*
Hiroshi held the frail piece of rice paper tightly as the wind tried to pry it from him. He passed under the last orange and black torii gate and emerged from the fiery tunnel into the serenity of the clearing. He had not been back since that night, and he returned today with trepidation and the smallest hope.
The irises were blooming again, dotting the perimeter with purple as the sun sparkled across the calm lake. He looked at the piece of paper, reading the directions carefully. Knowing who sent the note, but not how it had found him, he counted four posts from the right, and saw lashed to it with a scarlet ribbon a knee-high torii gate, shiny and new, its coat of paint gleaming to shame the sunshine. He read the vertical writing down its poles: on the left side
Hiroshi Yoshida
, his name in shiny black letters. And on the right, dark as the blackest ink, the words
Choose
and
Remember
.
As he sat by himself, Daniel popped the top on his third beer and took a swallow. The ocean was so much better at night, the crash of the waves, the moonlight glimmering in a band across the black water, the absence of crowds.
Senior class trip, Azalea Beach, South Carolina. Daniel snorted. He should be at a party right now. He ought to be getting drunk with his buddies. He was supposed to be having sex. That was the point of spring break. But Daniel was alone, as usual. An outsider. An exile. Timid. Frail. Socially lacking.
He never should have let Elliott convince him to come. Elliott who, an hour ago, had thrown Daniel out of their hotel room after somehow managing to score a blind-drunk college sophomore who would most certainly kick herself in the morning when she woke up, hungover, in Elliott’s bed.
Daniel drank his beer, smoothed a bit of sand off his towel, and stared out at the shimmering water. The later it got, the fewer people remained. Mostly couples walking at the edge of the surf, holding hands, often carrying flashlights, pale yellow beams that swept back and forth.
About twenty yards down the beach, someone else sat in the dry sand above the boundary of high tide. Daniel could see the shape silhouetted in the backlight of the hotels lining the shore but couldn’t make out any details.
It was nice to think that there was someone else as alone as he was.
Throughout high school, Daniel had been interested in various boys. Mostly jocks who insisted they were straight and publicly gave him, at best, a sneering glance, or at worst, a beating. No one Daniel wanted ever wanted him. Not for long, anyway. No longer than a few sweaty minutes in an empty locker room or a clumsy half hour behind the bleachers on the field.
Daniel was fair, slender and small-boned, not really feminine but certainly not masculine. He liked how he looked, imagined himself pretty and unusual. No one seemed to share his opinion, however, at least no one he had met in the course of his eighteen years. In the past several months, Daniel had fallen in with a few other outcasts who didn’t fit anywhere else, and he planned to follow fellow-pariah Elliott to Concord University in the fall.
Daniel was an only child whose drunken mother had drowned in the bathtub when he was four. His father was a verbally abusive man who liked to fall asleep with a six-pack in front of the TV. College was a chance to get away, made possible by a lottery scholarship Daniel had qualified for. He was set to room with Elliott who was, sadly, Daniel’s best friend. They tolerated one another, but as Elliott filled out in his masculinity, Daniel grew more fragile and pale and insubstantial. Blurry around the edges in a way that made Daniel more comfortable in isolation and less a part of anyone else around him.
Shit, he was depressing himself.
Daniel finished his beer and looked down to wrest another can from the plastic webbing that bound them. When he raised his head, someone was standing over him.
“Oh,” Daniel said, looking up the tight, ripped jeans to a body-hugging black T-shirt and a gorgeous guy gazing down.
“May I?” he said as he sat next to Daniel on the towel.
“Sure.” The floodlights from the hotel behind them illuminated the guy’s glossy black hair. He was almost the same size as Daniel but with a defined, well-built body noticeable beneath his snug clothing.
Leaning back, Daniel saw that the person who had sat on the beach was gone.
“You’ve been watching me.” The guy smiled a wide, lazy smile and squinted his eyes at Daniel.
The beers had given Daniel a considerable buzz, eliminating the nervousness he would otherwise have felt in the presence of someone so good-looking, but he was sober enough to recognize that his new acquaintance was high on something.
“You want a beer?” Daniel said, holding up his two unopened cans.
The guy shook his head, then raised a graceful hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
“Are you down here on spring break, too?” Daniel asked.
“No.”
“Then you’re from around here?”
“No.” The guy laughed softly and looked out at the ocean.
His black hair hung long and thick down his back, and he had the loveliest skin Daniel had ever seen, flawless and lustrous, the color of champagne. His face was delicately featured. Yet a long, sinewy neck met shoulders that looked strong and arms that were lean and muscled just enough. He had drawn up his knees to his chest and sat hugging them. With a jolt of lust, Daniel admired the flexed bicep that was close enough to lick.
“You like watching me,” the guy whispered, lips curving up into another luscious smile.
A rush of heat flooded Daniel’s face, so he put his nearly forgotten beer to his mouth and drank in hard swallows.
When the can was empty, he crushed it and said, “My name’s Daniel.”
“Nikolos. With a k-o-l-o-s. Call me Nik.”
“Okay, Nik.” Daniel tried to think of something else to say, something clever and disarming. But he wasn’t drunk enough to be either one.
Nik pulled his long hair into a ponytail. Then he stretched, extending his arms straight above his head, and unfolded gracefully to lie on his back, apparently unconcerned that the lower half of his body was in the sand.
Daniel looked down at him, leaned a little too far, and nearly took a header into the guy’s face.
“Careful.” Laughing, Nik caught him with both hands on Daniel’s shoulders.
Fingers firm, grip sure, eyes darker than the night. Daniel gazed down into those eyes, hypnotized, giddy, and felt himself falling again, swallowed up by sweet black magic.
“Are you okay?”
Daniel blinked stupidly and straightened up. “Yeah. I guess I’m a little drunk.”
An uncomfortable silence fell, so Daniel detached another can and said, “Sure you don’t want a beer? I’ve got two more.”
“I don’t drink…beer.” Nik smiled and his teeth glinted against the blush of his lips. “Well, maybe a taste,” he said.
Then Nik pushed up on one arm and kissed Daniel on the mouth.
The kiss was soft and brief and stunning. The beer can almost slipped out of Daniel’s hand. He felt hot and tingly all over.
Nik twisted around so he could lie on the length of the towel.
Daniel sat frozen, staring out at the water, unsure of what to do. Until feathery fingers brushed across his arm and Nik said, low and insistent, “Come here.”
The command thrilled Daniel. He tossed his can aside and rolled onto his hands and knees.
Nik gazed up at him, pupils huge and dilated by whatever drug he was on. He smiled and reached to lock his arms around Daniel, drawing him down, fusing their mouths together. He opened Daniel’s lips with his tongue and licked up into him. Nik’s skin was cool but Daniel was burning up, as electric fire spread through him, curling his toes and making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
Clutching Daniel, Nik pulled their chests together, and in one swift movement, flipped them over. Nik’s tight, powerful body was on top of Daniel’s now, straddling him, pinning him firmly.
A pang of fear struck Daniel as he realized they weren’t exactly concealed with all the artificial lighting. “What if somebody sees?”
“Nobody cares,” Nik said, smiling wider, teeth insanely pointed, and flicked his tongue in the corner of his mouth.
Cool fingers stroked up under Daniel’s shirt, quelling his apprehension, as Nik kissed him again, mouth open and running with saliva. Nik tasted faintly of licorice, sweet and fragrant, refreshing as summer rain. Daniel trailed his hands across the smooth hardness of Nik’s shoulders, pressed down into his back, tangled up into his hair.
Nik sucked on Daniel’s lips, then moved to kiss his jaw, suck his ear, lick his neck.
“I want to eat you up,” Nik whispered, sliding fingers across Daniel’s belly, deftly unfastening his pants. “I want to drink you down.” Slipping a hand into his underwear. “I want to suck you off.”
Daniel jerked with pleasure at Nik’s touch. Then Nik bit hard into his throat, and Daniel’s arousal exploded away into a blinding flash of pain as everything turned cold and dark and numb.
*
Sunlight sparkled on the water as Daniel came to. Head throbbing, he sat up and groaned, wondering why the hell he had been sleeping on the beach. Blinking at the blinding glare, he realized that he must have passed out. Daniel remembered a hot guy striking up a conversation with him last night but couldn’t recall anything else. Except drinking almost an entire six-pack of beer by himself.
Daniel rubbed his face, dislodging a crust of sand on his cheek, and tried to get to his feet. His stomach flipped with all the moving around and the waves made him want to throw up. He closed his eyes, but blackness spun in his head, so he opened them again. Breathing deeply, he sat very still for several minutes, watching a lifeguard unfold umbrellas to plant them in a line of reserved chairs. The man was edging closer, so to avoid a possible hassle, Daniel forced himself to stand, and walked slowly back to his hotel.
*
Coffee and food settled his stomach; thankfully, he only had a splitting headache not a full-blown hangover. After a shower, Daniel spent the rest of the afternoon walking the beach, wondering whether…whatshisname…Nik, that was it. Wondering whether Nik would acknowledge Daniel if they ran into one another. Because Daniel had the feeling that they had hit it off, and he was hoping, probably in vain, that they could maybe hook up before Daniel had to go back home.
The sun started to go down, and as Daniel searched, speculation turned to need, and hope bloomed into longing. Bits and pieces of the night before flickered in Daniel’s memory. The way Nik had approached him. The way Nik had caught him when he started to fall. The way Nik had—had Nik kissed him? With a rush, Daniel thought he remembered Nik brushing his lips, soft and enticing, right before Daniel had stupidly passed out.
The moon rose, and in the glare of the hotels Daniel saw someone walking toward him. It had to be Nik. A gust of excitement filled Daniel, his heartbeat quickened, and he grinned, surprised at how happy he felt.
“You came back,” Nik said. His eyebrows knitted together and indecipherable emotion moved across his face.
“Of course I did.”
The look puzzled Daniel. Uncertainty brought nervousness. Nervousness led to fear. And all Daniel’s insecurities swooped in. Daniel had been drunk. Nik hadn’t kissed him. It was all drunken fantasy.
No one Daniel wanted ever wanted him.
“I mean, you know, I like to sit out here and watch the ocean.”
Nik’s eyes went flat as he nodded and continued walking.
“Wait.” A mad hope filled Daniel and he caught Nik’s arm, stepping around to block his path. “I wanted to see you again.”
Nik frowned.
Daniel’s heart leapt in his throat. Going for broke, he said, “I want to be with you.” Then he lost all his words and dropped his head as fear choked him.
Nik put his fingers beneath Daniel’s chin and gently lifted his face. Their bodies were so close, and the fragrance of licorice grazed Daniel. Nik’s fingers slid up the edge of Daniel’s jaw, stroked the side of his neck, as Nik’s other hand rose to touch his cheek. Nik traced Daniel’s lips with his thumb as his gaze swept across him, settled on his mouth.
Heart pounding, Daniel looked into the midnight of Nik’s eyes and felt himself diminish, absorbed into Nik, consumed by Nik.
Reeling, Daniel sighed as Nik leaned in and kissed him.
That mouth, so sweet, so familiar, stealing his breath and taking his strength, making his knees go weak. They had kissed before. Daniel remembered. And this felt like coming home, this felt like love and family and finally belonging.
As their lips parted, Daniel whispered, “Let me stay with you.”
Smiling, Nik took his hand and pulled him along the beach, south past the pier to the shadows of the park that closed at nightfall. Away from any people, where there was no manmade illumination, only the faint glow of the moon.
The shadow of Nik dropped gracefully and pulled Daniel down on top of him. Daniel caught himself, palms and knees landing on a blanket or a towel, something soft and free of sand. Nik’s hands ran up Daniel’s sides, curled around his back, tugging his shirt out of his pants. Fingers slipped under the fabric and drifted across Daniel’s flesh.