The Need to Become Fearless

"Never let fear decide your future."

He walks slowly, unsteadily. I can tell by the way he walks that he's incredibly uncomfortable, like if he were only granted one wish it would be to have warm dry clothes on.

"Are you doin' okay, buddy?" I ask him, trying to sound comforting, but I think it only serves to patronize him.

"I'm wet," he whimpers softly, bowing his head.

"That's what she said..." I try and lighten the mood, but it only succeeds in bringing forth a light smile. "I have clothes... that you could change in to. Or... or I could drive you home? I just want you to be comfortable..."

My voice trails away as he's already pulling off his soaking shirt over his head like it was on fire. Next came off the jeans with a loud wet noise on the floor.

Oh Jesus he looks so much better naked than I imagined.

It's only after I gasped that I realized that my mouth was hanging open. I closed it as quickly as I could and hoped that he hadn't noticed.

"My underwear is still dry, thank fucking god."

He seems to be talking more to himself than me. The body is just too perfect. His muscled shoulders and chest are begging to be touched.

"Jack, did you hear me?"

"What?" I say back, looking foggy headed.

"Do you have a towel?"

"Ah, yeah. Somewhere around here. In the closet, I think. I'll... um, I'll go get one. You just... you stay here. Um, okay I'm going."

I make my way towards the hallway, trying unsuccessfully to peel my eyes away from his glistening tummy, swallowing thickly as I go. Scrambling as fast as I can towards the closet, I grab the first one I see and sprint back to the living room, unwilling to miss a single second of this show.

"Thanks," he mumbles, and opens the towel with a smirk. "Shouldn't be surprised that it's Disney. Your obsession knows no bounds."

I'm slightly embarrassed to see that I've grabbed a "Lady and the Tramp," collectible towel. But fuck, it's too late to go back now.

"Hey man. I told you I was into it. You had the chance to fly away and never come back."

"That's not my style," he shrugs as he pats himself dry. "Besides you rescued me from the sprinkler of death. That deserves a proper thank you."

I tilt my head at him and am about to ask what a proper thank you was when he leans over and kisses me full on the lips.

A hot guy, still drying off from being incredibly wet, is in his underwear and kissing me. Don't moan. For fuck's sake, Jack control your moaning.

My mouth betrays my mind and I moan like a fucking porn star. He pulls away and laughs.

"God damn it," I grumble.

"No, it's fine. I'm getting more used to the noises. Can't wait to hear more of them in the near future."

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. You could be shit in bed," I giggle, and am so relieved that he's found his ability to laugh once again.

"So what's a guy gotta do around here to get a t-shirt and a pair of joggers?"

"Have you seen you? You're gonna have to either fight me or fuck me to get any clothes from me. I'm enjoying the view."

"Oh yeah?" He asks and stands up straight, dropping the towel at his side and taking measured steps towards me.

"What if I say pretty please?" He questions when he's mere inches away. For a moment my breath is caught in my lungs, and if it weren't for the fact that he'd just had a panic attack, I'd be all over him.

"Ugh, fine. Sit. I'll be right back."

In a couple of minutes I find some clothes that I'm pretty sure will fit him. Maybe they'll bee a little tight in the ass and the chest, but I'm not going to complain about it. He smirks as he takes them from me and puts them on. Tight in both areas, but still breathable enough to be sure.

"Now let's work on that head wound," I say, pointing at his forehead. "I think I have something in the first aid kit. Just sit down and relax while I get it.

He gives a small nod and sits down on the couch. The first aid kit is in the bathroom cabinet, and I'm back in just another few minutes.

"Ok, this is going to sting a bit, but you'll feel better afterwards."

I pour a bit of peroxide onto a fluffy white cotton ball and press it to his head. He lets out a little hiss, but beyond that doesn't say anything else. His eyes watch me as I move meticulously, making sure to dab up and blood that's left over. Soon all that left is a tiny red patch that'll scab over, and with a final press to the bandaid, it's finished.

"I want to go swimming with you," he blurts out suddenly, and to say that I'm taken aback would be an understatement.

"Mark... I think that would be a wonderful time. But... I mean..." I gesture vaguely at the cut, and he nods in understanding.

"I know, but baby steps? Like we talked about before. Let's get a kiddie pool. I need to have something to take back to the group. If I don't make changes, how can I expect them to? I'm tired of being a hypocrite. And today... the way you helped me... I know that I can trust you, Jack. You calm me down. You center me. I think you'll really be able to change me in the best possible way."

The sweetness in what he wants to do, and the bravery is almost overwhelming. I need to do something as well. I trust him too. He does just as much for me that he says I do for him.

"I'll agree to the kiddie pool if we also work on my fear of heights. Maybe a small hill or something? I know that I can do it if you're there with me."

His smile is amazing, and this time I'm ready for the kiss.