There was a story about two neighbors masturbating in front of each other. There was a story about a dad watching his son masturbate in bed, and then one where they masturbated together in the morning. And then there was a story about all three of them in bed at a fishing cabin on a lake.
He read them all that morning when he woke up early, and then he stood there in the door of his fishing cabin on a lake, looking at his son in bed, just like the last story ended. His son's notebook was there out in the open next to his backpack, and when you flip through stories like that, you end up reading through them all the way.
In the past few months, his son had asked a few questions and acted a little out of the ordinary. The father wondered if maybe that notebook was left out to be found.
"Son?" he asked, and his son looked up at him in the doorway just like he pictured when he wrote that story. The son looked at the notebook in his father's hand. Then at the sunrise pushing in around his father's body, the light passing through the pajama fabric. The son felt that matching rough pajama fabric on his own body and felt the cold morning air between them. "I, uh... I want to talk about what you've been writing."
As the conversation limped slowly along like a car on flat tires, the son answered his father's questions. "I was supposed to write about what my life will be like when I'm as old as my dad is." He did scribble out another story more appropriate for school, but kept writing what came out, what he thought about.
"It's okay that you're thinking about stuff like this... and I want you to come to me about anything... and if you're too embarrassed to talk to me, then we'll find someone else you can talk to... but I want you to talk to me about anything."
He remembered being that age, how confusing everything was, not knowing what stuff meant or if he'd get made fun of. He remembered once having a pain in his balls that he didn't tell anyone about because he was so embarrassed. He didn't want his son to feel alone. "It's just the two of us. You can ask me anything, tell me anything."
As they talked, the dad sat back down on his bed and got back in bed and under the covers. The son had been so dead-set on getting back up to the cabin and just the two of them this time. And now his dad knew why, or at least was starting to get a picture of everything his son had been thinking about and dealing with. In the early light, they stayed in the side-by-side beds, under the covers, nearly next to each other and started talking together about stuff, how guys don't wear shirts at the beach or at the pool.
The son talked about "shirts and skins" and never wanting to have to take his shirt off, how he felt scared and awkward and embarrassed and worried. It was the first time he really shared stuff like that with anyone. None of the other guys seemed to think it was weird or said anything about feeling embarrassed, and his dad knew what it was like, how being shirtless was suddenly a big deal.
"I don't think you should ever bother wearing a shirt when it's just us at home... or here," he said to his son. Something he had read somewhere in his son's notebook made him think that his son wanted rules, wanted someone else to take command and explain things and be there. The dad continued, "no shirts."
From under the covers, his son pulled off his pajama shirt and felt that skin feeling, the air, being exposed. And he felt the relief of it not being him doing it. It felt awkward and weird, but just like that one time in gym class when he had to take his shirt off and be with the other shirtless guys, he felt the release of responsibility. He had to. And it wasn't just him alone. If the other guys he was with all had their shirts off, they were all in the same boat and maybe all feeling weird or shy or proud or confused. If his dad was shirtless too, then it'd be the two of them.
"What about you, though?" he asked. His dad wasn't shy but also just didn't go around half dressed. But he peeled his shirt off now too, showing his shoulders under the covers. He saw his son's eyes explore the sight of chest hair and skin, and here with his dad felt un-alone. The dad decided he'd be letting them have shirtless time together more often. He wondered why he didn't have that kind of bonding and comfort already.
His son was basically well-behaved, didn't get into trouble, so there wasn't much need for a lot of rules or restrictions or punishments or even for talking about what was going on each day. As the distance between them started to get smaller and warmer, they each felt the same pull to try to grow their relationship, starting now.
"You want to come over here with me?" the dad asked, almost without the question mark, and flipped open the extra-big sleeping bag, showing his bare-chested body below, muscles and hair. His son hopped out from his own sleeping bag and took the two steps over, feeling the cold floor under his toes and the cold air around his chest and back and arms.
He crawled in with his dad and felt bicep under his shoulder and the flannel lining drape over top of them together. The dad remembered the last time they had hugged like this, not just a pat on the back but a real hug, on the beach after scoring a goal, and their skin touching then. He thought that it was kind of sad to have only a handful of memories like that together, comfortable enough to be comfortable, and he let his other arm fold over his son's back.
They were closer now. They kept talking, each bringing up another topic, another question that had been filed away to try to find the answer to. Somehow getting a no-big-deal answer to a random question like "Is cum the same as jizz?" from your dad without any kind of joke or judgment, without wondering if your friend thinks you're dumb (or even whether they actually know the correct answers questions like that), it's better. It's nice to have someone to go to, and it's nice to not have to go to them, to have an open easy conversation.
And it was nice for the dad to ask something kind of private and intimate. "How about in the locker rooms? Is that even worse than having to take your shirt off in the gym?" Talking to someone who is an inch away is more relaxed.
"It's kind of not as bad, because it's more in private and everyone's doing it together so you're not the only one. But it's like the only time I'm ever undressed like that."
His father said, "and the only time you're ever undressed in front of anybody else." His son agreed. They talked about how that made it feel, too important, too unusual.
Thinking about something he had read over and over again, the dad started talking about pajamas, how it's better to sleep without them. He said, "I think you should stop wearing pajamas. I don't want you wearing them anymore."
The son said that if he didn't wear pajamas, that then maybe he'd sometimes be undressed in front of his dad too, not just only in the locker room. The father said that maybe that might be a little uncomfortable, "but that's okay, and you'll get used to it... and maybe it'll make it more comfortable when you have to get undressed in the locker rooms or some other time if you have to."
"Yeah... um, should I get rid of them now?" His father said that he should. That felt good, having his dad decide and be in charge. Reaching down under the covers, the son pulled his pajama pants down off his legs and out, tossing them away. The soft skin on his legs brushed against the fabric of his dad's pajama pants and also against hairy forearms and smooth skin on his dad's sides.
He held his son in his arms. The son felt a strong forearm cradling underneath his butt, and he sat on it while leaning into his father's muscular chest and arms and shoulders. The dad patted the son where fabric met flesh. His son's forehead pressed against where chest met shoulder. The father felt fingers in his chest hair. They spent some time like that.
"Will you feel more comfortable if I stopped wearing pajamas too?" His son nodded. They looked at each other, and they both pictured what it would be like in the morning. The son imagined seeing his dad coming in to wake him up. The father imagined them both comfortably walking down the hall on the way to get a shower. They both thought about Saturday breakfast without pajamas. Shirtless time was one thing but... well maybe an apron if the bacon gets jumpy... but then no pajamas and just underwear with an apron is a funny picture.
The son felt his dad's hands move out from under him to slide pajama pants down and pull them up between them and toss them out on the floor. Skin slid against skin, and the son kind of kneeled on bare, muscular thighs and calves, before a forearm and bicep slid back under, and then a couple pats.
The son felt cradled and felt comfortable in feeling comfortable. His palm landed on the sharp hard edge of elastic, and then his fingers curled around onto soft cotton. They stayed like that for a while, and the son kind of liked them both being guys together in the same guy underwear.
But being curled up or sitting in a certain way or standing up after sitting did make him have to pull and shift. So he did that, a little awkwardly. All guys know about having your balls pasted to your thigh or having everything twisted around everything else.
"Hey, when's the last time you got new underwear?" the dad asked. He couldn't remember buying any for a while. It had been some time, and his son's underwear had gotten worn and loose but at the same rate as he grew bigger. "You know, I've heard that tight underwear is bad for you... that your scrotum expands and contracts all day and also while you're sleeping."
His son listened to a discussion about his body and private parts. He thought that his dad was bluntly trying to get over feeling awkward, and he liked that he was trying and that it wasn't just him who felt awkward.
"You're not gonna wear underwear anymore." A second or two passed in consideration.
"Should I take them off now?" His dad said yes. Under the sleeping bag, his son slid them down off his smooth butt and paused there. When he felt another pat, but this time lower, nudging him on, he slid them down and off and around his ankles, and his dad felt chilly feet stepping around, and he saw his son fling out crumpled white briefs.
"But if I don't wear pajamas or underwear, then I'll just be naked then right?" His dad told him that some people sleep nude and that he heard it's good for you, no sweaty clothes on you to get tangled. As they were talking, the son took notice of the feeling. The dad looked at his son thinking.
"I'm gonna take yours off too." And they were grabbed for and peeled off and slid down and tossed out. They laughed at now being naked together underneath, hidden. The son put his hand back where it had been and felt along where the leg met the hip met the side, just skin.
"So you think I shouldn't wear any either?" His son said no and shook his head left and right. "Never?" Same response. "So then any time when I'd be in my underwear... I'd be totally naked instead huh? Like if the doctor says to strip down to just my underwear... or if I'm at the gym, even with guys from work?"
The son considered it and pictured it. He shook his head up and down and said yeah. The dad thought about how that would feel and how it felt at his son's age to be those situations. He recognized what his son was going through. He thought about what made him embarrassed or scared.
His son asked him, "Are you worried about what if you get, uh, an erection?"
"Yeah, I guess I am. It could happen, and they'd see it. Or I guess they could see it normal and think it looks small." His son said that he thought about those same things and asked if guys are usually worried about that. "Yeah, I think so. Do you ever talk about stuff like that with guys?"
His son answered no. "Maybe I could talk about stuff like that with you, but just you."
The dad thought for a bit and said, "if you saw mine, would you tell me if you thought it looked small?" When he got a shrugged okay as a response, he flapped the sleeping bag open, uncovering both their naked bodies, side by side, different but the same, and not just because they were father and son.
The chilly air slipped over them, and they both looked down at their bodies. It was only maybe three seconds, and then the flap came back over and hid it all. The dad said, "Did it look too small?"
The son shook his head no. "No, it just looked regular." They talked about how nobody really looks but everybody looks and how sometimes if you look at a guy you can see him looking at another guy but trying not to look like he's looking. "It's kind of dumb. They all look the same, huh?" His dad agreed.
"Yours didn't look too small either, in case you were wondering." Then they laughed.
"Are my feet cold?" "No, they're not too cold. Are my hands cold?"
Hands touched skin. They touched each other. Underneath, it was just bodies. "Dad... when you're at the gym and changing clothes around other guys, do you ever get an erection?"
"I remember when I was your age I'd get one all the time, anytime anywhere, no real reason." "But now do you ever?"
"Yes. Sometimes. I just kind of hide it, turn away or hold something in front of it." "One time I was hard, and I think this guy next to me could tell, but he didn't say anything."
"How did you feel then? Embarrassed? Shy? Scared he'd make fun of you and tell everyone else?" His son said that he felt all of that but also that he kind of wanted somebody to see it. "I guess there's a chance I might see it if you're gonna sleep naked, huh?"
"Yeah... and maybe I might see yours?" The son watched his dad nod in agreement. They talked about how they might get used to it eventually but that the first time might be weird. The dad thought about no pajamas and no underwear either and just an apron making breakfast.
"Well... what if you went back over to your bed, and then if it happens then we'd see it... now?" "Um... if I went back over there now, then you'd see it now."
Again the father nodded. "Well, that's okay. Like I said, it used to happen to me all the time, just like yours. Do you want to just get up now, and then I'd see it?" His son just nodded and turned and put his feet down and stood up and realized that his dad was seeing his nude butt now too. He looked down. He slowly turned around. He looked up at his dad looking down at it.
"Is it... I don't know, is it normal?" His dad nodded yes. "Would you feel more comfortable if I got up too, I mean stood up too?" His son nodded yes. The sleeping bag flipped open again and skin everywhere.
The son stepped back, and his dad stood up, and the son looked to see if his dad was maybe a little hard too but he wasn't. They stood there together, letting the other see, feeling nothing between them. The air was still and silent.
"You want some pancakes?" The son nodded yes, and they cooked pancakes together naked.
They were too guys with guys' bodies, and they let themselves be uncomfortable until they got comfortable. And they never wore underwear or pajamas again. And they got naked to get changed even if other guys might see. And some of those other guys thought that then they could just be naked too.
And years later when they were both up at the cabin by the lake again, they both stood in the doorway together and watched the sun, and then it came up.