Beyond the Sea (21 page)

“
I feel like it was too small. There was something there, but it was…maybe a foot long? I don’t know.” He gingerly rolled his ankle from side to side. “At least it feels a lot less like burning death.”

“
I’ll drink to that.” Brian lifted his water bottle and took a swig. “God, I would kill for a cold beer.”

“
Also, a Big Gulp Coke with ice would be heaven. I miss processed sugar so much.” Troy stared at the gentle swells of the ocean. “Okay, I can’t take this.” He put down his dinner and hoisted his leg off the pack. “I’m too gross. I need a bath. Can you help me?”

“
Why don’t we wait until tomorrow when it’s light?”

“
I can’t. Please?”

How could Brian look into those big brown eyes and say no? “Okay, let’s get you up.”

Once Troy was standing on his good leg—keeping his right foot elevated behind him with his knee bent—Brian swore softly. “Shit. Should have taken your shorts off while you were on the ground. Hold on.”

Dropping down, he peeled Troy’s boxers over his hips. As his hands skimmed Troy’s thighs, brushing over the sparse hair there, Brian’s groin tightened, making his heart skip.

What the fuck?

They’d been naked around each other before, and Brian had seen a thousand other guys over the years in locker rooms. It had never been anything…
weird.

But kneeling there in the sand, slipping down Troy’s underwear with Troy’s hand resting on his head for balance, it was…different. A pulse of heat zipped through him, and he was very aware of the sensation of Troy’s flesh under his fingers, his thick cock in the periphery of Brian’s vision. Brian kept his gaze zeroed in on Troy’s knees.

“
Okay, right leg first.” Brian’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat as he gently lowered the cotton over Troy’s swollen ankle and foot. “Can you put a bit of weight on it?”

“
I think so.” Troy lowered his foot and tentatively leaned on it. He winced, but lifted his left foot enough for Brian to get the boxers off, leaning heavily on Brian’s shoulders now. “Will you be my crutch getting down there?”

“
Of course.” Brian stood gratefully, trying to shake off his body’s strange behavior.

“
You’re coming in, right?” He glanced down at Brian’s cargo shorts.

“
Right.” With Troy still holding onto his shoulder, Brian quickly unzipped his shorts and stepped out of them and his boxers, keeping his gaze on the pale sand.

He wrapped his left arm around Troy, and they slowly made their way to the water’s edge. The skin of their bare torsos and hips stuck together damply, and Troy felt so hot against him that Brian wanted to feel his forehead to make sure a fever wasn’t returning. But Troy seemed fine, and Brian was being…he didn’t even know what. He shook it off. He was tired and stressed. Whatever. It was nothing.

The water was cool, and Brian sighed as his feet sunk into the soft, wet sand. “This was a good idea.”

“
Hell yes.” Troy lowered his bad foot.

“
Feel okay?”

“
Salt stings a little, but it’s not bad. It feels kind of good. After before, this is nothing.” He hopped forward. “Okay, let me get down there.” When the water was knee-deep, he let go of Brian and did a little attempt at a dive that was more of a belly flop before rolling onto his back.

“
Very graceful. I can tell you’re a dancer.” Brian gave him a quiet golf clap.

Paddling deeper on his back, Troy flipped him the finger. “I can dance. I’m not a
dancer
. There’s a difference. Besides, I’d like to see how graceful you look.”

Holding out his arms, Brian splatted into the water, trying to splash Troy as much as possible. So of course Troy splashed him back, and they laughed in the dark little waves under the glittering stars. When they tired of it, they floated on their backs, rocking on the gentle swells.

“
I think the beauty’s there.” Troy pointed. “Near the beasts. That little cluster with a trail behind her. You see?”

“
Uh-huh.” Brian turned his head to look at Troy. He stuck out his arm, but Troy was beyond his grasp. “Don’t float too far. You never know about the currents.”

“
Mmm-hmm.” Troy kicked lazily with his good foot, floating back toward him.

Brian reached out, his fingers brushing over Troy’s wrist just to make sure.

“
Fuck Kate Hudson, kill Katy Perry, marry Kate Winslet.”

Troy grinned. “Me too! Definitely have to marry Winslet. I met her at a thing once, and she was so nice and beautiful. Not that Katy Perry isn’t, because she is. But gotta kill someone. Never met Hudson, so maybe I should switch those. Hmm.”

Brian laughed. “Well, I don’t have the advantage of having met any of them, so I’m glad I got the ‘right’ answer.”

Stretching out his leg, Troy rolled his ankle. The swelling was finally completely gone, and only the odd red patch remained on his skin.

“
Feeling okay?” Brian asked. He wove together the strands of two huge palm fronds. The roof of their rudimentary lean-to was almost finished. Troy wondered what else they could build.

“
Good as new.”

They stayed close to the fire after the sun was long gone, keeping the bugs at bay. Troy’s body ached, but in a good way. They’d worked out that morning before the sun was too hot, doing planks and push-ups. After all those days barely able to walk, Troy didn’t want to take his body for granted ever again. He’d started with crunches, and now that the pain and swelling was gone from his foot it felt amazing to tone his muscles again.

He ran a hand over his curling hair. The sun and sea dried it out, and he felt as if a fine layer of sand had become part of him from head to toe. At least his face was mostly smooth, Brian having shaved him a couple days before. He smiled to himself as he thought of the rumble of Brian’s voice above him, the hot facecloth pressed to his skin, and Brian’s gentle hands. Troy loved spa day.

Something scuttled across the beach nearby.
It’s not a spider. Nope. Not a spider.

“
It’s just a little sand crab thingy.”

Blinking at Brian, Troy wondered if he’d spoken aloud. He didn’t think he had. “Even if it’s not, just tell me it’s a sand crab. Always a sand crab.”

His cheek dimpling in the light of the flames, Brian picked up a stick and tossed it over the fire. “Deal.”

“
Dude, you think you can pick me up a Big Mac on your way back tomorrow?”

“
Sure. Milkshake too? Fries?”

“
Totally.” Troy sighed wistfully. “Or maybe a big juicy steak. Remember steak?”

“
I do indeed. I’ll see what’s open tomorrow.”

It was dumb—just their silly little joke. Most days, Brian would go on a walk down the beach at some point to get his alone time. They had a strict agreement that neither of them were to venture into the jungle by themselves farther than it took to have a shit. Troy found he didn’t mind the time to himself, even though he missed Brian by the time he came back. It filled him with a warm sort of joy to see Brian returning along the white sand, coming into focus with a smile and wave.

When Brian returned, Troy would ask him what he’d picked up. Some days it was McDonald’s, or tacos, or a nice Italian meal of pasta and sourdough. Then they’d eat their fish and fruit and pretend.

They’d brushed their teeth after dinner, taking turns with Brian’s toothbrush as usual. The toothpaste was gone, and Troy missed the little burst of mint so much. Sometimes he wondered if perhaps there were different fruits growing in the jungle that could give their food a new flavor, but the thought of going back in there made his heart thump. No, he was happy staying on the beach.

As they sat in comfortable silence, Troy stared up at what he was pretty sure was Orion, a million years away beyond the fire’s glow. “You know, it’s weird, but…”

“
What?” Brian asked quietly.

“
Part of me likes being here.” He quickly added, “Not that I want to stay forever, obviously. But it’s so nice to just…be. Not a little sheep herded around by our agent and manager, and ‘people.’ I know it’s cliché, but there was always someone telling me to do something, or wanting something from me.
Even when we had vacations, it took a lot of careful planning to find places where I could have even a bit of privacy. I couldn’t just up and go wherever I wanted. Always someone watching. Knowing every person with a cell phone—so, you know,
everyone
—could be taking your picture. To be able to walk around here bare-ass naked with my dick hanging out and not end up all over the internet like Justin Bieber is liberating.”

“
My tell-all is really going to suffer from the lack of desert island dick pics.” Brian’s teasing smile faded. “Seriously, though, I don’t know how you didn’t go crazy.”

Troy tossed a hunk of wood on the fire in a shower of sparks. “Yeah, sometimes it really sucked. But I will stop douche whining now about a job that paid me millions and gave me loyal fans.”

“
You’re not a douche.” Brian reached out and squeezed Troy’s arm, his fingers trailing down before falling away, leaving a shiver in their wake. Troy inched closer to the fire.

“
I have no idea what kind of life I’d have if my dad had been someone different. If we hadn’t gotten the TV show. It’s weird to think about.”

“
The road not taken and all that.”

“
Yeah. Here, I like being able to…” Troy waved his hand around.

“
Do what you want for a change?”

“
It’s not that I don’t enjoy singing and dancing and all that. I do. It’s fun.”

“
But?”

He thought of his old guitar, its hollow weight comforting on his leg, the strings putting calluses on his fingers. Troy shook his head. “I don’t know. I probably shouldn’t attempt any deep thoughts.”

“
Weren’t you the brainy one?”

“
No, no, the bad boy.” He gave Brian an exaggerated scowl. “Older and dangerous, mysterious and close-lipped. Lock up your daughters.”

“
Ah. Yes, you’re
very
wild. Especially with that hair.”

“
Shut up.” Troy patted down his growing curls and flicked sand in Brian’s direction.

Brian flicked some back. “Well, you know what I think?”

Troy waited with a raised eyebrow, realizing he really, really wanted to know.

“
You’re tired. You’ve been working nonstop since you were what, twelve?”

“
Fourteen, but yeah. I guess I have. First the TV show, and then the band. I kind of love that here, my job is collecting fruit and cutting firewood with a pocket chainsaw.”

“
We’re like those crazy doomsday preppers, living off the grid.”

“
Minus the collection of machine guns.”

Brian leaned back on his elbows, his gaze on the swath of stars. The firelight played over the dark hair across his pecs and around his nipples.

Brian said, “Although a gun might come in handy so we could hunt and not just gather. I’ll give the preppers that. But I guess there’s nothing to shoot here. Wouldn’t want to get lead in our fish.”

“
Nothing we know of.” Troy glanced at the hulking shadow of the jungle. “We’d have seen or heard it by now if there was something…huntable, right?”

“
Definitely. These islands are too small. It’s just birds and insects and reptiles we don’t want to think about.”

“
Ugh. The birds, I can handle.”

“
Except those parrots. I wouldn’t mind shooting them most mornings.”

Troy laughed and poked the fire with a stick, making it crackle. The signal fire still burned a little ways down the beach by their fruitless SOS.
What if they never find us? What if we get sick or hurt again? What if—

He inhaled deeply and counted to five. They were doing everything they could. They’d get through this. They had to. To think they wouldn’t wasn’t an option.

“
What?” Brian asked.

Troy realized his face was screwed up and his hands in fists. He exhaled and unclenched. “Nothing. Like I was saying, I do appreciate the freedom here. But then I feel guilty, or get scared, or… I don’t know. My head’s a confusing place.”

Brian laughed softly. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“
Did it feel good when you went to live in Australia? When you gave it all up?”

He closed his eyes and swallowed, and Troy watched his Adam’s apple bob. The sadness that washed over Brian was like a physical thing, and Troy wished he could take it in his hands and crush it. “It felt…like the only thing I could do. It felt better than before, I guess.”

Troy wanted so much to ask about the
before.
As he tried to find the right words, Brian spoke, watching the stars again.

“
Would you want to do your own music? Instead of being in the band?”

Yes.
“The thing is, when I write, it never seems to be the right songs that come out.”

Brian looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“
It’s like…this folky stuff. Songs that are stories in a specific way.”