Gabriel

Any day now I expected Juniper to drop a bombshell. There was no way he could be this perfect. From what I could tell, he wasn't an addict, he didn't have a husband or wife (although I could still be wrong about that,), he didn't have any diseases (again, he could but just didn't tell me), and he had no criminal record. If he had a criminal record, he wouldn't be teaching. And, so far, his moods appeared stable. He seemed like he was the only person living in that cabin, but the farmhouse was nearby. Maybe that's where his wife and kids lived.

There definitely had to be something wrong with him. After all, I had a whole litany of things that were wrong with me.

During the hike, I could just about keep up with him. He had a lot of energy, and he was enthusiastic about everything! I bet he was a great teacher. The hike wasn't too challenging and the scenery was breathtaking. The leaves had changed to orange and red. As usual, Juniper talked most of the time. He talked about the hikes he and his dad took together over the years. From everything Juniper told me, he and his dad appeared close, closer than me and my dad were. Both my parents thought I was close to them, which made it more difficult for them to understand why I moved away.

Although we enjoyed being outside together, we both looked forward to returning to the cabin. I couldn't wait for Juniper to make dinner for me. And he couldn't wait, either. A stack of wood sat by the fireplace, which I didn't remember seeing the last time I was there. His cabin was tidier than I remembered. He must have cleaned up in preparation for my overnight stay. His kitchen sink was cleared of dishes and there were no papers or books on the table, only four placemats. I'd come to learn that his favorite color was purple. Not only did he wear purple a lot, purple pillows sat on each side of his cream-colored couch. His placemats were purple, too, hand-knitted by his grandmother who lived in the nearby farmhouse.

"Are you cold?" he asked me, dropping his hiking bag inside the front door. We left our hiking boots on the front stoop so we wouldn't track mud inside. "Yeah, it's chilly in here." He answered his own question. "I'll start a fire. I'd rather not turn on the heat and waste propane. I save it for hot water until it gets really cold out. One time I ran out in the middle of winter during a really bad snow storm and it took days for the propane guy to get out here."

I sat on his couch, watching him chuck logs into the fire. "Do you chop your own wood?"

"Yep. We chop our own Christmas trees, too, but you probably don't care about that."

"I have no problem with Christmas trees. I'm not anti-Christmas." Growing up, I didn't have many gentile friends. I lived primarily in a Jewish neighborhood, but there were times when I admired the houses and stores with the twinkling lights, wreaths, and neatly wrapped presents under beautifully decorated trees. I remember visiting Rockefeller Center at Christmas time and being totally in awe of the spectacular Christmas tree. We celebrated Hanukkah but there was nothing spectacular about a menorah.

"Do you celebrate Hanukkah?" he asked, tossing a lit piece of newspaper into the fireplace. I didn't even know people read newspapers anymore, yet Juniper had a whole stack of newspapers.

"Yes."

"What is Hanukkah, anyway?"

"It's the festival of lights. It commemorates the rededication during the second century B.C. of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, where, according to legend, Jews had risen up against their Greek-Syrian oppressors in the Maccabean Revolt."

"Hmm... you sound like an excerpt from a history book. What's the significance of the menorah?" Juniper genuinely seemed interested in learning about Jewish customs.

"Menorah is the Hebrew word for the eight-branched candelabra. By lighting it, the Temple was re-dedicated. On the first night, one candle, plus a shammash--or helper candle--is lit. On the second night, two candles plus the shammash are lit. This continues until nine candles are all lit on the final night. It's a misconception that gifts are given on each night. There are no biblical or Talmudic roots to the concept of gift-giving on Hanukkah, but there's an age-old custom of giving money to children. The idea is for them to give some of it to charity and just to keep things festive and happy. Is that a good explanation? That's how my dad explained it to me when I asked about presents."

"Interesting," he said, standing up as the fire crackled. Even though I'd been with him a handful of times, my heart still raced and pounded out of my chest at the thought of seeing him naked. He completely undressed and kicked his clothes to the side.

"What's for dinner?" I asked, smiling.

"Pesto and spinach tortellini," he said, approaching me. "I have tons of basil. I have to do something with it."  

Naked, he sat on my lap. "I need a shower," I said as he kissed my neck. All relationships were good in the beginning. Was this a relationship? Like I said before, I was madly in lust with Juniper. It was too early to tell if this would amount to anything else. If this was the old Gabriel, I'd say I was in love, but I'd grown wiser over the past year.

"I need a shower, too. Let's go." He hopped off my lap. Standing in front of me, he grabbed my hands and heaved me to my feet.

It couldn't get much better than this: a shower with a gorgeous man, together with an incredible blow job. He went wild when I pulled his hair. He moaned, using his teeth in a way no man ever had. So far, I'd never finished in his mouth, but this afternoon I couldn't help myself. Grasping a clump of his hair, I held him to me, thrusting into his mouth. He gagged as I filled his mouth. My orgasm was so intense, I nearly fell to the floor. He stood back up and kissed my mouth.

"I'm starving," he said as I brought my hand to his dick. "We'll finish after dinner."

I wanted to finish now, but Juniper pushed my hand away, stepping out of the shower. He must have been starving because I'd realized he had very little self-control around me, not that I'd ever complain about it. After drying off, he walked out of the bathroom and didn't stop to get dressed. I did the same, but wrapped a towel around my waist. When I reached the kitchen, I found him wearing an apron with a bottle of wine open on the kitchen counter. He was in the middle of chopping basil, his bare ass exposed.

"What's with the apron?" I asked, pouring a glass of wine.

"I'd rather wipe my hands on an apron than my thighs. I mean, I did just have a shower. You don't want me dirty, do you?"

"You could be covered in mud and I'd still want you," I said, patting his ass with my hand.

I placed my glass of wine on the counter and stood behind Juniper, bringing my arms around him. I slipped my hands under his apron.

"I'm so hungry," he said. "Can't you hear my stomach growling?"

"I'm hungry, too."

Juniper was like a magnet; I couldn't keep my hands off him. I suspected we wouldn't get much sleep tonight. "Stop it," he laughed as I stroked his dick. Just as he hardened in my hand, I backed away. "Thanks for leaving me with a hard on," he laughed again. As someone who liked to laugh, he never took himself too seriously.

"I can see I'm a huge distraction. I'll just wait in the other room."

"Yeah, you do that."

While Juniper cooked, I sat on the couch in front of the roaring fire with my glass of wine. The room resembled the set of a Hallmark movie, not like I watched any of those movies, but I'd caught my mother watching one or two. My co-workers also talked about the cheesy Christmas movies. Juniper and I chose to eat in the living room instead of at the table. Juniper made the tortellini from scratch. He pre-made it. I'd never tasted anything quite like it. He refused to eat 'that store-brought crap.'

"I can honestly say I've never had a man make me dinner with or without clothes," I said. 

"Is it okay? I make it all the time for my dad. It's the only way he'll eat spinach. He doesn't eat enough vegetables." He sounded more like a father than a son.

"Yes, it's very good."

"I always have to hide vegetables in things. It's like my dad's a little kid."

He removed his apron and sat cross-legged beside me. Happiness was an unfamiliar emotion. It scared me, but I felt happy right now. Juniper made me want to smile all the time. I kept my smile locked up, hidden inside me, afraid that if anyone saw it, then misery would follow. I didn't want to jinx myself.

But it was impossible not to smile when such a beautiful, genuine, and selfless man sat beside me who clearly liked me more than he'd ever liked anyone. I was his first everything. That, in and of itself, overwhelmed me.

After finishing his tortellini, he sprawled out on the floor on top of the tan fluffy rug. "You're not lying on a bear rug, are you?" I asked.

"No. I don't own a bear rug or deer heads or anything like that. This is just a rug Violet got me for Christmas." He rolled onto his stomach and turned his head away from me, staring into the fire. "It's different sitting in front of a fire with someone... having dinner with someone other than my dad and grandmother. I kinda wish it could be like this every night."

I undid my towel and knelt over him, one knee on either side of him. I dug my hands into his shoulders. As I massaged his shoulders, I was surprised to find him tense. He hid his tension and stress well. I found knots on his shoulder blades.

"That feels good," he said, resting his head on the rug, trying to relax. The harder I pressed, the more relaxed he became. He inhaled deeply as I got all the way on top of him. He turned his head just enough to kiss my mouth. As we kissed, I clasped his hands in mine. These kisses were different. They weren't just lustful kisses. He smiled, moaning as I rubbed my dick against his entrance. As we kissed, I inserted my finger inside him. He moaned louder as his body tensed.

"Relax," I said as if we'd never done it before. I reached for my nearby bag and removed condoms and a bottle of lube.

"It's cold," he laughed as I circled his entrance with the clear liquid. He gasped, moaning again as I inserted a finger, followed by another. I donned a condom and lathered my dick before making my way inside him. We resumed kissing as my dick pulsated and throbbed inside him. Sometimes he liked it hard and fast; sometimes he liked it slow but deep.

I withdrew, allowing him to roll onto his back. He liked missionary, too.  He relaxed, letting his legs fall to either side of him, welcoming me back inside him. We held each other, occasionally kissing, as I thrust slowly.

As I knelt upright, I held his ankle and brought his foot to my mouth. He smiled, biting his bottom lip as I kissed his big toe. "You're so much fun," I said, running my hand up his leg. His back arched, moaning louder as I licked the sole of his foot. He giggled as I held both ankles, kissing each foot.

"Oh, wow. I really like that," he said, masturbating at the same time. Any minute, I expected him to have a mega orgasm. He came so hard, his ass lifted off the floor. "Oh, my God, that was so good. Fuck." He draped his arm over his forehead, taking deep breaths to regain his composure.

Leaning all the way over, I kissed him, thrusting hard one more time. I was always quiet in bed, but I cried out tonight, biting down on Juniper's shoulder. "Oh, fuck," I muttered as he ran his fingers through the back of my hair. Exhausted, I collapsed on top of him. I almost fell asleep. I would have fallen asleep, too, if Juniper hadn't pinched my ass.

"My legs are asleep," he said. He playfully kicked me in the head as I got off him. "Let's go to bed. It's more comfortable up there."

We wore ourselves out. Within minutes we were asleep. There was nothing like sleeping in the country. I always felt more rested. With Juniper, I only woke up once, and I only woke up to go to the bathroom. As soon as I returned to bed, I fell back to sleep.

Juniper was still asleep when I woke to the bright morning sun. I glanced at the clock on the wall and discovered it was quarter past ten. I never slept that late unless I had had too much to drink the night before. While he slept, I got dressed and explored the contents of his refrigerator and kitchen cabinets. They were way better stocked than mine. I thought I'd be useful and make coffee, but he didn't have a keurig machine. Instead, he had a french press with ground coffee. He had an over abundance of eggs in the fridge. I hoped he'd send me home with a dozen.

I considered making pancakes, but I only knew how to make pancakes with Bisquick and Juniper had no Bisquick. I made the easiest thing I knew how to make: scrambled eggs and toast. "No one's ever made me breakfast in bed," Juniper yawned.

"It's nothing special."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," he said, taking a bite of toast. "Thank you for breakfast. You didn't have to do this." He took a few sips of coffee and bites of eggs. Even if my eggs were crap, he'd never let me know. "When can I see you again?"

I had no free time for the next two weeks. Between work and the High Holidays, I was fully booked. My mind blanked.

"Next year?" Juniper said.

"I'm leaving for Brooklyn tomorrow morning for a few days. The next two to three weeks are crazy."

"So I'll see you in mid-October. We could get dinner or take another hike or get lost in a corn maze."

"I like all those ideas."

I had a hard time saying goodbye to Juniper, especially since I didn't know when I'd see him again. He promised to stay up until at least eleven so we could talk on the phone. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.