Chapter 7

 

 

 

 

Dawn found them sprawled on the sand, the fire completely out, their limbs stiff, their bodies gritty with sand. Sam opened his eyes and shivered in the cool breeze. Donovan lay near him, curled into a fetal ball, his dark hair falling over his face.

“Donovan,” Sam said softly, leaning over to shake his shoulder. “Wake up.”

As Donovan sat up, his face puffy, his eyes still red, Sam said, “I’m going to build the fire again and boil some water for coffee.” The tin of instant coffee they had found in the emergency rations still contained most of its powder. Neither man was a coffee drinker, though they’d each had a cup or two over the weeks just to break the monotony of water and coconut milk.

Sam hauled himself to his feet and walked toward the lean-to, pulling his now dry, stiff blue jeans from the top of the tarp where Donovan had placed them the night before. He took Donovan’s jeans as well, returning to him and handing them down to where Donovan still sat, staring at nothing.

Sam pulled on his sneakers, not bothering to lace them. As he got the fire going, he wondered where they would go from here. Depression had settled over them both, more profound even than when they’d floated all day in the raft before finding land. At least then they’d had hope. At least then they’d believed their rescue was imminent.

Donovan came up behind him, echoing his fears. “No one’s going to find us. We’re going to die here. They’ve stopped the search. That wasn’t a search plane. No one is looking for us. We’ll never get off this island.” His voice was low, the words spoken in a monotone that alarmed Sam more than if he’d been emphatic or angry.

“Stop it,” he retorted, his voice sharper than he’d intended. “Let’s focus on what we can do.”

Donovan just stood there, staring blankly into the fire.

“Go on,” Sam ordered, keeping his voice firm. “Go to the pool and wash up while I get this fire going. Take the jugs with you.”

Donovan stared at Sam as if he didn’t recognize him, making no move to go.

With a sigh, Sam retrieved two jugs himself, along with his T-shirt. He glanced back with concern. Donovan had sunk to the sand. He was sitting still as a statue, his face an expressionless mask as he gazed toward the sea.

Sam moved quickly through the vegetation. He rapidly scaled the rocks to the stream and filled the jugs. He stopped a moment by the pool and scooped handfuls of the cool, clear water over his head and face, attempting to remove the grit from a night spent in the sand. He dipped the hem of his T-shirt in the water, noting among the many stains the faded blood stain at its hem from their shaving experiment.

What would happen now between the two of them?

The intimacy of that moment when he’d daubed the blood from Donovan’s cheek had been the real beginning—the moment when the fear in Donovan’s eyes had been replaced by something else. Had his fledgling desire been snuffed out now by this latest disaster?

Sam had barely been able to contain himself as he’d kissed Donovan’s impossibly sweet mouth. With stunned, delirious gratitude, he’d knelt before the man he’d so often dreamed of claiming. Donovan hadn’t resisted him—hadn’t pushed him away with disgust or anger. Donovan’s cock was large—long and thick, smooth as satin, hard as wood. Sam’s mouth literally watered at the memory.

His heart cracked at the thought of Donovan slumped like a rag doll by the fire pit. Hurriedly, he squeezed the excess water from his T-shirt and hurried back toward their encampment beneath the coconut trees.

When he got back to firepit, Donovan was nowhere to be seen.

~*~

It felt good to float. At first, he’d tried to swim straight out to sea, but a strong side current kept tugging him off course. After a while he’d given up, letting the current drag him along parallel to the accursed island. What did it matter where he drifted?

Donovan lay on his back, feeling the warmth of the newly risen sun against his face. He had pulled on the jeans Sam had dropped next to him but hadn’t bothered to retrieve his T-shirt. His sandals remained near the tarp. He would have no further need of them. He was going to swim until he could swim no more. Beyond that, he had no plans.

Glancing toward the receding shore, Donovan felt a momentary pang at the thought he wouldn’t see Sam again. Whatever had happened last night between them, he had come to love the kind, quiet man. Would Sam miss him? Of course, he would be lonely without another person to talk to but he would be fine. Perhaps someday a ship would pass near enough for Sam to signal and he would escape their prison at last.

But Donovan wouldn’t be there to witness it. He couldn’t bear the thought of another moment on the tiny bit of rock and sand. The thought of another mouthful of hard coconut meat, another meal of bland, crumbling fish, another night spent sleeping on blankets under a tree, filled him with horror. He’d been holding himself tight as an over-wound clock while he waited for a rescue.

But when that plane had passed by unaware, indifferent and then gone…something had broken inside him. His carefully coiled defenses had sprung free, leaving him raw with despair.

Again, he glanced toward the shore, their pathetic encampment still visible. Oh Sam. I will miss you. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t do it. I just can’t bear the thought of another day.

~*~

“Donovan! Donovan! Where are you?” Sam checked inside the tent and then scanned the area, his eyes darting nervously over the sand. “Donovan,” he cried again as he moved back into the brush, heading past the rocks that led to the pool, calling as he went. Maybe Donovan had only gone to get some ping pong fruit.

But Donovan wasn’t at the fruit trees.

Sam tore back toward the pool, clamoring over the rocks, holding his breath as he ran through the cluster of coconut trees. No Donovan. He hurried back toward the encampment. Maybe they’d just missed each other.

“Donovan! Donovan! Jesus, where are you!” Sam stood a moment, trying to catch his breath. Donovan seemed to have vanished. Yet the island was so small. If he wasn’t on land…

“No,” Sam breathed softly, fear turning his innards to ice. “No,” he shouted. “No, Donovan, you can’t be such an idiot! No!”

He ran to the water’s edge, staring out into the ocean, his eyes scanning the unbroken turquoise vista for a bobbing dark head. He began to run along the perimeter of the island, his eyes fixated on the water, his heart pounding with fear.

Then he saw him. He was far out, but not too far to reach. Sam’s heart cracked in two as he kicked off his sneakers and plunged into the water. How could you leave me?

With powerful strokes rendered even stronger by the spurt of adrenaline urging him on, Sam swam toward the dark head. Donovan seemed to be floating but his face was turned upward, a good sign surely.

Sam plowed through the water, salt water and tears blinding him as he gained on Donovan. Please, god, let him be alive. Let him be okay.

“Donovan, what the hell are you doing?” Sam gasped when he was finally close enough to be heard. “Donovan!”

Slowly Donovan looked toward him, his expression blank. Sam continued to swim as hard as he could, relief washing through him as he neared the floating man. He tread the water as he demanded breathlessly, “What the fuck are you doing, man! Have you lost your mind? You could be pulled out to sea! You know we agreed never to swim alone in the ocean. How could you be so stupid?”

“Sam,” Donovan said, as if he hadn’t heard him. “Let’s stay out here. Let’s let the water take us. It’s better this way. It’s for the best.”

Sam stared at him with disbelief as he tread the water just beside him, not quite daring to touch him. “No,” he cried. “You don’t mean that. That was just one plane. Don’t give up. Please, come back to shore with me. Please, don’t leave me alone. I need you, Donovan.” His voice cracked, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Please, don’t abandon me. Come back with me. I’m begging you.”

Donovan said nothing, but he didn’t pull away as Sam caught hold of his arm. Swiveling back toward the shore, Sam began determinedly to swim back, Donovan under his arm. He was winded from his frantic swim out, but didn’t dare stop to rest because the current had shifted. It was pulling them out to sea, the island now barely visible when he turned toward it.

Breathing hard, he gasped, “Come on, Donovan. Swim. I can’t pull you all the way back.” Sam began to cry, desperation shattering the last vestiges of his reserve. “I love you, Donovan. Don’t leave me.”

At these words, the mask seemed to slip from Donovan’s face. He lifted his head and stared at Sam as if seeing him for the first time. His blue eyes mirrored the brilliant blue of the water as life seemed to reignite in them. “Sam,” he said softly, the single word thick with emotion. And then to Sam’s enormous relief, he began to swim. Together they pushed toward the shore, toward the little piece of land they had no choice but to call home.

~*~

“Guess you’re two for two,” Donovan said, turning to smile ruefully at Sam.

“Pardon?”

They lay side by side in their underwear, letting the sun dry them on one of the flat rocks near the pool. Once they’d made it back to shore, they had rested in the warm sand as they waited to catch their breath, waited for their hearts to slow to normal. On rubbery legs they’d climbed to the pool and plunged in, washing the salt water from their exhausted bodies.

“You’ve saved my life twice now.”

Sam said nothing as he stared up at the tall coconut trees swaying in the breeze. Donovan looked at him—his deeply tanned face, his dark blond beard streaked with gold from the sun, his lips red and chapped, reminding Donovan of their touch against his mouth, around his cock…

“Sam,” he ventured, aware Sam deserved some kind of explanation. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. It’s like something broke inside of me when that plane passed over without even seeing us. I guess I just, I don’t know, gave up.” He took a deep shuddering breath, trying to control the emotion welling inside him. Tentatively he reached out to touch the top of Sam’s hand.

Sam didn’t pull away.

Heartened, Donovan closed his fingers over Sam’s.

Sam turned to look at him. His eyes were warm, giving Donovan the courage to continue.

“It’s kind of like I shut down,” Donovan explained. “I left myself, if that makes any sense. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. I just wanted it over. But when you swam out to me. When you said what you said…” He trailed off, unable to continue. Sam had said he loved him, but it may have only been a ploy to lure him back. To be left alone would have been a hell Donovan couldn’t now believe he had been willing to consign Sam to.

Sitting up abruptly, he said in a low, shamed voice, “God, I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so, so sorry for what I almost did to you. It was the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

Sam sat up too, reaching out to touch Donovan’s cheek. “Shh, stop that. It’s like you said. You were gone. Your spirit had drifted away through desperation and fear. But you’re back now.” He paused, musing. “It’s weird actually. I saw the moment you returned to yourself. Your eyes—they had been flat as stones, the life, the sentience, somehow not there. But then it was as if the light returned. You were you again. That’s when you started to swim. You saved your own life, Donovan. You made the choice to keep on fighting.”

Donovan shook his head. Sam was being Sam, and Donovan felt grateful, as he so often had, for Sam’s grace and forgiveness. Donovan had to face the fact that he’d completely broken down when the plane hadn’t seen them. He’d fallen apart, collapsing in tears, beside himself with grief and rage. Then numbness had settled over him like a shroud. Without a thought for Sam, he’d decided to take the easy way out.

Now he looked at Sam—his strong, hard body, his muscular legs, his handsome face, the large, kind eyes smiling gently at him without reproach. That was where Sam’s true strength lay—in his calm acceptance of people as they were, and his ability to take what life hurled at him with aplomb and grace.

“I love you, Donovan. Don’t leave me.”

Did Sam mean romantic love? Or just the love between two friends who had forged an unbreakable bond? Did he love Sam in return? Donovan was confused, but at the same time, he was deeply touched by Sam’s trust in revealing his feelings so honestly. Surely he owed Sam the same consideration?

“Here’s my promise to you, Sam, and to myself,” Donovan said aloud. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I don’t want to deny my feelings. I don’t want to shun yours. I don’t want to give up or back down when things get tough. What you said out there…” Again, he didn’t quite dare to repeat the tender words. Swallowing, he went on. “I mean, I feel it too. I don’t know if it’s only because we’re stuck here or not. I don’t care. If you’re willing to start over with me, I promise not to let you down again. I promise, Sam. We’re in this together until the end.”

“Thank you for that, Donovan. It means a lot.” Sam took his hand, squeezing it gently. Donovan felt a jolt of arousal course through his loins as his cock stiffened in his briefs. He couldn’t help but glance down at Sam’s sizable package, barely concealed by his underwear. This man had said he loved him. Instead of being repulsed as he surely would have been before the shipwreck, Donovan was thrilled by the words, eager to exploit them as he recalled Sam’s hot, perfect mouth on his cock the night before. He leaned toward Sam, closing his eyes, his lips parting for a kiss.

Sam’s lips met his, but the kiss was almost chaste. After a moment, Sam pulled back. He stroked the hair tenderly from Donovan’s face. “About last night… I think maybe we moved a little too fast. And because of the plane, we didn’t have a chance to process it. Let’s just take it easy today, okay? Later we can dig for clams and use the signal mirror. I don’t know about you, but I think I’m going to sleep for a while. I’m pretty wiped out.”

“Yeah. Okay, sure,” Donovan said, only now taking in how wrecked Sam looked—his face drawn with exhaustion, his eyes drooping with fatigue. Jesus—he hadn’t only risked his own life—he’d risked Sam’s as well. If Sam hadn’t had the strength and sheer force of will to haul Donovan back to shore, they might have both drifted helplessly out to sea…

Sam’s eyes were closed, his breath already deepening as exhaustion claimed him. Donovan slipped his arm beneath Sam’s shoulders and pulled him into a gentle embrace. Then he, too, closed his eyes.