Drowned_in_light (drownedinlight7) wrote,

RPM fic

 Fog covered the road ahead of him. He was trying to focus on the dark road, he really was, but Scott constantly found himself thinking back to the scene he found himself playing in not thirty minutes before. Maybe he should slow down, especially on the gravel. He would not get anywhere quickly, but he would be alive. Not that he wanted to be right now. He tried to think of what his mother or brother would say, that he should not wish himself dead over a guy, and he tried to hold on to that.

He should not have started dating Shawn. Scott had known that from the beginning. Shawn was probably not gay or even bi. Or if he was one or the other, he was one of the worst closet cases Scott had ever met. Scott was not exactly out and about, himself but in the many usually small military towns he knew he had to choose his friends wisely or else he might have to put his martial arts experience to good use. But he knew he ranked about a five on the Kinsey scale. Some days it even felt like a perfect six. Shawn could not even tell himself he liked screwing around with guys.

And that was all he and Scott had done. They could never just been alone together, they either had to be with a large group of people or screwing each other’s brains out (which largely consisted of Scott giving blowjobs and not getting much in return). And then tonight, Shawn invited him over. Scott should have known there would be a party going on. It was how a macho guy like Shawn operated, throwing a party the second his parents walked out the door. But he had thought he at least meant enough to the other guys that he would not have found him in the throes of orgasmic bliss with the most popular bitch in school.

Scott felt really stupid for trusting a guy like Shawn. But he thought he felt stupider for not remembering to fill up his gas tank, especially as the car came to a slow stop on the gravel road. Of course, he had to go to the party tonight. He had to take the way through the woods home; he could not have taken the slightly longer high way route where someone was bound to help him. If he looked anywhere in the car, he knew he would not find his phone, because it had been dead that morning, so he left it to charge on the kitchen counter. As luck would have it, it was mid- fall in the middle of the woods, and all he had in his car to wear was a red hoodie.

He let his head fall against the horn, making a loud ‘beep’ shriek through the forest causing some things with wings to go flying from tree to tree. He was going to have to walk the ten miles it would take to get out of the woods. There was a small convenience store right after you got out of the woods, and maybe he could get someone to give him a ride back to his car. But it was going to be cold at this time of night, and it was only going to get colder. Scott pulled the hoodie over his head, really wishing he had brought his letterman’s jacket with him to the party. He pulled the keys from the ignition, and opened his car door, to the rush of cold, night air. He shut the door, locked them all around and then stuffed his hands in his pockets as he started to walk.

Humming to himself as he walked along the path, mostly to keep the sounds of the woods from creeping inside his head, he wondered if maybe he should run some of the ten miles. After all, he did a pretty decent eight minute mile, and if he ran and walked on and off, he might get there faster, and he might manage to warm himself up. Breathing in, Scott raised his arms and legs and began to run.

Scott did not think about when he began to sweat or when he began to shiver. He did not have a watch to tell him when he slowed down, and when he began to stumble instead of walk, or when his eyelids began to droop. He certainly did not know when he finally collapsed, unable to stop quivering against the cold, or keep his eyes open any longer. But he remembered feeling cold. Very, very cold.

When he woke up, Scott felt much warmer. His weary eyes took in a fire not far from the end of his feet which were covered with many blankets. A familiar red hoodie, along with a tee-shirt and jeans hung from a line in front of the fire. The room around him smelt strongly of pine and from what he could see was made entirely from logs. He lay under a series of many soft blankets and quilts that touched his bare skin. And Scott was sure there was an arm wrapped around his waist. When he turned to confront this arm, he found himself staring into the deepest brown eyes he had ever seen.

“Your throat probably still feels a little raw,” the man to whom the eyes and the arm belonged said. “You were breathing harshly when I found you, and still screaming out for help in your sleep.” The man was also naked beneath the blankets and pulled them together.

“You found me?” Scott croaked, trying not to notice this man’s hard body.

“I found your car first,” he said. “It was a bad night to go for a walk in so little clothing. You were lucky you weren’t as frozen as you could have been. I found you at a good time.” The man untangled himself from Scott and pulled back his part of the blankets. The air out side of them was so much cooler that it made Scott shiver. Though completely naked, the man did not seem to care as he walked toward a small kitchen and procured a cup of water with a straw. He returned to Scott and ordered, “Sit up, you need some fluid in you.” Scott sat up, and felt a little dizzy, though not as dizzy as he could have been. Thanking his mother for her constant doctoring, he sipped slowly at the water. Then he started, spilling droplets on the blankets.

“My parents!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t come home!”

“They know,” the man said. “I called them as soon as I had you stripped and warmed up a little. The emergency call sheet you keep in your wallet probably saved them a little worry.” Scott again thanked his mother for her little nuisances. “Your father had thought that you were out late partying. They may not be able to get to you soon though. The fog brought snow with it, and it’s been snowing ever since I found you last night. It doesn’t look like it will stop soon. Finish drinking that. I’ll make you some broth.”

Scott sipped slowly through the straw as he watched the naked man work his way around the kitchen. The dark eyes flitted up to meet his. “Do you like what you see?” Scott averted his gaze.

“Sorry, I, uh, I didn’t mean to stare.” He could feel the man not relieve his gaze, so, Scott turned to look back to the fire, and drew the blankets up around him. “Well, um, you know my name, so what’s yours?”

“It isn’t any of my business if you go and leave your name lying around for people to find,” the man said. “I do not give up mine so easily.”

“You don’t tell people your—” Scott did not get out the last word, as when he looked up, the man was crouching down beside him, his limp cock hanging just before Scott’s face.

“I don’t give my name for free,” said the man, holding out a steaming bowl. “Drink this.” Scott forced himself to look at the bowl, and only at the bowl, as he took it into his hands and began to drink the broth down slowly, so he would not burn his tongue. “That should warm you from the inside out. I don’t believe you are in danger of hypothermia anymore, though I have a feeling you might be headed for a nasty cold. The soup should help with that as well, and then I think it would be best if you went back to sleep.”

“Do you…do you maybe have any extra clothes I can borrow?” Scott asked when he had swallowed a mouthful of broth. “It feels weird being like this.”

“You will be warmer this way,” the man said.

“Are you warm?” Scott asked.

“Oh yes,” the man said. He stayed crouched, waiting for Scott to finish his broth, encouraging the younger man to sip a little faster. By the time he finished the bowl, he did feel warmth rising up from his stomach, and sleep clouding his eyes. “Lie back and rest. You do not want to get sick.” Scott did not resist as the man took the bowl from his hands, and pressed him back into the bedding, the blankets being tucked in around him. But even with how foggy and tired he felt, he still noticed when the man came back around and climbed in on the other side of the blankets with him. “I would not want you to be cold,” the man said, wrapping his arm around Scott. “Sleep, little one.”

Before Scott could protest both of them being naked and in very close quarters, or being called little one, or even think to be aroused, he yawned, and closed his eyes. Scott slept.

When he woke again, the man was gone, and his bladder was pressing against his muscles and skin feeling like it might explode. Scott flung back the blankets, not caring how the sudden rush of cooler air raised goose flesh on his skin. He stumbled to his feet, and looked around him. There was a hall just past the kitchen, where there appeared to be other rooms. Scott ran as fast as he could, and looking to the first room, he found what closely enough resembled a toilet (and certainly smelt like one). He decided not to contest what it was, only pee in it and apologize later if he had gotten it wrong.

Once he had relieved himself, he realized that the toilet more resembled an outhouse as there was nothing to flush, but the waste took care of itself somewhere in the earth. He turned, only to jump when he saw the man standing in the door way. He was dressed in all black, including a black long coat dusted with snow.

“I see you found the latrine,” he remarked. “Are you hungry?” Now that he had one need taken care of, Scott realized that he was both hungry and thirsty.

“Um, yeah,” Scott replied, covering himself. The man snorted.

“Are you that ashamed of yourself? Come, your clothing is dry.” The man busied himself in the kitchen, while Scott found his clothes in a pile at the foot of the makeshift bed the man kept in front of the fire. Scott dressed, and noticed how mussed the bed was, probably from him sleeping in it. He pulled the many blankets apart, and straightened them out one by one, folding them just down from the pillows. “What a polite guest you are.” The man stood above him holding two bowls. Scott took one and noticed that he was no longer wearing his long coat. “Come and sit closer to the fire, you will probably start feeling the cold soon if you don’t.”

Scott obeyed and moved closer to the fire, eating in silence as the man did the same.
Tags: 2000/50 project, dillon, fanfiction, power rangers rpm, scott
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