CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
C al
Jason writhes beneath me. I kiss him, feel his arms around me, feel our cocks move together. We thrust against each other.
It’s not the most complex sex act, and I’ve forgotten how good it can feel.
But maybe the difference is that I’m with him.
Jason sinks into the sand, but he’s broad enough, muscular enough, to take all of my weight. His stubble brushes against my own.
I’m never going to forget this moment. I’ll always remember this.
“I’m close,” he says, his cheeks pink.
“Let go.” I thrust against him again.
And then he spills against my cock. It only takes a moment for me to spill my own seed. It only takes a few moments of gazing at Jason’s flushed body, now moving jerkily beneath me until I come.
My breath comes in pants. I hesitate, unsure what I’ll find when I look into Jason’s eyes. His hands tangle in my hair. He strokes my head with a tenderness I didn’t anticipate, and the sudden fear that bubbled within me calms, then dissipates, disappearing into the Pacific along with the wind.
I sink against his warm body, until our breaths happen at the same time. His gaze is tender and sweet.
I’m suddenly reminded of our first kiss.
“I thought you liked it when we kissed in high school.”
He flinches. I wait for him to roll me off him and stomp away, but instead he sighs. “I did. But that kiss was different.”
“How?”
He furrows his brow and looks at me like I’m crazy. “That was a joke.”
My eyes narrow, then his widen.
“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.
“Why would it have been a joke?”
“It was April 1st. April Fool’s Day.”
“My roommate came and asked if you had pranked me yet.”
“Oh, no...” A sinking feeling hits my stomach. “You thought I’d been teasing you?”
“I-I thought it was a prank.”
“What kind of guy pranks someone with a kiss?”
“Someone who doesn’t think the other guy is going to go through with it.”
And then another memory rushes forward. Something I thought I’d misremembered. Something I’d chided myself for imagining, especially when all the news about Jason came out.
“I pushed you against the brick wall,” I say.
He nods. “And then you narrowed the distance between us.”
“Yeah. But then...” I hesitate.
“Then I looked at you. Your face was as close to me as it was then.”
“Yeah,” I breathe.
“And you looked good.” His voice shakes, like he’s not supposed to admit that. “And you were so confident and assured and...”
“Then you kissed me,” I say, stunned.
“You were the first person I kissed.”
“Really?”
“My whole life was hockey,” Jason says, and his cheeks are red. “And my parents were strict.”
“Oh. Sixteen is a normal time for a first kiss. Probably lots of people have it later too.”
“Guess that means I wasn’t your first kiss.” Something like pain is in his voice.
“No,” I admit, thinking about the girls I kissed. Madison. Haley. Amber.
Those kisses had been increasingly desperate.
I’d wanted to feel...something. I’d wondered if the chemistry was wrong or if the descriptions from movies that made kissing sound amazing, instead of, well, gross, were because movie studios have to sell movies.
I’d thought maybe my expectations were too high.
But I never felt anything with those girls. I’m gay, not bisexual, not pansexual.
“But,” I say, smiling as I gaze into his eyes. “You were the first person I wanted to kiss. The first guy. The first person who made me realize I like guys, not girls.”
“So it wasn’t a prank?”
“No, Jason. It wasn’t a prank. It was real.”
“But then I—” His face whitens. “I was mean to you. I was cold. And then I—”
“Then you left,” I finish for him. “It wasn’t great.”
“I’m so sorry.” He stretches up, then cups my face. He runs his fingers over my cheeks, and I relax in his arms.
“That must have been terrible,” he continues, stroking my body.
“It wasn’t great. I-I thought we had a connection. But then you were gone.”
His shoulders slump, and I nudge him, because I don’t want to see him unhappy. I don’t want guilt to fill all the spaces where there was happiness and joy before.
“I’m sorry you thought it was a prank,” I say.
“I’m sorry too.”
My stomach growls, and Jason laughs. “Let’s have breakfast.”
Then he leads me to the fire pit, and we eat coconuts.
JASON
I had sex.
With a man.
With Cal.
I smile into the bright blue sky and the brighter blue waves. Birds flit happily over the island, chirping and ruffling their colorful feathers.
After so much worry, so much anger, now there’s only joy and delight.
Because Cal didn’t kiss me for a prank all those years ago. He doesn’t hate me. Not now, not then.
Warmth fills me.
I’ve kissed him over and over again today. We’ve given each other orgasms over and over and over again. Our skin is speckled with hickeys.
“I should teach you how to swim now,” I tell Cal.
“I’m happy wading into the water.”
I take his hand in mine, then lead him toward the ocean.
“You want to see these briefs get wet,” he grumbles.
“It’s possible. They do look pretty awesome then.”
My gaze dips to his cock. What would it feel like to have it in my mouth? What would it taste like? Something inside me quickens, like it always does when I think about Cal.
I want to suck it. I want to feel him shoot into my mouth, to swallow his essence.
But I also want him to be safe.
We go into the water, and then once we’re waist level I stop. “Let’s start here.”
Cal’s glance is wary.
“It will be fun,” I promise. “Children do it.”
“Children also learn languages super easily.”
I snort. “Okay, Mister Well-Informed. Let’s practice floating. Get you used to the water.”
Cal looks down at the water. “Um, I don’t think I can just float in it.”
“It’s salt water,” I promise. “It will be easier.” I extend my hands. “Hold on.”
A flicker of fear moves over Cal’s features, one I immediately hate.
“I’ve got you,” I promise. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear.”
His face remains frozen for one second too long, and maybe I’ve said the wrong thing after all.
But then his lips swerve upward, slow and steady, until the warmth finally reaches his eyes.
“I know.” He glances at the water again.
The waves aren’t strong, but they’re present.
White foam curls over the waves. “I’ve never. ..”
“I know.” I take his hands in mine. “Stick your legs out.”
He scrunches his lips together, then lowers himself into the water.
“I’m going to pull you,” I explain.
“Okay.” His voice is tighter than I like, and I consider calling everything off. I don’t want to bring him discomfort.
But I want him to know how to be able to swim. I don’t want him to be scared of the water. I don’t want him to sit on the edge of the ocean, afraid to get too close.
“You’re not planning on us swimming on back or anything?” Cal’s voice shakes.
“Nope. Besides, we don’t know the way.” I step back, so his legs stick out.
I let him feel the waves underneath his body. He clings to my hands as I continue to walk backwards, pulling him.
He blinks.
“Nice, huh?”
His face remains skeptical, and I start to drag him in circles until he starts to smile.
“That’s enough.” I help him up, and when he looks disappointed, I know that the introduction wasn’t terrible. “How did you like it?”
“It was better than I expected.”
“Awesome. Now I’m going to have you practice kicking your feet.”
“I never should have told you I don’t know how to swim.”
I frown. “You should tell me everything. I’m here to help.”
For a moment, he looks astonished.
I said too much.
We’re doing, well, intimate things together. But that doesn’t mean this is anything besides convenient to Cal.
And that’s fine.
Next week we’ll be rescued, and he’ll go back to dating men who don’t come with baggage. Men who hold his hand and take him on dates and tell him he’s special and don’t care if anyone else can hear him.
Maybe he’ll refer to me as a closeted man he once fooled around with, and his date will recoil in horror. Maybe he’ll hastily explain he had no other options. Maybe people will figure out it was me.
But the thing I worry about most isn’t him outing me. It’s that this will end.
I’m not ready to be someone he looks at when I’ve played sufficiently well to earn a spot in the press room.
I continue to teach him to swim. We splash together in the water, and we both laugh.
Laughter turns to kisses turn to Cal wrapping his legs around my waist. I hold him up in the salty water.
Cal’s body has turned slippery, and I love it.
“This is fun,” he admits to me as we’re floating on our backs. The sun shines above us.