Rhys yawned as he stretched his arms out, expecting to tap the glass of the Impala window. Instead, his arms kept going. For a brief moment, he wondered if he slept in his car with the window open.

All at once, the memories of yesterday came flooding back. He wasn’t in the couch seats of the Impala but on Mason’s sofa. Where he would be staying for eleven days.

Rhys sat up with a bolt, a worm of guilt wriggling in his stomach. Even though Mason had offered, Rhys couldn’t help but feel like he was taking advantage of the guy. He needed to find him a good Christmas present ASAP.

He was fully awake, looking around the darkened apartment. Socket sat on the kitchen counter, staring at him intently with her big wide eyes.

“Morning, beautiful,” Rhys commented as he sat up, running his hands through his hair.

“Meow!” Socket replied cheerfully.

“Yeah, a shower does sound good.” Rhys pulled himself up from the couch, noticing a towel neatly folded on the kitchen island next to Socket, along with a handwritten note.

‘Gone downstairs early to work. Shower is free if you want one!’

Rhys smiled, looking the note over. It stunned him how considerate Mason was, especially compared with his disastrous Grindr date the other night. This almost stranger had asked about putting on music, gotten him a beer, and offered him a place to sleep. All as an early Christmas present.

Rhys’s mind needed to be firing on all cylinders if he was going to find a gift for Mason. And his sister Debbie, at some point.

He could go into town for a look. Rhys had looked over Hidden Creek on Google maps — no mall, but a big enough main street and a farmer’s market open today. Even if he couldn’t find the exact gift, he could get inspiration and then order from his parents’ Amazon Prime.

Shower first. Rhys picked up the towel and fished his travel wash kit from his bag, along with a fresh change of clothes. As he walked to the bathroom, Socket leapt from the counter, prowling into the corner. Rhys heard loud crunching as she chowed down on some dry kibble left in her bowl.

Rhys locked the door to the bathroom as he pulled off his relatively clean Tallahassee T-shirt. He wasn’t even sure why he’d bought the shirt. He guessed because everyone else at college had and he didn’t want to be left out.

But the truth was finally settling in, even though Rhys had only left college a few days ago. He’d always felt left out at Tallahassee. The T-shirt just served as a painful reminder that he didn’t belong there.

Maybe he could subtly suggest on the family group chat that he wanted a couple new T-shirts for Christmas. Hopefully his secret Santa would take the hint.

Rhys peeled off the rest of his clothes and jumped into the shower, experimenting with the controls briefly. He quickly found the right temperature and turned up the pressure, letting the water beat onto his back. It helped relax what little muscle he did have. He sighed. He was too big to be a twink, too small to be a masc. Caught in the middle as always.

He was no Mason, that was for sure. That man was built like an action star and wouldn’t look out of place standing next to The Rock or Arnie in his prime. He must spend some serious time at the gym.

Rhys worked the shampoo through his hair, keeping his eyes shut. Images of Mason in the shower, washing off the engine grease and sweat after a hard day’s work, danced across his mind.

His cock sprang to attention.

A sigh escaped his lips. It had been almost a week since his last release, and he was latching on to the first hot guy he came across. There was no way he would jerk off in Mason’s shower. It would get in the way of his friendship with him.

If that was even what was brewing between the two men. Rhys had never really formed an adult friendship outside his family and knew he could very well be reading too much into this. But Mason had already given him the Christmas present of crashing on his couch. Only friends got each other gifts, surely?

Rhys put those thoughts aside, but his erection persisted. He groaned. It wasn’t going to take care of itself.

He wrapped his hand around his now rock-hard cock. The first few strokes he kept his mind blank, waiting for one of his standard jerk-off fantasies to pop into his head.

Instead, all he could imagine was Mason sprawled on top of him, a king-sized bed beneath. Mason gently kissed Rhys’s chest, then stomach, making his way to his excited cock.

“Hmm, the chef is as tasty as his food,” Mason said with a chuckle before wrapping his mouth about Rhys’s begging cock.

Rhys yelped, tearing his hand away from his cock.

No.

That path would lead to dangerous emotions. Getting attached and reading into feelings that weren’t there.

Feelings that could never be reciprocated by a man like Mason.

Rhys shook his head, breathing in deep a couple times. He had lots of fun sex in his life, he just needed to remember one of those.

Like his junior year mixer at the LGBT society. He’d spent half the night clinging to the wall, nursing a club soda and vodka from the obligatory red cup of parties. That was until William Gellar from the football team had waltzed on over. After barely five minutes of chat, they had gone up to William’s dorm room.

Rhys had the whole night committed to memory for times like these. He wrapped his hand around his now semi-hard cock, stroking a few times to bring his member back to attention.

The memory of William Gellar kissing his neck danced across Rhys’s mind, his muscular arms hugging him from behind. But when Rhys turned around to kiss the behemoth of a football player, he had morphed back into Mason, smiling down at him, his white T-shirt clinging to his pecs, covered in streaks of engine grease.

“Oh, no, I got your shirt dirty. We’d better take that off.”

“Goddammit!” Rhys opened his eyes, breathing heavy as he leaned against the tiled wall of the shower.

“MEOW!” Socket called out to him. Rhys hadn’t spent a lot of time around cats, but she seemed to be asking, ‘Are you okay? You are yelling a lot, human.’

“Yeah, I’m fine. Be out in a minute.”

“Meow.” Rhys translated that to ‘Very well then, human.’

Rhys turned the shower temperature to the minimum, suppressing his yelp as the icy water ran down his body.

Within a minute, Rhys’s erection had wilted away. Maybe tomorrow he could sneak his phone in, watch some porn to keep his base attractions laser-focused. Rhys shuddered from the cold, feeling a wave of frustration wash over him.

Why couldn’t he suppress his Mason crush? Especially when they’d been getting along so well. He felt irritated that he couldn’t control his mind for just five minutes in the shower.

Their conversations last night had been so stimulating. Most of his meals Rhys spent catching up on a show on Netflix or the occasional YouTube video. But they’d spent the whole evening talking about their lives. Rhys with his Grandpa Louie, Mason growing up in Hidden Creek with his younger brother and parents.

His own parents often reminisced about their first date, talking at dinner so long they missed the movie, so they ended up chatting on the pier. A ‘pier-tier’ date, the standard no one ever reached in the Meadow household.

Until last night?

Rhys was probably just confusing friendship feelings for boyfriend ones. That was it. He’d drifted along well enough the last couple years of college, but his course mates had felt more like work colleagues than deep friends.

As Rhys shut off the water, he knew he had to honor his friendship with Mason. The first of his adult life. The two of them could hang out over the next week, really solidify their bond. And then catch up on each other’s Facebook every month or so. That was what adults did, right?

Rhys dried himself off quickly, applying a layer of deodorant before brushing his teeth and choosing his clothes for the day. He just had to bury his sinful feelings for Mason until they wilted away.

He went back into the main living area of the apartment, Socket perched back on the kitchen counter. Rhys wondered if it was her favorite spot because she could see most of the apartment with ease. A kitty watchtower.

He made sure he had his essential items on him. Cell phone. Chapstick. Wallet. Keys. Pen. Headphones.

He looked at the keys in his hands. His parents’ house was over a thousand miles away, and the Impala downstairs wouldn’t be driving anywhere in a hurry. He popped his old keys in his travel bag, putting Mason’s spare keys in their place.

Rhys gave his peace lily a quick spray of water before writing a note on his phone to buy some plant food while he was here. The peace lily could probably last up to a few weeks with just water alone, but Rhys liked to make sure it was taken care of. He had a natural green thumb and kept the plant alive for over four years.

He’d gotten an A+ in Horticultural 101. A whole semester of looking after plants, growing flowers, studying what made them tick. He’d really taken to the craft and the professor who ran the course. She’d begged him to carry on past the entry-level course, but Rhys had felt the pressure to declare his major, so he had gone with business studies to help maximize the Meadows Hardware business. But he knew he could also/still put his gardening skills to good use and often found himself fantasizing about having his own backyard.

First, he’d need to get on the property ladder. A year or two saving up, paying off what students loans he had left while living in his old childhood room. It would be easier now he didn’t have to share it with his brother, Bill. Then finding the right house. Then adapting the garden.

In three years’ time, he could be living his dream. Rhys sighed. Almost as long as it took him to obtain his college degree.

Rhys checked the apartment door was locked behind him, Socket playing with one of her many toys as he left. He made his way down the stairs, looking out over the vast garage below. The two classic sixties cars were still hoisted up in their car lifts. Rhys wondered if Mason was waiting on parts for them as well.

There was no Mason to be found, only Tristan sitting at one of the two desks, eating a big burrito as he watched more YouTube videos. Rhys instantly felt himself tense up. He got the impression that, unlike Mason, Tristan’s behavior was dependent on who was around at the time. How would he treat Rhys without Mason watching over him?

“Morning,” Rhys said, anxiously waiting for his reply.

He thought it was best to put a good foot forward. Tristan barely glanced up from his screen as he took another big mouthful of his burrito, a chunk of salsa dripping out the end and onto his white T-shirt. Rhys pondered how Mason could wear a grease-stained shirt and look like an Adonis, while some salsa on Tristan made his member softer than a thousand cold showers.

Rhys nodded at Tristan, who barely acknowledged his presence. Rhys thought that was odd but didn’t want to make an issue out of it. Instead, he headed to the big open metal doors of the garage.

“Mason left a note for ya,” Tristan said without even bothering to swallow his mouthful.

Rhys strolled back past Tristan’s desk, heading for Mason’s as Tristan snickered at the computer screen. He could clearly see chunks of beef, raw onion, and salsa in Tristan’s mouth, and Rhys felt his stomach flip in revulsion.

He picked up the note from Mason’s desk, folding it open. He instantly noticed some dried salsa in the corner and looked around at Tristan. Had he read the note?

Rhys glared at the man behind the desk, who was laughing once more at the YouTube video on his screen. All Rhys could hear was a woman crying as a man pleaded ‘Don’t you love me anymore?’ Again, Rhys wondered if he should say something. Call Tristan out on his behavior. But it wasn’t his place.

He glanced over the note. Mason had gone out to chase an invoice. But he’d left Rhys the addresses of the farmer’s market, the LGBT center, and a local restaurant that apparently did amazing peanut butter cream pie.

He’d also scribbled down his personal cell number. Rhys felt his stomach once again filling up with butterflies. It made sense for them to grab each other’s phone numbers, but seeing it written down made Rhys feel giddy all of a sudden.

He entered the number into his phone, sliding on his headphones and heading out the door. He didn’t even say goodbye to Tristan.

That’ll show him.

If he’d even notice.

He made his way toward Moore Wood, the heart of the farmer’s market. Yesterday he’d woken up in his car, his chest sticky with dried flecks of cum. Today he’d woken up with a new friend and had over a week to explore the mysterious town of Hidden Creek.