Page 36 of Snowballing

“Must be the guy you called. Do you want me to come with you?” Gareth asked.

“Nah, I got it. You and Trey can try to sleep if you want. You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

Gareth seemed to relax at that thought. “Thanks. Hope it’s not too bad.”

“Me too.”

With a nod, I left the room to answer the door. I should’ve said good night, but all the tension built from our mutual staring had been deflated by the doorbell. The spell was broken.

* * *

A pipe had burst.

That was the gist of it. The plumber kindly informed me that several of the pipes on that side of the house were missing their insulation. It was likely they were installed improperly, and he said he’d be sending the photographic evidence he had taken to the insurance company on my behalf. He also gave me several recommendations for contractors to repair the water damage.

By the time he and his team left, it was well past three, but at least the water was back on.

I was as quiet as I could be opening the door to my bedroom. The light from the kitchen was enough to see Gareth at the foot of my bed in the sleeping bag, and the lump that was Trey on the far side of my bed.

With the door shut, the room was plunged into darkness, but I was familiar enough to navigate to my side of the bed. I gently flipped back the covers and scooted close enough to Trey for a kiss on the head.

“Good night, kiddo.” I added a quick squeeze of his arm. It felt much too big to be-

“I know I’m younger than you, but kiddo? Is this another one of your roleplay fantasies?”

I ripped my hand off Gareth’s arm and launched myself backwards. Too far.

“Shit!”

Instinctively, I grabbed at something - the sheets, the comforter - but I was too heavy and just pulled it all with me. With a thud, I landed on the floor.

“You okay?” Gareth whispered. “I’ll get a light.”

“No! I’m fine.” The last thing I needed was to risk waking Trey.

It was too late. Gareth turned on one of the two reading lights on the headboard, bathing his shorts-less body in a warm glow. From the floor, my eyes had a direct view of his white cotton-covered bulge, and he noticed.

“I’m sorry, but I sleep naked. It felt like I was suffocating in those clothes.”

“But you’re still wearing the shirt,” I replied, standing up to collect myself and the blankets.

Gareth shrugged. “It smelled good.”

Bad cock. Do not get hard! That is not the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“I thought you were Trey,” I explained.

“I guessed as much.”

There was finally enough blanket back on the bed that it covered up his crotch, and blood could pump to other places in my body again. I bent over to gather the last of the blankets and slid under the covers.

“What happened? Everything all set with the water?” Gareth had his elbow on the pillow, head propped, waiting for my response. The shirt fit him well. Too well. The thin cotton hugged his pecs, his nipples evident through the tight fabric. I couldn’t look away.

“Uh, yeah. Burst pipe. Shitty install. They vacuumed all the water out and I’ll call a few contractors in the morning to get estimates. Started a load of laundry too.”

“Wow. That’s so…”

“Efficient?” I suggested.