Spin Me Sunshine and Make Me Summer

Despite having three drawers of stuff at Brian's apartment, Justin still found himself back in his old room at Deb's on a regular basis picking up fresh supplies or actually sleeping there on the days Brian seemed to need some space. It wasn't that the man said anything to him or behaved any differently per se, just that the teenager figured every few days or so it was probably a good idea to give him a break. As Brian had told him on many occasions, he wasn't a handful--he was two. Plus, even though he would not have thought it possible, he found himself needing a break from Brian. Besides, it made coming back that much better and he could tell that Brian had missed him. Even if he wouldn't admit it.

He rummaged through his clean clothes basket trying to find his orange jersey with the number 23 on it. He hadn't been able to find it at Brian's for three days. Figured it must have still been at Deb's but he wasn't having any luck there either. He hoped it hadn't gotten lost, mixed up in Brian's stuff that the maid took to the cleaners. He still felt a little weird about having a stranger do things like that but Brian swore he was "through with that shit" and refused to even look at a washing machine even though his building had laundry facilities. And when Justin offered to do it himself, he was told in no uncertain terms to drop it. So now one of his favorite shirts was missing. If it was lost for good Brian was going to have to do some major hustling to make it up to him.

Cursing out loud, he stomped downstairs ready to bitch at Brian who sat at the table killing time with Vic and Deb.

"You find it?" he asked.

"No," Justin replied, his tone implying that the question was retarded since he obviously didn't have it in his hands.

Brian raised an eyebrow, cognizant of all the implications, and wisely made no further comment. The teen dropped into the free chair at the table, his body language clearly communicating his disgust. The adults tried to contain their amusement and Brian refused to meet anyone's eye for fear of bursting out laughing which would not have been a smart move given Justin's current disposition.

"Oh," Deb exclaimed suddenly, "you got mail. I think it's about your trip." She got up and retrieved a letter from the pile. Tossed it on the table in front of him. It had the Babylon logo on front of the envelope.

Justin tore it open and commented bitterly, "Probably telling me they've taken the prize back cause they don't want a brain-damaged King."

"Just read it and quit bitching," ordered Brian. "Christ, it's just one shirt."

Giving Brian the evil eye, Justin unfolded the letter and read it out loud. "Dear Justin, in response to your unfortunate attack, several generous benefactors from the gay community have contributed additional funds to your prize package, making it possible for us to arrange for an upgrade in your accommodations at the Baja Mar Majestic Bahamian Resort and to increase the amount of your prize money to $1500. Enclosed is a brochure for the resort, confirmation of your reservations, and traveler's checks in $10, $20, and $50 denominations. Please enjoy your trip and we expect many fabulous pictures." His face lit up. "Can you believe that?"

"Considering what you've been through," said Vic, "you deserve a lot more."

"Here here," agreed Deb."

Brian smiled and suggested, "Now how about you go back up and look for your shirt one more time? It's not at my place so it has to be here."

"But I've looked already," complained Justin.

"Well, I guess you can write it off then," he said nonchalantly.

"Fine." Justin stood. "It's intense about the trip, huh?"

"Totally," Brian replied in his Valley Girl accent.

Sticking out his tongue, the teenager ran back upstairs for round two of Treasure Hunt.

After he'd gone, Deb stared at Brian with a knowing look in her eye. "All right. What gives?"


"You arranged for that extra money, didn't you?"

"I approached some possible contributors," he confessed, then amended that. "Actually one contributor approached me. Dr. Dave. He called, said he wanted to do something so I suggested he sweeten the prize pot."

"And how much of your own money is in the pot?" Vic asked.

He started to answer, then changed his mind. "It doesn't matter."

"Does he know how much you love him?" asked Deb, pleased to see how disconcerted her question made him: he actually blushed.

Regaining his composure, he stated, "I only travel first-class," as if that explained everything.

"Uh-huh," she said, winking at Vic. They both laughed.

Disgusted, Brian got up and went to help the Boy Wonder look for his fucking shirt.

Intercepting Justin's hand just as it was about to slip down into his briefs, Brian held him in a firm grip. "No."


He shook his head to emphasize the point. "I'm tired." Hoping Justin had gotten the picture, he released him.

Begrudgingly, the teen made no further attempts on his virtue. Only slipped an arm around his lover's waist and laid his head upon his chest. To go to sleep Brian hoped. But, of course, Justin wasn't tired at all.

"Are you excited about the trip?" he asked.

"Yeah," replied Brian, closing his eyes and preparing himself for another half hour of talk.

"That suite is incredible. I still can't believe it."

"It's the best."

Justin stroked an area of skin just over Brian's ribs, not in a sensual way but almost in the way some children held onto their parent's hands: for comfort. "A whole week. Just you and me. Away from Pittsburgh."

At that Brian smiled. He was looking forward to the trip. With as many opportunities to go away with some guy as he'd been presented over the years, he'd never taken advantage of them, reckoning correctly that he didn't have the patience or stamina to put up with some schmuck for an entire weekend let alone an entire week. Chet had pestered him to go away with him but he'd put him off until they'd argued and that was the end of that brief affair. He chuckled. Fuckman and the Boy Wonder alone together for a week in a tropical paradise.

Justin looked up at him. "What's so funny?"

"Something Deb said," he replied.

"Guess what?" Justin asked excitedly not bothering to find out what Deb had said.


"My mom said she'd buy me a some new clothes to take to the Bahamas. We're going shopping this Saturday. You wanna come?"

"You, your mom, and me? Shopping?" He snickered. "And then what? High tea at the Country Club?"

Justin tickled Brian causing him to snort in laughter. "She's cool."

"Now. But I remember a certain someone running to my place, hiding out from his big, bad mommy like a scared, little boy," Brian reminded him.

"Shut up," he said pinching Brian's tit. The man yelped and rubbed his sore nipple. Justin instantly regretted his actions and kissed it. Then begged, "Come on. Come with us. It'll be nice."

"I'm not nice," Brian replied.

"Yes, you are. You just don't want anyone to know. Afraid it'll ruin your reputation." He kissed Brian's chest. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone," he said, giving Brian back his words in the hotel room in New York.

Brian pursed his lips. "I'll think about it. I'm not making any promises."

But Justin raised up and kissed him anyway. "I love you."

"You'd better, all the shit I put up with for you."

Justin straddled his waist. "How about I show you just how grateful I am?"

Groaning, Brian replied, "Justin, I'm bushed."

He kissed the ad exec's throat, right in the hollow, and made his way across his breastbone. "I promise you'll feel much better when we're done."

Wrapping his arms around Justin and rolling them over, Brian whispered, "Christ, you're killing me..."

Only Justin had taken pity on him and had let him go to sleep after a few minutes of heavy petting, both of them slightly aroused, lovemaking postponed until morning. Which was why he was standing in the middle of fucking Old Navy while Justin tried on another pair of shorts. That were way too long in his opinion. Maybe this called for a trip to his tailor. And then Justin came out wearing a pair of khaki hiking shorts. Jennifer eyed him carefully.

"I don't know, honey... I think those are too small." She turned to Brian. "Don't you think those are too small?"

Brian didn't hear a word she said, he was too busy checking out Justin's ass, which was looking particularly tasty in those shorts. The teen realized what he was doing and flexed his cheeks which sent a pulse through Brian's cock.

"Brian?" repeated Jennifer. "Brian?"

He finally heard her. "Hmm?"

"Don't you think those shorts are too small?"

"Actually, I..." He licked his lips, trying not to imagine Justin in the loft, with the shorts halfway down his legs. "I think those... are good." He nodded. "Those look fine to me."

Looking from Brian to the object of his attention, she surrendered. "I suppose it is going to be pretty hot down there..."

Brian agreed. "An inferno." He gave Justin a little push. "Go change. I think this calls for Speedo's."

Jennifer took one look at Justin wearing those golden running shorts, slit up the side with about a four-inch inseam, and she was having none of it. "Absolutely--"

"Perfect," finished Brian. "They're perfect. I think you should get the red ones too." As Jennifer readied herself to object again, he handed Justin two pairs of swimming briefs that he had found while the teen had been changing. "Try these."

Justin held up one of the swimsuits, it was a sapphire thong.

Before he could say anything, Jennifer freaked. "Ah... no. Put those back."

"But, Mom--"

"No," she said firmly.

"But, Jennifer--" pleaded Brian.

"No." She refused to even talk about it any further. Taking the thong from Justin, she left to return it to its rack.

When Justin's mom had gone out of hearing, Brian said grinning, "Wait 'til you see what I really got you."

Justin whispered back, "What?"

"It's a surprise." He slipped his hand beneath the leg of the running shorts Justin had on and cupped his buttock. "Least the thong took her mind off of these."

Smiling brightly, Justin pulled Brian into the dressing room and kissed him. "You're devious."

Out of the corner of his eye, Brian spotted Jennifer returning with a baggy pair of swim shorts and nearly laughed. She'd have a heart attack if she saw the trunks he'd bought online for himself and Justin. Well, they'd just have to remember not to take any incriminating pictures while they were wearing them. Not that they'd be wearing them for very long...

"You all packed?" Lindsay asked as they strolled through the park, she pushing the empty stroller and Brian carrying Gus in his arms.

"Almost," he answered. "I'm trying to walk a fine line between tastefulness and nakedness."

"Which is winning, as if I didn't know?"

"Nakedness, of course."

She laughed. "You're planning to spend a lot of time in your room, right?"

Grinning, he raised his eyebrows. "Not a bad plan."

Bumping him with her hip, she smiled. "I'm proud of you."

"For what?"

"For doing this."

He looked confused. "For going on vacation?"

Not buying his innocent act for a moment, she replied, "For going with Justin."

"Well, the tickets and reservations are in his name," he pointed out to her.

"I'm serious."

"Can we not talk this to death?"

Lindsay smirked. "You're embarrassed."

Showing Gus a bird, he ignored her at first and then he asked, "Embarrassed by what?"

"By the fact that you're actually looking forward to going away with him."

Brian refused to concede the point. Talked to the baby instead. "Did I give you the number to my hotel, Gus?"

"You did," she said, thinking, How sweet but she continued to smirk. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't have a romantic bone in your body."

Giving a long suffering sigh, Brian babbled to Gus in an attempt to tune her out. "So what do you want Dadda to bring you back from the Bahamas? Huh?"

"How about Justin in one piece?"

"Justin?" He frowned. "Why wouldn't he be in one piece?"

Her mouth opened and closed and then she said, "You do have a temper, Brian."

"I'm not gonna kill him."

"Just... think before you speak. And remember, he's only eighteen."

"I know how old he is," he snapped.

"See? You're angry already."

He took a breath and cocked his head. "No. I'm not." Chewed on his gum. "So. Is there gonna be some lame-ass going away party for us?"


"I told you I didn't want one."

"What about Justin?"

"He can go."

She took hold of his arm and looked him hard in the eyes. "You'd better show up. Or else."

In the mood for a challenge, he asked, "Or else what?"

"Or else I tell Mel about the poem you gave to Justin."

Eyes narrowing, he frowned. "Bitch."

She covered Gus' ears. "Little pitchers"

Grinning, he mouthed, "Bitch."

Gus looked at Lindsay and then up at his Dadda and gurgled. Brian laughed, "Exactly," switched arms, and they continued on their way.

Justin could hardly close his eyes, he was so excited about their trip tomorrow. He sat up in bed, careful not to wake Brian, and wrote in his journal. "Tomorrow Brian and I leave on our trip to the Bahamas. I can't wait. We're going to have so much fun, I just know it. The guys threw us a going away party and afterwards we came home and made love and then Brian fell asleep. He's been really tired lately. I hope he gets some rest on our vacation. Except that there are so many things to do. I guess if we don't do everything, that's okay too. But I do want to go snorkeling and sightseeing and maybe parasailing but I don't know if Brian'll let me. He's been really protective of me since the attack. It's kind of sweet. But he can't protect me from everything. I was more afraid of going to see Cam than I am of going parasailing. Anyway, if I don't go, it won't be the end of the world. As long as I'm with him, I don't care about anything else. I'd better go soon before he wakes up. Next time I write in here, I'll be in the Bahamas!" Closing his journal, he switched off the bedside lamp and got under the covers.

Now that the light was off, Brian figured he'd be able to sleep too. Tomorrow was a big day. Him and Justin, alone for seven days and six nights. The bed shifted as Justin snuggled up to his back and slipped his arm around his waist. Justin didn't seem comfortable in bed unless he was touching Brian and he indulged him. Truthfully, it relaxed him too. Mentally going over the list of things he'd had to attend to before going away, he checked each of them off in his mind. Everything looked to be in order. All he had to do was sleep. So he closed his eyes and slept.

Michael dropped them off at the airport before work, giving them each a big hug and making them promise to pick him up any unique Bahamian comics or graphic novels if they saw any. As if they would bother to look.

The plane left on time and as soon as it lifted off from the tarmac, they felt their last ties to Pittsburgh dissolve. They were headed for a completely new place where entirely new adventures awaited them.

Brian declined coffee but knocked back a glass of orange juice and requested seconds. He had a feeling he'd be needing all of his systems operating at peak condition for this trip. Glancing over at Justin he became aware of the hungry look in his eyes. He was definitely going to need all of his strength.

"What do you think we should do first when we get there?" asked Justin.

"Whatever the King decrees," Brian replied.

Grinning devilishly, the teenaged King of Babylon thought about it, then leaned over and whispered into his subject's ear. Brian laughed and pushed him away gently. "You said whatever I decreed."

"If the body's willing," Brian reminded him. "Which, at this point, I'm not so sure about."

"Come on, old man," teased Justin, tugging on his arm. "I bet you can still get it up for your little boy," he whispered.

Not answering him, Brian turned and took his glass of orange juice from the attendant and drank it in silence, a mysterious little smile appearing on his face.

Satisfied Justin closed his eyes and daydreamed about their suite with its huge mahogany four-poster bed.

Over the course of their flight they flipped through the brochures the hotel had sent them and tried to sketch out a rough, very rough itinerary. "So we can spend one day on the private island, and one day in the city, and maybe go over to Freeport one day..." Justin turned to Brian. "You sure you're up to tourists and tourists' kids?"

"No kids allowed at the resort."

"But they'll be in the city and everywhere else."

"I promise to be on my best behavior." He placed one hand over his heart.

"That's no fun," Justin pouted.

"Outside of our room. Inside our room, all bets are off."


Brian took his hand and squeezed it once. "I packed a few toys," he said mischievously.

Justin laughed. "God, I hope they didn't open your suitcase."

Leaning in, Brian whispered, "Me too. There's an eighteen-inch double dong in there."

Face flushed, Justin looked out of the window and tried not to think about the dildo or its purpose. Next to him, Brian snickered.

Although the flight was only three hours with a brief layover in Atlanta, Justin got sleepy. Of course, he hadn't slept very much the night before. So he pillowed his head on Brian's shoulder and took a nap. While Brian read Advertising Age. He'd promised Justin no work but he was bored and he'd already read Vogue cover to cover--as if anyone could be said to actually read Vogue. As he leafed through an article on marketing on the web, he noticed that the couple across the aisle kept glancing over at him and Justin. Probably at the way the teen was curled against his side. Putting on his best Madison Avenue smile, he asked, "Would you like to see this?" indicating the magazine in his hand. Flustered, they demurred and after that he noticed they kept their disapproving eyes to themselves. Assholes. Still, he thought he'd handled that quite well. Maybe he'd tell Justin, it ought to be worth a couple of long, lingering kisses.

They had both dozed off by the time they got within sight of the islands. The attendant shook them awake, Justin having secured her promise that she would if they were still asleep when they reached their destination. Thanking her, he raised the window shade and Brian leaned over. "It's beautiful," the teen remarked in awe, eyes fixed on the multi-hued blue water and the first green and white glimpses of land.

Brian kissed his jaw. "So are you." Looking around at his lover, the Boy Wonder smiled, his blue eyes sparkling brighter than the ocean below them. "You're missing it," Brian reminded him.

"Missing what?"

"The view."

And Justin shook his head. All the view he wanted was right in front of him: hazel-eyed and red-lipped. Their mouths touched briefly and they stayed close for a moment, foreheads pressed together.

As they neared the luggage carrels Justin spotted a man in chauffeur's livery holding a sign with his name on it. He walked over and said excitedly, "I'm Justin Taylor."

From where he stood Brian could see the man's expression change ever so slightly but, to give him his due, Justin probably never noticed it, the man was such a professional. He heard him say, "I'll show you to the car and if you'll describe your luggage and give me the claim tickets, I'll retrieve your bags and we can be on our way, sir."

Justin waved Brian over and they followed the man to the cream-colored Rolls Royce parked outside. The chauffeur took their luggage claim tickets, descriptions committed to a note pad, and went to grab their stuff, leaving them alone in the car.

Craning his neck, Justin took in everything even though they were only in the airport. Sitting back, Brian decided to steal all the down time he could. He smiled, remembering how pissed he'd been when the MC at the King of Babylon contest announced the next contestant and he'd heard her say, "Justy." Before he had even looked up, he'd known it was Justin. He had been pissed off even more when he'd realized the trick he'd been attempting to pick up was more interested in watching Justin dance than in making out with him. Of course, it'd been impossible for him not to watch the teen either. His limber, lithe, strong body gyrating on stage, swinging around that pole... Then there was everything that had happened afterwards. God, when he'd gone downstairs to the backroom and seen Justin with that guy, he'd felt like his entire world had begun to fall apart. But they had reconciled, the way they had always done. And now they were enjoying the fruits of that episode. He smiled again and this time Justin noticed and smiled back. Moved closer to him and took hold of his hand. By the time the chauffeur returned, they were wild-eyed and slightly out of breath.

On the way to the resort, the chauffeur tried to make up for his initial blunder by asking them if they had ever been to the Bahamas before, and how long they were staying, and giving them tips about what to see and do. Brian thought the guy had probably been won over by Justin's infectious good-naturedness. It was hard to resist for long. He ought to know, he'd resisted it longer than most. And now he didn't know why. Despite everything, all the problems they'd had, would continue to have, nothing seemed serious enough to keep them apart, not when he could wake up to that smile, to those eyes that promised him everything, that trusted him, loved him. He glanced out of the window, a little misty, and Justin shifted his attention to him. Turning back towards the teen, he smiled to let him know everything was okay. It never failed to amaze him, how in tune Justin was to his mercurial moods. Satisfied that Brian was all right, Justin asked the driver about visiting the other islands, his hand resting lightly on Brian's thigh. After a moment, Brian laid his hand upon Justin's and listened to the driver's advice as to which of the other islands were worth visiting--all of them--and what they had to offer.

They alit from the car beneath the grand entranceway and stared around in amazement. Brian laughed and pointed to the copy of Michelangelo's David nestled in between the shrubbery. "This is definitely the place for you," he told Justin.

There was a tense moment at the check-in desk when Justin was asked to produce a photo ID to prove he was eighteen. Of course, at first they assumed that Brian was Justin even though he hadn't said anything, preferring to let Justin handle it since it was his prize trip after all. Then, once the mistaken identity issue was cleared up, they requested proof of age. Aware that Brian's patience was running thin, Justin quickly produced his driver's license. Satisfied, the clerk completed the check-in procedures and handed Justin two electronic card keys. They returned to the car and the chauffeur drove them over to the Morgan Tower where their suite was located. There, the driver turned them over to the concierge who arranged for a bellhop to carry their luggage upstairs to their sixth floor suite.

Justin unlocked the door and held it open for the bellhop who looked slightly scandalized. As the man carried their bags to the bedroom, Justin asked, "What?"

"You were supposed to let him open the door for us."

"But he had all of our bags."

Brian kissed him on the head and waited for the bellhop to return and guide them through the suite's features as if they couldn't discover that on their own. There was a marble-top mini bar which was restocked everyday, fresh flowers on the coffee table in the living room, a 200 square feet balcony with table and chairs and chaise lounges overlooking the pool area with a view of the ocean; the bedroom boasted a king-sized mahogany four-poster bed, a twenty-seven inch television with VCR; in a bucket next to the bed was a complimentary bottle of champagne, and there was a mirrored dressing table off in the corner; the bathroom contained a sunken Roman-style tub, had Italian marble tile floors, a two-sink mirrored vanity, complimentary hotel bathrobes and toiletries, plush cotton towels, and a glass-walled shower big enough for two. At the end of Ray's spiel, they bid him farewell and waited patiently for him to leave. As soon as the door closed, they fell into one another's arms. Justin wanted Brian so badly at that moment he thought he'd explode if they didn't make love soon. And then there came a discreet knock on the door.

"Shit," exclaimed Brian, one hand poised to unzip Justin's cargo pants, the other cupping the teen's right breast, thumb brushing over his nipple ring. They parted and tried to restore some semblance of order to their appearance before Brian went to see who had disturbed them. Opening the door rather quickly, he asked a bit abruptly of the stranger who stood across the threshold, "Yes?"

"I'm Henry, sir," the startled man announced. "I'll be one of your personal butlers during your stay with us. I work the day shift from seven until three, Colin works from three to eleven, and Marcus is here from eleven to seven."

Having calmed down, Brian said graciously, "Good to meet you."

"If you ever need us, just dial '7' on the telephone. Is there anything I can get you now, sir?"

Aware that Justin had vanished into the bedroom during their brief exchange, he responded, "No. Thanks. Maybe in an hour."

"Well, enjoy your vacation, sir."

"We will." Brian smiled and waited for Henry to turn away before firmly shutting the door. Then he opened it again and for good measure hung the 'Do not disturb' sign on the handle before practically running to the bedroom where Justin lay naked on the bed. Good boy. As Brian climbed onto the bed, he rose and helped him to undress in record time.

Justin voiced as sigh as Brian entered him and immediately started moaning when his lover began to slowly move in and out of him. He hadn't believed that Brian could control his movements to such a degree given the aroused state they'd both been in but, as always, the man managed to surprise him with his skillful lovemaking. He went about loving Justin leisurely, thoroughly, stoking the fire that burned inside them until they both felt as if they were making love inside a furnace. Perspiration dripped off of their bodies, skin sliding against skin, the sweat and lube making a slippery glove of Justin's asshole, one that grabbed at Brian's cock each time it began to withdraw.

"Brian, Brian..." Justin whispered into his neck as Brian twisted his head to catch his breath.

"What, baby?"

"Stay in me." His lover's cock was lodged right up against his prostate and he could feel a shout developing in his belly, if only Brian wouldn't pull out, would only keep pushing right there.

Brian kissed him hungrily and began to slam against him, thrusting hard into his hole, against his prostate, and Justin clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to scream, but it felt so good and he... he couldn't keep it in, he couldn't hold it back. At the last possible moment, Brian clamped his mouth over Justin's and the teen shouted down his throat as cum erupted from his cock to flood the plane of his belly. Justin's hole palpitating his cock from top to bottom, Brian moaned and shot his load, his buttocks flexing as he continued to drive his dick into his lover's trembling depths.

After a quick shower, Justin slipped on one of the hotel's complimentary robes while Brian opted for his black silk one and they curled up on the sofa, looking through the archway past the balcony at the blue blue water surrounding them. They could see a couple of sailboats out in the harbor and could hear people splashing in the pool below, although the sound was a distant hum. Justin warm in his arms, Brian rested his chin on top of his head and asked, "You want to go down for lunch or have it sent up here?"

"Up here," he replied quietly.

"You okay?"

"I just wanna be with you." He turned and they kissed.

Parting from the teen, Brian wondered aloud where the butler might have put the restaurant menus.

"I bet we can order anything we want," Justin said and Brian silently agreed, mentally grumbling that at these prices they ought to be able to have lobster morning, noon, and night. But then he saw Justin's face, how relaxed and happy he seemed to be, and he couldn't begrudge the hotel the money he had contributed to their trip.

"See if the menus are in the writing desk," he suggested. Justin checked it out. Held them up triumphantly. He returned to the sofa and they flipped through them trying to find something they wanted. Finally Justin decided on a roasted chicken sandwich and Brian chose the grilled mahi mahi with fresh vegetables.

Justin dialed '7' and put in their order with Henry, then rejoined Brian on the sofa. "I guess we should get dressed."

Nibbling on his earlobe, Brian paused. "What for?"

"He'll be here in half an hour he said."

"So? We've both got on robes and I promise not to flash my dick at him." He reached inside Justin's robe and stroked his thigh. "Isn't this much better than clothes?"

As Brian's nimble fingers kneaded the flesh of his inner thighs, Justin had to admit that he didn't give a fuck who was coming up or when, just as long as Brian kept doing what he was doing.

By the time Henry arrived they had both forgotten about lunch and were half out of their robes. Drawing them close again, Justin went to let the butler in with their order while Brian cleared a spot on the coffee table for their food. If Henry noticed the front of their robes tenting over their erections, he didn't give a hint of it. Placing the trays on the coffee table, he wished them a good meal and departed.

Purposely ignoring Justin's attempts to pick up where they had been interrupted, Brian turned his attention to the mahi mahi. Pouting a little, Justin settled for his company while they ate.

"So what's on the agenda for this afternoon?" Brian asked.

"Maybe we can just stay up here," Justin suggested and Brian put down his fork, a chunk of fish still speared upon it.

"What's wrong?" he asked and the teen shrugged. "Spit it out."

"I just feel like they're all staring at us," he confessed.

"I keep telling people not to hate us cause we're beautiful," Brian joked.

"They hate us because we're gay and I'm a kid," said Justin quietly.

Brian took the boy in his arms and held him in a firm but tender grip. "Look at us. Look at all the shit we've had to take from family and friends, from people we know and have to see every day. These people, we don't ever have to see again once we leave here. And if I don't give a fuck what everybody back home in Pittsburgh thinks about us, you really think I give a shit what strangers are saying about us behind our backs?" He smiled. "We deserve this trip and we're going to have a fabulous time. Plus, we are going to look so hot, they're all gonna want us: men, women, gay, straight, bi... it won't matter... they're all going to wish they were with us. But it's too fuckin' bad because there's only room in this suite for two people: you and me." He kissed Justin and picked up his fork again. "So what are we doing this afternoon?"

"I wanna go swimming," Justin replied, taking a big bite out of his sandwich.

"You go swimming, I'll lay out on the beach." And he wondered to himself if they had nude sunbathing and if Justin would let him even if they did.

An hour later they headed for a relatively empty stretch of beach where they spotted two chairs with a beach umbrella between them. Justin followed Brian musing to himself that the ad exec was the only man he'd ever known who actually wore a cover-up. A black fishnet jacket that fell just to the bottom edge of his swimsuit making his lengthy legs seem even longer. True to his prediction, both men and women watched his progress and far from being derisive, their eyes registered only envy and desire. But Brian didn't notice. Black sunglasses covering his eyes, he adjusted the beach umbrella against the glare of the sun and dropped off his cover-up. Retrieved the bottle of sunscreen from their bag and proceeded to slather it on. Handed Justin the bottle to do his back, after which he motioned for Justin to take off his tee-shirt and he did his back, letting the teen do the rest. Justin dropped into his chair as well and waited for the sunscreen to dry before going into the water.

"You sure you won't come in with me?" he asked when he was ready.

Brian lifted his sunglasses briefly. "See you later."

Looking back one last time at Brian's long, lean body stretched out in the lounger, Justin waved. Brian waved back and then shooed him on. The teen paused at the water's edge, slid his goggles down over his eyes, took a deep breath, and ran in. He was one of those people who believed it was better to get it over with all at once rather than dipping in a toe and waiting and then gradually immersing yourself.

From the shore, Brian smirked and shook his head. Justin never did anything tentatively. He guessed they were alike in that regard.

As he sliced through the water, Justin thought about how great it was going to be to go snorkeling later in the trip. The water was so clear. Even without the gear, he was able to stay under long enough to catch glimpses of curious fish. Maybe they could take the hotel diving course and go diving too. You could only go down thirty feet but that was enough to see some great wrecks and the coral reefs. He hoped he could talk Brian into it. He couldn't believe how relaxed Brian seemed to be. And he hadn't gotten snippy all day, which was a minor miracle. His mom wouldn't believe it--hell, none of the gang would believe it. He'd always said that Brian was a different person when he was with him.

Surfacing again, he made his way back to the shore and was distracted by the people parasailing from a boat a little further out. Bobbing in the waves, he watched as one guy lifted from the platform, canopy opened above him, and he knew he had to find some way to convince Brian to let him try. Thinking of Brian, he figured he'd better check to see if he was okay and to see if he needed to get rid of any dead bodies in his vicinity. He found his lover lightly dozing in his chair, an open bottle of water held loosely in his hand, cradled between his thighs. As soon as Justin neared him, he opened his eyes and lifted his sunglasses. "Done already?"

"For now." He sat and grabbed a cold bottle from the bag. Draining it, he leaned back in his chair and squinted at the parasailors.

"Where are your sunglasses?"

"I don't have any," Justin replied.

"You'll get wrinkles like that," pronounced Brian. "We'll stop by the gift shop."

Taking the plunge, Justin pointed to the people parasailing and asked, "Doesn't that look like fun?"

"Sure." Justin smiled. "If you find the idea of suicide to be fun." His smile faded. "Don't even think about it."


"But nothing. Your mom said nothing dangerous."

"It's not dangerous. Those guys are probably drunk and they're doing it."

"Oh, there's a ringing endorsement." He lowered his sunglasses, conversation over.

"Spoilsport," bitched Justin, folding his arms angrily over his chest.

"Remember what I said about Europe?"


"If we both make it back home with no major injuries..."

Justin's mouth fell open. "That's blackmail. Besides, I thought you meant--Ooo." He frowned, then stuck out his tongue.

"How juvenile. And when did we graduate from high school?"

This we graduated three weeks ago. That we--"

"Watch it, little boy," Brian warned. Justin crossed his eyes and pouted. "The answer's still no. "

"I'm going back in," Justin announced suddenly.

"Bye," said Brian. "Watch out for sharks."

As he stomped down to the water, Justin began to grin. He'd convince Brian to let him go parasailing. Just wait. All he needed was an opportunity.

The moment they entered the shop, a sales woman neared them and offered her assistance.

"He needs a pair of sunglasses. Do you have anything with coconuts on them?" Brian joked, bringing his water bottle up to his mouth.

"I do not want a pair of balls pressing down on my nose," Justin replied with a straight face and Brian almost choked. "Got any Ray Bans?" he asked innocently.

As Justin followed her, Brian smacked his bottom and the teen grabbed his butt to protect it from further attack.

Sunglasses secured, the rest of the afternoon was spent strolling down the beach, stopping every so often to take pictures, and to sit and look out at the ocean and talk about nothing: their plans for the evening, gifts for everyone back home... Returning to the resort complex, they explored all the nooks and crannies, taking more photos of everything and getting the general layout of the place fixed in their minds.

Brian reminded Justin that he had to call his mom and Deb and the teen did so, spending--for him and his mom and Deb--a relatively short time on the phone. "Brian says 'Hi,' " he told each of them even though the supposed speaker was at the moment sitting on the balcony nursing a bourbon and water. When he was done with his calls, Justin joined him and stole a sip of his drink, expecting Brian to fuss but the man barely seemed to notice.

He was gazing out at the ocean, mesmerized by the view. "It's so peaceful here," he said at last. Reached over and laced his fingers with Justin's.

The teen raised their hands to his mouth and brushed his lips over Brian's knuckles. "I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad you invited me."

Standing, Justin went around the table and perched on Brian's lap. "How glad?"

"I'll show you." Brian kissed him softly. "Later."

Groaning, Justin tried to get him to change his mind but Brian just politely refused his every advance until the boy was forced to admit defeat. Returning to his own seat, he took another sip of Brian's drink. A poor substitute--no substitute at all really--but it'd do for now.

Eventually they retired to the bedroom and Brian slept for an hour or so while Justin watched a video he'd had Colin bring up from the library in the concierge's office. The volume turned down low, Justin sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed and hoped he wasn't disturbing Brian. It didn't look like it. Brian was snoring softly and even when the soundtrack got louder--catching Justin by surprise so that he fumbled to lower the volume even more--Brian didn't stir. Finally, just as Mercutio was challenging Tybalt to a duel, "Here's my fiddlestick," he awoke, stretched, and declared himself in need of dinner.

No matter how many times Justin watched Brian dress, he never grew tired of doing so. His own preparations far less elaborate, he was endlessly fascinated by the man's toiletry. Brian showered first, taking care to wash his hair twice before applying the leave-in conditioner. He moisturized his skin even though he used a moisturizing shower gel. Of course, the moisturizer was in addition to the twice weekly application of the French anti-aging cream. About which he was fastidious. Then he shaved, using a hypo-allergenic gel that minimized razor burns and a German razor that glided over his skin. After he shaved he usually dressed and then attended to his hair, styling it to fit his ensemble. Selecting the right outfit sometimes took as little as a few minutes or as much as ten or twenty. His hair took at least that long. Justin observed him in awe. And Deb complained about the amount of time he took in the bathroom.

Tonight he wore a pair of navy, light-weight, worsted wool slacks with a blue-grey silk shirt. Justin put on his cream-colored linen trousers and a matching gold-striped oxford. As they checked their appearance in the full-length mirror, standing side by side, Brian declared them to be eminently fuckable and on-schedule. They had a whole ten minutes to make their eight o'clock dinner reservations at the hotel's French restaurant.

Although he had vowed to have a light meal, Brian did eat one and a half of Justin's lobster ravioli and had dessert after consuming a salmon roulade filled with crayfish mousse. Granted the dessert was a poached pear with raspberry sauce but it was dessert nonetheless. Justin, on the other hand, with the metabolism of a gerbil in heat, consumed, in addition to the lobster ravioli, a bowl of seafood chowder, pan-seared veal chops, and a piece of dense chocolate cake with a rich white chocolate rum sauce. Brian looked on in amusement as the teen longingly gazed at the dessert table, dreaming of seconds. Standing, the man coaxed him from the table by saying, "The sooner we walk off dinner, the sooner we can head upstairs."

Most of the resort's guests who hadn't gone into Nassau were either still at dinner, or in the theatre listening to one of the local bands, or in one of the resort's seven bars waiting for the disco to open at midnight so the beach was relatively deserted. They walked along the shore for half an hour, hand-in-hand, the sun already set, not saying much, just walking and enjoying one another's company.

When they returned to their suite, Brian checked the champagne he had put on ice before they left. It was perfectly chilled. Justin had grabbed something from his drawer and gone into the bathroom to change saying it was a surprise. Brian grinned. He had a surprise of his own.

Justin studied himself in the mirror. Perfect. With a sly smile curling about his lips, he stepped out of the bathroom and froze. Brian was lying on the bed on his side wearing a pair of sheer, black silk georgette lounging pants edged in satin and a three-quarter length matching robe. With nothing else underneath. Not even a jock, or a thong, or anything. It was as if his body were shrouded in a mist that swirled about him revealing his beauty in tantalizing glimpses. The teen could hardly breathe.

Neither could Brian. When Justin had said that he had a surprise for him, he would never have guessed it was a solid black lycra tank top and a matching pair of zip-off shorts. The material conformed to his every curve as if he had been dipped in liquid leather. His cock and nipple ring pressed against the fabric, beckoning Brian to take a closer look.

Slowly Justin crossed to the bed. Brian held out his hand and he took it, trembling a little. He climbed onto his lover and they kissed for a long while, neither of them wanting it to end. Finally they parted and he curled up next to Brian, accepting a glass of champagne. Brian's eyes glistened and Justin knew that no matter what, he would never forget this moment and how beautiful his man had looked. His man. "To us," Brian proposed and Justin touched his glass to Brian's. "To us." He only took the smallest sip before setting his glass down. He had to touch Brian now, make love to him now. The older man apparently felt the same urge because he too put down his glass and moved closer to his young lover.

Justin heard him sigh as he slipped his hand under his robe and stroked his nipple. They joined in a kiss that began gently enough and roughened as they gave into their desires. Justin had to stop himself from biting Brian's mouth, he wanted him so badly. Instead, he caught Brian's lower lip between his own and sucked it until Brian pulled way and sucked his in return. All the while they kissed their hands never stopped roaming, grabbing hold of solid flesh, sliding over smooth skin, kneading hard muscles. Justin drew Brian down upon him, their groins rubbing against one another, and he sensed Brian taking hold of the zipper on the side of his shorts. Slowly Brian unzipped the trunks--just on one side and not all the way off--the sound of the zipper head traveling over the metal teeth sending chills up Justin's spine. Then Brian eased his hand under the fabric, cupping Justin's plump buttock in the palm of his hand. The teen rolled over on top of him and they continued to writhe about, mouths locked together, while Brian's fingers explored Justin's exposed cheek. Then, impatient to have access to both, Brian unzipped the other side and made a two-handed grab for his buttocks. Fuck, his ass is fantastic, thought Brian as he stroked the crevice, the mounds, the sides of Justin's behind, feeling the muscles flex beneath his palms. He had to have more. Releasing Justin, he ordered him to, "Take everything off and lie on your stomach."

The teen complied, watching with regret as Brian slipped out of his robe and pants. He loved the way the silk felt against his skin. He tingled remembering the sensation. When Brian was through stripping, he knelt over Justin's head, lifted his glass of champagne, and poured it over Justin's back and down the center of his ass. Justin exhaled sharply, his shoulder blades drawing in, as the cool liquid ran down over his sides and along the length of his spine. It was mostly the shock of it as the champagne felt so good on his overheated skin. And then Brian's tongue followed the liquid's path: between his shoulders, down along his ribcage, rising and falling over the bumps along his backbone, descending between his cheeks. Justin gasped as Brian's tongue slithered along his ass' divide, down and around his hole.

The heady mix of Justin's natural flavor and aroma and the taste and smell of the champagne led Brian to his target. Eyes closed, he had made his way from the teen's shoulders down into the depths of his ass. Parting his cheeks, he licked Justin's hole, the fine hairs around it damp with champagne. Again he curled his tongue against the knot of flesh and was rewarded when the lips tightened, then relaxed. He could hear Justin sighing as he rimmed him. He loved his little boy's ass. He dreamt about it sometimes, sitting in his office, imagining all the different ways he could open it, eat it, fuck it. Responding to Brian's efforts, the lips relaxed enough for him to get the tip of his tongue inside and he plugged Justin's hole repeatedly until the teen bit down on the pillow to stifle his cries. Giving the red bud a final lick, Brian sat up and glanced down at his cock, stiff and neglected. But not for long.

After catching his breath, Justin moved from beneath Brian and made his lover sit. Then, famished, he attacked Brian's dick, sucking him until he was hard enough to remain erect. Reaching for the same glass of champagne, Justin let a stream trickle over Brian's cock and balls. Not giving him a moment to react, he went about lapping the wine from his skin, slurping it from his piss hole, cleaning the shaft, and sucking his nuts until they were both drunk with lust. Eyes glazed, he continued to feed on Brian's dick, having hungered for the taste all day. He remembered swimming earlier that day and getting a hard-on thinking about Brian's cock, safely tucked away inside his swimsuit, thinking about how his balls would hang heavy between his thighs when freed, how his cock would lengthen and thicken under his guidance. Gobbling Brian's dick, Justin couldn't imagine every having Brian deep enough inside him, either down his throat or up his ass.

Brian gripped the headboard and steadied himself as his cock emerged glistening from Justin's mouth. Saliva ran down the teen's chin and his lips were red and swollen to match Brian's dick and his own asshole which had been so lovingly pleasured by Brian's red and swollen lips and tongue. Then, slowly, Justin licked the head of his prick and Brian felt the room shift. He reached down and eased Justin away from his meat, wrapped his hand around the base and pressed down against his sac. Took great gulps of air and tried to clear his head. Christ, that had been so close.

Justin lay back on the bed, his head about five inches from the foot, and began to stroke his cock. Thinking about Brian's dick buried in his ass. Suddenly Brian grabbed his leg and pulled him towards him. He was on his knees now and he lifted Justin's legs and lower back from the spread and lowered his head between the teen's thighs. Justin gave a cry as Brian's mouth opened around his erection and he was repaid in kind for his treatment of Brian's cock. His meat throbbed each time Brian's head rose, pulling on him, stretching him further and further until he had reached his full length. Letting him slide from his lips, Brian rubbed his palm along the neck of his cock while he fed on his scrotum. Justin knew that Brian loved his balls, he'd told him on more than one occasion, but he'd never acted as if he wanted to suck them right from their sac before. The pressure bordered on pain and Justin gave a cry at which Brian released him, his eyes hazy with desire.

His lover buried inside him, Justin pressed back against him, meeting his thrusts. Brian lay half on his back, half on his side, Justin bucking on top of him. He couldn't pump as hard as he'd have liked but the sensation of Justin's buttocks brushing against his groin set him on fire and all he wanted was to lie back and enjoy the feel of the teen's silky smooth skin against his own; the feel of him tight and warm around his cock; to enjoy the sound of their breathing, harsh, abrupt; the sound of Justin calling to him breathlessly as he stirred in his arms. "Brian, Brian... Brian..." Oh God... They lay together barely moving, Brian's arm tight around Justin's chest, one hand wrapped loosely about his cock, stroking him with long, easy motions... Justin getting harder and tighter, chest expanding as he fought for air, legs falling open, thighs tensing then relaxing, toes digging into the bed as he got closer and closer to his climax. Finally he couldn't take the leisurely pace any longer and he rolled Brian onto his back and knelt over him. He rode Brian's cock until sweat blinded him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gave a cry and arched his back. Cum fell in thick droplets upon the spread. The muscles in his thighs were like steel as he released stream after stream of hot jizz. Brian caught hold of his dick, his fingers instantly wet, and finished jerking him off. He held the teen on his lap until the tremors stopped.

On his knees, his chest flat against the bed, ass in the air, he moaned as Brian lurched wildly against him, having surrendered to the need to come. Hammering Justin hard and fast, Brian shuddered and climaxed. Hissing through his teeth, he humped Justin, unwilling to part from him until he was released from his orgasm. He leaned over, still buried in the teen, and kissed his neck, his back, his shoulders. "I love you."

"You want some more champagne?" he asked and Brian shook his head. Didn't matter, the bottle was almost empty, especially since some of it had ended up on the spread. Luckily not enough to soak through and wet the sheets. They threw back the spread and resolved to leave special instructions for it to be washed everyday. A little restless still, they padded out onto the balcony and enjoyed the view: the moonlight on the ocean, starry sky above. Justin reclined between Brian's legs on the chaise lounge, leaning back against his belly, feeling indecent in Brian's lounging pants. He'd slipped them on before coming out and the silk caressed his skin every bit as amorously as Brian had. Brian wore the robe, tied carelessly at the waist, most of his body exposed by the flirtatious garment.

"Did you ever learn about the constellations?" Justin asked.

"I'm an advertiser, not an astronomer." He added, "If you want to know about the stars, call that crazy guy on PBS; you want to market the stars, I'm your man."

"You think that guy is gay?"

Brian thought about it. "Nah. He's kind of like Mr. Rogers. Sexless."

Justin grimaced. "I do not want to think about Mr. Rogers having sex."

"Look, boys and girls, today we're going to learn about intercourse." Justin giggled. "Can you say intercourse?"

"I can say fucking," answered the teen.

"You get an A+"

"That's what you said to me, that night in the jeep, when Gus was born. You said, 'You get an A+,' " Justin reminded him. "Don't you remember?"

Brian admitted, "The ride home is a little fuzzy." Then, as if he suddenly thought about it for the first time, he asked, "Why'd you go back with me anyway? I was totally fucked. I could have been some kind of lunatic."

"You weren't."

"But you didn't know that."

"I'd just seen you with your kid. And I guess I figured Lindsay wouldn't have had a kid with someone who'd hurt me."

"But you didn't know any of us." He stroked Justin's shoulder absent-mindedly. "And sometimes people are different... when they take drugs."

"I don't know why," Justin confessed. "I guess I wanted you really, really bad."

Brian smiled smugly. "A lot of guys do."

Justin turned and faced him. "Well, they're out of luck, because you're mine." He kissed Brian playfully and pulled back but the sight of his lover's sensual mouth drew him in for another, more serious kiss. "I love you," he whispered.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Brian closed his eyes and smiled, content to belong to someone once more.

"We're here! We've had the best day and all we've done so far is hang out on the beach, take pictures, eat, and well, you know. Brian's like this entirely different person. Maybe not entirely different, but different. He's so relaxed, and fun, and I don't know, happy, I guess. Maybe it's because it's so great here or maybe it's because we're away from Pittsburgh. I wonder if we moved someplace else would he change and stay like this all the time? Listen to me. One trip and I'm already saying 'we'. I hope I don't start acting like Michael did when he and David got back from Paris. Nah, Brian wouldn't let me. He's out looking at the ocean from our balcony. We just made love for like an hour; it was totally intense. I can't believe how it keeps getting better. I wonder--Never mind. Brian's coming back in. I can't believe how hot I feel--not like the heat--but erotically. I think it's these pants. Maybe I can get him to fool around a little before we go to sleep. It's worth a try. "

Waking up before Justin, Brian hit the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and ordered breakfast. By the time it arrived Justin was sure to have awakened. He always seemed to know when Brian had left the bed. Even if he was in a dead sleep, a few minutes after Brian got up Justin would awaken, blindly feeling for him. Sure enough, he had just gotten off the phone with Marcus when he heard Justin stirring and then a sleepy, "Hey."

"Breakfast is coming." Justin got up to stumble to the bathroom. "Run some water in the tub while you're in there," he said.

" 'kay." He peed, brushed his teeth, and turned on the water. Sat on the toilet seat top as the tub filled. He smiled thinking of the fun they'd have in here. Remembering their hotel escapade, his face burned. Brian had--There was the door. He grabbed one of the hotel bathrobes and went out just in time to see Brian--wearing his sheer, black robe--answer the door. The heat in his cheeks increased fivefold. Not only was he embarrassed but Marcus, who was almost as fair, turned bright red. You could see everything through that robe. Adding to that was the fact that Brian had hastily knotted it about his waist, so that his chest was pretty well exposed to scrutiny as was most of his thighs. Not that it mattered. The sheer fabric offered an unobstructed view of his entire body. But did Brian notice either of their reactions? No. He was busy hunting among the fruit for strawberries to stain his red lips an even darker shade of vermilion. As casually as possible, Justin took the other tray from Marcus and tried to interpose his body between the butler's eyes and Brian's naked ass. "Thanks," he said, releasing the poor man to flee. As soon as he had gone, Justin turned to scold his careless lover. "Brian...!"

He looked up with a piece of mango between his fingers. "What?"

"Why didn't you put on your robe?"

Brian looked down. "I'm wearing my robe."

"Your other robe. The one that isn't invisible to the naked eye," he clarified, exasperated by Brian's total lack of self-consciousness.

Carrying the tray back to the bathroom, Brian replied, "So he's seen my dick. Big deal."

Justin followed with the other tray. "Yeah, him and half the civilized world," he mumbled.

Smirking, Brian corrected him. "Two thirds."

They had a leisurely soak in the tub, taking their time eating breakfast and fooling around, nothing serious as they intended to get an early start on the day and go snorkeling out on the reef. Although you really didn't have to know how to swim to snorkel, Justin thought he'd ask and Brian looked at him like he'd just asked the world's stupidest question. "We didn't have a swimming pool but we did learn to swim," he replied, clearly indicating what he thought of Justin and his upper middle class upbringing.

"Don't hate," the teen teased and Brian splashed him. Which meant he had to splash Brian and that led to a few silly minutes of pseudo-wrestling in which Brian ended up on his back, head barely above water, promising to grant Justin whatever he wanted. The teen kissed him lightly and said, "I'll think about it."

Only a few people waited at the dock for the boat that would take them out to reef where the snorkeling was, "...absolutely amazing," promised their captain. Justin studied the flash cards provided by the hotel of the different species of fish they might encounter in the reef.

Once they reached the spot, they applied anti-fog gel to the insides of their masks and then washed them in the water to keep them from fogging up; made sure the silicon skirt was snug on their faces; attached the snorkel to the masks; and put on their fins. Slipping over the edge, down into the water, they waited until they had floated far enough from the boat, and then began kicking away from it, heading towards the reef.

Their captain hadn't lied. Dropping down just half-a-foot, they encountered a world rich in infinite variety and wonder. Bright colors flashed and swirled around them as the fish sought out sustenance and investigated these latest interlopers. Justin tried to catch the fish with his hands while Brian shook his head in dismay and attempted to capture the precious moments on film for posterity. Kids.

At one point, they had gone around a bit of the reef out of sight of the other snorkelers and Justin tried to pull Brian's swimsuit down. Kicking rapidly--but not hard enough to injure Justin if their bodies connected--Brian escaped, one hand on the waistband of his briefs.

They surfaced and cleared their snorkels of water, Justin laughing. "I thought you didn't mind flashing your cock to the world?"

"Those fish looked hungry," Brian replied. The image of Brian flopping around with a parrotfish dangling from the end of his cock cracked them up. "And how would I fuck you with only half a dick?"

They lost count of the kinds and number of fish they spotted during the morning. Several times they re-surfaced and consulted the flip-chart to verify a sighting. The most plentiful fish seemed to be the Yellow Goatfish, the Bicolor Damselfish, and the Sergeant Major. The Yellowtail Snapper were unafraid and would approach them as they explored the reef. Brian's favorites by far were the Fairy Basslets, "Out and proud," he proclaimed, and the Yellowhead Wrasse, "The drag queens of the reef." Justin liked the Blue Tang, the Bluehead, and the Indigo Hamlet. "You just like blue fish," accused Brian.

"I like the Spotfin Hogfish," which were red and yellow fish, Justin replied. "I just haven't seen any." They were bobbling in the water trying to decide if they'd take this boat back or the one in another half hour when Justin spotted a hint of red. "Spotfin!" he exclaimed.

"No way," Brian replied and they were off.

An hour later, exhausted and starving, they regretfully climbed aboard the boat and headed back to shore. If half their pictures came out, they'd have some great shots. Turning in their gear and thanking the captain for a great morning, they dragged themselves to their room, showered, changed, and ventured down to the resort's Asian restaurant where they had teriyaki--Justin couldn't stomach the idea of eating fish after spending the morning swimming among them.

After lunch they lay out on the beach for an hour, Brian with his eyes closed trying to catch twenty winks and Justin wide awake watching the parasailors.


Brian didn't even have to ask about what. "Justin..."

"I didn't say anything when you wanted to go scuba diving," conveniently forgetting he'd wanted to go too, "and that's way more dangerous than parasailing."

"Says who?"

"Says the fact that you have to take a course to go scuba diving and you don't to go parasailing."

That was a good point but Brian was the master at putting a negative spin on good points. "The people who go parasailing couldn't pass a test."

Justin returned to basic begging. "Say yes."


"You can come with me and make sure it's safe," he offered, quite reasonably he thought.

"No, thank you."

"I'm going diving with you."

"You don't have to."

"Good. You go diving, I'll go parasailing."

"Don't even think about it, little boy."

"I'm not a little boy, I'm a man," but he felt completely foolish having to say it out loud.

Brian threatened, "I can still turn you over my knees."

Justin shivered thinking about the last time, then remembered something. "You promised this morning that you would do anything I said," he said and he watched Brian's face freeze. He'd forgotten.

"That wasn't fair. You tickled me."

"Still, a promise is a promise." He played his trump card. "You gave your word."

Brian glared at him, then relented. "Fine." Not exactly the most gracious concession speech ever but it'd do.

"I can go?"

"You can go."

"You'll come with me?" As Brian hesitated, Justin pleaded with him. "Come on. It's only an hour. Maybe less."

"I'll come and watch. Personally, I don't want my ass up in the air--unless I'm getting fucked, and I don't mean fucked up, which is what you're going to be if something goes wrong."

Justin leaned over and kissed Brian playfully. "Thank you."

Stealing another kiss, Brian replied, "Tonight."

A couple had turned and watched them as they kissed. Suddenly a little self-conscious, Justin drew away. "Have you seen any other gay couples around?"

"I didn't expect it to be Liberty Avenue by the sea."

He glanced around at all of the straight couples around them, some of them almost on top of each other and he and Brian got looks just by kissing on the beach. Suddenly angry, he turned to the ocean, hoping no one noticed. But Brian did.

Reaching over, he laid his hand upon Justin's neck and caressed it. The teen looked at him and waited. Brian said ruefully, "The world's not fair, Justin. But you couldn't have expected it to be."

"No," he said softly.

Making up his mind in a flash, Brian stood and pulled Justin to his feet. Kissed him soundly in view of everyone in their area, then lifted him in his arms and carried him, both of them laughing, to one of the resort's seven pools.

Noting the "No Horseplay" sign, Brian set Justin down on the tiled deck and they slipped into the pool like a pair of seals. After swimming a couple of laps, they found a ledge and rested, giggling as they recalled the scandalized faces of the couples around them on the beach. Moving closer together, they kissed, heedless of potential spectators. When they parted, they noticed a woman looking at them, not with any hostility, just curiosity. She seemed to be Brian's age or maybe a little older and had a drink in her hand from the swim-up bar.

"How long have you been an item?" she asked.

Brian turned to Justin. He was better at that sort of thing. "A little over two months."

"The way you are together... seems like longer," she commented.

"We met last September."

"What were you waiting for?"

Justin grinned. "He wasn't sure," he replied and Brian looked chagrined. He hated being talked about as if he weren't there.

"About what?"

"Anything," he answered, extremely amused by the woman.

She moved closer along the wall. "I'm Nya. My husband's... somewhere doing something... aquatic and highly risky."

"Justin." He waited then indicated his silent lover. "Brian."

Nya smiled. "You make a good couple. Everybody noticed you yesterday when you came down to the beach." She laughed and added, "It's just that--you're both so beautiful."

At that Brian spoke up. "Are you trying to proposition us?"

"If I were, would you accept?" she asked point-blank.

"What about your husband?"

"Fuck him," she replied.

"Is he as good-looking as you are?" inquired Brian and she cackled.

"You're bad."

Justin slipped his arm around Brian's waist. "You have no idea."

Nya glanced up and waved at a cute guy in red trunks across the way. "That's my husband. Guess he's done playing." She got out of the pool. "Maybe I'll see you bad boys later. Bye." And she bopped off with her drink in hand, pulling her bikini down in the back as she went.

Brian laughed and shook his head.

"Would you really consider doing it with them?" Justin asked.

"Might be fun. Her husband was kind of hot." Justin looked properly shocked. "But only if you wanted to."

He thought about it, then said, "I don't want to share you with anybody. Okay?" Brian shrugged. Not wanting to bring it up but feeling it seethe inside his head and heart so that he felt he would go crazy if he didn't, Justin started to ask, "Brian?"


And he paused. It was so perfect here: the sunshine, the beaches, the ocean... and they were having such a great time. He swallowed the question. "Never mind."

"You sure?"

"When's the diving course start?"

First they filled out the two-page medical history questionnaire. Could you be pregnant or attempting to become pregnant? Do you smoke a pack or more of cigarettes daily? Have you ever had or currently have: Asthma, or wheezing with breathing or exercise? Frequent or severe attacks of hay fever or allergy? Epilepsy, seizures, convulsions or take medications to prevent them? History of diving accidents or decompression sickness? History of back surgery? History of any heart disease? Behavioral health problems? Do you suffer from drug or alcohol problems? etc.

After they had satisfied the basic swimming requirement by doing two hundred yards nonstop, they went over the equipment, safety procedures, and dive procedures with the instructor until he was satisfied with their basic knowledge. They even watched a video about scuba diving. When that was over, he took them out into the diving pool and began at the shallow end, going over the basic procedures, getting them used to operating the equipment, practicing the safety procedures, and gradually taking them deeper and deeper until they were diving in twenty feet of water. At the end of the hour and a half course, the instructor issued them a resort certification which was good for one thirty foot descent per day and they immediately signed up for a spot on a dive coming up a few days later.

Practically running down to the docks, Justin secured them a berth on the wenchboat that took hotel guests parasailing. They'd have to wait an hour though which was fine with Brian. Despite having agreed to it, he still had his doubts about the whole thing. "What if the line snaps? You'd float off."

"I'll be wearing a chute. I'd just float back down."

Brian gave up. "Okay. Fine."

"Nothing's going to happen to me," Justin assured him.

"It'd better not. Cause after your mom kicked my ass, she'd come for yours. And after she got through with you, it'd be my turn."

"I'm more worried about what she'd do than what you'd do."

Licking his lips, Brian said, "That's because you know how much I love your ass."

"I'm hoping you'll show me how much tonight."

"It's a date."

"I thought you didn't do dates," said Justin, smirking.

"Didn't do boyfriends either and look what I'm stuck with."

Justin pinched him. "The best."

An hour later, Brian watched as Justin put on a life preserver and was then strapped into the harness that would be attached to the parasail. He climbed the steps to the launch platform and a crewman snapped his harness to the chute. On the mate's signal, the captain slowly yet steadily accelerated the boat. Heart in his throat, Brian gazed in equal parts apprehension and admiration as Justin rose gently into the air, a smile spreading across his face.

He couldn't believe it, he was actually floating in midair! It was amazing. The water looked incredible from this height and he had about another hundred feet to go. Brian looked like he wanted to either join him or make him come back down. He wished he could have convinced him to do it too. The freedom... It was like being released from everything that held you down: worries about his relationship with his dad, his relationship with his mom, his relationship with Brian, going to art school... All of it was blown away by the wind that buffeted his face. Everything looked so beautiful from up here. You couldn't even tell that some of those people were bigoted and mean-spirited, that they hated their spouses, hated their children, hated their jobs... from here they were just part of the fantastic scenery.

Justin looked so happy Brian couldn't begrudge him the experience. He smiled and waved at him as he floated above them, carried along by the motion of the boat and the air currents, happy as a six-year-old in a mud puddle. Then laughed as Justin mouthed something to him. A man, waiting his turn, asked, "So where are the women? Out shopping?"

Brian turned. "There are no women. He's with me."

And the guy's forehead wrinkled. "Oh." He grinned. "That's cool too."

Thank God for happy drunks, though Brian because he could smell the beer on his breath.

From up above Justin waved again and signaled to the crewman to begin lowering him. It was time to go back to his man.

For about the hundredth time Justin kissed him and thanked him for letting him go up and for the hundredth time he let him cause he loved kissing his little boy. "What are we going to do about dinner?" he asked, Justin seated on his lap as they lounged on the balcony.

Justin kissed him for the one hundred and first time. "I don't care." One hundred and second.

Growling deep in his throat, Brian rose from the lounge, threw Justin over his shoulder, and headed for the bedroom. "Dinner can wait."

An hour and a half later they were dressed for dinner at the resort's Italian restaurant. So far Brian had declared both the French and the Asian restaurant to be passably good which was high praise indeed coming from him.

The maitre d' seated them and within moments their waiter had arrived with menus. Brian asked him to suggest a wine, which he did, and he ordered a bottle. The cabernet arrived and they drank a toast to one another while waiting for their appetizers. Which were followed by a soup course and a salad course. The main courses of sea scallops and pan-seared chicken breast were served an hour after they sat down and they took their time eating, savoring each bite and discussing their plans to go into Nassau tomorrow for some serious sightseeing. "I promise not to kill anyone," Brian swore, his hands beneath the table.

But Justin wasn't fooled. "Hands where I can see them and swear that again."

"Okay, okay, I won't kill more than one. An hour."

Laughing, Justin said, "Now that I can believe."

Entres consumed, Justin turned to the dessert menu, and coaxed Brian into having the tiramisu too since he'd known that's what he was going to have the moment he saw it listed. Lingering over dessert and coffee, the two men fell quiet. It was strange, in Pittsburgh silences like this usually meant they'd been arguing, but here it just felt natural, it meant that they had achieved a kind of silent rapport that required no words. Words would not have been enough.

After dinner they rolled up their pants and kicked off their shoes, walked barefoot through the surf. Finding a spot, they sat on the beach and waited for the sun to set. Although it set to the west and out of their direct line of sight, they could still observe the changes in the sky and water. Brian felt Justin reach for his hand and then lean against him. He looked down and, to him, the teen had never looked more inviting. Lowering his head, he kissed him. Justin returned the kiss with equal intensity and they soon found themselves lying in the sand, hearts racing for the second time that evening. By the time they recovered their senses enough to call a halt to their activities, they'd both begun to stiffen.

Back in the room, he slipped a flavored condom over Brian's cock and sucked him off, the older man lying helpless on the sofa, his trousers open and pushed down around his thighs, Justin on his knees before him. Throwing his head back, he cried in a breathless voice, "Justin! Justin... Oh God.. Justin... Oh! Oh God..." Lights exploding behind his lids, the seat cushions gripped in his fingers, he came, his lover's lips tight around his shaft.

Standing, Justin grabbed his dick and jerked off onto Brian's bare chest, his juice running down his lover's skin to rest in his damp, dark pubic hair. With weakened arms, Brian pulled him close and laid his head against his belly, Justin's moist cock brushing against his cheek and leaving a trail of cum.

The next morning Justin ordered breakfast and met Marcus at the door, not wanting to subject the poor man to another early morning viewing of Brian's naked body.

They took breakfast on the balcony and fed each other bits of fruit, Brian pretending to be disgusted by how sweet they had become. "Pretty soon we'll be calling each other 'Dear.' "

"And 'Sweetheart,' " added Justin.

"Just as long as it's not 'Babe.' I hate that."

Justin began to sing, "They say we're young and we don't know/ Won't find out until we grow."

"Shut. Up."

Snickering, Justin took a bite of his croissant. Chewed and waited until Brian's attention was distracted by something below them. Whispered while giggling, "Babe. I got you babe. I got you babe..."

Without shifting his eyes, Brian promised, "You're going to pay," which made Justin giggle even harder.

Catching an early bus into Nassau, along West Bay Street known as the "Go Slow Bend", they got off at Heritage Village and walked up Chippingham Road to Fort Charlotte. There they climbed the steps to the Guard House where a guide in a red and gold vest waited to lead a group of people on a tour. Having nothing better to do, the two men joined them. The tour guide took them up to the top of the Guard House, across the drawbridge to the observation deck, and inside the fort through the tunnels and into the dungeons, explaining that the fort, named for King George III's wife, had been built in 1788 to protect the city, but that none of its forty-two canons had ever been fired. When the man mentioned that the fort was supposed to have protected the city from the last remnants of pirates to roam the Caribbean, Brian whispered, "Does he mean butt pirates?" and Justin laughed so hard the other members of the tour group gave them dirty looks and they broke away from the crowd to explore on their own. By the time they left an hour later, they had seen the moats and all forty-two of the canons and kissed in the dungeons and taken pictures from the observation deck.

Next on their itinerary was the Ardastra Gardens and Zoo. Although it was a small zoo compared to the Pittsburgh Zoo and Aquarium, with only 300 animals, it was still quite beautiful. They strolled through the gardens and saw parrots and macaw sand cockatoos, peacocks, capuchins and other monkeys, turtles, an ocelot, meerkats, Lulabelle the Vietnamese pot-bellied pig, a two-toed sloth, coatimundi, and a Bahamian boa. Finding a bench in a secluded spot, the sounds of nature around them providing a romantic soundtrack, they made out like a pair of lovers on a secret rendezvous. Emerging a little before eleven they watched the Caribbean flamingo perform, marching under the command of a human drill sergeant who ordered them to parade, muster, and about face at which the birds lined up, advanced, and wheeled about in unison. After the parade was over, they walked back down Chippingham Road to West Bay Street and caught a cab downtown to Rawson Square.

The square was a small tree-shaded park where dozens of surrey drivers waited to take visitors on historical tours of the city. Justin wanted to take a surrey ride and Brian just wanted to find someplace to sit down and have a drink in preparation for the afternoon's shopping expedition. When the driver assured them that it wouldn't take more than twenty to thirty minutes, he gave in and climbed into the surrey grumbling about starvation and its effect on his sex drive. Ignoring him, Justin paid the driver and settled in for an enjoyable and educational ride. They crossed Bay Street on a mosaic walkway and came to Parliament Square, the seat of Bahamian government, instantly recognizable by its beautiful pink buildings. In the middle of the square was a statue of a young Queen Victoria and around her were the Parliament buildings, the old Colonial Secretary's Office, and the Supreme Court. On the buildings were eleven coats of arms from some of the country's 700 islands. Behind the buildings and further up Parliament Street was the Garden of Remembrance which featured the Cenotaph, a tall concrete monument commemorating the Bahamian veterans of World War I and II. On the southwest corner of the square was the Nassau Public Library, an octagonal building with a dome which used to be a jail but was now a public library and museum.

Continuing up Parliament Street, the surrey turned on East Hill Street and continued until it came to the Government House which was situated on a rise overlooking the city. The driver took them all around the house with its statue of Christopher Columbus in front of the main entrance and explained that it was the official residence of the Governor General, the Queen of Great Britain's personal representative to the Bahamas. After circling the Government House, the driver took them up Market Street past the Balcony House, a colonial residence built around 1790 and constructed of American soft cedar; and pointed out the Pirates of Nassau Museum which had wax figures of famous pirates; and the Pompey Museum which was dedicated to the history of Africans in the Bahamas and was housed in the old Vendue House, the site of the old slave market.

Turning onto Bay Street, he drove them past the Straw Market and made them promise to go down and walk along the Woodes Roger Walk with its mosaic promenade, and to go see the Junkanoo Expo Museum. Brian groaned, seeing an even longer day stretching out before him tomorrow. As they dismounted from the surrey, Justin gave the driver a generous tip, thanking him for the great tour and even Brian had to admit that it was more fun than he had anticipated. Figuring he deserved to be rewarded for his patience and diligence, he asked, "Now can we eat?" and Justin assented. Brian had originally wanted to go eat at this Chinese restaurant Henry had told them about called East Villa. He said that the cooks had been imported from China and that the food was excellent but it was too far away to walk and Justin really wanted some authentic Bahamian cuisine so they settled for Chippee's Wall Street Cafe, a second-floor restaurant with internet access. They'd been afraid that they wouldn't be able to be seated since the place was extremely popular with tourists but they must have come at just the right time because they were able to secure a table in just a few minutes.

Despite Justin's urgings, Brian had a rather sedate lunch of grilled shrimp and a lobster salad. Feeling adventurous, the teenager had conch salad and fried grouper. While Brian consumed his lunch Justin kept up a running commentary on how good the conch was and tried to tempt Brian to taste the grouper at every opportunity. Which he refused.

"Did you bring the list?" he asked and Justin checked his bag. Nodded. They had made a list of all of the people they needed to buy gifts for and it seemed to stretch on forever.

"You gonna email Michael while you're here?"

Brian hadn't talked to Michael since they'd arrived. Justin hadn't asked him not to but Brian sensed that Justin felt threatened by Michael and he hadn't made any attempt to contact him. So now that Justin had brought it up, he shrugged.

"You should. I bet he's going crazy not hearing from you."


Justin craned his neck. "The terminals are over there." He paused. "I'm ordering dessert so there's time."

"Okay!" Brian replied, a little peeved that the teen seemed bent on directing his every move. "I'm going." He got up and went over to the terminals, inserted his credit card and accessed his Pittserv email account. There were about ten emails from some guys he'd met online which he ignored and one from LeCaptainAstro@Pittserv.com.

FROM: LeCaptainAstro@Pittserv.com
TO: BrianK@Pittserv.com
RE: Bahamas Trip


So I guess the trip must be going pretty well since you haven't emailed me to complain about the Boy Wonder. Just remember to drink your protein shakes and take your Viagra like a good sugerdaddy. Seriously, I hope you're having a great time, you deserve it. Talk to you when you get back, although an email or a phone call wouldn't hurt.


Brian re-read the message and composed a reply.

FROM: BrianK@Pittserv.com
TO: LeCaptainAstro@Pittserv.com
RE: Bahamas Trip


I'll have you know they distill Viagra from my pheromones which is how I can afford my fabulous lifestyle. The Boy Wonder and I are having a great time which is why I haven't emailed or called. Plus, the hotel doesn't supply laptops, just the access. I'm actually in a restaurant using their terminal. If you don't hear from me again, I'll see you when I get back. And don't forget you have to pick us up at the airport.


When he returned to the table, Justin was scarfing down a bowl of ice cream. "So?"

Brian dipped a finger in the scoop. "So what?"

"Had Michael emailed you?"

"You're awfully nosey."

"It's called conversation."

"It's called snooping."

Justin ate the last spoonful of his ice cream. "You just don't want to tell me."

"Of course he had emailed me. We are talking about Michael, the gay man's answer to Oprah."

"You write back?"

"No, I left him hanging--of course I wrote him back. What the fuck is this? Twenty questions?"

"You're getting angry."

"Yeah, I am. Because this is stupid."

"Why can't I ask you anything about Michael?"

"Don't. Don't turn this into a conversation about Michael."

"It already was."

"What do you think we do? Write each other love notes behind your back? You think we're having a long distance love affair while you and I are here," and he leaned in, "fucking our brains out?"


"Then what?"

"I don't know."

"Why do you feel threatened by him?"

"Because he was there first!" Justin blurted out. A couple of people at nearby tables froze momentarily, on guard against a possible altercation, and when they saw that the outburst was over they returned to their meals and conversations.

Patiently Brian explained, "Michael's my best friend. He's always gonna be my best friend, no matter what. Even when we weren't talking, he was still my best friend."

"What about me?"

"You're... my lover. And my partner in life, if you want to be."

"And your friend..." Justin shyly advanced.

"Yeah, that too."

"But not your best friend," Justin admitted, a sad tone in his voice.

And Brian said in a whisper, "Having Michael as a best friend... means I get to have you as everything else." He reached across the table, ignoring the few curiosity seekers, and held Justin's hand. "Okay?" Justin nodded, too emotional to reply. "Then let's go shopping and spend some of that prize money."

Starting at the Straw Market, the two men spent the better part of an hour amazed by all the things a person could make out of straw: handbags, hats, place mats, dolls, toys, necklaces and earrings even, model airplanes and replicas of famous buildings, anything you could think of, someone had done in with straw. Haggling with the vendors more for the sake of having fun than anything else, they left the area with a doll for Molly, a mobile for Gus, a parrot for Vic, a tiny Eiffel Tower for Michael, and a handbag and matching hat for Daphne. In one of the non-straw stalls, they picked up a wood carving for Ted: a man in the shape of a phallus. "He can add it to his dildo collection," Brian teased.

After stopping at a dozen booths, they finally managed to find the perfect tee-shirt for Deb: A picture of the Venus de Milo with coconuts over her breasts and a banana skirt standing over the caption, "Bahama Mama." "Better get her three or four," Justin suggested. "They don't look like they're going to last very long."

They even found a gift for Mel: a pen holder made from two brass-colored painted coconuts. Justin giggled imagining Melanie's reaction to being presented with a pair of brass balls. "To match her own," quipped Brian.

Taking a break, they walked along the Woodes Roger Walk and gazed out at the cruise ships dotting the harbor. Along the fence, vendors had set up tables and it was at one of these tables that they purchased a brightly colored shirt for Emmett. "You think it's bright enough?" joked Justin.

"I don't know," Brian replied, "my retinas have been burned out by the sight of it."

Heading back to Bay Street, Brian stopped in the Burns House and bought a couple of bottles of Glenfiddich for Ryder, "It's his favorite brand of scotch," as well as a few bottles of assorted liquors for his own cabinet--all at a thirty percent discount. He also got Cynthia a pearl stick pin at the Duty Free Jewelry Mart. "For the guys down in the mailroom," he explained. "They're always grabbing for her ass."

"Like you're always grabbing mine?"

Now the only ones left were Lindz and their parents. Making a stop in Leather Masters ("Not that kind of leather master," explained Justin.), the teen found a beautifully embossed leather address book. "I'm gonna get this for my dad and put Deb's address and phone number in it and yours too. Maybe he'll get the hint." He frowned. "Although I get the feeling he's got your number already."

Brian groaned. "That hurt."

Knowing how much his mother liked Gucci, Justin browsed one of the three Little Switzerland stores on Bay Street until his eyes alit upon a stainless steel watch he knew his mother would love. Spending a substantial amount of his prize money, he bought it.

That left Lindz and Joanie.

Only Brian already knew what he was going to get for Joanie. Making his way to the china and crystal section, he found it: a decanter made of Irish crystal. As he paid for it he explained to Justin how his mother used to have one, given to her by his grandmother, but one of the relatives' kids had knocked it over and broken it.

"That's really sweet of you," Justin said, amazed once again at Brian's sensitivity and kindness. Especially towards his mom when things still weren't great between them.

"Well," he replied, "she's trying."

Now they were down to one: Lindz. But it was close to five and the shops were preparing to close for the day and they were exhausted. And loaded down with bags and boxes. They both agreed her gift could wait until tomorrow.

Not bothering to wait for the hotel shuttle, Justin sprung for a cab. Only, just as they were passing through the Fish Fry district along Cable Beach, he had the driver stop at this brightly colored shack and he hopped out and bought two orders of conch fritters.

Declining Colin's offer to help them with their bags, they lugged all of their loot upstairs and dropped everything on the sofa. Carrying his container of fritters to the bedroom, Justin plopped down on the bed and watched as Brian rummaged through his clothes.

"You want some fritters?"


"They're good."

"No, thanks," replied Brian and Justin could hear the skepticism in his voice. "You're going to ruin your appetite."

It had never happened before. "No, I won't."

Brian conceded the point, "You're probably right." Nothing seemed to affect Justin's appetite. Even when he was upset, he could eat.

"Where are you going?"

"To soak in the whirlpool for half an hour," he replied, grabbing his swimsuit and heading for the bathroom. Taking a piss, he undressed, slipped on his swimming briefs, and carried his clothes back to the bedroom. He dropped them where he stood.

Justin was lying on his stomach, naked, eating conch fritters; and in the middle of his back, at the top of his ass just before his bubble butt began to rise, was a piece of fritter. He cocked his head and looked over at his dumbstruck lover. "Want some?"

Lids falling lazily over his eyes, Brian found his voice. "I'll try anything once." He dropped off his briefs and climbed onto the bed, straddled Justin's legs, lowered his head, and ate the fritter right off of its fleshy plate. Justin giggled as it tickled a little but remained supine while Brian finished the tidbit.

"How was it?"

Brian licked the crumbs from where they had fallen into the crevice between his cheeks, tasting the oil and salt and spices--and Justin's sweat. "Delicious."

"Want some more?"

Biting Justin's ass gently, Brian replied, "Yes, please."

Getting up the next morning was a little difficult as they had spent the majority of the night making love, pausing only to order dinner: conch salad and more conch fritters, and later to have dessert sent up: an entire chocolate mousse cake that was just the right consistency to spread over broad chests, erect nipples, flat bellies, slender thighs, plump buttocks, hard cocks, and round balls. By the time they had finished eating, the cake had been demolished, the bedspread wrecked, and their bodies exhausted. They had fallen asleep sometime around two a.m. and foolishly planned to get up in five hours. Luckily they had instructed Marcus to call them at seven sharp and to deliver breakfast thirty minutes later, so at seven thirty-two they were sitting on the balcony eating banana nut muffins and drinking extra strong coffee.

Their gifts lay just where they'd dropped them the night before. They'd bought an extra suitcase, empty, just to hold all their booty and it'd be just about full once they packed all of the presents away, with a little room left over for the things they wanted to get for themselves. So far Justin hadn't purchased anything for himself and Brian had only gotten those few bottles of liquor. There was still plenty of time as they only had to get Lindsay a gift today and they had all afternoon to browse around. Brian had already spotted a couple of items he thought would look perfect on his little boy. Who didn't seem so little anymore or so much of a boy. Glancing over at him, he admitted to himself that Justin was becoming more of a young man each day; despite the temper tantrums--his Teenage Drama Princess moments they called them--and the outbursts of giggles, he was turning into a partner and not just a lover, a bedmate. Brian had always relied on him, whether he admitted it or not, but now he felt confident doing so. Whereas before it always had an air of desperation about it, now it just felt natural. The teen turned, aware of his scrutiny, and smiled in the early morning sunlight. Brian could tell he wanted to ask him what he was thinking about but didn't, knowing how crazy that made him sometimes. So he said, "I was just thinking how I'm going to have to start calling you something other than my little boy."

As always, just hearing him say that started his body to thinking. "That's okay. I like it."

Brian's lips curled. He leaned forward. "Does it get you all excited when I call you my little boy?"

Already his pulse had begun to race. "Yes."

"My hot little boy."

Justin rose and met Brian at the archway to the livingroom. They kissed, leaning against the side of the doorframe, and Brian whispered in his ear, "I love you, little boy."

"Show me."

"What about getting an early start?" he asked as they stumbled to the bedroom, the couch unavailable, covered in bags and boxes.

And Justin held his hand and sucked on his finger, let it slide from his mouth as he spoke. "We are."

Good sense had prevailed and after a quick one they showered and dressed and ran to where the shuttle was waiting. They'd missed the very first one but were able to make the nine o'clock shuttle, which was fine as they would have time in the afternoon as well to do some sightseeing in light of how well they had done the day before with finding gifts.

First up on their sightseeing junket today was the Queen's Staircase. Getting off in Rawson Square, noticing the statue of the Bahamian mother and child for the first time, they walked southeast until they came to the foot of the Queen's Staircase. The staircase, as Justin read to Brian from the guidebook he had purchased yesterday, had been carved out of the stone by slaves. Local folklore said that each of the steps represented a year in Queen Victoria's reign but actually the steps were valuable because they had allowed troops to reach Fort Fincastle from town without being exposed to enemy fire. The fort, built in the shape of a ship's bow, was at the top of the steps on Bennet's Hill. Next to it was the Water Tower, the highest point in Nassau. They climbed the long winding staircase--forsaking the small, rickety elevator--to the top of the tower and found another unofficial tour guide waiting for visitors. He pointed out the different parts of the city visible from the tower. The view was spectacular. To the north they could see the cruise ships docked at Prince George's Wharf; to the west, Cable Beach; to the east, Paradise Island; and to the south, the rest of Nassau itself. Justin asked him all kinds of questions about local history and the man answered his questions with confidence--if not complete historical accuracy--and charm. When they finally left Justin gave him a generous tip and thanked him for the information.

Descending the stairs once more, they made their way back down to Bay Street, stopping to get a closer look at the buildings on and around Parliament Square first, and over to the Pirates of Nassau Museum. Justin loved the wax models of the ferocious Edward Teach known as Blackbeard with his red-ribboned beard, Henry Morgan, Roger Vane, Captain Kidd, William Catt, and the beautiful but nefarious Anne Bonney. The half hour tour, led by a guide in 18th century costume, took them through darkened halls and dungeons recreated from the Age of Piracy and through a reproduction of the wharf as it had been in those days, with pirate ships berthed at the docks. Brian joked that it looked like the Pirates of the Caribbean at Disney World and Justin asked him if he'd ever been on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride to which he replied, "Of course." When Justin gave him a look that begged for additional details, he supplied them. "I was down in Orlando for a marketing workshop and took a side trip to Disney World. I'd never been so I figured, what the hell. Met this guy..."

"Of course," interjected Justin.

"He worked there. Always had a thing about making out on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride."

"One ride wasn't enough."

"Exactly." Brian lifted his eyebrows. "So we did it. On the ride. Kinda bumpy and I got a little seasick but not bad."

Shaking his head, Justin commented, "The life you lead..."

"Led. Past tense," Brian reminded him and the boy's face lit up and they rejoined the tour.

Justin made Brian buy Gus a pirate hat but not the sword as he figured Lindsay and Mel wouldn't like the idea of advocating violence. "Except against me," Brian said of Mel.

From the Pirate museum they strolled down the street to the Pompey Museum. As they walked through the halls of the house and looked at the exhibits documenting the lives of Africans in the Bahamas: the years of slavery followed by independence and poverty and finally the emergence of the modern nation, Justin grew quiet. Brian put his arm around his shoulders and just held him. Justin said quietly, "Why do people...?" He couldn't finish his sentence.

"I don't know," Brian replied, knowing that Justin was thinking about Chris Hobbs. "I guess it really is human nature." Violence, domination, subjugation, hatred, and pain.

"Not mine," Justin disagreed.

And Brian agreed. Bussed him on the cheek. "No, not yours."


"What?" Brian prodded. Justin hadn't wanted to talk much about Chris Hobbs, not even after Chris plead innocent at the preliminary hearing and he knew the teen wasn't looking forward to the trial.

As if he were ashamed of his feelings, Justin said softly, "I wanted... I don't know."

Brian embraced him. "I know. Me too." Truthfully, he suspected that his thoughts and feelings about the accused were a lot less charitable than Justin's. When he'd struck Chris in the parking garage, it had taken all of his willpower--plus his frantic concern for Justin--not to hit him again, to hurt him the way he had hurt Justin. Unfortunately for Chris, their encounter at the hospital had only increased Brian's hostility towards him, something he fought to conceal from Justin. But the fear he'd felt when he saw Justin fall, it was a feeling he never wanted to experience again, and it had all been the fault of Chris Hobbs. Sniffling, Justin looked up into his face and attempted a half-assed smile. Brian kissed him and tugged on his neck. "Come on, let's finish this and go down to the Junkanoo Expo Museum. And then my ass is gonna be museumed out."

Justin snickered. "Is that a word?"

"It is now."

Justin parked himself in front of one of the most elaborate Junkanoo costume exhibits and took out his sketchpad and colored pencils. When he'd seen the information about the museum in the packet the hotel had sent him, he'd known that he had to make some sketches. So while Brian wandered the gift shop looking for a present for Lindsay, he got to work. Pretty soon he was lost in his drawing and didn't notice when someone came and stood at his shoulder. When he became aware of his surroundings again, he knew immediately that it wasn't Brian. Looking up he saw a black teenager, probably his age or a year older, about Daphne's complexion with dark brown to auburn corkscrew curls spiraling from his scalp. Beautiful dark brown nearly black eyes. Full apricot lips. Justin smiled and the teenager smiled back. Motioned with his head at Justin's drawing. "That's pretty good."

American by the accent. "Thanks."

"Where's your boyfriend?" At Justin's startled look, the guy explained. "I saw you two together yesterday on Bay Street."

"How do you know he's my boyfriend?"

"You don't look like brothers and he's not old enough to be your dad. Besides, I can tell."


"By the way you are together. I saw you hold something up and call to him and he looked over and shook his head and you both laughed and I could tell that you had known he would say no and he knew you would expect him to say no."

Justin remembered that moment. He'd held up a tee-shirt that said, "Half-mast is better than no mast at all."

"I'm Andre," the teenager said.

"Justin." He paused, then said, "My lover's name is Brian," the words sounding strange and yet comforting too.

Andre glanced around. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," Justin replied.

"Me too." He hesitated. "He's what? Twenty-seven, twenty-eight?"

"Thirty," answered Justin, proud that Andre hadn't guessed correctly. Brian would be pleased.


"So you're...?"

Andre sat down next to Justin on the bench. "Yeah. I'm down here with my parents. Kind of a graduation present. Although I wish I were here with my boyfriend."

"He's back home?" Justin asked, putting away his pencils.

"Don't have one. Not at the moment. But I figure at college, maybe I'll meet someone." He gestured at Justin's drawings. "You going to art school?"

"In the fall."

"You're good."

"Thanks. Where are you going to college?"

Andre's face brightened. "UCLA."

"Cool," said Justin. "I bet there are a lot of hot guys there."

"I live in Riverside but we used to go up to LA all the time. The guys are unreal. Especially around Venice Beach."

"I don't think there'll be any hot guys at the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts," confessed Justin.

"You'll be there." Andre smiled shyly and Justin returned the gesture. "Besides, what do you care? Brian's totally hot."

"Yeah, he is," said Justin, his words woefully inadequate to describe Brian's level of sexual attractiveness.

Andre grinned. "I bet you guys are fucking like bunnies."

"All the time," confessed Justin. "Brian says I'm wearing him out."

They laughed and then Andre glanced something that sobered him a bit. "I see my parents. I'd better go. We've got about a hundred things left to do before we leave on Saturday."

" 'kay. It was good to meet you."

"Yeah, you too. Maybe I'll see you around before we go."



"Later." Justin watched as Andre schlepped over to a middle-aged couple and then all three headed for the exit. His drawing finished, he stuffed his pad into his backpack and jumped when Brian spoke behind him.


"My drawing or Andre?"

"I didn't see your drawing," Brian confessed.

"I thought I was the only twinkie you were interested in."

Brian pecked him on the back of the neck. "You are."

Munching on a bit of fried grouper on the rooftop of the Prince George Rooftop Cafe, Restaurant, and Lounge, Brian announced, "I'm going to have to get one of those wrist cords that people put on their kids."

"For what?"

"For you."

"Why?" asked Justin, about to burst into laughter at the image of Brian leading him around by one of those things.

"To keep an eye on you."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

Brian took a big gulp of iced tea. "I saw the way that twink was looking at you."

"He was interested in my drawings."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Brian inquired dryly.

Justin munched a French fry. "We talked about school... and you."

"What? About how you could get rid of me?"

Grinning, Justin asked, "Are you jealous?"


His own fries decimated, Justin reached across the table to finish Brian's. "I would never leave you for another twink."

Aware of the fine distinction implied by his words, Brian asked, "What about for another man?"

Justin thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Nope." He stroked Brian's hand with a finger. "I've got the best one already."

Hazel eyes smoldering, Brian commented, "You're only saying that cause it's true."

The rooftop felt like it was about to go up in flames and it had nothing to do with the sunlight beating down on it.

Since Brian had found a beautiful piece of cloth with a Junkanoo costume print on it for Lindsay, they had the entire afternoon to do whatever they wanted. They did some shopping for themselves, getting mostly touristy kinds of things--which would end up in box somewhere or on a shelf in Deb's house--with a few serious purchases thrown in for good measure. Brian picked up a delicate coral carving of a dolphin, something Justin thought he'd never have noticed, and made a couple of furtive purchases which let the teen know that the gifts were for him. Instead of trying to find out what they were, he put his curiosity on hold and did some secret shopping of his own.

Stopping back at the hotel, they dropped off their stuff then went down to the hotel dock and got in line for the glass-bottom tour of the harbor that started in fifteen minutes.

While it wasn't as exciting as snorkeling around the reef, the fish did look beautiful and it gave them a chance to take a breather. Brian was convinced that he would need another vacation to recover from their vacation. But he wouldn't have missed this for anything in the world. It constantly amazed him at odd moments how much he treasured these days and nights with Justin.

The boat tour over, they returned to the room and packed all of their purchases away in the empty suitcase. There wasn't a bit of room to spare. Of course, they had broken their one gift per person rule and gotten some additional knick-knacks for almost everybody. It was a good thing they were leaving in three days or they'd have to buy another suitcase--which wouldn't have been a hardship with all of the luggage shops on Bay Street.

Opting to stay in for the evening, they showered and changed for dinner, sampling the fare at the hotel's restaurant that offered international cuisine. Brian had a seafood strudel and Justin ordered the grilled leg of lamb, both quite good. After last night's dessert extravaganza, they shared an order of zabaglione with raspberries on top, heading immediately afterwards for the beach and a well-needed walk.

"I'm going to have to hit the gym three times a day when we get back just to work off all this food," Brian said, patting his extremely flat stomach.

"There's a fitness center in the hotel," Justin pointed out and Brian shot him a dirty look.

"And when would I have time to use it?" he asked.

Good point. Justin hooked his arm through Brian's and laid his head upon his shoulder. "I'd love you even if you were a whole two pounds heavier," he teased.

The sky looked so beautiful that when they got back to their room they carried the spread out to the balcony and used it to cover the two cushions from the chaise lounges that they had put upon the floor. Their makeshift bed complete, they laid on their backs, holding hands, and marveled at the changing colors overhead. Watched as the sun went down and the stars came out one by one... as the reds and oranges of the dusk were replaced by the dark blues and blacks of the night.

Gradually the stars were forgotten in favor of a more earthbound view: that of one another's eyes as they came together in a kiss that seemed to last forever. Brian slipped out of his sheer robe and Justin eased out of the matching bottoms in preparation for an open-air bout of lovemaking when Justin realized that the people in the rooms around them could probably see and hear them since the railing around the balcony hid nothing from view. Brian was shameless enough for it but Justin wasn't quite up to public fucking yet despite the episode in the Jeep, so they dragged the spread-covered cushions just inside the living room and closed the curtains to the balcony. They'd still get the breeze and there was still a chance that someone would hear them but at least they'd be out of the public eye.

An hour later Justin was certain they'd been heard. God, he'd never moaned like that before. Brian had found his spot and hit it just right, and the tropical breezes had played over his body like a second lover. Together the two sensations had kept him crying out with each breath. He was still tingling all over from the intensity of his orgasm. Still lying beneath Brian's body, the man having collapsed on top of him in exhaustion, Justin savored the feel of his lover's weight on his chest and thighs and belly and laid trembling hands on his wet back and buttocks. Drunkenly, Brian raised his head and kissed him.

Fourteen hours later they were finishing off a light lunch in the cafe on the hotel's private offshore island having gone snorkeling in the morning. Intending to have dinner in the city and then go out clubbing, they'd opted for a lazy afternoon lying on a deserted stretch of beach or in one of the wicker hammocks hung among the trees a discreet distance from civilization. At Brian's feet lay a bag which he had packed himself and refused to show to Justin no matter how much the teen had begged. Lunch done, Brian picked up the bag and instructed the teen to follow him. He led them on a fifteen minute walk to a grove of trees that seemed to have been overlooked by the world. Ordering Justin to stay where he was, Brian scouted out the area and returned satisfied. "Make yourself scarce for ten minutes and then come back here."


"Just do it."

Rolling his eyes, Justin gave in. "How am I supposed to know where here is?"

Brian looked around and agreed. From the beach this area of trees looked like every other area of trees. He removed his shirt, which was white, and tied it around a tree. "There. Think you can find it now?"

As he strolled off Justin flung, "This had better be good," over his shoulder.

Grinning, Brian disappeared into the trees. It would be.

Exactly ten minutes later Justin returned and found the tree with Brian's shirt on it. His shirt had a note pinned to it: "Follow the clues and do what the notes say. Leave the shirt." Shrugging, he searched for the next clue. Found it lying over a bush; it was Brian's shorts with another note. "Take off your shirt and shorts and leave them." Justin glanced around to make sure no one had popped up out of the bushes and removed the listed items, only keeping on his swimming briefs. He went forward. The next clue was draped over the branch of a juvenile palm tree: Brian's swimsuit. Next to it was a pair of trunks. The upper half was made of a sheer black mesh and the lower half was a piece of cloth patterned with tropical flowers. The patterned portion of the trunks would barely cover his cock and the bottom of his ass. The majority of his groin and ass would be visible through the sheer material. The trunks were extremely revealing and highly erotic. Just looking at them, imagining how he'd look in them, Justin felt a stirring in his groin. The note said, "Put these on and meet me at the hammock." Quickly, he kicked off his old briefs and slipped on the new trunks. They had to be the ones Brian had talked about in the dressing room when his mom had rejected the thong swimsuit. If she could only see him now. He laughed and went in search of his hidden lover.

Found him lying on a hammock wearing a pair of skin-tight, semi-sheer black trunks with horizontal tiger striping that left nothing to the imagination. There was no cloth to hide his cock or his ass. He stood and Justin's lips parted, wanting him so badly he could taste it on his tongue. Brian held out his hand and Justin took a step forward. Their fingers entwined, their bodies came together, and then their lips met in a deep kiss. Still joined, Brian turned them so that the edge of the hammock bumped against Justin's buttocks. Gently, he eased the teen into the hammock and got in with him. At first Justin was worried that the hammock and the trees wouldn't be able to support their weight, but the wood held. A soft, thick cushion below him and Brian above him, Justin was in paradise.

He cupped Brian's dick through his trunks and stroked him until he stirred and pressed against the thin material. Joining in the fun, Brian slipped his hand between Justin's thighs and rubbed against his cock and balls, exciting the teen, coaxing his genitals to stiffen and fill. They kissed and played with one another until they were both ready to take it to the next level. Brian climbed out of the hammock and stood at the side. Thumbs beneath the waistband, he lowered his trunks until they were down around his thighs. Justin crawled to the middle of the hammock and lay on his belly, his legs stretching out over the other side, his head and arms free on the other. Moving closer, Brian fed his cock into the teen's open mouth. To keep his chest from pressing down too hard against the edge, Justin held onto the rim of the hammock so that Brian was in complete control. At first he was content to just let the teenager suck his cock but after a while he wanted more. Gradually, he began to pump his hips, drawing his cock over the young man's tongue. Justin sucked hard on the head as it passed over his lips, loving the way the broad expanse felt and tasted. Letting go, he turned over onto his back and Brian lifted one knee onto the hammock and gave him his cock once more. Justin gobbled his dick, saliva running back over his cheeks like reverse tears, and tugged on his own, growing harder by the moment. At last Brian pulled out and went around the other side of the hammock.

Justin had managed to get his trunks down over his cock but no further. Drawing them down around his knees, he fastened onto the swollen organ and sucked until Justin began to moan. Upon which, he released him and licked up and down the length of his shaft not stopping until the head arched over Justin's belly button. Reaching down into the bag at the base of the tree, he removed a condom and unrolled it over his dick. Flipped the top and pressed the opening of the tube of lubricant against Justin's hole and squeezed, dropped it on top of the bag, then began massaging the wrinkled lips, spreading the lube over the knotted opening until he was able to ease a finger inside. Slowly, he pressed forward until his finger was buried to the hilt. Sliding it out again, he quickly repeated his actions, increasing the tempo and force until Justin was whimpering and begging for more.

Finger withdrawn, he pressed his cock against Justin's hole and pushed, spreading the lips of his ass open wide around him. He continued to apply pressure until he was completely sheathed. Justin was holding onto the edge of the hammock with an iron grip. His head hung back over the rim and he looked upside down at the world around him. And then he began to move. Not just him but the entire hammock. Instead of withdrawing, Brian had taken hold of the hammock and pushed it away from him. Keeping a firm grip on it, he allowed the hammock to swing back towards him. Muscles tensing, he pushed it away again and continued the reverse fuck, loosening his hold a little at the very end so that Justin roughly came to rest against him. As Justin's hole relaxed, he began pushing him away and allowing him to swing back towards him, only stopping him at the very last moment so that they jolted against one another at the completion of each stroke.

Mouth open, Justin cried out each time he came to the end of his journey, Brian's dick buried in his ass, his lips smarting a little from the force with which he slammed into the man. Hanging upside down, Justin's vision had begun to get fuzzy as he got closer to his orgasm. But he could still see well enough to realize that they weren't alone.

At the edge of the line of trees, he saw two faces: a man and a woman. Watching them as they fucked. Raising his head, he looked up at Brian, saw that his eyes were closed as usual. He wanted to warn Brian but he couldn't catch his breath enough to string together two sentences. All he could do was hang on and enjoy the ride and hope that the couple eventually grew tired of the show and left before the final curtain. Unfortunately, they showed no signs of leaving. But it was no longer important. Clenching his teeth, he tried to hold back the shout that was bubbling in his belly but he knew that it was only a matter of a few more hard jolts and he'd be lost. Sure enough, Brian's grip on the hammock slipped and he slammed hard into his cock and saw stars. Yelling, he felt the first spurt of cum land upon his stomach. Brian stopped moving the hammock and grabbed his dick, jerked out the next stream. And the next. He continued pulling on Justin's dick until the teen's belly and chest were dotted and streaked with spunk.

When Justin's ass had ceased to spasm, he withdrew and pulled off his condom, bringing himself off with a few rough pulls that snatched the cum from his balls and scattered it upon Justin's body. Within a few moments his jizz had mixed with Justin's and the teen's torso was wet with his cum as well. Giving a great sigh, Brian leaned over him and kissed him hard. His eyes opened and he met the eyes of the couple watching them. When they realized that he'd seen them they hurried off. He laughed weakly and lowered his head. Laughed again. Fuck 'em. Maybe they'd learned something. He hoped they'd left a tip. After a performance like that, they deserved at least a few dollars. The thought tickled him and he laughed again.

Justin's face was still red hours later. And not from the sun. He avoided looking at anyone on their trip back to the mainland. Of course, it didn't help that his ass was more than a little sore and he kept fidgeting on the bench. Brian, on the other hand, seemed to take great delight in playing "Match the Faces," studying each couple to see if they were the Peeping Toms from earlier. Leaning over, he whispered to Justin, "Think of it as community service." The teenager choked back his laughter and tried to look stern but the shit-eating grin on Brian's face sabotaged his best efforts to remain serious and he snickered too.

With hours to kill before their seven thirty dinner reservations, they crashed on the bed and watched Velvet Goldmine while Brian nursed a Jim Beam Black Manhattan, giving Justin a sip every now and again and letting him take the cherry since, as he said, "I took yours." Calling Velvet Goldmine "the pretty boy movie," Brian actually paid attention to what was going on more than he usually did when they watched anything other than his favorite films.

"Should I be jealous?" Justin asked as Brian eyed Jonathan Rhys Meyers with more than a little interest.

"Nope. I've got the best golden pretty boy there is," Brian replied, pulling Justin closer.

"He's a lot like you, maybe being outrageous is a Brian trait," suggested Justin since the character was named Brian as well.

They did seem to share a lot of the same characteristics: pouty lips, beautiful eyes, a slinky, smoky sexuality that was very masculine yet tempered by grace, and a flair for the dramatics. Brian loved one of the character's quotes, "Nothing makes one so bold as being told one is a sinner." And although he identified with the character of Brian Slade, like his fictional counterpart, he really got into Curt Wild, especially when he was singing, "Gimme Danger". Watching Ewan McGregor writhing about on the floor was making him hot, Justin could tell. His lips had parted slightly and he got that lazy look in his eyes, the way he did when they were about to make love. There was something about the way Curt screamed, "I wanna feel it! I wanna feel it!" that Justin knew Brian understood on the most basic level. He was like two people, the sleek ad exec who presented a tasteful facade to the world and the other man, the one who went clubbing and took drugs and drank and fucked--all in the service of sensation, of trying to feel something, anything, even if it was pain. Hearing Cecil say of Slade in the movie, "Brian was elegance walking arm and arm with a lie," Justin looked at his Brian. You could say the same about him. And he wondered, which Brian was with him now? Curt, talking about him and Brian, said, "We set out to change the world... ended up just changing ourselves." And Arthur asked, "What's wrong with that?" "Nothing," Curt replied, "if you don't look at the world." Justin thought about them, on this trip; was this their way of not looking at the world? What would happen when they got back home? And then the movie ended and his Brian was still with him and he found that he didn't care to think about the future. The here and now was quite enough.

Around six they started getting ready for dinner and Justin watched Brian go through his routine before slipping into a completely white Yves Saint Laurent suit with an almost knee length white jacket perfectly tailored to silhouette his tall, slender frame. Justin took one look at him and said, "You look like you belong in Velvet Goldmine." To which Brian winked. In his new outfit from Emporio Armani that his mom had purchase, a light blue-grey silk suit with a slightly darker sweater, Justin was no slouch either. They both looked like they had just stepped out of the pages of GQ.

As they passed through the hotel lobby, heads turned. Colin caught their attention and signaled his approval. The taxi waiting outside ferried them to the east end of the island to the Sun And... restaurant. To get to the restaurant they had to walk across a drawbridge, through an archway, and then into a secluded garden. Requesting a courtyard table, they were seated next to the pool. As per instructions on the menu, Justin ordered his Souffle au Chocolat at the beginning of their meal and then they waited for their appetizers to arrive.

"You aren't afraid of getting something on your suit?" Justin asked as Brian negotiated the jumbo shrimp cocktail.

Brian raised an eyebrow. "I've been doing this a lot longer than you, I think I've got the hang of it."

Making sure no one was watching, Justin stuck out his tongue.

A cool ocean breeze ruffled the table cloth and Brian's hair. Sipping his Chardonnay he seemed a bit pensive to Justin. Risking his anger, Justin asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Brian set down his wineglass, tapped his finger against the stem. "Life." Chuckled softly. "I wonder if Curt Wild was happier than Brian Slade in the end?" he asked softly, as if he were ashamed to still be thinking about the film.

"I wish they could have stayed together."

"Different ways of living in the world. Brian was nothing but artifice, he put nothing of himself in the music, and Curt... the music, his life, they were all the same."

Justin glanced away then back, sensing that Brian was talking about himself somehow, about the two of them. "But they were so miserable apart."

"Yeah." And that was it. Nothing more. He smiled suddenly and looked up as the waiter brought their salads.

Dinner progressed and by the time they had finished the main course Brian seemed to have shaken off the malaise caused by the film. Popping the last of his seared sea scallops into his mouth, Brian chewed happily and sat back in his chair, completely satiated, no traces of the sadness from before remaining. He tipped the last of the Rothschild Sauvignon into his mouth and smiled. "That was amazing."

Justin had just finished eating the last bit of his lobster fricassee and was eagerly awaiting the arrival of his souffle. "No dessert?"

"Maybe some strawberries and cream," he replied. Held out his arms to display his spotless shirtfront. "See? Look, Ma, no stains."

"Shut up." Justin had gotten a spot of cream sauce on his shirt and had had to endure ribbing from that moment on.

The waiter returned and Brian ordered the Coupe Romanoff--strawberries dusted with powdered sugar and served with whipped cream.

"So we're going to go back and change and then go clubbing?" Justin asked.

"Yeah. Colin said the Bahamas Boom Beach Club was the hottest club in the islands. Not as many bars as The Zoo but good music."

"Maybe we can hit both," Justin suggested.

"That's why I keep you around. You're so smart," teased Brian.

Dessert arrived and Brian allowed himself to be coaxed into taking a bite of Justin's souffle and reciprocated by giving up one of his strawberries. The way the berries stained the teen's mouth, he was tempted to lean over and lick the juice from his lips but he restrained himself. There'd be plenty of time for that later.

Having paid the bill and thanked the waiter for a great meal, they caught a cab back to the hotel and changed into their dancing clothes; Brian had brought his black buckle-strapped tee-shirt in anticipation of going out dancing one night. He threw on a grey silk shirt just in case the club proved to be more formal than the tee-shirt. Justin slipped on Brian's semi-sheer black shirt--the one Brian had yelled at him to take off when they'd lived together--and figured if he got too hot, he'd just go bare-chested.

Moby was playing when they arrived, irony of ironies, and they insinuated themselves into the crowd, found a clear square foot of space, and began dancing. Brian fully admitted that he was, at best, a serviceable dancer, but Justin, Justin was something else. Gyrating his hips, pumping his tight bubble butt, he drew the attention of most of the people around him. A few of them clapped and urged him on and he reveled in it, kicking it up a notch. By the time they took a breather, he was covered in sweat. Laughing and shaking his head, Brian pinched the front of his shirt and tugged him off the dance floor.

Brian leaned in and warned, "You're gonna set this place on fire if you're not careful."

"Can't douse this flame," Justin replied.

Stealing a kiss, Brian whispered, "Then burn it down, baby."

Just as they returned to the dance floor Radiohead came on and although they started the song apart, by the time the second verse began they had moved closer together, Brian's arm around Justin's shoulders, groins pressed together, bodies responding to the pulses in the music. Before they knew it they were kissing, the crowd forgotten, heedless of where they were. Brian's hand had slipped up under Justin's shirt and Justin had eased Brian's silk shirt back over his shoulders before they realized that not only were they not in Babylon but that they had garnered quite an audience. Moving apart, they started dancing again, erotic motions substantially reduced.


Brian looked around. It was the woman from the pool. Nya. "Hey."

"You two are something else," she commented grinning. "Caught your act from way over there. I thought you were going to do right on the floor." She licked her lips. "Too bad you stopped."

Remembering the couple from that afternoon, Justin blushed.

They made room for her and she danced with them, giggling as the two men courted her with their moves. And again, the music and the situation got the best of them and Nya found herself getting hotter and hotter as the two lovers seduced one another around her, through her, with her. Pressed between their two bodies, she could feel them getting harder, the bulges at their groins brushing against her as they danced. Head thrown back, she felt Brian's lips on the side of her neck, Justin's at the nape and she gasped, wanting them to--

A hand grabbed her and pulled her from between them. All three looked up with lust-hazed eyes. Her husband stood there, glaring at the trio. "What the fuck are you doing?" Dennis whispered harshly.

Nya attempted a weak smile. "Dancing?"

Catching the husband's eye, Brian pursed his lips. "Wanna dance?"

Nya began dancing around Dennis. "Come on, baby..." Soon Justin and Brian joined her, surrounding her husband. The poor man tried to break through them but couldn't as they kept the circle tight. Finally, he gave up and just danced with them. "That's it, baby," she whispered.

At some point Dennis became aware of Brian moving behind him and, at first, he resisted and then he admitted to himself that he liked the feel of Brian's body against his hips. Fuck, he was getting so hot, so hard... Nya pressed against him and the twin sensations went right through him like lightning. He felt someone's hand cup his groin and at that point he didn't care who it was. Looking down, expecting to see Brian's hand at his crotch, he followed the arm and met a pair of bright blue eyes. Justin curled the tip of his tongue, beckoning him but he couldn't move, locked between Brian and Nya.

By the time they left an hour later, Dennis had nearly come in his pants. Outside, under the street lights, his face turned beet red but he did manage to mumble, "Thanks," to the two lovers before stumbling off with Nya to find a cab to take them back to the hotel.

"I think our work here is done," Brian announced. He kissed his golden pretty boy. "What do you say we head on back too?"

"That was so fucking hot," Justin admitted.

"We could still catch up with them and..." suggested Brian.

But Justin shook his head. "Seeing you with them only made me want you more."

Brian chuckled and wrapped an arm around Justin's neck. Hailed a cab.

He sank beneath the surface of the waves, eyes open behind the protective goggles. The sun flickered like candlelight through the water. The only sound he could hear was his heart beating, echoed in the pulse at his temple. He closed his eyes and continued to descend. Hair floating around his head like a madman's halo, he glanced over at Justin and beyond him, their guide. The man made motions with his hands that they were just about to the thirty foot limit. It didn't matter, the view was spectacular. This was the site of what was known as the James Bond Wrecks. One of the wrecks was the Tears of Allah, a former tugboat now broken up underwater on the southern side of New Providence. Near it was scaffolding from the movie Thunderball which had been underwater for over thirty years. Coral had grown over it and it looked like nothing so much as a multi-colored jungle gym teeming with tropical fish. They couldn't have asked for a better dive site. Justin had already begun filming the ship and the nearby reef.

Brian remembered the ship from Never Say Never Again, vaguely remembered the plot of the movie, like it mattered. James Bond saved the world, got the girl, all of the movies were the same. Although he did secretly harbor a thing for Timothy Dalton, thought he was the best Bond even if he had only starred in two of the films, there was something about him. He'd fuck him. Putting thoughts of Her Majesty's Secret Service from his mind, he concentrated on enjoying the view and the sensation of floating above the world even if the world was only a wrecked ship, scaffolding overgrown with coral, and a reef full of fish. Now he knew how Justin had felt parasailing and he regretted not going up as well. But not too much; this was enough. Besides, they only had an hour, no time for regrets.

Taking the video camera from Justin, Brian filmed the teen swimming among the fish near the Thunderball wreck, admiring his agility, his sense of wonder, and he thought, Thank you, to no one in particular. Thank you for giving him to me.

At the end of their hour, they swam back to the surface and climbed aboard the boat for home. Home. A hotel room half the size of his loft and already it had begun to feel like home. Because they were in it.

Showering and changing quickly, they had lunch in one of the hotel restaurants, then hopped onto the bus and rode into the city. Flagged down a cab to take them over to Paradise Island to the Atlantis Hotel. They felt a little guilty visiting a rival hotel but everyone had assured them that it was not to be missed, especially the waterscape. It was comprised of eleven million gallons of water in eleven lagoons. They had 50,000 sea animals from over 200 mostly Bahamian species in the habitats. Justin really liked the Ruins Lagoon with fake Atlantis artifacts. But they both fell in love with the Predator Lagoon. Brian, of course, was partial to sharks, barracuda, and rays, but it was the one hundred foot underwater tunnel running through the lagoon that won them both over. It was amazing, walking through the habitat while sharks swam around and over you, pursuing schools of fish among the coral.

By the time they went in for dinner they'd seen all eleven habitats including The Dig, a labyrinth representing mythical Atlantis. As you walked through the rooms of the labyrinth, you could look through viewing windows at the ruins of Atlantis and see its current denizens: the fish of the habitat. Justin thought it was wonderfully cheesy and cool at the same time and he took a plethora of pictures to show the guys back home.

Although they didn't eat in the Fathom restaurant, they did go inside so that Justin could take a picture of the huge aquarium that dominated the dining room. Shot secured, they made their way over to the Five Twins where they had reservations. While they both agreed that the food was awesome, Justin felt the meal they'd had at Sun And... was the best they'd had in the Bahamas. Brian accused him of being a food snob since Sun And... was the epitome of fine French dining and Justin didn't disagree.

Dinner over, they breezed through the casinos but neither one of them was a fan of gambling so after a brief walk-through they went down to the beach and wandered around for a while but there were so many kids that Justin felt it was time to get Brian back to the Baja Mar--before he tossed any of them into the Predators Lagoon.

Back over the bridge and into Nassau, they debated hitting the bars until the clubs opened but their hearts really weren't into bar hopping and clubbing tonight. It was their last night on the island. Tomorrow they'd board the plane back to Pittsburgh. In the end, they took a taxi back to the hotel and went for a stroll along the beach--blessedly child-free--and talked about their trip, about all the things they'd seen and done. By the time the sun set, they were ready to go upstairs.

Seated on one of the chaise lounges, they shared the bottle of champagne they'd found waiting for them with a note attached to it: "Thanks for everything. It was the best ever! Nya."

Justin curled up in Brian's arms and gazed up at the stars. Remembered them talking about the constellations. Wondered if they'd ever look at the stars together again once they returned home. He doubted it. Stargazing just wasn't something you did in Pittsburgh, he didn't know why, he just knew that it wasn't. He shivered, thinking of all the things they'd never do again and Brian mistook the gesture and suggested they go inside. After all, there was a breeze and they had on a minimal amount of clothing, Brian having opted for his sheer robe and Justin having put on the sheer tropical trunks Brian had purchased him. But Justin replied, "No. It's okay." So Brian tightened his hold on the teen and they settled down once more.

It felt so good, lying on the balcony with Justin in his arms. Brian never wanted the evening to end. But it would. Eventually, they'd go inside and go to bed and in the morning they'd get up, pack their bags, and take a taxi to the airport. Back to glorious Pittsburgh. He didn't think he'd ever hated Pittsburgh as much as he did at that moment. And he could tell that Justin was barely keeping his feelings at bay. So he swallowed the sadness and smiled, determined to make the most of the time they had remaining. Drawing away from Justin, he asked, "You sure you don't wanna go inside?" with that lazy look in his eyes.

Justin smiled playfully and stood. Pulled Brian from the lounge and led him to the bedroom. Pushed him onto the bed and jumped on top of him. "Oooph," Brian grunted.

The teenager kissed him hard then sat up. "Didn't you say you'd packed some toys in your suitcase?"

"Fuck." He grinned. "I'd forgotten all about them."

Justin rolled off of him. "Don't you think it's time you remembered?"

Going to his bags, Brian took out a package he'd gotten from a shop on Bay Street instead. He ordered Justin to stand and strip, and to close his eyes. "Hold out your arms."

"For what?" the teen asked, easing off his trunks and closing his eyes. He waited for an answer.

"Just do it." Justin raised his arms. Lips curled in a smile, Brian removed his gift from its box. It was a gold waist chain hung with a tiny, golden sun. Arms meeting behind Justin's back, Brian encircled his slender waist with the chain and fastened it close, the charm lying against his flat belly. "Okay, open your eyes."

Looking down, Justin smiled. "It's beautiful."

"I thought it'd look better than a wrist cord." Tugging on the chain gently, he drew Justin to him. "Now I'll always know where you are."

Justin pulled Brian's head down and kissed him murmuring, "Right next to you."

Moving around back of Justin, Brian ran his hands over his high, tight buttocks, squeezing them gently at first and then harder, kissing his neck and shoulders. He slid one hand over Justin's abdomen and rubbed it, feeling the chain roll beneath his fingers.

Brian's hand felt so good on his belly, fingers slipping down into his pubic hair, pulling the strands, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to add to the plethora of sensations. Brian opened his robe and wrapped it around them both, stroking Justin's cock with the smooth material, rubbing his thighs, his chest. Each time Brian's robe brushed against him it was like an electric jolt went through Justin's body. "Touch me," Justin whispered.

"Where?" asked Brian.

"Everywhere," he replied.

So he did. Laying Justin upon the bed, Brian slowly went over every inch of his body. From his temples to the soles of his feet, no measure of flesh escaped notice, no nook or cranny was so insignificant that Brian overlooked it. Ferreting out the places where pleasure took refuge, Brian coaxed it from its hiding place with gentle kisses and whispered words of love. When he was done, Justin's body tingled all over and he wanted Brian inside of him.

"Fuck me," he said and it's what he wanted. Not to be made love to but to be fucked.

"What about the toys?"

"Fuck me now," Justin commanded and he reached over and tugged on Brian's dick. "Or don't you want to?" he asked but before Brian could answer, the teen had begun to lick his cock, so hungry for it he had to have it somehow, if not in his ass then in his mouth. Brian leaned back and let Justin blow him.

"Suck it, baby," he urged the teen. "Make me hard. Suck that dick." Whispered, "Oh, fuck yeah..."

Justin pushed Brian onto his back and climbed on top of him, applied even more pressure to his cock causing Brian to cry out. "Oh, baby... There... Yeah... Lick it," he begged as Justin hollowed his cheeks and increased his activities. Brian moaned and caught his breath as Justin let him slip from between his lips aching and hard. The teen drew Brian's arms over his head and held them there, not allowing him to touch his cock. Gradually Brian calmed down and Justin began again.

This time he removed the tie from Brian's robe and wrapped it loosely around his lover's cock, then slowly began stroking him with the silk material. It didn't take long for Brian to start to fidget, the feel of the silk driving him out of his mind as it caressed his shaft. "Yes," he muttered. "Oh God, yes. Yes. Don't stop don't stop..." Justin jacked his meat until his pisshole began to widen and then the teen once more released him and refused to bring him off.

Dizzy with desire and the need to come, Brian closed his eyes and allowed his mind to go blank. Justin had taken control of the situation and would do as he pleased. There was nothing he could do but to trust him.

His own cock hard, his balls filled with cum, Justin kept his mind off of his own urges by toying with Brian's. He knew how close Brian had been those two times and he intended to bring him even closer to the brink. Leaving the man panting on the bed, he searched through Brian's drawer until he unearthed the double-headed dildo. It was surprisingly flexible and soft to the touch. Experimenting, he found that it was capable of bending at all sorts of angles. Toy in hand, he grabbed the lube as well and returned to the bed.

Brian's erection had subsided a great deal although he was still stiff. Justin rubbed the dildo against the man's cock, then pressed between his cheeks eliciting a sigh. "You like that, don't you?"

"Yes..." softly.

"I think we can have some fun with this."

Again, "Yes..."

Aware of the reversal in their positions, Justin asked, "What do you want me to do?"

And Brian replied without speaking: just raised his legs and caught them behind the knees, thighs spread apart.

Justin squeezed a generous amount of lube onto the dildo and spread it along the head and shaft, then he moistened Brian's hole with his fingers until it and the area around it glistened. The lips tensed and Justin rubbed them gently. "You gonna open up for your little boy?" Brian groaned. "Come on, let me open up your hole." He eased his finger inside and paused, then withdrew it partway and penetrated him once more. Once he was able to freely slide his finger in and out he removed it and placed the head of the dildo against Brian's relaxed hole. "I'm gonna make you feel so good." He rotated the head against Brian's lips. "I'm gonna make you scream." He pushed hard and felt Brian's hole give as the head passed through the first ring of muscle. Justin couldn't believe how incredible it felt to watch the dildo disappear inside of Brian, to feel it sliding through his asshole.

When he'd purchased the dildo, he'd thought arrogantly that he'd use it to pleasure Justin and yet here he was, on his back, whimpering while Justin fucked his hole with eight of the toy's eighteen inches. The teen had even changed positions so that he could suck Brian's cock as well. Brian didn't know how much more of this he could stand but he fought to keep the edge from his voice, to keep Justin from knowing just how close he was.

Only Justin knew. Giving Brian a final thrust, a last lick, he pulled away, leaving the dildo inside him, and refused to finish the job once more. Moaning in desperation, the man released his legs and made for his cock but Justin caught his hands and prevented him from touching his aching organ. "No. Not yet."

"Oh God..." whispered Brian. "Please..."

Eyes fixed on Brian's, Justin replied, "Not yet." He released Brian's hands. "Get ready," he told him. "Are you ready?" Brian nodded. Justin sat between Brian's legs, took hold of the dildo and lubed it again. Then he laid back, raised one leg, and pushed the free head into his own hole. Slowly he fed the other end of the dildo inside his ass, moving closer and closer to Brian as he did so. When he was done, their asses were only inches apart and their legs were entwined. With controlled motions they fucked themselves on the dildo, Justin's hand in the middle to keep it steady, slippery with lube. He brushed his fingers against Brian's hole and was rewarded with a cry. Risking a touch, he checked Brian's cock and balls, his lover was as hard as he was and dripping wet. He returned to the dildo, gripped it firmly, and withdrew.

"Turn over," he told Brian an the man did so, the dildo hanging down between his thighs, the part inside him shifting as he moved. "Get on your knees," and this time he held the dildo in place while Brian assumed the position. Bending the dildo so that the half in his hand was angled towards the bed to accommodate the differences in height, Justin again fed the rubber cock into his ass and backed up until they were almost touching. This time he let Brian set the pace and determine the nature of their fucking. The man thrust his hips back towards him hard, forcing the dildo to slid further inside of Justin. Meeting his thrusts, Justin could feel the dildo moving between them, giving first one an extra bit and then the other. Despite his desire to remain in control of the situation he couldn't help but grunt and groin as he got reamed. Fuck, it felt so good, so... Jesus... He needed... more.

Brian lowered his chest to the bed, ass high in the air, as Justin got to his feet, crouched over him and began driving his hips backwards furiously. He was almost seated on Brian's ass. The man could hardly breathe, he was being fucked so intensely by Justin and the dildo. He reached for his cock and heard a sharp, "No!" and almost wept. The delicious movement stopped. The weight on his hips lessened as Justin stood, the dildo sliding out of his asshole. Without being told he turned over and lay panting, cock hard and wet and wanting to be touched, His nuts felt like they were twisted in a knot.

"Kneel," Justin told him and he did, knelt on the bed and waited. Justin eased part of the dildo out of him and bent it so that the other end stood up in front of Brian. Then he lowered himself onto the slippery length so that they were facing one another. Without being told, Brian grabbed him and kissed him, sensing that this would be the final leg of their journey. He was right. Justin didn't think he could put off coming any longer. He felt Brian's hand around his cock, jerking him hard, ensuring that he would not put an end to activities this go round. Asshole tightening around the dildo, Justin cried out and sprayed Brian's belly with cum. Over and over again he pumped juice onto his lover's skin until Brian was soaked and he was exhausted. But they weren't through.

Justin pulled the dildo from his ass and lowered his head, licking Brian's balls while twisting the dildo in his hole. Brian grabbed his cock and pulled, shouting as the first spurt splashed Justin's face and hair. His hand continued to slide up and down the shaft as stream after stream of spunk splattered Justin's shoulder and neck. He didn't think he had ever come as hard or as much as tonight. Shuddering, he watched the last few drops of cum fall upon his fist to drip down from his knuckles like streamers.

Rummaging through his belongings, Brian hunted for his lighter but couldn't find it. He'd been good about not smoking the entire trip but he really wanted a cigarette right at this moment and, "Goddamn it," he couldn't find his lighter.

Justin noticed him grumbling and asked, "What are you looking for?"

"My lighter."

"I think you left it in Pittsburgh," he replied.

Brian held up a pack of cigarettes. "Then why the hell did I bring these?" Justin shrugged and got out of bed. Opened his backpack. "Why would my lighter be in your bag?"

"It's not." Then he corrected himself. "Least not your old lighter." He handed Brian the object he'd removed from his book bag. "Here. I hope you like it. I got it on Bay Street."

It was a brushed chrome Zippo lighter with the Jim Beam Sour Mash emblem embossed on the surface. Brian smiled slightly. It really was quite elegant in a mass market kind of way. Flipping the top he started to light his cigarette then remembered he couldn't smoke in the room. He started for the balcony, paused, and kissed Justin on the cheek. "Thanks."

Justin fingered the gold chain around his waist, debated returning to bed, then decided to join him. Wait until he gave him the sterling silver cigarette case...

I can't believe we leave tomorrow. It's like we just got here. I think Brian's asleep, if not he's being really quiet. I can tell he doesn't want to go home either. I wish we could stay here forever, I wish--but there's no point in wishing because tomorrow at 3:30 we're boarding the plane and we're going back to glorious Pittsburgh. And then everything is going to change. I can't believe how close I feel to him right now, even though he's in the other room and asleep, I feel like he's right next to me. I don't want that to change, but it will. There's no way we can stay like this once we get back. I just know it. I almost wish--No, I don't, I won't even write it because it's not true. I guess I should go to bed now, there's no holding back the dawn.

Brian felt for Justin but the teenager wasn't beside him and the bed was cool where he had lain during the night. Throwing back the covers, he went in search of the young man. Found him standing on the balcony looking out into the darkness. They'd planned to get up in time for the sunrise but they had another half hour at least before the sun would make an appearance. Brian went up behind Justin and wrapped his arms around him, rested his chin on the teenager's head. Justin didn't respond. Worried, Brian asked, "What's wrong?"


Brian decided that, for once, he'd take Justin at his word so he started to leave but Justin caught hold of his hand and wouldn't let go. Kissed his fingers and Brian felt a tear fall upon his skin. "Talk to me," he said cupping his palm around Justin's jaw.

"I don't want to leave."

Brian laughed. "Me neither. But if I don't show up at work Monday morning, Ryder's gonna chew my ass off. And I don't have a surplus like you do."

Justin laughed despite the sadness. "Fuck you."

"I love your smile."

And the easy way he said it only convinced Justin that he was right, that it was this place. "Everything is gonna to change when we get back."

"No. It won't."

"Yes, it will. You'll have work and I'll have school--"

"Not for a couple of months." He squeezed Justin. "Nothing's going to change between us," he said and he watched Justin for any sign that would tell him the teen believed him. He knew Justin wanted to believe him, wanted that more than anything. And he saw him close his eyes for a moment, then open them, and Brian knew that he'd made a decision: he would trust Brian.


"I promise."

Colin arrived about twenty minutes later with their breakfast and they took it out onto the balcony, as they had almost every morning of their trip, and watched the sun rise while sipping Strawberry Mimosas.

With sunrise came tasks: gathering up their belongings and making sure they'd packed everything which was difficult because they still had to shower and dress. Somehow they managed to account for everything.

Having spent most of the night making love, they shied away from the act this morning. Not because they were exhausted but because they both felt, without sharing their feelings, that to do so would have an air of finality about it, as if their lives had begun and ended on the island.

Taking a leisurely shower together, they dressed and finished packing the rest of their toiletries, then zipped and locked their suitcases. As their flight didn't leave until the afternoon, they planned on going into Nassau to do some last minute shopping and to have lunch prior to returning to the hotel to pick up their luggage and depart for the airport.

They checked out of the hotel, saying hello and goodbye to Henry who had come on duty. Justin had left thank you notes upstairs in their room as the hotel didn't permit tipping. "I hope to see you again," Henry said and they returned the sentiment.

Their luggage they left with the concierge in the main hotel lobby. When they returned after lunch, a limousine would take them to the airport.

The trip along the "Go Slow Bend" into town was a little sad this morning but the beautiful scenery and the sunshine managed to bring a smile to both their faces. Beginning in the Straw Market and working their way down Bay Street, the two men picked up a couple of additional gifts for their friends and family--nothing much, just things they'd seen a day or two earlier that stuck in their minds. Brian groaned, thinking about opening the suitcases again and packing these gifts away as well but Justin solved the problem: he bought a carry-on bag for the gifts, saying he needed one anyway.

Having enjoyed their meal at the Prince George Rooftop Cafe, they returned there for lunch, taking delight in the fresh air that blew over the rooftop and the sight of the ships in the harbor. Then Justin checked his watch and announced that it was time to go.

He'd promised himself that he wouldn't look back, that once the plane took off from the runway, he'd concentrate on the future. But for one brief moment, he glanced out of the window at the beautiful blue water, the colorful flowers and buildings, the green trees and plants, the tan beaches and then he closed the shade on the window and laid his head back against the seat. Gently, he felt Brian's hand cover his own and he smiled, turned his hand over and laced his fingers with Brian's.

As on the trip down, they dozed off on the return flight and only woke when the plane began its descent into the airport. Neither one of them moved to open the window shade, they'd see the city soon enough.

Michael met them at the gate and hugged them both. "You guys look great."

"Thanks." Looking at Michael, he told himself not to forget to send David his gift: the dolphin carved from coral.

Justin remained silent.

"You must be exhausted." Michael grabbed Justin's carry-on bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Come on, we'll get your stuff and I'll take you home."

Home. Just thinking about the loft, about his three nearly-full drawers, made Justin smile a little. Home.

True to his word, Michael hadn't stayed long. Only helped them take their bags into the apartment and then he took off for Deb's to let her know they'd arrived safe. Justin called his mom and spoke briefly with her, promising to come by the house tomorrow.

Brian unlocked the suitcases and laid them on the bed. Then changed his mind and put them on the floor. He dropped onto the bed himself and stretched out. God, he'd missed this bed and hadn't even realized it. Justin appeared in the doorway.

"You act like you're still on vacation."

"I am," Brian replied. "Until nine o'clock tomorrow morning. So how about you put on that CD you bought and I'll fix us a couple of margaritas and we can lie here on the bed and pretend we're on the beach."

Justin crouched down by his carry-on bag. "You're on."

So they did. All evening they lay on the bed and sipped margaritas. After one too many they got slightly tipsy and began dancing on the bed. Hungry after their exertions they ordered in and had dinner on the bed. And then they slipped out of their clothes and made love. In their bed.

When morning arrived, Brian cut off the alarm--a sound he hadn't heard for a week--showered, dressed, and drank a cup of the coffee Justin had gotten up and prepared. He gathered his papers and the gifts he'd bought for Ryder and Cynthia, and found his car keys, and slipped his new lighter in his coat pocket. "You'll be here when I get back?" he asked and Justin stood on his tiptoes and kissed him, his blue silk robe sliding down over his shoulders, his gold waist chain winking from beneath the cloth.

"Where else would I be?"

No time for playing, Brian cupped Justin's cheeks in his hands and stroked the tops of them, slid his hand over the teen's belly and gently tugged on the chain. They'd both be counting the hours until he returned. Releasing him, he picked up his briefcase and pulled open the door. Before he stepped out of the apartment, he turned and smiled. "It's not so bad, huh? Being home."

Justin shook his head, still feeling Brian's hands on his skin. It wasn't bad at all.

Don't forget to View Justin's scrapbook of their trip (Please Note: pages are graphic intensive and may take additional time to load)

Note: Title taken from "I. ERMINIA ABBANDONATA", The Poems: Volume 1. Dramatic Scenes and Fragments, 1851, Thomas Lovell Beddoes, lines 32-33:

And spun me sunshine to delight my eyes,--
Carried my cities, and did make me summer

Special Thanks: James D and Spinney for reminding me that waiting sometimes makes it better; to Kym for her personal recollections of the Bahamas; and to Colleen for sustained encouragement.

Heels Over Head | Stories