Carr snored, one arm flopped over Jesse’s middle. Jesse felt the guy’s naked chest against his back, and Carr’s morning wood pressed against his bottom. Carr’s snores became louder, almost unbearable, and next to impossible to sleep through.

Doesn’t matter, Jesse thought. The sun’s out and it wants to play. Time to get up.

He didn’t get up, though. Instead, he lay there for the next few minutes, relishing Carr de Vantino’s naked body against his own, loving that moment together, and listening to Carr snore. Jesse felt the man’s chest inflate and deflate against his back as he breathed in his sleep. He also felt the man’s warm breath and Carr’s firm nipples.

The bedroom filled with Carr’s continuous strings of snoring, not that Jesse minded. In fact, he craved the sound, and being close to his traveling friend, caught up in their closeness. He was unsure why Carr had retrieved him from the living room sofa in the middle of the night and walked him to Jesse’s bedroom, but maybe he would find out, and soon. Nor could he understand why Carr climbed into bed with him, sleeping next to Jesse throughout the rest of the night. None of it made sense to Jesse. But again, he didn’t care, savoring the moment with Carr, desiring nothing less, totally smitten for the man, even when he shouldn’t have been.

Carr stirred, groaning, but he didn’t wake, lost in sleep, exhausted from his world travels.

How strange, Jesse thought. He can go anywhere in the world, endlessly traveling, and Carr travels to my bed, sleeping with me through the night. How lucky of me. How fortunate. Even if I’m confused regarding the action.

Truth told, Jesse didn’t turn around, facing Carr, and begin to make love to the man, waking Carr up; although it did cross his mind. Rather, he stayed a gentleman and friend to Carr, honorable, and climbed out of bed. He went downstairs, made a pot of coffee for both, and decided to make breakfast: ham and cheese omelets, buttered toast, and freshly squeezed orange juice.

Carr came downstairs at approximately half past eight. He wore nothing but a pair of fresh boxer-briefs that clung to his center. His hair was mussed and he smelled like bed sweat; nothing a quick shower couldn’t take care of.

Jesse poured his guest a cup of coffee and told him to sit down at the two-person table.

Carr listened, smelling the java.

“You need some clothes on, guy,” Jesse said, staring at Carr’s firm nipples and goose pimples on his arms. “The house is chilly this morning.”

“I’m fine,” Carr replied, blowing on his coffee to cool it down. “Sleeping in the jungle. That’s talking cold. The temperature drops fairly low during the rainy season. It’s chilly as hell, which means the temp in here isn’t so bad.”

“Suit yourself,” Jesse said, sliding a freshly prepared omelet on Carr’s plate. During the process, he wondered if Carr would mention why he had slipped into Jesse’s bed like he did, and spend most of the night next to Jesse. How strange that event felt to Jesse, filling him with uncertainties and questions regarding his friendly relationship with Carr, including lines that may have been cross the night before.

To no avail, while eating across from Carr, staring at his chiseled chest and taut nipples, smelling coffee and eggs, Jesse realized that Carr wasn’t going to mention the night before. Therefore, Jesse thought about calling Carr out, but didn’t, keeping the topic off limits. Instead, he kept his tongue under control and simply ate.

The two men talked about Carr’s traveling adventures the day before, exiting South America. Jesse learned that getting through customs after returning from Ecuador seemed like a challenge and twice the amount of time it had usually taken Carr. Plus, leaving Miami took forever because of a rain delay. No wonder why Carr was so tired when he finally entered the A-frame the previous evening.

Then they talked about how it was still snowing outside and Mother Nature slapping Plimpton with below average temperatures, maybe pissed off and moody.

Carr confessed that he rather liked the snow. “Trust me, I don’t see it at all in the jungle, missing it.”

“Take some back with you when you go,” Jesse replied. “We’ve had plenty this past winter, and spring. There’s enough to go around for many countries to have in South America.”

Strangely, Carr became quiet, perhaps at a loss for words, Jesse thought. Or maybe Carr was just hungry since he shoveled another forkful of egg, ham, and cheese into his mouth. Jesse wasn’t sure. It was odd of Carr not to return a comment, though, skilled at conversing with people over a meal, particularly with Jesse, since they had been friends for the last thirty-plus years and chatted regularly, sometimes even endlessly.