Chapter 5: Jon’s Thoughts

Jon shut the door, leaning against it for a second as he let out a long breath.

Bob and Mark.

Standing side by side, they had been even more overwhelming in person than he expected. Identical in every way—burly, broad-shouldered, thickly built with those big beards, deep voices, and steady, confident energy. It was like someone had cloned the perfect image of rugged masculinity twice and dropped them onto his porch.

And yet, despite their imposing presence, they were so ... warm. Kind in a way men like them didn’t always allow themselves to be. They didn’t just fix pipes and hand over a bill. They asked him on a damn hike.

Jon exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

Were they straight?

They seemed straight. Hell, they seemed very straight. Married for decades, raised in a conservative farming family, worked in a blue-collar trade. Everything about them screamed straight—but Jon had seen too much in his life to make assumptions. He knew better.

Still ... no way in hell they read what he left out.

That erotic story? Definitely not every man’s cup of tea. If they had read it, they probably would have been weirded out—maybe even uncomfortable enough to avoid him. But no, they stood on his porch, smiling and asking him to hang out.

No, they probably hadn’t seen it. Or if they had, it clearly didn’t bother them.

Jon chuckled to himself. Damn, that would be something, though, wouldn’t it?

His mind wandered.

Bob and Mark. Handsome, rugged, stoic. Protective. Gentle but powerful. Nurturing.

Everything about them made Jon’s stomach tighten in ways he didn’t quite want to unpack. He had a type, and they were it—older, masculine, strong, and quietly dominant without trying. He’d spent years daydreaming about men like them.

Maybe that’s why his body reacted before his brain could stop it.

He shifted, heading to his bedroom, his mind already sinking deep into the fantasy forming there.

Jon was on his knees.

Bob and Mark towered over him, their identical bodies broad and strong, thickly muscled and covered in dark, coarse hair. Their bald heads gleamed under the dim light, their faces unreadable but filled with something deep—something powerful.

Jon’s hands trembled as he reached out, tracing over the rough, calloused skin of their thighs. They were so much bigger than him, so much stronger, and yet they wanted this. Wanted him.

“Good boy,” Bob murmured, his voice rich and warm. “You like taking care of us, don’t you, son?”

Jon shivered. The word—son—hit somewhere deep inside him, twisting in ways that made him weak.

Mark ran a hand through Jon’s hair, tilting his chin up. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

Jon nodded, “Yes, dads.” His breath hitching.

And then they were touching him—guiding him—letting him worship them. The heat of their bodies surrounded him, the scent of them filling his senses. He felt safe, owned, cherished. They groaned for him, their hands stroking over his skin, murmuring praise and affection in deep, rumbling voices. He worshipped, smelled, caressed, kissed, and rubbed every inch of both incredible men - and they loved his attention.

It was perfect.

Jon woke up with a start, his body tight with heat, his breath shallow.

“Shit...” he muttered, running a hand down his face.

His sheets were damp with sweat. His pulse still pounded from the intensity of it all.

Bob and Mark.

His chest rose and fell as he stared at the ceiling.

Jesus.

That was ... a lot.

Jon let out a shaky breath, sitting up and rubbing his hands over his face. He hadn’t had a dream that vivid in years. Maybe it was just seeing them together for the first time. Maybe it was their kindness, their strength, their easy presence. Maybe it was the way they felt like something more than just two strangers.

Or maybe he was just really fucking lonely.

Jon swung his legs over the side of the bed, shaking his head.

“Get it together, man,” he muttered to himself.

A hike. That’s all this was. Just two guys inviting another guy on a hike.

Nothing more.

And yet, as he got up, showered, and grabbed his gear for the day ahead, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was shifting—something he wasn’t ready to name just yet.