Anton and Daniel 2

Anton hooks an arm over the boom and sips the afternoon ice tea Fourteen provided. He looks across the water to La Paz. It is a peaceful working town with another long pier and busy marinas. The mariners have walked La Paz’s palm-shaded waterfront , dotted with sculptures and full of strolling families and a surprising number of rollerbladers. The people are predictably friendly to the visiting yachters with their expensive boats and deep pockets. La Paz provides a great spot to re-provisioning and manage any needed repairs before Surroco forays to the islands and anchorages up the eastern coast.

Anton’s business has caught up to him. Another day, then Anton and Daniel will move on to the many bays and anchorages further to the north. Long Island Iced Tea, Anton takes another sip. Fourteen can make them. He packs the thought away.

The cruising has been laid back and the crowds are minimal to non-existent at this time of year, this far north. The three shipmates wandered La Paz for two days. Anton indulged in a spending spree. Young Fourteen needed a phone so the lovers could reach him when they party on the shore. “Give him yours and keep the new one.” Anton advised, but Daniel was prickly that way. Anton’s young lover has his pride. The Chicago job rejections stripped too much of that away. Anton let Daniel shower gifts on Fourteen. It eased Anton’s guilt, and anyway it was Anton’s original suggestion that their enchanting cabin boy be better clothed.

The younger men are busy together on the foredeck. Fourteen squats shirtless in a new pair of navy camo hybrid shorts and the water shoes Daniel picked out for him. Fourteen folds wiry-agile into himself like the clasp knife he carries in his pocket. Everything is interesting, and Fourteen watches-listens to it all. Crewing on Surocco keeps Fourteen’s thoughts in the now.

The Surocco now is healing. Fourteen loved Levi Fisher for the way he unpacked Fourteen’s shy, novice sexuality. Unbridled passion, just being Fourteen, which meant being unapologetic queer. Levi gave Jeremy Gates that: guilt-free, unshackled libedo. They were lovers in a strange time, generations apart. Levi Fisher had his Nguyen Huu Tuan fissure. Complicity with Tuan and survivor’s guilt weakened the solid cast of the old Liberty Bell. Even so, Levi always rang true. Levi sounded a certain kind of freedom for Jeremy Gates.

Levi found ways to drive Fourteen crazy and he was so old-man-competent about a young body. Fourteen could never trip him up. He could drive the old Boomer to distraction when he wanted to; Fourteen was the kid, afterall. Dr. Levi Fisher, eminent Boston surgeon, clever with the Luxor Winnebago, wise old owl, in control. Barring the drunken, homicidal fugue in North Platte, Levi was self-possessed. It was hard to be just kid-fourteen and measure up to that. Anton’s blend of strength and vulnerability is more reassuring.

“Okay, are you listening?” Daniel pauses over the scattered items between them. Fourteen nods. This is Anton’s Surocco. It isn't just the cramped space with two men. It is the work. Even normal things are hard to do: cooking dinner, washing dishes, cleaning clothes. Then, there is the boat work. Perhaps Fourteen thought it might be like a lazy cruise to the enigma of Antigua. In fact, it is hours rearranging the boat, because everyday Anton comes up with another idea about how to make it better. Everyday, there is something important to learn about the realities of live-aboard life.

Today, Anton moved the ketch away from the marina, “No point in paying the mooring fees.” Anton grumbled. He decided Daniel and Fourteen should check all the safety gear. There were the lifejackets and harnesses. Even the man overboard. Anton sips ice tea and ogles his young crew, Fourteen watches as Daniel takes everything out of the emergency pack and lays it out for inspection. Fourteen automatically starts memorizing the contents.

“Okay, last item to check.” Daniel meets Fourteen’s eyes, “We test the EPIRB. you flip this switch. It beeps loudly for a minute, and then if it's working correctly it turns itself off. Otherwise it starts broadcasting it's exact GPS location, signalling the Coast guard Surroco is in trouble and we need rescue.” They are speaking in Spanish with a mixture of English words. This is Daniel’s project, to upgrade Fourteen’s Metzito-Spanish. Daniel grins and flips the switch. “Still working,” Daniel smirks. “I’ll bet he checked it in San Diego while he waited for me.”

That was what made Anton so reassuring. He was Levi-competent about everything, but the man could sail a ketch on the Pacific and let go of control in bed too. Fourteen worried about his desire to relinquish control to another. At Bull Shoals and the Pueblo, people made him feel that he was just a slutty Jackrabbit ready to be fucked. He wants to be a take charge Bobcat people respect. That clashes with needing someone to just carry him away. Anton seems to handle both, as he chooses. That is why he is reassuring. “Let me try to pack it up. You tell me if I do it right.”

Fourteen had not read Sophia’s message. It popped up on his new phone as he was installing apps. This Android is his phone, not his phone. It is the model discarded by Patrick on the midnight, storm-drenched road. It is twin to the phone his mother still leaves beside his bed in Chillicothe. Fourteen knows he has to read the message, just like he had to go back to the bank in La Paz.

Shopping for clothes, phones, and wet gear consumed the first day in La Paz. This was a chance to stretch their legs. Anton led them away from the restaurants close to the beach and up past hacienda-style modern homes fronted by cactus. Then they stumbled onto an organic market near the main cathedral. Fourteen shopped for fresh food, while Daniel and Anton tried a taste from a mescal vendor.  A block off Paseo Alvaro Obregon, Anton walked them past the red and white sign with a name that tweaked Fourteen’s memory: Scotiabank. The three companions turned into Monique, Restaurante Piano Bar for a break.

“Are you okay, Fourteen?” Daniel asked. Fourteen had sat silently over his plate. Fourteen smiled at them both and ate another bite. The bank next door was a reminder of Levi and Antigua. “We won’t try the wetsuit and mask until we head up the coast. Too busy here in La Paz,” Daniel continued. The men were curious about the sudden change in Fourteen’s mood.

“That will be chill,” Fourteen assured Daniel.

It was the next day, when Anton scheduled time at a local business center and Daniel spread his architecture materials across the salon table and bench, that Fourteen decided to head back to the bank. There were no huge hotels in La Paz. Anton went to Swiss-run El Ángel Azul, in a historic building that once served as the town courthouse and jail. He took a presentable room that faced a flower and cacti-filled courtyard with parakeets. It would impress the suits his mother insisted he meet with. Surocco was an indulgence she barely tolerated.

“I’m going to go back into town.” Fourteen told Daniel after Anton left. Daniel, distracted by architecture, reminded him to bring his documents. Fourteen patted his pocket. “Can I get you anything before I go? You won’t move the boat, will you?”

“Anton’s not going to beach you. Is that what’s on your mind? We just got you a phone, do you have it with you?” Fourteen patted his other pocket. He did worry about being abandoned. Every port was another opportunity for Anton to discard him. Men tended to discard Fourteen, and Daniel had only groped his ass a time or two. The shopping trip the day before helped reassure him, but he was the third wheel on the ketch. “Just don’t be long, when Anton gets back, we will shift away from the marina.”

Fourteen found his way back to the bank without the help of his phone. This was where Jeremy Gates goes to prison. “Me gustaría consultar el saldo de mi, mi, mi account.” Fourteen whispered to the teller. He held out the bank card Levi gave him in Arizona. He slid the passport across the counter, conscious of the hidden cameras betraying him to the San Diego police. Jeremy Gates, on the run.

Accounts actually. A trust account Fourteen had no access to, and a chequing account with five thousand dollars. The teller looked at his uncertain face. “Por favor espere, nuestro gerente querrá hablar con usted.”

“Sorry? No entiendo.”

“You need to speak with the manager.”

“Okay,” Fourteen replied, defeated. They would hold him at the bank until the police arrived. Then, it would be back to San Diego and Patrick’s prison-rape victory. Just a race to see if Elvis Parker’s friends get me before I reach the back bunk.

Fourteen left the Scotiabank in La Paz with a new banking app on his phone and a warm smile from the lady managing the branch. Jeremy Gates was not that easily captured. Fourteen had a smile for the world, more money than he imagined, and an intense curiosity to see Antigua.

The Sea of Cortez north of La Paz offers a combination of calm mornings, afternoon breezes from the north. Even in April, the crew of Surocco find the weather agreeable. The water was an azure blue that matched Fourteen’s new shorts. The possibilities for exploration were endless. Anton promises his young men fishing and great snorkeling.

They all have an assigned job to anchor. Anton watches the depth finder and lets out the anchor. He handles the engine and tells his young men what to do. When he finally gets the anchor down, it has to be set. Fourteen watches at the bow. Daniel waits at the stern. There needs to be a second anchor at a 180° to the first. Anton notes a light current running through the anonymous harbour he selected. It is his habit not to trust the main anchor. The engine pays out the bow cable to a spot maybe a hundred and fifty feet from where their first anchor has dug into the bottom. “Okay, good enough,” Anton tells Daniel. His lover drops the second anchor overboard into the clear water.

The small anchor sinks in a froth of bubbles. Daniel decides to dive down and make sure it's secure. He rolls backwards in the water and pulls himself down. The water is full of light all around him. It is cool and if he planned to swim for any length of time, he would want his wetsuit. The anchor is only twelve feet down. Daniel feels the flukes quickly where they dig into the sand and pushes himself straight back up to the light.

“Wait till I kill the engine next time.” Anton is at the stern frowning.

“Sorry!” Daniel grins. “Come on in, it’s a bit cool. Tell the boy to come in too.” Daniel treads water, within arm’s reach of the stern landing.

“Watch all the boy and kid comments around Fourteen.” Anton advises. From experience, Anton imagines their young crew hates it.

“He acts like a kid.” Daniel argues.

“He acts the way people treat him.” Anton sees himself in the youthful Twink. It is hard for Anton to help Daniel understand. His mother and lovers dismissed him as a child long after he had grown. Valerie Avakian still thinks Anton is adolescent; incapable of seriousness. “You're blinded by the media, Dan. You watch some Netflix series where the eighteen-year olds are played by men ten years older. The fifteen-year old girls are eighteen women. You forget what a real eighteen-year old looks like.”

Fourteen propels his body through the cool waters. The small bay is so shallow-warm that he might have discarded the wetsuit. Caution-vanity, Fourteen is not sure which. Daniel insisted he wear the suit they bought in La Paz. Fourteen is easily persuaded. Ever since he saw Slate and Blaze Guthrie wakeboarding on Bull Shoals Lake in their Chris Craft, Fourteen has envied the sexy look. Daniel let Fourteen pick a black Shorty with his signature tangerine-red across the shoulders. Something caution-bright in case he has to be found. It has a sexy pinstripe that swoops down to Fourteen’s crotch. He feels hot as it clings to his form. “I’ll zip you up.” Daniel offers. Fourteen shivers over that, zip me down!

Fourteen skims below the surface, fins very lazy. It is all new to Fourteen. His city pool mask and snorkel were kiddy-toys and the Gates family never flew south to warm waters. Daniel bought the best. Fourteen feels very shark-hunter as he propels toward the white-sand beach. The water flowing past his body nibbles away the stress. How have I lived this long without experiencing this? Fourteen wonders. This is swimming-with-dolphins shit he has only listened to travelling friends describe.

The clarity is stunning. Soft sand ripples just below his reach. Close to shore, it is so shallow that soon Fourteen will run aground. He ends the steady superhuman kicks. His body coasts endlessly below the surface. Life and his heart beat slow down in a good way. It is time to stand.

Fourteen pulls the mask and fins off before he really looks around. The swells lift him gently off the sandy bottom, then he feels his 125 pounds pressing down on his heels. Rust and baked-black rock horseshoes Anton’s chosen bay. Beyond the bright ribbon of un-walked beach, unforgiving rock piles rise like low mountain ranges. Tufts of thirsty grass and quintessential cactus tenaciously fill the spaces in the rubble. The Gulf of California is empty bays, beaches, and valleys of cacti.

Surocco lies at anchor far out in the bay behind him. She sits white on the water. Anton and Daniel are dropping the Zodiak off the stern davits, but the lazy afternoon will be Anton drowsing on his bed and Daniel pouring over John Ronan’s Michigan beach house design. “Look, Anton, it’s a simple square with corners cut away to create protected courtyards. Charred wood siding, AIA liked it. Not high density living, though. The world needs higher density. We need more modular projects like D’Astous’ Le Village Olympique if we are to offer human living.”

“Did I tell you I went to a party there one time? Didn’t D’Astous study at Taliesin East?” Daniel admires the groundbreaking apartment complex in Montreal, so Anton has become an expert on the subject. Anton projects the Renaissance Man for his young companions. Architecture for Daniel, and an encyclopedic knowledge of beautiful young men playing teenagers for Fourteen. “Michael J. Fox, Back to the Future,” Anton points out. Fourteen responds with a blank GenZ stare.

Surocco and the men will wait for him. Supper will wait for Fourteen’s skilled hands. For now, Fourteen wants to sunbathe in solitude. The isolated beach is hardly groomed. In fact, the world’s ubiquitous plastic rot has found its way to paradise. Sun-yellowed plastic is the modern seaweed washed ashore. This is Fourteen’s crowded world, everyone’s blight. He hardly notices. The sun is kissing his body. He strips the wetsuit down to his waist.

Fourteen is not going to think about Sophie’s email. “Your mum and dad are packing sad, really gutted you did not come.” Understanding his new-true friend from New Zealand is as hard as parsing the Spanish Daniel keeps pushing at him. Fourteen gets it. His parents are disappointed in him. Somewhere, Fourteen feels guilty; but a defensive resentment washes all that away. His parents do not know what he has gone through. They are on the sidelines and Fourteen has been literally experiencing-dealing with it on his own. Each ally (not Keon, maybe Sophie) has violated his trust.

The persistence of his parents, how aggravating at the moment. Jeremy Gates needs-expects this bedrock assurance that they care. Only, he feels the offspring-irritation. He is dealing with things and repetitious distraction is a nagging take-out-the-garbage, did-you-do-your-homework deafness in tone right now. Fourteen is going to cruise the coast, discover the world. “Give me a break!” The soft exhalation flutters away from his lips on the parched desert-ocean breeze. Jeremy Gates is dealing with it, so cut him some slack.

It could reach 90f on the beach. The black wetsuit folded down about Fourteen’s hips is raising perspiration. “Daniel, I need some more sunblock.” There is a lascivious smile on Fourteen’s lips. One forearm blocks the Mexican sun. His fingertips drop grains of sand onto his chest as he touches himself. Fingers walk their way down past his navel to the wind-wicked dryness of his pubic tangle. Daniel on the stern, heavy anchor cording the muscles along his arm, making the shoulder flex. Daniel, pulling himself onto the stern platform washed sparkling by the sea. Daniel’s swimsuit clinging to his crotch for that brief glimpse of heavy cock.

Not that anyone is shy; Surocco’s cabins are warm and Anton scorns the air conditioning. Everyone is suggestive-inviting as they move from place to place. Fourteen invites less. He sleeps in a birthday-suit and does not shirk from posing his ass for the men’s benefit as he goes to the foreword head to shower. Anton loves this. Daniel notices. Fourteen’s mouth twitches frustration with a tangerine smirk. The hot nights are long, eavesdropping (cock dripping) on the men’s passion builds frustration-envy. Fourteen consoles his cock in the drowsy Baja sand.

The Zodiak’s light motor wakes Fourteen from guiltless dreams. He lifts himself off the sand to watch Daniel skipping over the turgid swells pushed up by the afternoon’s North Wind. A hand gropes in the sand beside his hip. Less than a week, and Fourteen is slaved to the presence of his phone. He left it on the ketch. Fourteen wipes sand from his arms and torso, lies back down, and rucks the clinging wetsuit farther down his hips. Quick glance, his package is concealed, and the auburn tangle is revealed. Before the motor dies, Fourteen flings his forearm back across his eyes. A trail of cooling scent-sweat trickles from his armpit. Lick a salty upper lip.

“I brought you some things.”

Oh, you’ve surprised me! Fourteen blinks seductively at the man standing over him. “Thanks,” an adolescent voice kills the seductive effect. Daniel drops to his knees with Fourteen’s sunglasses and a steel bottle of (probably) water. Daniel has a bemused smile on his lips and dark wrap-arounds conceal his eyes. Oh hell! Fourteen decides.

Fourteen levitates off the sand without another thought. Chests impact, and as Fourteen’s fingers start clamping Daniel’s scalp, his lips latch onto Daniel’s mouth. The amorous impetuous kiss drives Daniel carelessly down to a slow motion landing on his back. Legs tangle briefly, and then Fourteen is squirming flesh, trying to pin the young man beneath him. His kisses only break to find some fresh angle, some inch of soft flesh or raspy beard to explore-devour. Daniel finds Fourteen’s ass beneath the wetsuit, and like some novice, Fourteen cums on Daniel’s navel.

This kissing lasts fifteen glorious tongue-twisting minutes. There is frot-play because Fourteen’s spent cock thinks beach sex is a glorious thing. His cock planks again, glans masturbating through the man-hair on Daniel’s navel. Fourteen straddles Daniel’s hips. His cock is free of the wetsuit, but his scrotum is still trapped. Anxious fingers tug at Daniel’s waistband. Then, Fourteen falls back on the young man. His tongue spirals chest hair out around Daniel’s nipples. His mouth cannot decide which one it wants. Prisms of quartz pumice-score his tongue as he tastes the textures of man flesh.

Fourteen wants Daniel’s mouth again. He slides up, only to be stopped. Daniel takes his wrists. There is something of a struggle, Fourteen intent on luxuriating on the man’s chest, Daniel pushing him away. Daniel wins and the Bobcat ends rampant across Daniel’s hips. The paired hands dance between them like some shadow exercise. Fourteen tests Daniel’s hold, jerking a forearm toward a muscled shoulder. He tries his other hand. Daniel holds him easily enough, and Fourteen is not really trying. Their eyes are locked together, mutually inscrutable. Finally, Daniel lets Fourteen break the hold when Fourteen pulls his arms back. Daniel’s hands stay frozen, reaching toward the boy. Fourteen’s arms are raised in sort of a surrender. The heat touches them both.

Fourteen slowly lowers his arms and reaches back to lightly finger Daniel’s legs. He thrusts his groin out. The hard erection standing almost vertical from Daniel’s groin. It is like he is already impaled on the man’s length. It is very suggestive, so inviting. Daniel’s hands begin to stroke Fourteen’s hairless-hard torso. He pinches a nipple and that only makes Fourteen close his eyes for a moment. Fourteen’s fingers probe up Daniel’s shorts.

Daniel wants to ask the questionable eighteen-year-old questions. Before he took the Zodiak to shore, he searched Fourteen’s things again. The young man has locked his new phone and the iPod has vanished to some hiding place. Too many places to look. Anton has virtually rearranged the whole boat since leaving San Diego. The stowage and bilges have been tossed thoroughly; only, the Cabin Boy has been a part of that.

Daniel scoops a handful of sand and lightly masterbates it about Fourteen’s hard cock. The resulting smile is animal-orgasmic. Daniel follows that up with a spray of sand on the too-young man’s chest. Fourteen is waiting-wanting to be used by a man.

Daniel usually says something to his partner at this point. Anton likes a growled promise. Nothing too insulting, but Anton invites praise. Anton is a power bottom, but he likes a certain callous disregard at times. Chatty Fourteen is predatory silent across Daniel’s hips. The young man’s ass is riding Daniel like he could take charge. Fourteen’s eyes repeat the silent message he flings walking naked to the shower, What are you waiting for?”

No words between them then, Daniel will wait out the silence. His arm crosses over Fourteen’s bare waist. A powerful sweep sends his young partner to the sand beside him. Fourteen throws a glance up at him as if he is insulted. The young bottom is ready though, Daniel knows he is.

Fourteen’s hard cock is sandpapering into the beach. If he had half a mind (it’s stripped away), he might register that beach sex is a dicey thing involving sand in awkward places. It does not matter. What matters is Daniel tugging his wetsuit off. What matters is Daniel’s cock poised to penetrate his sweat-lubricated anus.

The young man’s slender muscles under toasted skin ripple. Clenched buttocks dimple as Daniel skins Fourteen. He notices Fourteen’s fuzzy Hobbit-calves and the sparse-bleached hair on thighs and ass. Daniel has a flashback to a high school romance. The supple-hard-live flow from tense thighs to Fourteen’s bunched shoulders ignites Daniel’s hard response. Daniel is catapulted back to primal-seventeen, stepped back to his lost virginal urgency. Anton’s Cabin-Boy-cock-tease already tastes first-time fresh.

Daniel’s broken-cherry-moment was a mindless-determination to fuck an ass; leave a high school New Year’s Eve drunk bro-brag-worthy un-virgined. The said ass to fuck was handy-willing-wasted. It was all very much like those final urgent fist-pumps when you gain your necessary release in the shower. The dude had no idea what Daniel was about to give him.

Daniel nuzzles his cock against the pursed-lip, sand-salted offering. Smooth buns, but the cleft between is populated with Fourteen’s darker hairs. A thrust, pull back for spit, a friction-burn disregard that forces his length into Fourteen’s warm rectum. Fourteen submits to this with a tenor whine. Daniel grunts satisfaction. No protection-lubrication, sorry, Daniel’s roaming hands and grunt suggest. It doesn’t matter! Fourteen’s arched back replies.

Daniel rides the bareback now, short stroke-stings because this is thoughtless beach sex and the coupling is not a paced for camera romance movie. This is the sort of sex where Fourteen’s forehead sweats salt-sting into his eyes and a licked lip catches teeth-eroding prisms. Toes and fingers grip sand, tickle-traces of beach fall off both their bodies. Small stones get in the way.

“You like that, do you?” Daniel asks as if he were talking to Anton. Bobcat answers with a spit to clear the beach from his mouth. They are still introducing themselves. Things are lost in the first translation. Fourteen will not respond with the encouragement-praise Daniel has grown accustomed to. Fourteen is meeting this first copulation with a silent intensity. Daniel’s vice grip invites two long strokes, then at the apex, Daniel cums.

This is lubricant of sorts, Daniel and Fourteen use it to milk the man’s orgasm out for a dozen more dramatic thrusts. Fourteen is feeling it like a necessary back scratch. Daniel scoops some sand and trickles it across Fourteen’s upper back. Palms spread it around, then rub along Fourteen’s ribs. Fourteen imagines a palmed aggregate scouring his erect nipple. Fourteen imagines many possibilities on the beach (and elsewhere).

Daniel pulls out and actually slaps Fourteen’s butt as if he had just dismounted a horse. He takes a swig from the steel water bottle and offers it to Fourteen. Fourteen drinks deep, then hands it back. Fourteen shakes his (dry) wetsuit off and folds it like a pillow. Then he stretches out beside the man. Daniel absently begins to brush the sand off Fourteen’s body.

First impressions, Daniel thought Fourteen (Kale Euler) vanity-shaved like Anton. Anton shaves, trims, plucks this and that to hold on to some Twink perfection Daniel has never known. This eighteen-year-old Cabin Boy is todo natural. There is no shave stubble on his chest, no wisps of chest hair beginning around his small areolas. Even the treasure trail explorers emigrating from his thick bush to navel are still arguing about the trek. His inner thighs are just beginning to thicken. He fucks like a man, Daniel knows.

Daniel is more generous and experienced than Inez Montreal back at the Pueblo (making things up to Samuel Faulkner). She thought gay meant virgin. Daniel has met-had all types since his drunken first fuck in high school. He has a harmless bias. There are dom-tops and sub-bottoms. Some gay men can’t make up their mind (at first), but if they like the hard penetration, then they are submissive bottoms. Daniel knows how to handle bottoms. It is a harmless misapprehension.

Daniel is a service top. Anton is very much the queen sitting on his cock-throne. Anton controls their coupling even from the bottom. Daniel believes the older man likes it this way. Daniel was not sure about Fourteen. Anton hardly needs another bottom on the boat. Another top would suit him very well. Anton is generous and kind. This young man might be a gift to Daniel’s manhood. Anton never said. The new Ménage à trios leaves Daniel uncertain. Fucking the kid resolves that. There is only one top in Surocco. He understands Fourteen’s place in things: Anton’s generous consolation for his Chicago failure.

“You liked that?” Daniel asks Fourteen playfully-aggressive in the after-glow.

Fourteen looks at Daniel’s hunky magnificence skeptically.”Bet” he shrugs the unnecessary question off. “That slaps.” Daniel cocks his head, uncomprehending. “Yeah, Daniel; I liked that.” Fourteen elaborates. He frowns and reaches for the discarded sunglasses. He lies back on his wetsuit. Are we sharing feelings? He asks himself. (Fucking) Cordell betrayed feelings out of the sexual equation. Jeremy Gates is telling himself, Let’s not have feelings. Levi Fisher taught him sensations. Fourteen will settle for exchanging sensations.

“Just to be clear, I don’t get fucked.” Daniel clarifies, dropping fresh sand across the young man’s body.

“Okay,” comes from behind the shades. An amused smile flickers across Fourteen’s lips.

“I’m not dissing you or Anton for liking it. I tried it with my first boyfriend. It’s your thing, just not my thing.” Daniel adds encouragingly, “I like that it’s your thing, fits with my thing pretty good.” Daniel laughs self-deprecatingly. There is a smile playing across Fourteen's lips. Daniel feels the youth on the sand does not understand his feelings. He looks away from Fourteen’s easy nudity. Surocco lies gracefully on the water. “We fit together, Anton and me. He’s really amazing.”

“His boat is amazing.”

“He is amazing! Anton knows everything about sailing. You need to understand, Anton. I met him when I was just finishing an internship with a firm. Mirage Property Advisors, that’s Anton’s company; one of his companies. So, this firm I was working for, they took Mirage to see Prairie Crossing.”

Daniel scrunches closer to Fourteen’s reclined presence and begins brushing the sand off. Fourteen lies with a self-satisfied smile, loving the attention.

“It is a huge project. I’m not into urban planning, not really. The style is uninteresting too: very safe-suburban. I’m interested in higher density architecture. Bosco Verticale, Oh my God, I’d kill to design something like that. The future is sustainable density, not suburban sprawl. Anton agrees with me.”  

“But this development in Illinois is committed to minimizing its impact on the environment; which is good, right? The developers preserved 60 percent of the prairie, wetlands and organic farmland. Too many single-family houses, some condos, nothing high density. Just shops and cafés adding to more wasteful urban sprawl.”

Daniel recalls the moment Anton and he connected. Anton was bored with the minutia being spewed by the lead presenters. With little else to do, Daniel had faded into the background. Anton seemed another superfluous person like himself. The vibe between them was instant. Anton let him know that this presentation was for his benefit. “We really know all this, Geothermal-powered school with LEED classrooms. Greenhouses, Energy Star, everything is Energy Star now.” Anton seemed bored. Later, Daniel understood that Anton was a Big Picture man. Anton was an entrepreneur who left execution to competent people he hired. “Your name is Daniel Ayers.” It was a confident statement, not a question. Daniel remembers tingling with excitement as the older man appraised the possibilities. “What do you think, Daniel Ayers?”

Anton and Daniel trailed behind the herd. Daniel talked, Anton listened. All Daniel’s convictions and half-formed goals tumbled out. “We will talk more over dinner at my hotel.” Anton decided with a warm smile.

“Anton is into everything.” Daniel assures the pretty youth beside him. He is glad Anton decided to bring the teenager with them. He did not need a bottom-bribe to keep him happy. This cruise is a honeymoon of sorts, but Anton’s obvious infatuation with Fourteen is more manageable than the powerful man’s roaming hands inviting a train of Latino studs in his bed (ass) at every port.

“Avakian Fisher Empirical is where Anton started. Scientific instrumentation, reagents and consumables, and software and services to healthcare.” Anton explained this all over their first dinner at Anton’s Chicago hotel. “There are laboratories in universities and government, biotechnology and pharmaceuticals.” Daniel watches the steady rise and fall of Fourteen’s diaphragm. School dropout, somewhat mysterious background and intentions. Fourteen looks like the cute boy next door. Fucks like a $500 escort, Anton assures Daniel with a coy challenge. The boy switches like my first boyfriend, Daniel decides.

“Fisher?” Fourteen breaks his silence. “Not Schroeder?”

“Avakian is Anton’s mother’s maiden name. I guess she kept it, actually. “Avakian was founded by her father. Anton tells me his grandfather was some MIT engineer, Harvard Business School graduate. Anton’s mother merged with some small New England firm making laboratory equipment; kept Fisher in the name because she liked the man.”

“Six billion in combined revenues.” Daniel adds with vicarious pride. “It keeps expanding.” Anton is on Surocco’s deck. He waves at Daniel, signalling they should join him. Daniel lifts his hand off Fourteen’s chest and waves back. “Anton’s mother is getting old, I think he runs everything now.” Anton is stretching out the kinks on the ketch’s stern. It is not that Anton has told Daniel he runs the old woman’s empire. It is just Anton will slip I and we into his casual references to Avakian Fisher Empirical’s activities. We have a new plant around Tornillo. We thought it needed something sustainable for the workers, Anton explained to Daniel as they followed the herd around Prairie Crossing. Anton let Daniel brush the back of his hand along his flank. Anton and Daniel did not fuck that first date, but it was promised in Anton’s soft touches. Daniel remembers the thrill of that first encounter.

The brush against his flank is another invitation. The boy needs regular fucking. Daniel bends over the sassy lips and resumes kissing Fourteen. The kiss is Daniel’s promise. “You should put your wetsuit back on.” Daniel advises Fourteen. He reaches for his discarded shorts.

“I’m too hot to wear the wetsuit.” Fourteen responds. He rolls on his side and slides a foot along his leg. The sun-softened cock and scrotum sag toward the beach. Fourteen bites his lower lip in self reflection.

Daniel laughs. “Are you coming back with me in the Zodiak, or swimming back?”

“Hmmm,” Fourteen ponders. “I’ll just wash off and cum with you.”