Together 

The sun had set an hour ago. Pacer was confident that his bike had charged enough to make a solid go of it tomorrow, standing at the upstairs bedroom window of the old manse, he studied the horizon as the light in the sky faded to black. The stars were already twinkling above, though a blackness started to snuff them out to the north. 

“That storm looks a lot closer. Probably will hit us before midnight.”

Wyatt didn’t answer. He had been quiet and shaken up all evening. It was unnerving to see him react that way, but admittedly it had been a gruesome sight. Pacer tried not to it to think about the last remnants of a human life at the other end of the hall. 

Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the corner of the landscape; the strike itself was shrouded in rainfall. It was a little closer than Pacer had anticipated. 

Thunder rolled through the tiny hamlet rattling windows and causing the large house to shudder. He turned and expected Wyatt to be cowering, but instead the boy suddenly appeared beside him at the window. 

“What are you doing?”

“I love thunderstorms. It’s one of my fav things about spring and summer. The storms roam the countryside and they go as quickly as they come. At night they seem so mysterious too.”

While Wyatt was talking, Pacer watched him and he seemed so animated and lively. A drastic change from the last few hours. The boy’s face lit up with another distant flash, his eyes locking onto the lightening on the horizon. Then the thunder rolled over them and then a smile spread across the boy’s face.  

“Do you think it’ll get closer?”

“I think so.” Pacer resumed his studious gaze outside. 

“I can’t wait—love the sound of rain.”

“Me too.”

Pacer relinquished the window to Wyatt soon after and shook off all the dust from the blankets on the bed. There wasn’t much evidence of critters and such between the sheets so that was comforting. The air was still somewhat warm but no doubt with the storm nearby it might cool down for a spell, so Pacer was attempting to prep the room for their stay. Probably no need for a fire, except perhaps in the morning to cook. 

“What do you have for food and rations?”

Wyatt was kneeling at the window and had just wrestled it opened a few inches. He turned and looked over to his backpack where the kitten was napping amongst a makeshift nest atop the bed side table. 

“I have enough for maybe a week if I really ration it out, but I don’t have anything to feed the cat. I think it’s getting weaker because it’s underfed.”

“Yeah, I don’t have much more than that either. In fact, I usually rely on hunting for most of my food and use rations in emergencies.”

“I sometimes can trap a wild hare, if I’m lucky. Usually I’m not so lucky though.”

“I can show you a trick for that! Maybe we can try that tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Wyatt nodded and returned to staring out the window. 

Pacer unlaced his boots and slid them off his tired feet. They were good boots, if a bit worn and a half size too big. He kicked them across the room flopped back onto the bed and left his feet dangle off the edge. The relief of having no pressure against his feet was near blissful. 

“It’s never felt so good to take off those boots!”

“That’s a good idea,” Wyatt sat cross legged on the floor and struggled to remove his boots. They looked a little worse for wear as well. He grunted pulling each boot off and tossed them aside in frustration. Then he began to massage his feet while sitting with his back to the window. A slight breeze rustle the hair at the top of his head. 

Pacer flopped over onto his stomach and reached back to pull off his socks. We wore two pairs with these boots to prevent calluses from developing too much. Each sock he tugged of he blindly through behind him and once his feet were exposed to the air he sighed. 

“That feels so much better!”

Wyatt was watching him and chuckled. 

“What? Don’t laugh or I’ll force you massage my feet!”

There was a soft blur of a sound that slowly spilled in through the window. The sound of rain drops hitting the ground rose to a wall of white noise within a minute, the intensity of which kept rising until it was a torrential downpour. The rain striking the roof above them rounded out the hushed drone of hundreds of thousands of droplets crashing down around them. 

“Hey!” Wyatt leapt up and started towards the bedroom door. “I’m going out in the rain!”

As settled as Pacer was, sprawled out on the bed, that idea took about three seconds to sink in and he too was sitting up, “Yes!”

Wyatt flung open the door and trotted over to the top of the stairs, descending in his sock feet. Pacer, trailing behind him completely bare foot, stopped at the top step. He waved Wyatt onward, “I’ll be right out!”

As Wyatt disappeared down and around the flight of stairs, Pacer took a few strides to the other end of the hallway. There was a narrow door beside the main bathroom which he opened. It was a linen closet of sorts with a few things on the shelves. He felt around in the darkness for something that had just occurred to him.

Downstairs, at the back door, Wyatt slid through the partially ajar door and stepped onto the wet steps. He expected the water to be cooler than it was. He didn’t care about getting any of his clothes wet and continued down the stone steps out onto the over grown walkway. Within seconds the rain drenched his hair and began to soak his clothing through to his skin. It felt absolutely refreshing! He stood there face upturned for what seemed glorious minutes, then he worked his fingers through his hair and felt the rain wash away all the grime and sweat of the last few days. What sunscreen was left on his skin began to rinse off with the downpour. 

“This is awesome.” Pacer’s voice was nearby now. Wyatt shook his head and wiped the rain from his in the hopes of seeing the other. 

A few feet away Pacer came to a stop with a bucket in hand. He set it down and raised his arms to the sky. The rain let up momentarily and he regarded Wyatt with a grin. 

“I had an idea! So I checked if I could find any soap.” He reached into the bucket and pulled out bar of soap and began to lather it up in his hands. Then he started washing his face with the handful of soap suds. The rain intensified just as Pacer mentioned something about the bucket and handed the soap over. 

With the soap in hand, Wyatt worked the solid chunk of soap between his hands and he quickly applied the lather onto his face and neck as the rainfall rinsed it away. The soap had a strange aroma—strong but not unpleasant. He then brought the bar up to his head and worked the soap right into his hair for a moment. The suds really built up and they began to sing his eyes.

“Ahh!” He dropped the soap on the ground and bent over.

“Hold on.” Pacer was beside him and guided him to rinse the soap out of his eyes.  As the pain subsided and he blinked away the irritant, Wyatt realized that Pacer had taken off his shirt. 

“You good?” Pacer asked. Wyatt simply nodded and watched the older boy use the soap to wash his shirt in the bucket. The rainfall surged and then eased up again but still remained a steady shower upon them. Once he was finished with the shirt Pacer flung it over his shoulder and proceeded to take off his pants. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m washing what I can while it’s raining.”

Wyatt saw Pacer stand there in nothing but a pair of grey briefs that clung to his body and work the soap into his pants. After a few minutes of elbow grease Pacer handed the bar of soap to Wyatt who took it after a moment of hesitation. Pacer continued to work the suds into the thick material. Wyatt in turn began to wash his own shirt. 

After dunking his pants into the bucket of rain water to rid them of the excess soap, Pacer draped them over his should and stood close to Wyatt. 

“It’s better if you do it like this,” Pacer gabbed Wyatt’s hands and motioned to show him how to use the soap more effectively.

“Thanks,” Wyatt managed to say. 

Lightning struck close by and thunder cracked loudly. Wyatt jumped and dropped his shirt onto the sodden ground. Pacer reached down and picked it up quickly. 

“Did you want to go back inside?” 

Wyatt shook his head, “I can do it.”

“Are you sure?”

No answer. Pacer watched as Wyatt finished up with his shirt.

“Here, I’ll hang these up inside while you keep going.” Pacer took Wyatt’s shirt and padded through puddles and up the stone steps into the house, leaving Wyatt standing outside by himself. Another lightening strike accompanied by thunder prompted him to slip out of his pants quickly and scrub them with some soap as swiftly as possible. It felt weird to be standing out in the rain in his boxers, but it was also invigorating. The intensity of the rain fluctuated a little less now, the bulk of the weather probably circumvented the hamlet and was probably past them now. 

 When Wyatt was finishing with his pants Pacer had returned from the house still only in his underwear, though he had something in his hands. 

“My socks!” He squatted down near the bucket and quickly dipped them into the water and applied soap. He looked up at Wyatt and extended a hand. “Hey, I’ll wash hours too.”

Wyatt tugged off his socks and realized that the rain was getting a little cooler now. And the wind was also picking up. Pacer made quick work of the socks. Wyatt had his pants slung over his shoulder and was ready to head back inside when Pacer suddenly slid off his briefs and started washing them. 

Wyatt almost didn’t notice but when a brief flash of light from distant lightening exposed the older boys full nudity Wyatt was stunned. 

“Quickly, you too!” Pacer pulled the front waistband of Wyatt’s underwear and dropped the bar of soap there. 

“What the—?” Wyatt stepped back. 

Pacer laughed and squatted again beside the bucket, dunking his briefs and swirling them around vigorously. Then, he pulled out some other cloth from the bucket and rose again facing Wyatt. 

“Come on, man! This is to wash everything thing else.” He brandished the soaked hand towel and looked at Wyatt expectantly. 

Wyatt reached for the soap and reluctantly slid his briefs down. He meant to remain kneeling so he didn’t feel so exposed but that position put Pacer’s groin at eye level. He kept his head down as he scrubbed with the soap, but his peripheral kept tugging at him. Even though it was dark, the random flashes of lightning both near and far were enough to distract him with the sight of Pacer’s unapologetic nakedness.

Wyatt finished washing his last item of clothing and was uncertain what his next move would be. Pacer squatted down beside him and grabbed the soap again, which was noticeably smaller than what they started with. He folded the towel over the soap and rubbed two parts of the towel against it aggressively. 

“Did you want to go first?” Pacer asked. After a moment of pause, he shrugged, dropped the soap into the bucket, and began soaping up his body. He started with his feet and legs in a hunched over position, then stood up to continue with his shoulders and arms. Finally, when Pacer was finished with his chest and his abdomen he simply stood there gazing down at Wyatt. 

“Can you do my back?”

Wyatt suddenly realized that he had been watching Pacer openly. And while that was embarrassing he also realized that in his position he was thankfully hiding an erection. In front of him was Pacer’s outstretched hand with the soapy towel. He grabbed it and before he could wonder about how to proceed, Pacer promptly turned around. 

Wyatt took a deep breath and stood. He was super conscious about not getting too close to Pacer, but he used one hand to press the cloth into the older boy’s shoulder and began to wipe in a circular motion. 

“You can press harder.”

Wyatt went from shoulder to shoulder, down the spine a ways and firmly scrubbed his back on either side, all the while watching Pacer’s body sway with the motion and the pressure he applied. He watched his efforts produce a foamy lather but soon the suds were washed away by the rain and revealed Pacer’s bare skin. By the time he had reached as low as his waist and hips, Wyatt’s heart was frantically beating within his chest. Without any notice Pacer turned around and grabbed the towel from him. 

“Ok, woah! I’ll do your back but you are taking care of that.” Pacer pointed down to Wyatt’s rigidity.

“Sorry!” Wyatt whirled around. Pacer gripped his shoulder before he could comlete the turn.

“Hey! It’s nothing to be sorry about. They have a mind of their own, and besides, yours is… well impressive.”

“What?” Wyatt looked over his shoulder. 

“Seriously,” Pacer let go as he continued. “I know what it’s like to have a rogue agent between my legs. I’m not much older than you.”

Pacer forced the taller boy to square up his shoulders and began to scrub his back. The long forceful strokes were not aiding Wyatt’s predicament. 

“To be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve let off some steam,”

Wyatt froze.

Pacer continued with the towel along the entirety of his back, and awkwardness notwithstanding, Wyatt had to admit that the scrubbing felt good. It had been days since the last time he had a throughout wash. Normally he wasn’t terribly concerned with personal hygiene when out scavenging because he was alone. Now, spending time with Pacer he was becoming more aware of it. 

— + —

Authors Note: While I wrote more of this chapter—how could I not—I will be setting that content aside for now, until I decide how I would like to offer it. Most likely it will be available as hidden secret or for paid members on my Patreon.