Ever since Joshua was a little boy, he was fascinated with thunderstorms. He loved to watch the way raindrops violently tap against the windows. He loved to hear the monstrous roars of thunder that caused the entire house to shudder. He especially loved to see blue streaks of lightning continuously piercing the black night sky.
And while his parents and teenage sisters prayed to God that the electricity stayed on for the duration of the adverse weather, Joshua silently prayed that it would go out. There's no better feeling than being completely shrouded in darkness. And this fatuation with gloomy weather stayed with him into adulthood.
Even now, as he sits in front of the fire in the living room. Every year, during his month-long vacation from work, he would spend at least one week in his parents' cabin. It sits in the middle of acres upon acres of woodland territory in the deep south of Alaska. And how lucky was he that the local weatherman predicted rain for that entire week?
He was fucking manic.
The only thing that had him a bit on edge though, was the wind that swished between the tall trees at breakneck speed. Even the biggest, strongest, most strapping tree in the world is liable to buckle under the pressure of those powerful gusts that are right outside. And what if one of those trees fell onto the cabin? Well, it'll be a tragedy for sure.
"Come on, positive thoughts. We'll be fine. I'll be fine," Josh reassures himself.
The cabin is a nice, small and cozy escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. So small in fact, the kitchen, the living room and the bedroom kind of mesh together into one big room. And from where he sits, he can see the sliding see-through glass door that leads to the front porch.
Clad in a chic set of green flannel pajamas; with one leg crossed over the other; he leans over to see if his mug of hot chocolate is cool enough for drinking. He grabs it by the handle and pauses. He could've sworn he heard voices just now.
He blames it on the wind and takes the cup to his lips, and pauses again.
The porch light begins to flicker.
"Please don't die, please don't die."
[The bulb dies]
"Dammit!"
He'll just have to change it tomorrow. There's no way he's going out in that rain right now. He doesn't have to worry long, because soon after, the lightning commences. It's currently 10pm. And even though it's pitch black outside, with each flash of electric blue light, the whole area lit up. Making it seem as though it was daytime.
The contrasting switch calms him. Light. Darkness. Light. Darkness.
Light.
Josh startles and lets out a high pitched scream; accidentally spilling the hot liquid onto his lap.
He screams again. It definitely wasn't ready for drinking.
His heartbeat thumps in his ears. Goosebumps appear on every part of his body. And right now, there's no denying that another warm liquid mixes with the hot chocolate to run down his legs.
On his front porch stands a tall hooded figure. Dressed in all black, looking exactly like a grim reaper that's ready to take him to the afterlife.
"Hey, hey you. Right there, I need some help," the man says, knocking away at the glass.
Josh is paralyzed. He doesn't know what to do. Why is this man even out here so late at night? The nearest dwelling is miles away. The compassionate side of him wants to open the door to see what's wrong, while the rational part of his brain admonishes him. He could be a killer. Are you crazy?
"Dude, I'm in a lot of pain. I'm not gonna hurt you, alright. I just want to come in and catch my bearings and make a quick phone call. Please."
There's a subtle undertone of desperation and distress in his voice that makes him seem genuine.
Josh's feet move on their own accord. He goes to the door, unlatches the bolts and slides it open, stepping aside so the soaked figure can enter.
"Thanks for doing this. I-I was fishing down by the river earlier and I was gonna camp there overnight but this fucking storm came outta nowhere." [He flails his hands exasperatedly.]
"My tent's gone, my phone's fucked. The map I had is wet and ruined. It's just that... You know what's crazy? I haven't caught anything all day. It's a total bust."
Josh clears the lump in his throat and says: "Damn, feels like a wasted trip huh? And wow, you're shivering. You should get outta these clothes. Stay right there."
He fetches a laundry basket and a few towels from the bathroom. And on his way back, he covertly grabs his stun gun from the table and tucks it neatly away in the waistband of his bottoms. Just in case.
"Okay, just put your wet clothes in here. I'll toss them in the drier and in the meantime, you can take a shower. There's hot water."
"Cool, thanks."
The man starts by unbuttoning his knee-length raincoat and taking his shirt off.
Josh subtly eyes his every move. His face is smooth and his jaw is rigid. His skin is the same shade as the warm and rich mahogany flooring throughout the cabin. His torso is completely bare of hair. Dark nipples sit atop a pair of well-conditioned mounds. And if you look close enough, his abdomen slightly hangs over his belt.
He then unbuttons his pants, and together with his underwear, he chucks them off. Not an ounce of shyness about him.
Josh turns to give him his privacy. But not before getting an eye full. The man's pelvis has a slight stubble of knotty curls. A dark, chubby, bare-headed penis and a drooping scrotum are nestled between a pair of strong, booming thighs. His shins are sturdy and his feet are large.
The sight makes Josh's penis fidget in his saturated pants.
"Alright, you can turn now." [The stranger says with a towel wrapped around his waist]
Josh takes the basket of wet clothes from him and they walk side by side to the bathroom. He looks over and notices that he's limping.
"Yeah, I kinda fell and twisted my ankle. I think I scraped myself up pretty badly too."
