Chapter Thirty-Six
They walked up the porch steps together. The boards creaked under their boots, familiar and worn. Inside, the air was thick with the subtle scent of sea salt, aged timber, and a whisper of citrus. First, Ethan checked out the waves and sandy beach through the sliding glass door.
Ethan dropped his bags on the couch and turned to Carter, studying that same cold intensity he’d had at dinner. “You’re doing it again.”
Carter frowned. “Doing what?”
“Thinking yourself into a hole.” Ethan stepped closer. “You get this look… like you’re carrying something too heavy and you don’t know where to put it.”
“I’m fine.”
“No. You’re not.” Ethan’s voice was gentle, not accusing. “You’ve been off since the restaurant.”
Carter stroked his beard, staring out at the ocean through the window as the waves kept rolling in. “I’m just…” He dragged a hand over his face. “Tired from the drive.”
Ethan stepped beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “Tired?”
“Let’s unpack. Where are we sleeping?”
Ethan led Carter to the best room in the house, his grandparents’ suite.
Ethan unpacked fast, tossing his clothes into the dresser, thinking about his grandparents.
The air still had a hint of cedar and ocean, like those summers he could remember, a feeling he kept somewhere in his heart.
Carter said little while they settled in, just moved around the room with that focused, careful way he had when he didn’t want his thoughts to show.
Later, they sat outside on the porch with cans of sparkling water.
Carter had stopped at a little market on the way in and grabbed snacks—chips, fruit, some fancy trail mix Ethan pretended not to like but kept eating anyway.
The sun was dropping low, turning the water gold, and the breeze carried that cool, salty bite that always meant evening on the coast.
Carter leaned back in the chair beside him, one ankle hooked over his knee, eyes on the horizon. He looked relaxed at first glance, but his fingers kept tapping against the can, a soft metallic rhythm that didn’t match the calm around them.
Ethan watched him for a moment, then set his drink down. “Okay,” he said. “What’s going on with you?”
Carter didn’t look over. “Nothing.”
“Carter.” Ethan shifted his chair closer, close enough that their knees brushed. Carter didn’t pull away, but he didn’t lean in either. “If your job is more important… if your commitment to my father comes first… and that secret deal you two have, just tell me. I’ll step back.”
Carter’s head snapped toward him so fast that the chair creaked. “What? No.” His voice came out sharp, and he ran a hand through his hair like he needed to reset himself. “That’s not—Ethan, that’s not even close to what’s happening.”
Ethan’s eyes remained fixed, unblinking. “Then what is happening? And what’s with that secret deal with my father?”
“You think I’d let something come between us?” he said. “You think I’d let anyone separate us?”
Ethan closed his eyes for a few seconds. It was rare to hear Carter speak with such directness and intensity about them as a couple.
Carter leaned forward, his eyes fixed intently on Ethan. “You read me wrong if you think I’m halfway in. I’m in this. With you. Completely.”
The words hit Ethan like a warm rush, but Carter wasn’t done.
“When we get back, we’re talking to your father. Both of us. Together.”
Ethan’s faint breath caught. “You want to tell him?”
“I don’t want secrets,” Carter said. “Not about this. Not about you.”
The breeze shifted, carrying the sound of waves rolling against the rocks below. Carter reached out, brushing his fingers against Ethan’s wrist—light, hesitant, but real.
Ethan didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just let the moment settle between them in the cooling evening air. Carter wasn’t pulling away. He was stepping closer.
Ethan hadn’t expected Carter’s promise to hit as hard as it did.
The words were steady, certain—Carter didn’t do dramatic declarations, so when he said something with that much conviction, it landed deep.
Warmth spread through Ethan’s chest, but right behind it came a flicker of fear he couldn’t quite shake.
His father never spoke a disparaging word about gay men.
But he’d said nothing supportive either.
Silence could be its own kind of warning.
But as a child, he repeatedly told Ethan he differed from most boys, and that difference caused him to be picked on or bullied.
Ethan thought he meant he was born into an affluent family with every advantage, but maybe he knew all this time, but he didn’t put it into the file he had given Carter.
His mother, though… Ethan didn’t even have to imagine her reaction. He’d heard enough comments growing up to know exactly where she stood. The thought of her voice, sharp and cold, brushed against the back of his mind.
He didn’t want Carter to see that fear, so he kept his expression soft, nodding slowly. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll talk to him.”
Carter tried to read the part Ethan wasn’t saying. His hand brushed Ethan’s wrist again—light, careful, almost grounding. “Hey,” he murmured. “Whatever happens… I’m not going anywhere.”
“What about the secret deal with my father?”
“When it unfolds, you will be with me in the meeting with your father.”
“What is it about?”
“I can’t discuss it. Your father ordered me to keep the information between him and me.”
“Is a business deal?”
“Yes.”
The words settled something inside Ethan, even if the fear didn’t disappear completely. It was enough to breathe again.
They stayed on the porch a little longer, listening to the waves and the distant calls of seabirds settling in for the night. Eventually, the air grew cooler, and Carter nudged Ethan’s knee with his own.
“Come on,” Carter said. “Let’s get some sleep. Long day.”
Inside, the house was profoundly silent, a calmness that softened the sound of each step. They changed, brushed their teeth, and moved around each other in the bathroom with ease.
When they crawled into the bed—Ethan’s grandparents’ old bed—Carter lay on his side, one arm propped under his head. Ethan shifted closer, and Carter met him halfway, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, then another to his cheek. Nothing rushed. Nothing heavy. Just warm, steady affection.
“We should go down to the beach tomorrow,” Ethan said, voice low. “There’s a trail that leads to the tide pools. Sarah and I used to spend hours there.”
Carter smiled—small, real. “Yeah. I want to see it, then we’ll ride our bikes. I know where we can go.”
Ethan rested his head against Carter’s shoulder; the steady rise and fall of Carter’s breathing eased the last of the day’s tension. The fear about his father was still there, tucked somewhere deep with Carter’s arm around him. Tomorrow would come. Tonight, they could just be here. Together.
***
Ethan woke to the sound of waves hitting the rocks below the house, steady and rhythmic, as if the ocean was nudging him awake.
Morning light spilled across the room in thin stripes, catching on the old wooden dresser and the framed photos his grandfather had left behind.
Carter was still beside him, one arm draped loosely over Ethan’s waist, breathing slow and even.
For a moment, Ethan just watched him—how peaceful he looked when he wasn’t overthinking everything. The tightness that had lived in Carter’s shoulders for days was gone, smoothed out by sleep and the ambience of the coast.
Carter’s eyelids fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was Ethan’s face close to his. A small, sleepy smile curved his lips. “Morning,” he said, voice still husky with sleep.
“Morning,” Ethan whispered, closing the space between them for a kiss that was slow and tender.
Ethan’s cock thickened as he moved between Carter’s spread thighs.
He dipped his head and sealed his lips around Carter’s stiff shaft, sucking him deep while his tongue dragged along the underside in long, wet strokes.
Carter’s erection pulsed and leaked against Ethan’s tongue, growing hotter and harder with every pull of Ethan’s mouth.
Ethan wanted to ease every bit of stress still lingering in Carter’s body, to make him feel cherished and wanted.
Carter’s fingers threaded through Ethan’s hair, and he pressed a soft kiss to Ethan’s forehead. “What a beautiful way to wake up,” he murmured, eyes shining with affection.
“I wanted to please you,” Ethan said, voice muffled around the thick length in his mouth.
“You please me more than you’ll ever know.” Carter’s eyes glistened and Ethan saw a few tears well up; the emotion seemed to be too strong for Carter to hold back, as well as coming into Ethan’s mouth.
They rolled together, wrapping each other in a tight embrace, clinging as if the world outside didn’t exist. For a long while they stayed like that, trading slow, lingering kisses—Ethan’s lips brushing Carter’s, then Carter’s returning the gesture, again and again.
“Let’s get up,” Carter whispered. He took Ethan’s hand and led him toward the spacious master bathroom; their fingers laced together the whole way.
“I found these bubbles last night.” Carter pointed to the bottle on top of the sink counter. “I want to give you a bubble bath.”
“Me?” Ethan asked, his face flushing with embarrassment.
Carter’s lips pressed against his, another sweet morning kiss. “I looked around last night when you fell asleep.”
“How romantic,” Ethan said.
Ethan sank deeper into the oversized tub, the warm water lapping at his chest and the thick layer of bubbles shifting around him.
The lavender scent from the bath bombs clung to the steam, filling every breath with a soft, calming sweetness.
He let his head rest against the smooth rim, eyes half-closed, feeling the tension from the night before slowly dissolve.
Carter’s presence alone had lifted the weight he carried, even if Ethan still kept the darkest parts of his past locked away, too afraid to speak them out loud.
Ethan could have stayed there for hours.
Carter reached for his phone and started a soft playlist, the music drifting low and intimate through the bathroom.
Ethan closed his eyes, letting the melody blend with the lavender scent and the gentle lapping of water against his skin.
Carter picked up a soft cloth, dipped it, and began washing him with careful attention—running the fabric over Ethan’s shoulders, down his chest, along his arms, then lower, cleaning every inch with the same tender focus.
“You’re beautiful,” Carter murmured, smiling as Ethan’s cock rose again above the bubbles, flushed and slick.
“I feel like a prince in here,” Ethan said, voice thick with emotion.
“You’re my prince,” Carter answered, leaning in to press a kiss to Ethan’s temple. “I’m happy you’re with me.”
Carter’s hand slipped beneath the water and found Ethan’s cock, fingers wrapping around the thickening shaft with slow, deliberate strokes.
He worked him steadily, thumb brushing over the sensitive head each time it surfaced through the bubbles.
Ethan’s breathing grew heavier, his hips twitching upward into Carter’s grip.
Pleasure built fast and sharp until his cock pulsed hard in Carter’s fist, thick ropes of cum jetting into the water and mixing with the foam.
Ethan leaned forward and captured Carter’s mouth in a slow, lingering kiss, tasting the warmth and affection there.
Carter’s arms came around him, pulling him close even though water splashed over the edge.
“You better be nice to me today,” Carter said against his lips, holding him like he never wanted to let go.
“You can ask me to do anything for you,” Ethan replied, licking his lower lip as his mind flashed with images of Carter taking him again and again—on the bed, against the wall, on the kitchen counter—every hour, every position he could imagine.
“I’ll think of a few things for tonight,” Carter promised, voice low and full of heat.
Carter reached for the shower head. “Stand up.”
Ethan stood.
Carter sprayed Ethan down, then wet his hair. He set the shower head on the hook while he washed his hair. “Beautiful hair.”
“Thanks.”
When he finished, Carter helped Ethan out and wrapped a thick towel around him, drying him with gentle pats before stepping into the shower himself. Once they were both dressed, they headed into town.
The little café by the harbor was filled with the rich aroma of coffee and warm, flaky pastries.
The windows were propped open, allowing the salty sea breeze to drift in.
Ethan ordered pancakes; Carter got eggs and toast, but kept stealing bites from Ethan’s plate like he wasn’t even trying to hide it.
Ethan didn’t mind.
Not today. Not ever.
After breakfast, they walked back to the truck, the sun already warming the sand. The ocean looked impossibly blue, the kind of blue that made Ethan’s chest expand with something bright.
“Still want to swim?” Carter asked, nudging Ethan’s shoulder.
“Yeah.”
They changed into their swim trunks at the house and headed down the narrow path that led to the beach. The sand was cool under their feet at first, then warmer as they got closer to the water. The waves rolled in, foamy and inviting.
Ethan ran ahead, splashing into the surf with a laugh he hadn’t heard from himself in a long time. The cold water hit him like a shock, but a good one—clean, bracing, alive.
Carter followed, slower at first, then diving under a wave with the kind of ease that made Ethan grin. When Carter surfaced, shaking water from his hair, Ethan swam toward him and bumped their shoulders together.
“This is perfect,” Ethan said.
Carter nodded, eyes soft. “Yeah. It is.”
They floated for a while, letting the waves lift and lower them. The sun warmed their faces; the salt clung to their skin. Now and then, Carter reached out and brushed his fingers against Ethan’s arm—small touches, but steady.
Ethan’s fear about his father still lingered somewhere deep. But it lessened with Carter beside him, the ocean stretching wide and open around them.
For the first time in a long time, Ethan could breathe.