SAM
In the late afternoon, Luke and I arrive at our destination in Stewart Island. It’s a cute little bed-and-breakfast that this family owns. The entire trip here, including the flight, the drive, and the ferry ride, has left me speechless.
I mean, we’ve talked, grumbled, and laughed, but we’ve both avoided acknowledging what this trip means to me. I’ll actually have a chance to cross everything off my 20s Must-Do List before I turn 30.
The owner of the bed-and-breakfast shows us to our room on the top floor. It has a homey cottagey feel to it with the exposed wood on the slanted ceiling, non-functional wooden shutters at the sides of the large windows, Kauri furniture, and patchwork quilts covering the two queen-sized beds.
“It’s lovely,” Luke says to her, flashing his winning smile. “And thank you for being able to put us up on such short notice.”
The owner nods, flushed and happy, and leaves us to it, shutting the door behind her.
I drop my hurriedly-packed suitcase on the bed closest to the door and move to check out the en-suite bathroom. It’s small, with only a shower, but it’s clean and the décor fits the main room, with solid wooden cabinets and framed cross-stich pictures on the wall.
I feel Luke come up close behind me and peer over my shoulder into the room.
“This is really great,” I say, watching Luke in the reflection of the mirror. He smiles, and it’s large and soft, and I don’t think he knows I can see it. I look away before he catches me staring.
When I turn around, he’s stepped back a few steps. He’s wearing shorts and a Stay Calm and Suck It Up T-shirt, and he looks like summer has kissed him.
“Yeah,” he says, sliding his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “It’s pretty damn neat.”
I try and fail not to notice the way his T-shirt has ridden up on one side and a wedge of skin is showing at his side. I’ve been noticing a lot of small details about him all day. Like the small scar on the side of his neck that is slightly silvery in the light. Or the fact Luke has a few freckles on his ears. And the bluish-black bruise under one of his knees.
I want to ask about it, but I don’t want to draw attention to the fact I’ve really been looking at him.
All of a sudden, I’m back to last night, to us on his couch. The memory of Luke’s mouth around me has me choking on a breath. I’m not sure how many times I’ve choked like that today. 5? 6? 20? A lot, anyway. But I just can’t stop thinking about what we did together.
Each time the moment comes back to me, I repeat the mantra: It was just experimenting. Fooling around.
That’s it.
Really.
He lifts his eyebrows questioningly, and I shake myself back into the moment. I exhale slowly, moving over to the windows. Sand and ocean views wink back at me.
“This must cost a fair bit,” I say as I tilt the window open.
Luke is lifting his suitcase onto the bed and unzipping it. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
I turn sharply, shaking my head. “Yes, Luke, it is. You can’t expect me to take all this and not contribute.”
Luke drops the flap of his suitcase and skirts around his bed and over to me. He’s keeping a bro-distance between us, and I can’t say why, but that bugs me. After what we got up to yesterday, I don’t see why we can’t at least be casual about the odd, friendly touches here and there.
Surely we’re both secure enough in our sexuality to know hugging or leaning on each other doesn’t mean anything.
“It’s not what I want, and it’s really not much. So don’t worry,” Luke says, his voice is firm and he’s looking at me the same way he always does when he’s putting his foot down. He won’t take no for an answer.
“Okay,” I say, going for a different tact, “then I’ll pay for both of our dives tomorrow.”
Luke shakes his head. “No, you won’t, Sam. This trip is my birthday gift to you. Please just enjoy it.”
“That’s very”—I swallow, and for some reason my palms are getting sweaty. I rub them over my shorts—“very generous. Too generous, I think.”
Luke shrugs that off. “Nah. You only turn thirty once. Next year it’ll be back to basics.”
“Shouting me dinner and a movie? That’s not basics. I love that.”
Luke’s breath hitches and then he nods stiffly before quickly turning to his suitcase again.
I move to mine to unpack as well. The Bed and Breakfast is such a contrast to my shabby house, and as I set my clothes into the dresser next to Luke’s, I think one day I’d like to have a place as nice as this. Maybe 3 or even 4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a garage . . . It doesn’t have to have the knickknacks or quilts . . . but just . . . it’d be nice to graduate to something a little more mature.
“I’m out of battery,” Luke murmurs, tossing his cell phone on the bed. “Crap. Didn’t bring a charger, either.”
He shakes his head and continues unpacking.
I can’t help my gaze—and thoughts—wandering to Luke again. I chew on my bottom lip for a moment, and then I just brave up and ask what’s been on my mind for a while now.
“Why do you do this for me?” I say it to Luke’s back as he rummages to empty the rest of his suitcase. He stops, his back muscles tensing. He doesn’t look around. I continue, “I don’t just mean bringing me here to swim with the great whites.” I fiddle with my zips, and slide my suitcase off and under the bed. “I mean, why are you so cool with me acting this crazy and, well, let’s face it, stupid?”
I wince just thinking about how drunk I got last Friday. I slump on the bed, sitting, and facing the door.
“Because you need it,” Luke says quietly and I feel the mattress bow as he sits on the other side of my bed. “Because you deserve some time-off.”
“It won’t be forever,” I say, glancing back to the quilt between us. “I just need to get it out of my system.”
Then I hope . . . I hope that maybe then I’ll be a better Dad for Jeremy. One who can relate to him, and who doesn’t feel those little inklings of jealousy.
The warm hand on my shoulder startles me and I jerk. Luke drops his hand and goes back to bro-distance. “So long as you don’t get a tattoo, you have my support to just go with it.”
I kick off my shoes, twist on the bed, and face him. “I want to clear something up. And this is nothing to do with us . . . you know, fooling around. This is something over and above that.”
Luke stiffens. “What’s that?”
I reach over and punch him lightly on the arm. “This bro-distance thing we have—had going. It’s shit. Sometimes I just want to bump arms, or give you a hug.”
I’m blushing as I say it, but it needs to be said. And I’m glad it’s finally out there in the open.
Luke breathes out with a small, relieved laugh, and suddenly, I’m being pulled into a hug. “You’ve never said a truer word.”
I relax against him, and when I move away, my toes come against Luke’s side. I wiggle them until he laughs and captures my feet. “Let me go!” I say.
“Nope. I think not.” He squeezes harder, fingers biting into my skin in the same way he had last night. And suddenly my body is waking up in interest, and my cock is getting hard.
Because you’re still curious. You haven’t finished all the experimenting you want to do.
Yes. Experimenting.
Being wild.
Getting it out of my system.
That’s all it is.
I hurriedly snap my foot from his grasp and roll off the bed. I fluster. “I, uh, how about we go for a swim?”
Luke frowns, but stands up and moves to the drawer. “Sure,” he says, pulling out his wetsuit. “It’s going to be cold though.”
Good thing, too.