Chapter 11 - Ethan
The air between them was tight and viscous, sticky with smoke, resin, and the kind of silent pressure that made a man want to crawl out of his own skin.
Cole didn’t say a thing, just watched the fire die slow, his face lit up in the shifting orange and blue.
Ethan let himself lean into the silence, the bitter hum of weed and bourbon softening everything except the pulse in his chest. If there was a right way to start, he had no clue.
The fire coughed sparks, lighting up a quick slice of Cole’s jawline. Ethan watched how the muscles tensed and relaxed, how his hands curled on his knees. He wanted to talk but didn’t want to break the spell.
Cole beat him to it. “Hell of a day,” he said, voice thick. “Thought we were gonna lose Jack to the river.”
Ethan smirked, trying for lightness. “Yeah, and who would make all the bad jokes then?”
Cole actually smiled. “Wouldn’t be the same.” He glanced at Ethan, really looked, then went back to the flames.
It could have gone on like that forever—two men hiding in the noise of the world—but the liquor sloshed a little courage to the surface.
Cole poked at the coals with a stick, watched embers collapse, then let his shoulders drop, the last bit of tension running out with the night air.
“Got a question for you,” Ethan said, not quite meeting Cole’s eyes.
Cole nodded, waiting.
“You ever get—” Ethan started, then stopped. He blew out a breath, scratched the side of his nose, then tried again. “On the trail, or just out in the woods, you ever get so horny you can’t think straight?”
Cole laughed, a little too loud. “Yeah.”
Ethan’s face went hot. He tried to mask it, but the buzz stripped him bare. “I’m hard more than I’m not. Especially out here, away from all the shit.”
Cole grunted. “Same.” He looked away, then back, slow. “Didn’t think it was normal.”
“It’s normal,” Ethan said, voice catching. “I mean, I hope it is, because I’d hate to be the only pervert here.”
A slow grin crept over Cole’s face. “You’re definitely not.”
The air shifted. He ran with it. “When you run these trips, how do you deal with it?”
Cole looked up at the sky, thinking. “I don’t. I try to stay busy. Try to ignore it. Sometimes I jerk off in my tent or the woods, if it gets bad. You?”
Ethan smiled. “Same, I’m guilty of the quick jerk and bust to get that relief and then move on.” He let the confession hang.
Cole made a sound, almost a laugh. “You ever think about what it was like a hundred years ago? Whole months out here, no women, just men and open country.”
Ethan nodded. “I’ve thought about it quite a bit while out here on the trail.”
Cole’s jaw ticked. “Reckon they found ways to deal with it. Even if they never talked about it.”
“Probably,” Ethan said.
Cole reached for the flask, took a swig, then passed it to Ethan. Their fingers brushed, a quick burst of heat, gone almost before it landed. Ethan’s breath stuttered, but he took a swig.
He passed it back. “You know, I always wondered,” Ethan said, voice gone soft, “if those guys ever… helped each other out. You know?”
Cole went quiet. Then, low, “I know they did.”
Ethan’s mouth dried out. “How?”
Cole poked the stick into the ashes, the motion sharp. “I’ve heard stories. The men on those cattle drives would get so desperate they’d fuck anything. Didn’t matter.”
The silence between them stretched again, but it wasn’t empty this time. It was the opposite—a thickening, like honey poured slow.
Ethan glanced down. His cock had started to harden, pressing against the zipper of his jeans. He made no move to hide it.
Cole didn’t hide his either.
Ethan scooted closer on the log, his thigh now touched the denim of Cole’s. He wanted to act like it was accidental, but even in the faint light, the move was obvious.
Cole didn’t move away. For a long moment, they just breathed. Ethan tried to focus on the orange filaments tracing through the coals, but every part of his attention narrowed to the point where their legs met.
He risked a glance. Cole’s face was unreadable, eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his hat. He looked like he was calculating risk, weighing the weight of everything that could go wrong.
Ethan cleared his throat, “You know, I keep thinking about what you said. About what those men did on the trail to find relief.”
Cole’s voice came out thick, syrupy. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ethan steadied himself. “The idea of being that desperate. Of wanting something so bad you’d break all the rules for it.”
Cole made a sound low in his chest, almost a growl. “You’re not the only one,” he said.
They both stared into the fire, but it wasn’t the flames keeping them warm.
The tension had grown so sharp it made Ethan’s skin itch.
He glanced again at Cole—at the lines of muscle under his shirt, the rough square of his jaw, the way his forearms braced against his thighs.
The urge to reach out, to touch, to submit, was a live wire beneath Ethan’s skin.
His cock was throbbing, straining at the front of his jeans.
Cole’s hands flexed and curled, then uncurled. He looked at Ethan, and the force of it nearly knocked him flat. Blue eyes, wide open, pupils dark as tar. “You ever just… need it so bad you don’t care about the fallout?”
Ethan swallowed. “I do now.”
Cole’s lip twitched. “Yeah?”
Ethan nodded, and his voice cracked just a little. “I’d do anything to get this out of my system.” He realized, with sudden clarity, that he had nothing to lose. He was a divorced man, hundreds of miles from anyone who gave a shit. He could take what he wanted, just this once.
He slid his hand over, letting it rest, light as a question, on Cole’s thigh. Even through the denim, Cole’s leg was hot, tense and trembling like a horse before the gate drops.
Cole’s breath caught. He looked at Ethan’s hand, then back at Ethan. The gaze was so intense, so naked, that Ethan almost chickened out. But Cole didn’t stop him.
Ethan was terrified. He’d never done anything with a man—not a kiss, not a touch, nothing. He didn’t know the rules, didn’t even know if there were rules. But he wanted it, needed it, worse than anything he could remember.
He leaned in, close enough to feel the heat rolling off Cole. The world was reduced to firelight and the rough rasp of Cole’s breath, heavy and uneven. Ethan got down on his knees in front of Cole, and he felt the solid ridge of Cole’s cock, hard and insistent, pressing up against his jeans.
Cole didn’t flinch or back off. Instead, he exhaled a shudder as he shifted his hips forward, as if daring Ethan to go further.
“You sure about this?” Ethan asked, voice so soft Cole almost missed it.
Cole could barely speak. “I’m really not sure.” They sat in silence for a moment before Cole nodded, barely a movement at all, but it was permission.
Ethan ran his thumb up Cole’s thigh, feeling the muscle jump under his hand.
He was shaking—maybe from cold, maybe from the adrenaline—but he pressed on, letting his hand drift higher, to the crease where thigh met hip.
He could feel the heat, the unmistakable outline of Cole’s cock straining beneath the fabric.
He wanted to touch it so badly his own dick ached, leaking pre-come into his briefs.
He looked up and found Cole staring at his mouth, eyes dark with desire, a hunger simmering just beneath the surface that made it clear Cole wanted to use his mouth. The intensity of that gaze sent a shiver down Ethan’s spine, igniting a fire of anticipation that pooled low in his stomach.
Ethan froze, unsure how to begin. He let his hand slide all the way up, fingers tracing along the seam of Cole’s jeans, pausing at the bulge.
Cole shuddered, the breath leaving him in a low moan.
Ethan craved to take Cole into his mouth, to wrap his lips around the thick shaft of his cock. The thought of pleasuring Cole, of bringing him the release he so desperately needed and deserved, ignited a fire in Ethan’s core. He could barely think. He just wanted more.
He pressed his hand harder into Cole’s thigh, feeling the cock beneath, desperate and needing release. Cole shifted, opening his legs wider, giving Ethan more space to come between them.
Ethan’s fingers moved up, finding the waistband of Cole’s jeans, his hands trembling. He looked at Cole for a sign to stop, but Cole’s eyes were closed, lost in sensation. His mouth hung open, and his breathing was ragged, every exhale a promise of what might come next.
The fire was all but dead, the two of them breathing each other’s air, bodies pressed tight together. All the shame, the fear, was drowned out by need.
Ethan let his hand cup the hard shape of Cole’s cock, squeezing just enough to make Cole jerk in his seat. Cole’s eyes snapped open, wild, pleading.
Ethan moved his hand in slow, testing strokes, up and down the length through denim, each pass making Cole’s hips buck. Ethan could feel his own cock leaking, wetting the front of his pants.
Cole’s hands gripped the log, white-knuckled, as if holding on was the only thing keeping him from shattering. His whole body was rigid, vibrating with want.
Ethan’s courage grew with every heartbeat. He leaned in and started to unzip Cole’s jeans. Ethan grinned, letting the confidence wash through him.
He could feel the end coming, a slow, inevitable climb to something he’d never known before. All the waiting, the wondering, the years of silence—it all led here, to this moment.
He wanted Cole, and Cole wanted him, and nothing else mattered.
They were both shaking, both right at the edge, and Ethan knew—without a doubt—that this was what he’d been missing his whole life.
Ethan unbuttoned Cole’s jeans. For a few perfect seconds, Cole looked at him with a hunger that could have burned the forest down. Then, with no warning, the expression broke. Desire crumpled into panic. Cole jerked back like he’d touched an electric wire.
His hands snapped to his thighs, pinning Ethan’s in place for a half-beat, then peeling them off gently but firmly. Cole’s chest heaved; he looked away, jaw clenching, face caught in a strange dance between shame and something like mourning.
“I can’t,” he rasped, voice shredded by regret. “I—shit—I need to get some sleep.”
He stood, too fast, nearly stumbling over the remains of the fire pit.
Cole turned around, in the embers’ weak glow, Cole looked pale.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.
After a moment he turned around and was gone, boots crunching through the needles, tent zipper screaming shut in the darkness.
Ethan sat there, stunned, the shock of rejection setting his ears ringing.
The log under him felt like it would swallow him whole.
His whole body still thrummed with want, every nerve ending alight.
He tried to process the whiplash—one minute at the center of the universe, the next left orbiting nothing.
He stared at his hands, then at the fire, then at the empty spot where Cole had been. His cock ached, the front of his jeans wet with pre-cum.
He tried to stand, but his knees buckled. The night was cold again, the noise of the creek louder than before, like it was mocking him.
Had he gone too far? Misread every signal? Ruined the only thing that had made sense since he’d stepped off the plane in Montana?
He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the rough grit of stubble, the sweat and smoke clinging to his skin. In the dark, with nothing but the red blink of the coals and the echo of his own breathing, Ethan wanted to crawl out of himself.
But his body had other plans.
The need hadn’t faded; if anything, it had intensified, a primal urge coursing through Ethan’s veins.
Alone by the fire, high and half-drunk, he felt the weight of his desire pressing against the front of his jeans, throbbing with an urgency that was impossible to ignore.
He could almost taste Cole’s skin on his lips, the imagined warmth of their bodies entwined igniting a fire deep within him.
With a sigh of frustration, Ethan pushed himself up from the log, the cool night air biting at his skin as he decided that maybe a walk could clear his mind and help him shake off this relentless horniness that felt like it was consuming him whole.
He made his way toward the creek. Each step felt heavy, his heart racing in tandem with the pulse of need that thrummed through him.
Moonlight illuminated the path ahead. Ethan’s thoughts spiraled back to Cole.
He wondered if Cole would ever look at him again, if he’d ever get another chance, and most of all, he wondered what it would be like to not be afraid of what he wanted.