Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
As a result, they often were hungry, annoyed, and soaked—not a good combination when they could barely stand each other. They’d had so many shouting matches these days, a mere glance from Andrew could work him up. Logan wasn’t proud of himself, but it was what it was. He knew they were just lashing out, needing an outlet for their ever-growing frustration and fear, but it did nothing to alleviate those emotions.
With every passing day, the tiny hope that rescue was coming became smaller and smaller until it finally shriveled up and died.
No one was coming.
They were likely going to be stuck on this island for the rest of their lives.
The thought was difficult to accept, but eventually, Logan did accept it.
He had no idea what was going on in Andrew’s head—if he accepted it, too—but the guy had started seeking him out more often, for some stupid confrontation about everything and nothing. It didn’t seem to matter what they were fighting about; Andrew still stuck close to him. And Logan… He didn’t tell him to get lost. Couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Rationally, Logan understood what was going on. Humans were social creatures. They couldn’t survive on their own, without interacting with other humans. Even the most introverted people needed company once in a while, especially when they were stuck on a tiny island with nothing to do to pass the time.
It was just a base need for company. That was all it was. It didn’t mean Logan suddenly liked that bigoted dick, no matter how pleadingly he looked at him lately. If anything, those looks just annoyed him. Tell me we’ll be rescued. Tell me we’ll be okay. Tell me we won’t die here. Look at me, tell me, look at me.
It pissed Logan off. He’d never liked neediness, never wanted anyone to need him.
And yet here he was, tolerating those looks and those petty squabbles over nothing—because he needed them, too. Months with nothing but his own thoughts, without any purpose, were starting to drive him crazy. That was the only explanation for why Andrew’s needy behavior didn’t irritate him as much as it should have.
It still creeped him out—because part of him was starting to like being needed.
***
The need for social interaction he could tolerate.
The touching that started a few weeks after that was far more unsettling.
It started with small things. Andrew’s shoulder would sometimes bump against his. Andrew’s hand would brush against his as they worked together on building a shelter. Andrew would shove him when he was annoyed, his fingers splaying over Logan’s bare chest.
At first Logan wrote those things off as accidents. But they kept happening, so he started observing the other man. The touches… they didn’t seem to be conscious on Andrew’s part. Andrew was still being his prickly, hostile self, mostly, but his body seemed to gravitate closer to Logan.
It made sense, probably. Just like with the need for social interaction, humans were tactile by nature. From infancy, they craved the touch of another being. They didn’t do well without touching and being touched by others. He and Andrew had been stranded on this small piece of land for nearly three months now. It was probably natural that after so long in such isolation, they would start needing the reassurance of human contract.
Now that Logan was paying attention, he caught himself standing closer to the other guy than was strictly necessary, too. His self-control was still better than Andrew’s, but he wasn’t sure how long it would last, to be honest. The loneliness and the empty years that stretched ahead of them ate at him, too, and as the weeks turned into months, he’d started forgetting why this was a bad idea. If they were never going to return to civilization, what was the harm in taking what little comfort another person’s touch brought?
So when Andrew’s bare arm brushed against his, Logan didn’t push him away. When Andrew slumped against him, sweaty and exhausted after they’d finishing building the shelter, Logan allowed it, looking at the sun disappearing into the ocean. The right side of his body, where Andrew was pressed against him, was tingling. Andrew’s shoulder was warm and solid, and sitting like this was… It wasn’t unpleasant.
But it also put him on edge, his cock hard and fat in his shorts. He ignored it. He’d become good at ignoring it. Spending so much time around a half-naked, ridiculously hot guy would make any gay man horny, especially considering that he hadn’t gotten laid in months. His cock didn’t seem to care what a bad idea it was. Nor did it care that the guy was a bigot. It was just a natural physical response, and Logan had been ignoring it for months now. But with every day, his reservations seemed to fade away, and it was becoming more difficult to suppress his body’s needs.