Chapter 8
The Air I Breathe Underwater
Australia was something else—wild, untamed, and full of life.
They had been here for just over three weeks, moving from place to place every week or so.
This time was long enough for Logan to fall in love with the endless skies, the way the ocean kissed the shore in shades of turquoise and white foam.
But nothing in this vast, beautiful country compared to the man beside him.
He remembered their flight from the Philippines to Australia vividly.
Adrian had insisted Logan take the window seat, and Logan spent most of the flight gazing at the world below—a sea of clouds breaking apart to reveal glimmers of earth and water.
But it wasn’t the view that made his heart race; it was the way Adrian’s eyes lingered on him.
The way he smiled at Logan, his eyes shimmering, sparkling, as if he alone was the only thing worth looking at.
Adrian had rested his head on Logan’s shoulder somewhere over the ocean, his sun kissed hair brushing against Logan’s neck.
He had fallen asleep, his breathing steady and soft, and Logan had tried not to move, afraid of disturbing this perfect moment.
When Adrian woke, they shared a quick, sleepy kiss, a gesture so small yet filled with a quiet tenderness that Logan could feel in his bones.
In that moment, nothing else mattered; not the cramped airplane seats, not the turbulence.
Just them, lost in their own little world.
The need to touch Adrian had become something almost primal for Logan, a pull he couldn’t ignore.
Holding Adrian’s hand was second nature now; their fingers fit together as if they had always belonged.
Kissing Adrian was like breathing; waking up with their bodies tangled together felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Logan craved that connection, the way Adrian’s rough palm felt against his, the way his thumb would idly trace circles on the back of Logan’s hand, grounding him in a way he couldn’t explain.
Adrian played for him often, his guitar a constant companion on this journey.
Whether they were alone in their small cabin or sitting on the beach with dinner balanced on their laps, Adrian’s voice would fill the air, raw and beautiful, each note cutting through Logan like the first rays of dawn.
And when Adrian’s eyes would meet his, filled with something soft and unspoken, Logan felt like he was melting from the inside out.
He would ask for another song, and Adrian would always oblige, as if Logan’s slightest whim was reason enough.
Something was happening between them, something Logan wasn’t ready to name. He didn’t need to. All he wanted was to breathe in the man beside him, to revel in the way Adrian looked at him, touched him, made him feel like he was something more than just a wandering soul chasing waves.
“Lo, are you coming?” Adrian’s voice pulled Logan from his thoughts.
“Not the way I wanted to…” Logan uttered under his breath. “But, yeah.”
Adrian chuckled softly, eyes bright and a broad grin stretching across his face. “You’ll get what you want,” he promised suggestively.
Logan smirked in reply as he finished tying his running shoes, then followed Adrian out the door into the cool morning air.
The beach stretched before them, the sky painted with the first streaks of dawn.
Logan hated running—he really did—but somehow, Adrian had convinced him to join his morning runs.
Not every time, but often enough that it was becoming a habit.
Well, sometimes Logan managed to persuade Adrian to stay in bed instead, usually by kissing him senselessly and trailing his mouth over Adrian’s skin until running was the last thing on his mind. But not today. Today, Adrian had won.
“You know,” Logan grumbled as he jogged alongside Adrian, “it’s basically a crime to make me run this early without coffee first. I’m pretty sure there are laws about that.”
Adrian laughed, his smile radiant against the backdrop of the waking world. “You’ll survive. Besides, the beach is empty, the air’s fresh, and you’re with me. What more do you need?”
Logan shot him a sidelong look. “Coffee. And a surfboard. If we’re going to surf later, why are we running now? It’s redundant.”
Adrian just laughed again, his joy infectious, his pace steady and sure. Logan hated that he found it charming. Well, no. He loved it. He loved the way Adrian looked so alive, his long hair catching the breeze, his skin glowing in the golden light of the rising sun.
Logan huffed, his fake annoyance melting into a grin. He loved him, though he couldn’t say the words—not yet. But it didn’t matter, not really. It was there in every laugh, every stolen kiss, every moment they spent side by side in the vast, beautiful world they were exploring together.
And Logan thought, as Adrian glanced at him with that dazzling, carefree smile, that maybe he didn’t need coffee after all.
“Next time, I’m going alone. You’re too slow,” Adrian teased, his voice laced with mock seriousness.
It was the same threat he always made, and it worked every single time.
And yet, they both knew the truth: Logan was anything but slow.
With his long legs and effortless stride, he could outrun Adrian on most days, his body built for speed, for motion, for the kind of reckless energy that turned every sprint into flight.
Adrian never actually left him behind; he wouldn’t dare.
Logan glared at him. “Fuck you. You’re like five inches tall! You know what? See that rock over there?” He pointed to a jagged boulder sitting at the edge of the beach, half-shrouded in the golden morning light. “I’ll race you there.”
Adrian smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “And what do I get when I win?”
“Hah! If you win, I’ll run with you every morning for a week—no excuses, no trying to drag you back to bed,” Logan smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes, though the heat beneath it was unmistakable. “But if I win? A whole week of no running at those ungodly hours. You stay in bed where you belong.”
“It’s on,” Adrian declared, and without waiting, they both took off toward the rock.
Logan might have complained endlessly about running, but his long legs and athletic frame didn’t betray him.
He sprinted hard, sand flying behind him with each powerful step.
Adrian, however, slowed slightly, letting Logan gain the lead.
Watching Logan push himself like that, his hair messy and wild in the wind, his determined expression, made Adrian smile.
When Logan reached the rock first, he braced himself against it, panting hard but grinning wide. “Who’s slow now?” he bragged, his chest heaving with effort.
Adrian arrived seconds later, grinning as he slowed to a stop. “Yup… you beat me,” he said, out of breath.
Logan flashed a cocky smile, reveling in his victory. “I can sleep in most mornings and still beat your ass.”
Adrian raised a brow, his grin growing sly. “Uh, Lo? I let you win.”
The smugness vanished from Logan’s face, replaced by disbelief. “Huh? Nah. That’s loser talk.” He waved a dismissive hand, shaking his head.
Adrian chuckled, unable to resist teasing him further. “Yeah… I was really just letting you win.”
Logan’s jaw dropped, his whole expression falling like a sandcastle hit by a wave. Adrian tried to feel bad for him but failed miserably. It was too funny. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from closing the distance between them, his laughter giving way to a softer, more genuine smile.
“Rematch!” Logan demanded, his voice almost a growl.
Adrian’s grin widened, playful but with a touch of sincerity. “Okay, but if I win, remember you have to come running with me every morning. No skipping. No excuses.”
“You said I’m slow,” Logan countered, folding his arms over his chest.
“Yeah, but it’s way more fun with you than alone,” Adrian said, his voice dropping into something warmer, quieter.
He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Logan, as if nothing about Logan—messy hair, tired breath, sweat- and sand-coated skin—could ever deter him.
“I’ll take any excuse to spend more time with you,” Adrian murmured, the humor fading into something deeper.
Logan’s resolve softened at those words, the sincerity in Adrian’s voice cutting through his playful bravado. “Deal,” Logan declared, his smile returning.
Adrian’s cocky grin reappeared, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes locked on Logan with a daring, mischievous glint. “Good,” he said, just before he turned on his heel and sprinted back down the beach.
This time, Adrian gave it everything he had.
Logan’s eyes traced the sheer force of will that radiated from Adrian’s every movement.
His arms pumped with precision, his legs slicing through the sand in a rhythm that spoke of discipline, control, and the kind of strength that wasn’t just built, but earned.
He watched him with such focused clarity, caught somewhere between admiration and amusement, completely enchanted and utterly drawn to every movement of his body that he forgot to start on time.
Adrian had spent his adult life training his body for war—for endurance, for command, for survival. He had led men, won battles, and carried weight that no human should ever have to bear. And yet, here he was, running like a kid racing to the water, all fire and freedom, all raw, electric life.
Logan pushed himself harder, sand kicking up behind him, but Adrian was already a streak of sunlit motion ahead, a force of nature, unstoppable.
When Adrian reached makeshift finish line, he turned to face Logan, his chest heaving, his grin victorious and radiant in the morning light.
“So,” Adrian said between heavy breaths, his voice still teasing but with that unmistakable affection lingering beneath it, “tomorrow at five a.m.? Or should we make it four?”