor. He knelt in front of Joe, unlacing his hiking boots and easing them off his feet. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Mark couldn't help but admire the treasure he was revealing.

Joe was beautiful. Burnished skin covered firm rippling muscle. The darker blonde hair on his chest was fairly thick and silky soft. It covered hard, defined pecs and framed quarter size, brown areolas topped with nipples that were pinched tight from the cold. It became sparser as it trailed over a substantial six pack to disappear under the waistband of his jeans. That same silky soft hair was just visible under his armpits. His arms were solid with prominent veins and sinews that trailed down to his hands. His hands were large, the fingers long, broad yet tapered with a graceful look to them, artist's hands.

Mark held one of Joe's feet in his hands and removed his sock. Never having paid much attention to such things before, Mark was struck by the flowing symmetry of Joe's foot. It was long, high arched, broad at the ball, tapering through the arch then flaring out again to the heel. It reminded him of a painting by Michelangelo. Its lack of warmth also reminded him of Joe's need. He removed Joe's other sock then stood to check the tub.

The water level was almost right, the bathroom had become steamy and warm. Mark returned to Joe and helped him stand. Joe's shivers, though constant, seemed to be lessening in intensity. Curtly reminding himself to stay focused on Joe's care, Mark reached for the buckle of Joe's belt. He opened it, then the top button of his jeans. Sliding the zipper down, he grasped the waistbands of jeans and briefs, sliding Joe's remaining covering down and away, coming eye to eye, in a manner of speaking, with a slice of heaven. As with the rest of Joe, his package was impressive. Due to the cold, his cock was drawn up, but still showed four plump and tempting inches. Surrounded by a thick bush of curling silk, it rested over his lush and generous scrotum. Steeling himself to resist the urge to touch, Mark urged Joe to step out of his jeans and into the tub. Joe groaned with pleasure and relief as the warm water enfolded him.

Mark smiled at Joe's heartfelt utterance. He took a towel from a nearby cupboard and folding it, placed it behind Joe on the rim of the tub. "Slide down and put your head back." he instructed. Joe obeyed and sighed as his chest and shoulders were engulfed in the warm soothing liquid.

"Joe, you've got a small cut along with a lump on your forehead. I'm going to wash the blood off your face. I'll try not to hurt you." Mark reached for a wash cloth and soaked it. Sitting down on the rim of the tub, he gently cleansed the blood from the wound on Joe's forehead. Fortunately the cut was very small. The damage consisted mostly of bruised, swollen tissue.

"Better?" he asked. Joe nodded. "Think you'll be ok for a few minutes? I want to call the park and let them know you're here. I wouldn't want them to start a search for you when you don't show up when you're expected." Again Joe nodded and uttered a low, "Yeah."

Mark retreated downstairs, making the call and also taking the time to calm down. The whole episode, from the rescue to the undressing had his adrenalin pumped. Joe had a seriously lethal affect on Mark's senses, not to mention his libido.

He entered the kitchen and started a new pot of coffee. Rummaging in the cupboards, he found the tray his grandma sometimes used to bring him stuff in bed when he'd been sick. Mark poured a glass of orange juice, a glass of water and two cups of coffee. Adding milk and sugar to the tray he headed back up stairs.

Mark returned to the bathroom to find Joe still reclined, his eyes closed. "You awake Joe?"

Joe stirred, "Yeah, barely. Guess I should get out of here before I drown."

"Need help?"

"Think I can make it now." Joe rose, water sheeting down his glistening form.

Mark was shocked by the surge of pure lust that shook him. In seconds his cock went from semi erect to full blown steel. It was enough to make a man dizzy. He wanted nothing more than to take this vision of masculine perfection in his arms and worship him. Then Joe swayed.

Instantly Mark was there, holding him steady. The water from Joe's skin soaked into Mark's clothes, the wet heat melding them together from chest to thigh. Their eyes met and locked. For a timeless moment they merged, blue eyes and hazel, open and vulnerable as they swam in each others soul. Mark felt Joe's cock stirring, the movement a caress against his own insistent bulge. He swallowed, suddenly unsure of what to do, what to say.

The moment was broken by a long, insistent sniff and a tentative scratch at the door. Both men looked at the door then back to each other, grins and chuckles breaking the tension. Mark helped Joe out of the tub, handing him a towel. Joe slowly dried himself. Finishing his legs and feet he straightened and wrapped the towel around his waist.

"Damn," Joe muttered as he swayed again, "I keep getting dizzy."

"Sit." Mark ordered as he again seated Joe on the closed toilet. "Still have that headache?"

"Oh yeah." Joe affirmed.

Mark rummaged in a drawer of the vanity, finding a bottle of ibuprofen. "Can you take these?" he asked Joe, showing him the bottle. At Joe's nod he opened the bottle, shaking three into his open hand, "Juice or water?"

"Juice, please."

While Joe downed the pills and juice, Mark went into the bedroom, petting Chip to reassure the big guy that everything was fine. He straightened his unmade bed, grateful the sheets were clean. Returning to the bathroom he guided Joe to the bed. Letting his towel slide to the floor, Joe climbed in as Mark pulled the covers over him. Mark retreated to the bathroom with the towel and emerged carrying the tray.

"I brought coffee. You interested?"

"Sounds good." Joe accepted.

With Joe settled, sipping coffee, Mark relaxed in the easy chair by the bed with his own cup. He watched Joe, pleased at the return of color to his skin. His eyes were drawn to the bruised lump on Joe's forehead. He was still somewhat worried by the dizzy spells.

"You really gave me a scare man." he blurted out. Mark flushed. He hadn't meant to say the words aloud. They just suddenly seemed to appear, unavoidable, revealing feelings he didn't want to think about, much less express.

Joe set his cup down on the tray that rested on the beside table. "For awhile, I was pretty scared myself, until you showed up." he confessed honestly. "I woke up once after I hit my head. I came to enough to realize that I could die out there. It shook me Mark. I'm almost glad I passed out again. Then you came. You saved my life. I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am for everything you've done for me." Joe's eyes were filled with sincerity, shiny with unshed tears.

Mark's own eyes were teary, "I'm glad I met you yesterday Joe. I believe it was providential intervention. God's not ready for you yet buddy. He used me to see to it. Believe me, I'm the one who's grateful. If I hadn't thought to check on you I'd never have forgiven myself." he smiled, "Let's not get all maudlin, you're here and you're ok. Would you like to call your wife and let her know where you are?"

Joe's eyes met Mark's their expression faintly startled, wholly puzzled. He looked down at the wedding band on his finger, his eyes widening as though seeing it for the first time. "Wife?" he whispered. His eyes again found Mark's as the color drained from his face. Had he not been lying on the bed, Joe would have fallen. He collapsed against the pillows.

Mark was instantly by his side. He sat on the bed, reaching for Joe's hand, "What is it Joe, what's wrong baby?"

Mark's unconsciously uttered endearment went unremarked by both men as Joe struggled to put into words the reason for his shock. His hand tightened on Mark's as he fought to calm the swirling fear inside. He felt lost until he caught Mark's concerned gaze. What he saw there anchored him, calmed and soothed.

"I can't remember, Mark." he murmured. The spoken words, the open acknowledgment caused the fear to surge with renewed strength. Joe felt his world take a dizzying dip.

"Hey. Hey buddy, look at me." Mark squeezed and rubbed Joe's cold hands, working to calm the fear he could see in his eyes. Gaining Joe's attention he continued, "It's gonna be alright Joe. Stay calm and talk to me."

Joe nodded, grateful for Mark's steady strength. He took a deep breath and shuddered with relief, absorbing Mark's quiet conviction and the warmth of his touch.

"Now," Mark began, "when you say you can't remember, what are we talking about here exactly? You remembered me, right?"

Joe nodded an affirmative, "Yeah Mark, I remembered you, and yesterday when we met. I remember coming to the park and setting up camp. Beyond that I...I'm not sure. I get these flashes of things that look familiar, no they are familiar, I know these things." he paused and took another deep breath, "But there are holes. I can't tell you where I live or what kind of car I drive or..." he looked at the band on his finger, "or who's on the other end of this. I just don't remember. What am I going to do Mark?" his hand tightened on Mark's as panic threatened.

Mark returned Joe's grip, the almost painful pressure gaining his attention, "First thing you're going to do is stay calm. Got it?" he ordered.

Joe smiled wryly as Mark took charge, "Got it." he acknowledged. He felt himself relax. It felt good to let someone else take the lead. Joe was hit with the sudden revelation that that was something he seldom did. It comforted him to know that he could remember something about himself. Perhaps it would be ok, just as Mark said.

Mark pulled out his cell phone, "I'm calling the local doctor Joe. He's an old friend. I think we need a professional opinion."

Mark paced to the window as the call went through. He was unaware of Joe's intent perusal of his body and the resultant heat that filled his eyes. He turned when Joe stirred on the bed, again unaware as Joe struggled to hide a sudden erection, and his confusion as to the cause, amidst the covers. He gave Joe a reassuring smile, puzzled at Joe's almost pained expression.

His attention was drawn away by a hello at the other end of the line. He breathed a sigh of relief at having caught Doc Williams at home. Mark spoke at length to the doctor, filling him in on Joe's accident, the lump on his head, the dizziness and loss of memory. He then spent the next several minutes listening to the doctor, his head nodding as he uttered an occasional, "Uh huh or I see." At one point he moved to the beside and bent, staring into Joe's eyes, reporting what he saw. With a last few pleasantries and promises to get together, Mark ended the call and studied Joe.

"Well?" Joe asked impatiently.

"Doc says you have what sounds like temporary, selective amnesia, brought about by the blow to your head. He said that in the majority of cases, the patient's memory gradually returns over a period of days or weeks. Considering the fact that you are already remembering some things, he believes this will be the case with you. What most concerns him is the dizziness. He thinks you may have a slight concussion." Mark concluded

"So where do we go from here?"

"Well, we're not going anywhere. Apparently we're in the middle of a good sized snow storm. The roads are drifting badly and the snow plows won't go through till the snow stops. Doc says as long as your injuries aren't life threatening, we shouldn't try to get to town. There's nothing he could do for you that we can't do right here." Mark seated himself on the side of the bed. "Starting with you getting some rest and me waking you up every hour on the hour, which, if you ask me, is a lousy way to get some rest, but Doc says it's necessary in case you have a concussion."

Joe blew out a breath, "Whoa. I'm really sorry man, I'm causing you all kinds of problems."

"Joe, believe me when I say it's not a problem. I... well it's just not, ok? Mark wanted to tell Joe of the feelings he had brewing inside but he knew that it wouldn't be appropriate and most likely would be unwelcome. Joe was straight, he had a wife somewhere, even if he couldn't remember her.

Both men sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Mark looked at his watch. He was amazed to see it was almost one in the afternoon. "Hey, are you hungry? I'll bet you haven't had anything to eat today have you?"

"I could eat." Joe admitted. He began to throw the covers aside.

"Oh no," Mark insisted, "Doc says bed rest for twenty four hours. You're officially an invalid my friend." he teased with a grin, "Sir will be having lunch in bed."

Joe frowned and grimaced. "Jeez, I feel like a useless, wimpy lump."

Mark chuckled as he picked up the tray that held the empty coffee cups and glasses. He gave Joe's shoulder a squeeze, "Believe me buddy, you're not wimpy, and you're definitely not a lump." Giving Joe a wink, he headed for the door, "As for being useless, I'm sure there are a lot of people who could find a use for you." Myself included. Mark left Joe to wonder why his touch had caused the return of his hardon.

In the kitchen, Mark adjusted his own erection, "Damn Chip, that guy is really getting to me." Chip cocked his head and wagged his tail, "Every time I touch him it's instant woody."

Mark shook his head and sighed. Having Joe here was exciting and yet it left him feeling melancholy as well. Over the years he'd spent so much time studying and working that there hadn't been much time to think about finding a mate, even if he'd had the nerve to try. He'd spent too much time hiding, afraid to face the problems his sexuality would have dealt him. So here he was, alone, without a clue as to how to change the status quo.

Mark made a resolution at that moment. Somehow, someway, he was going to find out what he'd been missing. It was time to open up and give love a chance, no matter how scared he was. He didn't want to be alone for the rest of his life. That decided he went back to his lunch preparations with renewed energy.

As he worked, he couldn't help but wish he could explore the possibilities with Joe. There was something about Joe that struck a chord deep inside. Joe excited him and yet he was comfortable with him, almost as if they'd known each other for a long time. He'd found himself attracted to a few men over the years, but nothing came close to this magnitude. To suddenly find someone who stirred such strong feeling inside with such ease, only to be denied the right to test those feelings, to see if they could possibly be reciprocated, was frustrating. A prior claim made his hopes impossible.

Carrying hearty bean and bacon soup, ham and cheese sandwiches, and iced tea for two, Mark returned upstairs to find Joe dozing. He set the tray down on the bedside table and went to dig in the hall closet. He soon found what he was looking for, a small folding table. With that in hand he returned to the bedroom and gently shook Joe.