Follow the River

I’m holed up in my room again.

Yeah, I know. Real mature.

But I can’t handle being around River right now. Not without wanting to rip his damn clothes off and shoving my cock into his ass.

Or his mouth.

Again.

At this point, I just want him however I can get him, which is so fucked up.

I don’t like guys, let alone want to shove my cock in any of their fucking orifices.

But River seems to be the goddamn exception.

So I shut myself in my room, painting, drawing, and reading to pass the time. But it only helps take the edge off. I’m starting to understand why Rupunzel despised being locked up in that tower.

At least she had her lizard thing to keep her company instead of a sexy quarterback to hide from. Although, I have a feeling she might agree to a trade with me any day of the week.

There’s an idea...

Now all I have to do is figure out a way to get River into the tower and snatch the little lizard without getting caught...

Jesus Christ.

I’m going insane if I’m plotting ways to kidnap a fucking fictional cartoon chameleon.

I need to get out of this cabin. Now.

My phone’s weather app tells me the temperature is around forty degrees, positively balmy.

Whatthefuckever. I’ll gladly let my balls turn into ice cubes than stay locked in this room for one more minute.

Shoving my watercolor pens and pad into my backpack, I get ready to make an escape. If only for a little while.

I pad out of my room on quiet feet, silently shutting the door behind me, and pray River is in his room and not the living room. As I pass his room, my ears catch the distinct sounds of From Ashes To New’s “Crazy” flowing from under the door.

I smirk, knowing it’s most likely his song of the week, seeing as I’ve heard it plenty of times in the last couple days.

At least I’m not the only one feeling insane.

Slipping into my winter gear and boots, I throw a set of snow spikes in my backpack, as well as a blanket and a bottle of water, before slinging it over my shoulders. I set out for the lake Coach had mentioned was a short hike from here.

I put my headphones in my ears and quickly flip on the same song River was listening to when I snuck past his room. He has good taste, as much as I loathe to admit it.

Letting the music pour into me, I move at a steady pace, following the well-marked trail starting right behind the cabin next to the creek. My body is flooded with endorphins from the fresh air and the music pulsing through my veins. I hike for just under half an hour before reaching the lake overlook that we were promised was worth the steep incline.

He wasn’t wrong.

A turquoise blue lake sits completely frozen in the bowl of the surrounding mountains. Their jagged, rocky peaks are imposing when paired with the snow covered pines and silence of the afternoon.

I’m utterly alone.

And I feel it.

As much as I hate to even think it, I wish River was here, so I had someone to share this with.

Shaking the thought from my head, I lay the blanket out on a log and pull out all the necessary supplies in order for me to paint the scene before me.

I know I won’t do it justice.

Not because I doubt myself or my skill when it comes to art. It’s just that beautiful.

For a while, I manage to lose myself in the music and the task in front of me, allowing my hand to relieve my mind of worry, if only for a short while.

When I begin to focus my attention on painting the lake the most vivid shade of aqua, I’m reminded of a set of eyes, matching them almost perfectly.

Those eyes, not only as blue as an alpine lake, also hold the same depth. But they are twice as captivating.

River’s eyes.

Fuck.

Inhaling a harsh, cold breath into my lungs, I let out a sigh.

Even when he isn’t here, he manages to worm his way into my thoughts. It’s like I will never evade him. No matter the amount of space I put between us.

Before I even know it, my mind wanders to the other day, him pressing me into the side of the convenience store, and the look in his eyes.

His resilience amazes me. Even after all the shit I’ve spewed his way, he still manages to come at me with determination and purpose.

Even when I have him in a position that screams of his vulnerability and begs for his submission, he has a knack for flipping things on me, showing his strength.

He’s done it time and time again. At this point, I’ve come to expect nothing less than a fight from him. If it were anyone else, I’d destroy them with the snap of a finger for daring to challenge me.

But not River.

For some reason, his defiance… turns me on.

Which, unfortunately, he knows all too well. He’s so much as called me out on it before.

And the way those aqua eyes bored into mine while he stroked my cock back in town told me everything I need to know.

He’s getting to me. We both know it.

I pride myself on being in control. In knowing when I'm out matched and it’s time to tap out. In having all the cards in my hand, just waiting for the right time to let them play out.

But when I opened my eyes and saw his gaze fixated on my lips, I almost lost it entirely.

Control slipped, and I sat there, daring him to do it. To try to take the upper hand from me.

And hell, the worst part of it all?

At that moment, I wanted him to do it.

To defy me. To challenge me.

I fucking wanted him to kiss me.

The sun dipped below the mountainous horizon ten minutes ago, but I can’t bring myself to head back to that God forsaken cabin.

Back to him.

Still, I find myself gathering my shit, throwing it into my backpack, and trekking back down the way I came. The only indication of the path I have are the lonely set of footprints serving as proof of my journey to the top.

As the cabin comes into view, I see the lights in the living room are on, signaling River must be in there. Probably waiting to ambush my ass the moment I step in the door.

Shocker.

I glance up and notice the black smoke billowing from the chimney, rising and fading out into the dusky sky. That sparks an idea.

Firewood.

We’ve been here nine days and neither of us, from what I can tell, has restocked the pile in the living room for the fireplace or the wood stove. And since I’m damn near desperate not to go back inside, I’ll take the extra few minutes of reprieve from River and the toxic cesspool of the cabin.

Swinging the door to the shed open, I begin grabbing pieces of wood stacked against the wall. At this point, I’m glad Coach had enough foresight to put the wood inside the shed and not stacked against the outside like most people would. There is easily a foot of snow on the ground, if not more, and trying to get to the wood under a pile of this shit would be a nightmare.

As if being stuck here with River Le

“Need some help?” I hear River’s voice call from behind me. My spine instantly goes rigid.

Goddammit.

I only wanted five more minutes without him trying to… shit. Do anything to me? Talk to me? Bully me?

Fuck with me?

Fuck me?