By Quarry Lake (2 page)

Rob wanted to
lick the water from his face, trying for a taste of Tommy. This was
torture, wasn’t it? Deliberate torture for one foolish mistake
three years ago.

His lower lip
throbbed, reminding him of the consequences of that stupid kiss.
Yes, he had to remember that. The horror in Tommy’s eyes, and the
pain of his fist colliding with Rob’s face.

It would save
him from ever making the same mistake again.

***

Tommy shivered
and gasped. Quarry Lake was nothing like the public baths in
Croydon. Bloody hell, how had Tommy forgotten how the cold water
caressed every inch of his body, energising him every bit as much
as it chilled? You could dive without goggles, no chlorine to burn
your eyes. And when you surfaced, you swam up towards the clear
sky, swallows flitting high above in their graceful dance.

And more to the
point, there was Rob, just over there and definitely due a dunking.
Fuck, but he looked good. Face and forearms deeply tanned, damp
hair stuck to his forehead. Green eyes echoing the water they were
swimming in. Rob smiled, but it wasn’t the carefree grin Tommy was
craving. The one he remembered. There was something guarded about
Rob’s expression. Something Tommy could only blame himself for.

Screw it, he
didn’t know how to make this right. Plan A had been to just blurt
it all out. Find a natural place to introduce it into the
conversation.
Oh, and by the way, I am gay after all. And
totally single since I broke up with my boyfriend. Wanna crawl up
onto those rocks and fuck each other’s brains out?

Tommy snorted.
Like there was any way he could say any of that with Rob looking at
him like he was little better than a stranger. And besides, that
would make it all sound so impersonal. Like Rob was just a
convenient body, rather than someone he’d yearned for all these
years.

Plan B it was,
then. Tommy dived down under the water, striking out for the deeps
before flipping round to peer up for a shark’s vision of his prey.
There he was, legs kicking powerfully . Rob looked almost too solid
to swim. Like he was carved out of marble and should sink to the
bottom, but there he was, flesh and blood.

Don’t think
too hard about flesh and blood.

Tommy stopped
fighting the water and let himself rise, aiming for Rob’s legs. He
caught one, wrapped his hands around a pillar of muscle and hairy,
goosebumped skin. He yanked down, not far. Just enough to dunk
Rob’s head under the water for a second.

Letting go was
tough when every part of him screamed to hold on. But that wouldn’t
be much of a game, so he kicked away and surfaced a few feet away,
just out of reach.

“Bastard!” Rob
exclaimed, but this time when he looked Tommy’s way his grin was
the one he remembered, wide and sunny. “You’re in for it now.”

“Can’t catch
me. I’ve been training.” Tommy snatched a breath and ducked under
the water again.

And this time
Rob followed.

Tommy let
himself be caught. Rob’s strong hands closed around his calf. It
was almost perfect—if he’d only move his grip higher. Tommy made a
token effort at getting away, but he didn’t want to. Not when those
calloused hands were holding him like that, making him imagine
other places they could grasp.

Good thing the
water was so bloody freezing.

Tommy gripped
onto a handhold in the rock and turned. He tried to smile and air
bubbled out of his mouth. Rob was there, ripples of sunlight
playing across his skin. Tommy couldn’t stop himself staring at
every part of Rob. The wide shoulders, his thickly muscled torso,
the line across his belly where the slight tan of his torso gave
way to alabaster. Tommy let his gaze drift lower. The cold water
meant Rob didn’t look as large as he remembered from the school
showers, but even so, his dick made an impressive statement. Tommy
wanted to touch it. Lick it. Taste it. Discover how big and warm it
would get in his mouth. Feel that thick girth stretching him
wide.

Did Rob like to
top? Or would he let Tommy… No, best not think about that
deliciously fuckable arse. Even a bucketful of ice-cubes on his
groin wouldn’t help him then.

Tommy panned
back to Rob’s eyes and knew he’d been caught looking. But
underwater, this didn’t feel like the outside world. Normal rules
didn’t apply down here. In the water there was no sound. No idle
words to screw things up. Just their bodies.

And Tommy’s
burning lungs.

Okay, time to
really start playing. Tommy kicked free of Rob’s grasp and made for
the silvery surface. Once there he pushed out for Treasure Island.
It was just a rock. No sand to actually bury anything, but that
hadn’t made the slightest difference to their childhood games.

Tommy hauled
himself up and waited for Rob. There he was, swimming to join him.
His breaststroke was no match for Tommy’s crawl, but there was
something wonderfully deliberate about Rob’s swimming. Used to
watching fellow swim team members glide through the water like
eels, Tommy found Rob’s splashy stroke refreshing. It felt like an
extension of him. Solid and dependable.

Thinking of all
things solid, Tommy’s cock was starting to shake off the effects of
the cold dip. Good thing or bad thing? Rob had been interested
once, but who was to say he hadn’t found some other muscled farm
boy to mess around with? Or worse yet, fall in love with.

Tommy swallowed
the unpleasant taste at the back of his mouth. No, he’d have heard
if Rob was in a relationship, right? And there’d been no gossip
down the Crown last night. Not even about a girlfriend, making it
appear Rob was still firmly lodged in the closet. Couldn’t blame
him though. Old fashioned father like that and a bunch of farmers
for friends, who’d teased Tommy for being “gay” at school just
because he preferred art to team sports.

Rob reached
Treasure Island and began hoisting himself up. It would be too easy
to stay and watch those strong arms bulge, but Tommy skipped across
the rock and poised for a dive. “Can’t catch me,” he taunted, and
arced into the water.

He’d lead Rob a
merry dance across the lake, and land them both exhausted at their
final destination. What happened next would be anyone’s guess.

***

At some point
over the last three years, Tommy had transformed into a merman.
There was no other explanation. He’d always been a strong swimmer,
but now he could hold his breath far longer than Rob, hiding in the
deeps, before slicing through the water. And there weren’t any
hiding places in Quarry Lake that Rob didn’t know about, but still
Tommy managed to keep one arm’s length ahead of him at all times.
Occasionally he’d catch his ankle for a fleeting moment, but unlike
the first time, Tommy slipped away with ease.

What had that
been about, anyway? Tommy staring at him underwater like that.
Bloody confusing, was what it was. Straight blokes probably had no
idea what a tease it was. Like the times his old man took on extra
labour for big jobs around the farm—lads from the local towns and
villages—and the hired hands would strip to the waist, baring
tattoos, muscles and sweaty patches of hair. Rob had taken to
wearing mirrored wrap-around shades at those times, so he wouldn’t
get caught looking.

Did it matter
if he looked at Tommy now? He was already getting an eyeful of taut
glutes and long legs as Tommy swam away from him underwater.

Rob bobbed up,
gulped another breath and then ducked back under to follow.

Tommy was at
the opposite side of the lake now, just leaning back casually
against the quarry wall like he had gills or something. Only the
tight grip of his hands on a fissure in the rock showed he was
fighting his natural buoyancy just like Rob was.

As Rob drew
closer, he had to wonder if the lounging pose was deliberate. Could
Tommy have arranged himself more seductively if he’d tried? One leg
was bent at the knee, the other stretched out to full length.
Tommy’s overlong hair drifted around his head like a seaweed halo,
making him look even more like a creature of the deep. His eyes
glowed like the pre-dawn sky, the palest of blues. The sunlight
rippled over his body in lazy waves, and all Rob’s willpower had to
go into stopping him following that treasure trail down to Tommy’s
groin.

Rob’s cock
began to stir. So unfair! He should start keeping shorts out here.
Hide them under a rock or something. He’d have to if Tommy was
around for a bit and this weather held.

The need for
air forced Rob to surface before he even reached Tommy. He pushed
his hair back and blinked away the water from his eyes.

A splash
sounded behind him, and Rob started, turning clumsily.

“Hey old girl,
what are you up to?” Lex had jumped in, but then clambered straight
back out again. These days she wasn’t up for staying in the water
long, but she certainly still enjoyed getting wet and then shaking
it all off again.

“Oi, you given
up already?” Tommy taunted, and Rob turned back to see him standing
on the ledge of Smugglers’ Cove. “You’ve gone soft, Carver.”

“I’m bloody
exhausted,” Rob protested. “Been up since five this morning.
Milking, feeding, mending fences.”

“Time for a
rest, then? Hope you’ve still got snacks in here.” Tommy turned
away and walked into the cave they’d once played pirates in. The
cave Rob now used as his secret summer base for stolen breaks
during the heat of the day. He’d even stashed a couple of ancient
porn mags in there.

Oh shit.

“Hang on a
second. Wait for me!” Rob swam as fast as he could, but it wasn’t
anything like fast enough if he’d left the magazines where he
thought he had.
Shit, shit, shit.

Oh well. It
wasn’t like Tommy didn’t already know or anything. It was just a
shame to spoil the whole truce by him getting weirded out
again.

But when Rob
finally got to the shallow rock at the entrance to the “cove” and
pulled himself out of the water, it was to find Tommy leaning back
against the cave wall, stark bollock naked with a dog-eared copy of
Mandate in one of his hands and a can of Skol in the other. He’d
found the towel but instead of wrapping it around himself he’d used
it to cushion the rock under his arse.

Do not think
about Tommy’s arse!

Rob stood
there, conflicting urges fighting it out somewhere in his guts. One
demanded he walk on over and plonk himself down next to Tommy; the
other whispered at him to run away while he still could.

“This guy
reminds me of someone and I can’t think who,” Tommy said, turning
the page around so he could see the picture of the slim,
dark-haired bloke being sucked off by a muscle bear. Yeah, Rob
liked that one. Liked it a lot. Shit. What if he’d got spunk on the
pages?

Rob searched
Tommy’s face for any sign of panic or derision, but all he could
see was a mischievous smile, much like when they’d been playing
underwater tag. Okay. Safe to go and walk over there. Probably. So
long as he didn’t get wood. Which would be tough with both naked
Tommy and his favourite porn mag in the same place.

“Come on. We’ll
have to share the beer as you’ve only got one left. I’ll bring some
more later.”

Rob walked over
and stood awkwardly while Tommy handed him the can. His dick
couldn’t cope with the sight of naked Tommy down there. Mouth way
too close to bear. It was like one of his favourite fantasies come
true.

A groan slipped
out of Rob’s throat despite his best efforts to choke it, and he
hunkered down next to Tommy, hoping the combination of a
strategically placed arm and his raised legs would shield any sign
of his growing arousal. Not that he could do anything about the
heat spreading up his chest. Any moment now his cheeks would blaze
and he’d be powerless to stop them. Tommy couldn’t not notice that,
although perhaps he’d just put it down to Rob’s habitual
awkwardness.

He took a swig
of lager but that didn’t help, not when he could still feel the
residual heat of Tommy’s lips stored in the aluminium can.

“So, what do
you reckon? Who does he remind you of?” Tommy brandished the
magazine again, pointing at the younger bloke, and Rob choked on
the beer. Couldn’t say it was Tommy himself, could he? They shared
the same slight build and dark hair, and a certain something about
the set of their jaw.

“Dunno. Someone
at school?” he mumbled before taking another swig of warmish
lager.

Tommy frowned
in concentration. “Don’t think so. I’m wondering if he’s the same
model I saw in a porno one time.”

“Umm... I don’t
think gay models usually do straight porn.” He’d never recognised
any in the flicks his other mates had inflicted on him over the
years. The guys in those were usually pretty repulsive, to be
honest, although some of them had nice dicks.

“Nah. I doubt
it. But I was thinking of a Bel Ami film I used to watch.”

Rob inhaled
beer, coughing and spluttering while Tommy patted him on the back.
And even when Rob’s diaphragm had calmed, Tommy’s hand remained,
circling slowly on his skin.

He raised his
head and met Tommy’s steady gaze.

What the hell
was going on?

***

Tommy kept
moving his hand, wondering how long it would take for Rob to twig.
He should blurt it all out, but for some reason the words were so
fucking hard to say. What if Rob got angry with him for being such
a coward three summers ago?

But he hadn’t
known for sure back then.

The confusion
lurked in Rob’s eyes and worse yet, he started to flinch away,
speaking in a hoarse voice. “You watched a... How come? Bel Ami’s
gay, right? They haven’t started doing straight stuff too, have
they?”

Okay.
Confession time, and he couldn’t have asked for a better opening.
“Not that I know of. My, uh, my boyfriend had it saved on his hard
drive. Along with about a gazillion other films he’d downloaded on
a file-sharing site.”