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This vignette was written for Reivan as part of my themed Patreon request day for the month of December 2018. This month's theme was a location prompt: "Log Cabin", and the story contains nudity and M/M sex between consenting adults.

Brought in from the Cold

The weather had turned over an hour ago, and despite trying his very best to make his way back along the same track he had been following all day, Robin was certain that he was lost. He was shivering, the cold whipping at his face like a hand reared back to slap and cutting through his thick coat like daggers of ice. Snow clung to his fur in the few places where it was visible, and every few steps the jackalope could feel it attempting to settle on his antlers, forcing him to shake his head to keep it from doing so. He tried to stay positive, to tell himself that either the storm would pass or he would find his way back to the Aviemore road, where a carriage or perhaps even some locals on foot making their way back to a nearby farm for shelter would guide him or better yet welcome him to come along with them. But with every further minute that passed, Robin felt panic seeking to creep its insidious way into his heart and mind, and after that a far more disturbing feeling... acceptance, weary, cold, frigid acceptance.

He barely noticed the log cabin thanks to the blizzard, and it was blind luck that he walked almost directly into one of its walls rather than passing by it merely ten or fifteen metres away without ever having realised it was there. With a dry, desperate whimper Robin circled the building until he found a door, and he hammered on it for what felt like an eternity until a door swung open, and a thick Scottish accent muttered in shock as a lean arm reached out, grabbed Robin by the arm still raised for his most recent but unnecessary knock, and dragged him inside.

"Oh Christ..."

For the next few hours, Robin really didn't recall much. He thought at one point he felt himself being undressed, and then he got hot. Really uncomfortably hot, as though he had a fever, and he tried to stand up to get away from the heat, only for a pair of arms to encircle him, first holding him, then hugging him as he shivered and... had he been crying? Perhaps, he really wasn't sure. At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew there was a gentle hand tapping the side of his face, still sore from the scorching snow's chill from earlier.

"Hey. Hey, stay wi' me okay? Ye can nap later, when I know that's all yer doing."

He drifted in and out of awareness, though his eyes stayed open throughout, for quite a while longer. The wind whistled and caused the iron wood-burner before him to hiss and flare, the jackalope only realising then that the fire before which he was sitting was the source of that intense heat. The snow thudded at the exterior of the shuttered windows, and at one point one of the shutters burst open and began to thump loudly at the exterior of the house, the cabin's owner cursing in what might have been gaelic or just with a particularly thick accent on whatever it was he said as he grabbed a thick coat, wrapped it around his lean but already solidly clothed body, and dashed outside for a few minutes until it was sealed shut again.

By the time he returned, the cabin's owner was soaked through. His coat may have been made for a lot of bad weather, but not for a storm where the wind seemed to be blowing at every angle simultaneously, and thus as he pulled it off there were cold damp patches visible on his sweater and the first undershirt beneath it, not to mention his trousers being covered with snow up to the thighs. He looked over at Robin who was staring rather blankly and only semi-focused at him, and chuckled bashfully.

"Hope ye dinnae take this the wrong way, aye?"

He began to take his clothes off. All of them, carrying them over to the same rack on which Robin looked over and saw his own attire, glancing down and only then fully realising that he was, and thus presumably had been all this time, stark naked with only a thick blanket draped over his shoulders. The cabin's owner, revealed to be a rabbit now that his hat and many layers had revealed more of his body shape, padded into an adjoining room of the cabin and emerged with another blanket, wrapping it around his own bare self but leaving it open at the front, his shaft and balls small and shrunken in the winter's chill. Robin smiled as he approached, and looked down at his own manhood. It had been similarly cold-shocked, but now... now it was starting to look a little plump. He glanced back at the rabbit, then down at himself, and blushed as he put two and two together, wrapping the blanket more firmly around himself and making a point not to look at the rabbit directly again.

They sat together, shoulder to shoulder in front of the fire for almost an hour more. The rabbit barely spoke, and Robin didn't utter so much as a single word even when the cabin's owner commented about stoking the fire or how suddenly the storm came on, and it was a good thing the jackalope had found his way here. It was only at the end of that latest hour that Robin began to feel somewhat alive again, his brain kicking back into gear somewhat, and only then that his eyes widened, and he looked to the man sitting next to him with a soft whimper.

"It was."

Having not spoken for at least twenty minutes, the rabbit understandably tilted his head in confusion, his mop of tangled curly brown hair shifting between his ears as he did so.

"Fit's that?"

Robin blushed and cleared his throat.

"It was a good thing that I found this place. Otherwise I... I think I might have... what I mean is, thank you. Truly, thank you."

The rabbit chuckled.

"Ah, right. Nae bother. I'd have to be some kindae heartless prick tae leave ye out in the cauld, widdn't I?"

With that said, the rabbit extended a hand from within his blanket, causing its front to fall open once again and giving Robin an unexpected fresh look at the naked body beneath it. A body which now wasn't so cold, nor so small. In fact, he looked almost a little...

"And, since ye seem tae be a bit more wi' it than when I introduced myself afore? I'm Donovan, pleased tae make yer acquaintance."

Nervously, bashfully Robin extended his own hand and felt his on blanket shift, wondering if Donovan could see that his own shaft was similarly plump, if not quite fully erect... yet.

"I'm Robin. Good to meet you, too. Thank you, again."

Chuckling, the rabbit held onto Robin's hand for what was perhaps a moment too long for two men who were just strangers brought together by circumstance, before hurriedly and bashfully withdrawing it, clearing his throat as his arm slipped away inside the blanket once more.

"Well, now that's out o' the way..."

He murmured as though trying to break the tension, but not feeling confident that it was going to work.

"...I dinnae mean to be a walkin' stereotype, but, do ye fancy a dram o' whisky, now that I know you're nae gonna slip into a hypothermic coma on me?"

Needless to say, after all he had been through that day, Robin most definitely did. So, when Donovan pulled out a large bottle and two glasses and immediately filled one, then the other half way rather than with merely a bar measure's worth, the jackalope could only smile. They continued to sit by the fire as they sipped their drinks, often being silent and just listening to the storm continuing to whirl outside, but occasionally bringing up some thought and turning it over to the figure sitting beside them, whether it simply received a few words, a chuckle and a nod, or a brief conversation in response. At some point, Robin realised his glass was empty, and then that it wasn't empty any more. He also realised around that same point that both he and Donovan were getting a little tipsy. Perhaps even more than a little. The first true sign that they were well on their way to getting drunk together though was when Donovan's blanket slid off his shoulders as he poured himself a third ample glug of the amber liquid, and didn't bother to put it back on. Robin considered saying something as he saw Donovan's member resting between his legs, definitely more lengthy and full bodied than it had been when he first saw it, and twitching every so often as though on the verge of growing even larger. He felt as though mentioning it would only serve to embarrass the rabbit though, and perhaps even to draw attention to his own shaft, which was getting more and more twitchy itself the more he thought about and looked at Donovan's own.

Quite when Robin stopped thinking about Donovan's own blanket having fallen away to the point that he didn't even notice his own doing the same, he was entirely unsure. He knew that he was naked as he giggled and turned to face the rabbit more head on, reaching out and touching the other man's face, running his fingers up through his hair, then down to his chest.

"I'm drunk, Donovan."

He stated with the certainty and confidence of someone who believed themselves to be intoxicated yet entirely in control because of their awareness of that fact.

"Aye. Ditto."

The rabbit chuckled, making no move to stop the jackalope's hand from drifting over his chest, stroking through his fur and stopping eventually to feel the thumping of his heart.

"It's beating fast..."

Robin murmured as he felt the rabbit's heart thundering along beneath his fingers.

"Aye, it is."

The bunny blushed, but said nothing more on the subject, at least nothing more until Robin's hand started to drift once again, down the length of the rabbit's torso without any real purpose or intent, but soon finding itself caressing the tip of a very much hard, erect cock. Robin gasped dramatically, as though aghast but obviously not as he grinned and giggled.

"You're hard!"

He accused teasingly, only to squeal in surprise as Donovan lurched forward a little, whisky splashing over the fur of his hand, to reach out with his free paw and grasp at Robin's own equally hard shaft.

"Aye, well... so are you, so... y'know... we're even!"

The wind whistled. The snow drummed at the shutters. Robin looked around at the empty log cabin, and shivered happily.

"We're alone."

Donovan's cheeks reddened noticeably as he nodded.

"Aye."

The jackalope shuffled a little closer to the rabbit upon the fireside bench they were sharing.

"Alone. Naked. Drunk."

Squirming, gasping as Robin's paw squeezed his cock a little with each of those words, Donovan nodded yet again.

"Right on all three counts, aye."

Robin came to rest with his leg pressed firmly against Donovan's own, and he took a deep breath as he re-oriented his grasp on the rabbit's cock to make it unmistakably more firm and purposeful.

"Could I... could I kiss you, Donovan?"

The rabbit groaned audibly, his shaft lurched in Robin's grasp, which caused the jackalope's cock to quiver and throb against Donovan's touch in turn.

"If... if ye want tae, I widnae stop ye..."

The jackalope leaned in, his lips barely brushing the rabbit's own and drawing a ragged whimper from the other man as rather than moving any further forward, he whispered yet again.

"But, do you want me to?"

Donovan gurgled a single, plaintive word.

"Aye..."

And then their lips met, their cocks strained within one another's grasp, and all the snow and wind in the world could do nothing to extinguish the heat that began to burn between them in that moment, and continued on and on, hotter and hotter, until well after the wood-burner's fire had long since calmed to glowing ash.

By Jeeves

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