Red Riding Hood

Chapter Twenty: "Monster Under My Bed"

Blushing a bright red, Jack forced himself to get back up into bed. Adjusting on the bed, he kept the pillow pressed to his crotch and tried to think of anything else to calm down his raging hard on. He hated when this happened. It was uncomfortable and made him feel so dirty that he couldn't just turn it off. Shifting restlessly, he tried to ignore the aching he felt to fall back asleep. Eventually, the aching faded enough that he could put his pillow back in its proper place. Snuggling into it, he exhaled heavily. That was the weirdest dream that he'd ever had. He blamed it on all the talk about werewolves and the pressure he was under. Although, the parts with Mark had been... not entirely bad. Letting himself smile just a little, he began to close his eyes but stopped as he noticed a shadow being casted through the window set above his head. The shadow was crouched low and creeping toward the window. Just as its hand reached for the glass, Jack jerked his head up to stare at the white curtain. Jack eased up onto all fours, waiting to bolt off the bed if it tried to break the glass. The shadow's hand touched the glass, then tapped it lightly.

Relaxing a bit, Jack almost chuckled. A prowler that knocked? That wasn't normal. Easing the curtain to the side, Jack smiled. Mark was crouched close to the window and looked terrified as he scanned the outside. Seeing the patrolmen with lanterns wondering around, Jack spurred into action. Throwing the curtain aside, he quietly and quickly unbolted the latch and lifted it up enough for Mark to crawl in. Once Mark was in, Jack eased the window back down and latched it before throwing the curtain back in place. Just as the curtain settled, lantern light illuminated the other side. For a moment Jack wondered if Geralf's spy had seen Mark or not. When the light moved on, Jack finally turned to Mark. Mark stood beside the bed shaking violently. His teeth were chattering, and his breathing was jagged. Upon easing from the bed, Jack felt a cold dampness and quickly lit a small candle on the nightstand to get a better look at him. Was Mark hurt? Was he bleeding? With the little candle lit, Jack looked at his wet fingers but saw the wetness was clear. He thought it might be snow, until he sniffed it. Instantly his nose burned with the strong smell of moonshine.

Turning to face Mark, Mark eased back from the candle and chattered out with great effort. "I... hid... in the... cask." Jack rushed up to touch him, seeing the snow clinging to his wet skin. Shaking his head, Jack whispered out. "Are you crazy? Why did you come here?" Mark met his eyes with his soft fragile puppy eyes when he told him. "I tried to leave... There were too many. I didn't know where else to go. And..." Mark sniffled, slowly sinking to his knees as he shivered more. Biting his lip, Jack shuffled his feet before helping him. As soaked as Mark was, he couldn't imagine him getting far if he had managed to get beyond the wall. Sinking to his own knees, Jack carefully began to pry Mark's wet clothes off, mumbling out. "Why didn't you stay in the cellar until you were dry?" Mark hugged his bare chest, answering as he shuddered. "I couldn't. The Hunters kept sneaking down. I waited until a few passed out and bolted." Pulling a spare blanket off the dresser, Jack wrapped it around Mark's shoulders and blushed out shyly. "Take your pants off. I'll... I might have something for you." Covering himself, Mark quickly and almost happily removed his clothes.

Gathering them up, Jack stashed his wet clothes where they could dry and searched for a nightshirt that was too big for him. His dad had always given him one or two that he couldn't wear... yet. His dad was a bigger man then him for now, but he'd been told his 'daddy' body would eventually fill him out. Finding one, he brought it over to him. Touching Mark's stiffening wet hair, Jack went to his wash pitcher in the corner. Pouring the water into a little porcelain basin, he soaked a washcloth in it and wrung it out before going back. Mark slipped on the long night shirt and Jack gently started rubbing his hair with the cloth to loosen up the frozen strands. He thought about letting Mark do it but wanted him to warm up a bit. Rubbing the cloth over his hair, he watched it thaw out and kept going back to the wash pitcher to remove the smell of alcohol from the loose strands. Going back and forth to wring out the washcloth and come back, he started to blush more and more as Mark started to enjoy it. Whenever he touched him, Mark would close his eyes and tilt his head for him as he worked. Finally removing the cloth, Jack ran his hand through Mark's wet hair just to feel if it was still cold or smelled of alcohol.