A New Beginning (Orlijah) R (3/?)
Mar. 6th, 2011 11:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: A New Beginning (3/?)
Author:
moit
Pairing: Shy/Sandy
Fandom: Haven/Flipper crossover
Summary: Sandy, a bright sunny boy spending the summer in the Cayman Islands, falls into the lap of Shy, a quiet dockhand.
Rating: hard R
Genre: Romance, angst
Warnings: mentions of past violence
Word Count: 3,398
Previous Chapters here

As Shy waited on the porch for Patrick, his nerves started to get the best of him. He hadn’t been to a party since the night he saw Andrea fucking some guy in that toilet. Then he had the fight with Hammer . . .
Shy wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to the party. Patrick’s words when he called had been, “No, absolutely not.” It took a bit of convincing on Shy’s part, but Patrick eventually agreed, on the condition that he’d drag Shy out of there by his “shaggy black head if anything happens.” Shy agreed without question. He didn’t want this to blow up in his face (literally) any more than Patrick did.
Patrick’s Mini pulled into the drive and Shy jumped up. He opened the door and greeted Patrick with a half-smile.
“Thank you for doing this.”
Patrick gave Shy a serious look. “If this thing goes sour . . .”
“Trust me. If it doesn’t, things will get a lot better.”
Patrick hummed, keeping his eyes on the road. Shy directed him to the house Sandy and his uncle were staying in for the summer. As Patrick’s hand strayed over the steering wheel to honk the horn, Shy grabbed his arm.
“I’ll go get him.”
Patrick shook his head, chuckling softly in amusement.
Shy hopped up the few porch steps and rapped on the front door. He shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans in effort to keep them from shaking. He lowered his head and felt the curls flop over his bad eye like a security blanket.
The door opened and he looked up. A tall blond man looked down at him with a not-so-friendly expression. “Yes?” he said in a gruff voice.
Shy cleared his throat. It wouldn’t do to fall apart the first time he met his new—boyfriend?—mate’s guardian. “I’m Shy,” he said, extending his hand.
“Porter,” the man replied, taking Shy’s hand in his meaty handshake.
“Porter, are you hassling my date?”
The sound of Sandy’s voice inside the house released nearly all the tension Shy was feeling. His knees almost turned to jelly when Sandy’s head appeared around Porter’s broad shoulder. He was balancing on one foot, while he tied the sneaker on the other. For Shy, he was the most beautiful sight of the evening.
“I’m just making his acquaintance. Haven’t even showed him my knife collection yet,” Porter replied sardonically.
“Porter,” Sandy warned.
Porter smiled affectionately at his nephew. He turned to Shy. “Sandy says you’re a fisherman.”
“Yes, Sir,” Sandy replied, standing up straighter.
“I like that. I’m a fisherman, too,” Porter said, giving Shy an approving nod.
“We’re leaving now,” Sandy said, taking Shy’s hand.
“It was nice meeting you!” Shy called through the screen door.
Porter just smiled and waved.
Shy held the back door open for Sandy and slid in beside him. “Sandy, Patrick. Patrick, Sandy.”
“Hi,” Sandy said brightly, reaching between the seats to shake Patrick’s hand.
“To the party, then?” Patrick asked, catching Shy’s gaze in the mirror.
Shy nodded back and fixed his attention out the window. He remained like that all the way to the house party, his anxiety and tension mounting with every mile. Sandy and Patrick made small talk, but Shy wasn’t listening. His attention was on the thoughts racing through his mind.
Shy glanced up at Patrick, his face contorted in a grimace. “Perhaps we should skip the party—I’m not sure I want to go. I . . . I’m not feeling well, just now.”
Sandy reached across the seat and took Shy’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Everything will be fine. I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you at the party.”
Shy glanced over with worry in his eyes, but Sandy only stared back with that relaxed, soft smile. As much as Shy wanted to agree with him, Sandy had no idea what happened the last time he’d gone to an island party. So instead, he just gave him a weak smile and nodded. If he was going to get through this, he’d just have to keep his mouth shut. Sandy wouldn’t be on the island past the summer anyway, but that thought managed to bury itself under Shy’s skin like a thorn.
They pulled up to the house and Shy was thankful to see that there was nobody outside – it truly was a house party, and with luck, there wouldn’t be as many people as usually frequented these things.
Sandy slid out of the car behind Shy. “Are you ready?” he asked, concern filling his wide eyes.
“No,” Shy said with a shrug. He gave no further explanation and Sandy asked for none. Just the fact that Sandy was so willing to let Shy keep himself at arm’s length was enough to calm Shy’s nerves.
They walked into the house, Sandy and Patrick insisting that Shy go first because it was he who Kimo invited. Thankfully, Shy spotted Kimo amidst a slight group of people in the living room. He made a beeline for his friend, not checking to see if Patrick and Sandy were following.
“Shy-guy!” Kimo said, greeting Shy with an enthusiastic hand-slam. “And I see you brought your boy.” He looked past Sandy to Patrick. “Both a dem.”
Shy sat down next to Kimo, Sandy next to him, and Patrick next to a couple of girls with whom Kimo was chatting. Sandy placed a hand on Shy’s knee, which Shy found comforting rather than annoying. That surprised him.
“Is good to see you out here among da living. People was going to start thinking you’d don’ moved to da mainland.”
“Naw, man, I could never leave. I just needed a break from social life for a while. But, this is Sandy. And you know Patrick, of course.”
Sandy reached across Shy with his free hand to shake Kimo’s. Patrick nodded from the other couch.
“Dis a cute one, Shy. I’m proud of you.”
Shy ducked his head down. He wasn’t used to praise on a good day, but made himself smile and nod. “I’m so glad to get your approval. It’s the reason I came, after all.”
Kimo let out a loud laugh and clapped him on the back. “Such a sense of humour, dis guy,” Kimo said to the group. He reached down and pulled three bottles of beer out of the bin next to him, handing one to each Patrick, Shy, and Sandy.
“Kimo, you know I don’t drink,” Shy said, trying to press the bottle back into his friend’s hand.
“You’ll never change, will you?” Kimo said with a frown, and set the bottle back into the makeshift cooler.
Sandy popped the top on his own bottle and took a deep swig. “This is good,” he said, wiping his mouth. “What is it?” he asked, looking at the seemingly indecipherable label.
“Dat’s good island brew, man. You don’t go stickin’ your nose up at someting like dat. Unless you’re Shy, a’course.”
Shy kindly flipped him the bird. “Hey, man, where’s the bathroom at?”
“Down dat way,” Kimo replied, pointing with the hand that held his beer bottle.
“Thanks.”
Sandy set his beer down and stood up stood up with him. “I’ll come with you.”
Shy took Sandy’s hand, thankful for the company, as they wound through the other partygoers. They found the bathroom without any problem. With a small smile, Shy shut the door, leaving Sandy to more or less stand guard.
As it was, Sandy was content to lean against the door and people-watch. Living in Los Angeles until he was 15 had given him an appreciation for all the different kinds of people in the world. Most of the time he was thankful he wasn’t one of the cookie-cutter types, but it gave him amusement to watch them. Like the drunk girl stumbling up to the bathroom door in front of which he was standing.
“Sorry, my friend’s in there,” he said, stepping in front of the girl to keep her from walking in on Shy.
The girl raised her head and fixed hazy brown eyes on Sandy. She was very attractive—skin the colour of coffee and full pouty lips. But Sandy, even if he had been in to women, was put off by the slinky dress that hung off her too-thin frame. She could use more than a couple meals, and the stench of alcohol wafting from her skin didn’t help.
“I don’t know you,” she slurred, trying to keep her eyes trained on Sandy, despite her inebriated state.
“I’m Sandy,” he replied, pasting a smile on his face. “Do you need some help? Or a ride home?”
“Noooo,” she drawled. “I just need in the bathroom. What is your friend doing in there anyway? It’s seriously been like 10 minutes.”
Though Sandy knew Shy had barely been in the bathroom for more than a few minutes, he nodded. Thankfully, Shy opened the door before the girl started banging on it, but Shy’s face went completely white. Sandy suddenly realised he’d been talking to Andrea.
“Shy,” she said, sounding less drunk than she had seconds earlier. She gave him a quick once-over. “You look good.”
“You don’t,” Shy shot back.
Sandy just stood by quietly, watching the exchange. He didn’t want to interfere unless absolutely necessary, and Andrea didn’t seem like she wanted to make a scene.
“I miss you, Shy.” Andrea trailed a fingertip down Shy’s face. He visibly flinched in response.
“Please don’t touch me,” he said quietly.
“Shy . . .” And the tears started to fall. Sandy felt sorry for the girl, but knowing what had transpired between her and Shy made him less sympathetic than he was inclined to be.
Shy just stared at her.
“Things are never going to be the same, are they?” Andrea asked, reaching up to wipe her eyes. She only succeeded in smearing her mascara across her cheeks.
“You knew that a long time ago.” Shy reached out and took Sandy’s hand. “Goodbye, Andrea.” Together, they walked away, leaving Andrea in the mess she created.
Shy led Sandy back to where Kimo and Patrick were sitting, but he didn’t sit down. “Patrick, do you think you could take us home?”
“Sure,” Patrick replied, slightly confused. He stood up, digging the car keys out of his pocket. It was clear he wasn’t completely comfortable at the party anyway.
“Everyting okay, mon?” Kimo asked, giving Shy the same look of confusion.
“It’s just time to go,” was all Shy would say.
The ride back to Shy’s house was as silent as the ride there. Once again, Sandy sat in the back with Shy, but he didn’t touch him for fear he’d upset him more.
When Shy wanted to, he could close himself off completely. He was doing that now. Patrick had tried asking what happened at the party, but Shy just shook his head and continued staring out the window. In deference for Shy, Sandy wouldn’t tell him either. But for Patrick’s sake, Sandy made small talk, even if the only thing they wanted to talk about was Shy.
As Patrick pulled into his driveway, Shy looked across the seat. “Are you going home?”
“Not if you don’t want me to,” Sandy replied with a shrug.
Shy tugged him across the seat and they both got out on the same side. They waved Patrick off, watching his taillights until they disappeared from sight. Shy sat down on the porch and Sandy followed.
“I really wasn’t expecting to see her tonight,” Shy started.
“Shy, you don’t have to—”
“No, I want to. I want to.” Shy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know you haven’t known me very long, but have I ever done something I haven’t wanted?”
Sandy ducked his head, smiling. “No, I guess you haven’t. I just don’t want you to think you owe me any kind of an explanation.”
Shy leaned back on his elbows. He stared up at the night sky thoughtfully. “I’m not particularly bothered by seeing Andrea. I just didn’t expect it. But I think I’m more surprised that seeing her didn’t affect me.”
“At all?”
“No,” Shy said, sounding a bit surprised himself. “It’s almost as though seeing her made me realise that I’m over her. She doesn’t . . . she doesn’t make me feel anything any more. There’s no pain left.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Shy turned his head to Sandy, who was staring calmly towards the ocean in the distance. He was breathtaking with the moonlight cutting over his features, making the angles of his face stand out in even more stark relief. Shy felt his cock begin to stir. Though he felt his face begin to heat up at the desires of his body, he sprang to his feet, making Sandy start in surprise.
“I’ll be right back,” Shy whispered, putting a finger to his lips.
He disappeared into the house and returned in short order. As he pulled the door shut quietly behind him, Sandy could see that he had a blanket rolled up under one arm.
“Come on,” he said, taking Sandy’s hand.
“Where are we going?” Sandy whispered back, conspiratorially.
“To the beach!” Shy announced, releasing Sandy’s hand to take off at a lope towards the sand.
With a laugh, Sandy took off after him. He came to a stop next to Shy, who was watching the waves crash gently against the beach. The sound of the water was a soothing rhythm to their slightly harried night. And only last night Sandy spent the night in Shy’s arms. It had been a long day.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Sandy said finally.
Shy didn’t reply. He unfolded the blanket and spread it out on the sand. With a sigh, he settled himself down and looked up at Sandy. “Come here.”
Sandy did so, settling down between Shy’s splayed knees. Shy leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Sandy’s body and pulling him back against his chest. He placed a small kiss on Sandy’s shoulder, and then rested his chin there, looking out over the ocean.
“I’m lucky I found you.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Sandy replied, rubbing his cheek against Shy’s. “It was all to do with your superior seduction skills.”
This drew a laugh from Shy. “My seduction skills? All I did was invite you over for dinner. You were the little minx crawling over my lap.”
Sandy made a little noise of consideration. Then, “Hmm, I guess you’re right,” though he didn’t sound at all surprised.
Shy chuckled and the sound vibrated pleasantly against Sandy’s back. “You haven’t any shame, have you?”
“Don’t need any,” Sandy replied, turning in Shy’s arms so he could kiss him properly. Shy made a noise of pleasure in the back of his throat while his hands wandered up and down Sandy’s bare arms.
Shy allowed himself to be lowered to the blanket, though he was trying to quell his anxiety at letting Sandy take control. He felt the hair fall back from his face, away from his scars, and knew they were completely visible in the moonlight. But Sandy didn’t mind. Keeping his eyes locked on Shy’s, he began tracing the raised relief of Shy’s skin with his lips. He started at the hairline, smoothing a curl out of the way. He could tell Shy was tense, but he didn’t stop.
He kissed gently over the curve of Shy’s eyebrow and his cheekbone, just a soft brush of lips across the damaged skin. It was all Shy could do to keep himself from flinching. Sandy stilled him with a cupped hand to his unblemished cheek.
“You’re beautiful to me,” Sandy whispered against Shy’s cheek. Shy snorted and tried to turn his face away, but Sandy held him steady. “You’re beautiful, Shy.”
“No one has ever said that to me before,” Shy replied as tears stung his eyes.
“Don’t cry,” Sandy said, wiping at the tears with his thumbs. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Shy smiled and pulled Sandy down for a kiss. “I’m not upset. Just surprised. And very, very happy right now.”
“Just how ‘happy’ might that be?” Sandy teased, reaching a hand down to grope at the burgeoning erection in Shy’s jeans. He watched as Shy’s expression changed from one of contentment to that of pleasure. Shy bit his lip and stared up at Sandy pleadingly.
“You’re not just going to leave it there, are you?”
With a last squeeze, Sandy placed both of his hands on either side of Shy’s head and settled himself against Shy’s body. “I don’t know how much farther we can . . .”
But Shy was digging in his pocket. He pulled out a foil packet and a small tube. In the moonlight, Sandy could see that he was grinning like a fool.
“I didn’t want to hope for anything, but I also didn’t want to be unprepared.”
“You horny little beast,” Sandy said, taking the items and placing them on the blanket. “You just assumed you were going to get lucky tonight.” As he said this, he aligned his cock with Shy’s, thrusting just enough that they could feel one another through two layers of denim. He buried his hands in Shy’s thick hair. His mouth latched onto Shy’s in a fierce kiss.
Shy bucked his hips and groaned into Sandy’s mouth. His hands scrabbled against Sandy’s back, pulling his t-shirt up over his skin. Sandy pulled away from Shy’s mouth long enough to remove his shirt. He drank from Shy’s mouth like a thirsty man at a well. He poured everything he was feeling—every emotion, every passion he felt for Shy—into that kiss.
“If you keep kissing me like this, we’re never going to get to the good part,” Shy mumbled against Sandy’s lips.
“But you have,” Sandy kissed him again, “the most,” and again, “wonderful,” and again, “lips.” With a contented sigh, Sandy sat up, rearranging himself so that he was straddling Shy’s hips. “I suppose I have to get you naked, don’t I?”
“If you want to get to the good part,” Shy said with a shrug.
“I can do that.” Without further ceremony, Sandy pulled at Shy’s clothes and then his own until they were piled next to them. Then he laid back down to rub his gloriously naked skin against Shy’s. “Mmm I don’t think I even need to have sex. Just being naked with you is so wonderful.”
“I hope you don’t mean that,” Shy said, sounding semi-serious as he flexed himself to rub the head of his hard cock against Sandy’s belly.
Sandy leveraged himself up on his elbows to stare down at Shy. His expression was serious. “Have you ever bottomed before?”
Shy barked out a laugh. “Of course I have. Do you think I’d let you put me in this position if I hadn’t?”
“I just wanted to make sure,” Sandy replied, reaching for the condom. He kept his eyes on Shy as he rolled it on. Last time had been the other way around, and Sandy wanted to make sure that Shy was completely comfortable with doing it this way. In reply, Shy shifted his legs so that Sandy’s knees were between them. He curled one of his bare legs around Sandy’s hip, urging him closer.
Sandy flipped open the cap of the lube with his thumbnail and spread a generous amount over his latex-covered cock. He pressed his first two fingers against the entrance to Shy’s body, coating him with the remaining lube.
“You ready?” Sandy asked, hooking Shy’s ankle over his shoulder.
“Uh huh,” Shy replied eloquently, pulling Sandy down for another kiss, though he effectively pushed himself into a pretzel-like position.
Sandy pressed inside unhurriedly, gripping at the sweaty skin of Shy’s hips. When he was fully inside, he stilled his movements. “Tell me when you want me to move.”
Behind them, the waves crashed gently against the beach, providing rhythmic background music to their lovemaking. Their coupling was as unhurried and steady as the waves. The beach was deserted at this time of night. It was only the two of them, the moon, and the ocean. They could not have found a more perfect spot to spend the evening if they tried.
TBC
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: Shy/Sandy
Fandom: Haven/Flipper crossover
Summary: Sandy, a bright sunny boy spending the summer in the Cayman Islands, falls into the lap of Shy, a quiet dockhand.
Rating: hard R
Genre: Romance, angst
Warnings: mentions of past violence
Word Count: 3,398
Previous Chapters here
As Shy waited on the porch for Patrick, his nerves started to get the best of him. He hadn’t been to a party since the night he saw Andrea fucking some guy in that toilet. Then he had the fight with Hammer . . .
Shy wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to the party. Patrick’s words when he called had been, “No, absolutely not.” It took a bit of convincing on Shy’s part, but Patrick eventually agreed, on the condition that he’d drag Shy out of there by his “shaggy black head if anything happens.” Shy agreed without question. He didn’t want this to blow up in his face (literally) any more than Patrick did.
Patrick’s Mini pulled into the drive and Shy jumped up. He opened the door and greeted Patrick with a half-smile.
“Thank you for doing this.”
Patrick gave Shy a serious look. “If this thing goes sour . . .”
“Trust me. If it doesn’t, things will get a lot better.”
Patrick hummed, keeping his eyes on the road. Shy directed him to the house Sandy and his uncle were staying in for the summer. As Patrick’s hand strayed over the steering wheel to honk the horn, Shy grabbed his arm.
“I’ll go get him.”
Patrick shook his head, chuckling softly in amusement.
Shy hopped up the few porch steps and rapped on the front door. He shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans in effort to keep them from shaking. He lowered his head and felt the curls flop over his bad eye like a security blanket.
The door opened and he looked up. A tall blond man looked down at him with a not-so-friendly expression. “Yes?” he said in a gruff voice.
Shy cleared his throat. It wouldn’t do to fall apart the first time he met his new—boyfriend?—mate’s guardian. “I’m Shy,” he said, extending his hand.
“Porter,” the man replied, taking Shy’s hand in his meaty handshake.
“Porter, are you hassling my date?”
The sound of Sandy’s voice inside the house released nearly all the tension Shy was feeling. His knees almost turned to jelly when Sandy’s head appeared around Porter’s broad shoulder. He was balancing on one foot, while he tied the sneaker on the other. For Shy, he was the most beautiful sight of the evening.
“I’m just making his acquaintance. Haven’t even showed him my knife collection yet,” Porter replied sardonically.
“Porter,” Sandy warned.
Porter smiled affectionately at his nephew. He turned to Shy. “Sandy says you’re a fisherman.”
“Yes, Sir,” Sandy replied, standing up straighter.
“I like that. I’m a fisherman, too,” Porter said, giving Shy an approving nod.
“We’re leaving now,” Sandy said, taking Shy’s hand.
“It was nice meeting you!” Shy called through the screen door.
Porter just smiled and waved.
Shy held the back door open for Sandy and slid in beside him. “Sandy, Patrick. Patrick, Sandy.”
“Hi,” Sandy said brightly, reaching between the seats to shake Patrick’s hand.
“To the party, then?” Patrick asked, catching Shy’s gaze in the mirror.
Shy nodded back and fixed his attention out the window. He remained like that all the way to the house party, his anxiety and tension mounting with every mile. Sandy and Patrick made small talk, but Shy wasn’t listening. His attention was on the thoughts racing through his mind.
Shy glanced up at Patrick, his face contorted in a grimace. “Perhaps we should skip the party—I’m not sure I want to go. I . . . I’m not feeling well, just now.”
Sandy reached across the seat and took Shy’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Everything will be fine. I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you at the party.”
Shy glanced over with worry in his eyes, but Sandy only stared back with that relaxed, soft smile. As much as Shy wanted to agree with him, Sandy had no idea what happened the last time he’d gone to an island party. So instead, he just gave him a weak smile and nodded. If he was going to get through this, he’d just have to keep his mouth shut. Sandy wouldn’t be on the island past the summer anyway, but that thought managed to bury itself under Shy’s skin like a thorn.
They pulled up to the house and Shy was thankful to see that there was nobody outside – it truly was a house party, and with luck, there wouldn’t be as many people as usually frequented these things.
Sandy slid out of the car behind Shy. “Are you ready?” he asked, concern filling his wide eyes.
“No,” Shy said with a shrug. He gave no further explanation and Sandy asked for none. Just the fact that Sandy was so willing to let Shy keep himself at arm’s length was enough to calm Shy’s nerves.
They walked into the house, Sandy and Patrick insisting that Shy go first because it was he who Kimo invited. Thankfully, Shy spotted Kimo amidst a slight group of people in the living room. He made a beeline for his friend, not checking to see if Patrick and Sandy were following.
“Shy-guy!” Kimo said, greeting Shy with an enthusiastic hand-slam. “And I see you brought your boy.” He looked past Sandy to Patrick. “Both a dem.”
Shy sat down next to Kimo, Sandy next to him, and Patrick next to a couple of girls with whom Kimo was chatting. Sandy placed a hand on Shy’s knee, which Shy found comforting rather than annoying. That surprised him.
“Is good to see you out here among da living. People was going to start thinking you’d don’ moved to da mainland.”
“Naw, man, I could never leave. I just needed a break from social life for a while. But, this is Sandy. And you know Patrick, of course.”
Sandy reached across Shy with his free hand to shake Kimo’s. Patrick nodded from the other couch.
“Dis a cute one, Shy. I’m proud of you.”
Shy ducked his head down. He wasn’t used to praise on a good day, but made himself smile and nod. “I’m so glad to get your approval. It’s the reason I came, after all.”
Kimo let out a loud laugh and clapped him on the back. “Such a sense of humour, dis guy,” Kimo said to the group. He reached down and pulled three bottles of beer out of the bin next to him, handing one to each Patrick, Shy, and Sandy.
“Kimo, you know I don’t drink,” Shy said, trying to press the bottle back into his friend’s hand.
“You’ll never change, will you?” Kimo said with a frown, and set the bottle back into the makeshift cooler.
Sandy popped the top on his own bottle and took a deep swig. “This is good,” he said, wiping his mouth. “What is it?” he asked, looking at the seemingly indecipherable label.
“Dat’s good island brew, man. You don’t go stickin’ your nose up at someting like dat. Unless you’re Shy, a’course.”
Shy kindly flipped him the bird. “Hey, man, where’s the bathroom at?”
“Down dat way,” Kimo replied, pointing with the hand that held his beer bottle.
“Thanks.”
Sandy set his beer down and stood up stood up with him. “I’ll come with you.”
Shy took Sandy’s hand, thankful for the company, as they wound through the other partygoers. They found the bathroom without any problem. With a small smile, Shy shut the door, leaving Sandy to more or less stand guard.
As it was, Sandy was content to lean against the door and people-watch. Living in Los Angeles until he was 15 had given him an appreciation for all the different kinds of people in the world. Most of the time he was thankful he wasn’t one of the cookie-cutter types, but it gave him amusement to watch them. Like the drunk girl stumbling up to the bathroom door in front of which he was standing.
“Sorry, my friend’s in there,” he said, stepping in front of the girl to keep her from walking in on Shy.
The girl raised her head and fixed hazy brown eyes on Sandy. She was very attractive—skin the colour of coffee and full pouty lips. But Sandy, even if he had been in to women, was put off by the slinky dress that hung off her too-thin frame. She could use more than a couple meals, and the stench of alcohol wafting from her skin didn’t help.
“I don’t know you,” she slurred, trying to keep her eyes trained on Sandy, despite her inebriated state.
“I’m Sandy,” he replied, pasting a smile on his face. “Do you need some help? Or a ride home?”
“Noooo,” she drawled. “I just need in the bathroom. What is your friend doing in there anyway? It’s seriously been like 10 minutes.”
Though Sandy knew Shy had barely been in the bathroom for more than a few minutes, he nodded. Thankfully, Shy opened the door before the girl started banging on it, but Shy’s face went completely white. Sandy suddenly realised he’d been talking to Andrea.
“Shy,” she said, sounding less drunk than she had seconds earlier. She gave him a quick once-over. “You look good.”
“You don’t,” Shy shot back.
Sandy just stood by quietly, watching the exchange. He didn’t want to interfere unless absolutely necessary, and Andrea didn’t seem like she wanted to make a scene.
“I miss you, Shy.” Andrea trailed a fingertip down Shy’s face. He visibly flinched in response.
“Please don’t touch me,” he said quietly.
“Shy . . .” And the tears started to fall. Sandy felt sorry for the girl, but knowing what had transpired between her and Shy made him less sympathetic than he was inclined to be.
Shy just stared at her.
“Things are never going to be the same, are they?” Andrea asked, reaching up to wipe her eyes. She only succeeded in smearing her mascara across her cheeks.
“You knew that a long time ago.” Shy reached out and took Sandy’s hand. “Goodbye, Andrea.” Together, they walked away, leaving Andrea in the mess she created.
Shy led Sandy back to where Kimo and Patrick were sitting, but he didn’t sit down. “Patrick, do you think you could take us home?”
“Sure,” Patrick replied, slightly confused. He stood up, digging the car keys out of his pocket. It was clear he wasn’t completely comfortable at the party anyway.
“Everyting okay, mon?” Kimo asked, giving Shy the same look of confusion.
“It’s just time to go,” was all Shy would say.
The ride back to Shy’s house was as silent as the ride there. Once again, Sandy sat in the back with Shy, but he didn’t touch him for fear he’d upset him more.
When Shy wanted to, he could close himself off completely. He was doing that now. Patrick had tried asking what happened at the party, but Shy just shook his head and continued staring out the window. In deference for Shy, Sandy wouldn’t tell him either. But for Patrick’s sake, Sandy made small talk, even if the only thing they wanted to talk about was Shy.
As Patrick pulled into his driveway, Shy looked across the seat. “Are you going home?”
“Not if you don’t want me to,” Sandy replied with a shrug.
Shy tugged him across the seat and they both got out on the same side. They waved Patrick off, watching his taillights until they disappeared from sight. Shy sat down on the porch and Sandy followed.
“I really wasn’t expecting to see her tonight,” Shy started.
“Shy, you don’t have to—”
“No, I want to. I want to.” Shy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know you haven’t known me very long, but have I ever done something I haven’t wanted?”
Sandy ducked his head, smiling. “No, I guess you haven’t. I just don’t want you to think you owe me any kind of an explanation.”
Shy leaned back on his elbows. He stared up at the night sky thoughtfully. “I’m not particularly bothered by seeing Andrea. I just didn’t expect it. But I think I’m more surprised that seeing her didn’t affect me.”
“At all?”
“No,” Shy said, sounding a bit surprised himself. “It’s almost as though seeing her made me realise that I’m over her. She doesn’t . . . she doesn’t make me feel anything any more. There’s no pain left.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Shy turned his head to Sandy, who was staring calmly towards the ocean in the distance. He was breathtaking with the moonlight cutting over his features, making the angles of his face stand out in even more stark relief. Shy felt his cock begin to stir. Though he felt his face begin to heat up at the desires of his body, he sprang to his feet, making Sandy start in surprise.
“I’ll be right back,” Shy whispered, putting a finger to his lips.
He disappeared into the house and returned in short order. As he pulled the door shut quietly behind him, Sandy could see that he had a blanket rolled up under one arm.
“Come on,” he said, taking Sandy’s hand.
“Where are we going?” Sandy whispered back, conspiratorially.
“To the beach!” Shy announced, releasing Sandy’s hand to take off at a lope towards the sand.
With a laugh, Sandy took off after him. He came to a stop next to Shy, who was watching the waves crash gently against the beach. The sound of the water was a soothing rhythm to their slightly harried night. And only last night Sandy spent the night in Shy’s arms. It had been a long day.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Sandy said finally.
Shy didn’t reply. He unfolded the blanket and spread it out on the sand. With a sigh, he settled himself down and looked up at Sandy. “Come here.”
Sandy did so, settling down between Shy’s splayed knees. Shy leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Sandy’s body and pulling him back against his chest. He placed a small kiss on Sandy’s shoulder, and then rested his chin there, looking out over the ocean.
“I’m lucky I found you.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Sandy replied, rubbing his cheek against Shy’s. “It was all to do with your superior seduction skills.”
This drew a laugh from Shy. “My seduction skills? All I did was invite you over for dinner. You were the little minx crawling over my lap.”
Sandy made a little noise of consideration. Then, “Hmm, I guess you’re right,” though he didn’t sound at all surprised.
Shy chuckled and the sound vibrated pleasantly against Sandy’s back. “You haven’t any shame, have you?”
“Don’t need any,” Sandy replied, turning in Shy’s arms so he could kiss him properly. Shy made a noise of pleasure in the back of his throat while his hands wandered up and down Sandy’s bare arms.
Shy allowed himself to be lowered to the blanket, though he was trying to quell his anxiety at letting Sandy take control. He felt the hair fall back from his face, away from his scars, and knew they were completely visible in the moonlight. But Sandy didn’t mind. Keeping his eyes locked on Shy’s, he began tracing the raised relief of Shy’s skin with his lips. He started at the hairline, smoothing a curl out of the way. He could tell Shy was tense, but he didn’t stop.
He kissed gently over the curve of Shy’s eyebrow and his cheekbone, just a soft brush of lips across the damaged skin. It was all Shy could do to keep himself from flinching. Sandy stilled him with a cupped hand to his unblemished cheek.
“You’re beautiful to me,” Sandy whispered against Shy’s cheek. Shy snorted and tried to turn his face away, but Sandy held him steady. “You’re beautiful, Shy.”
“No one has ever said that to me before,” Shy replied as tears stung his eyes.
“Don’t cry,” Sandy said, wiping at the tears with his thumbs. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Shy smiled and pulled Sandy down for a kiss. “I’m not upset. Just surprised. And very, very happy right now.”
“Just how ‘happy’ might that be?” Sandy teased, reaching a hand down to grope at the burgeoning erection in Shy’s jeans. He watched as Shy’s expression changed from one of contentment to that of pleasure. Shy bit his lip and stared up at Sandy pleadingly.
“You’re not just going to leave it there, are you?”
With a last squeeze, Sandy placed both of his hands on either side of Shy’s head and settled himself against Shy’s body. “I don’t know how much farther we can . . .”
But Shy was digging in his pocket. He pulled out a foil packet and a small tube. In the moonlight, Sandy could see that he was grinning like a fool.
“I didn’t want to hope for anything, but I also didn’t want to be unprepared.”
“You horny little beast,” Sandy said, taking the items and placing them on the blanket. “You just assumed you were going to get lucky tonight.” As he said this, he aligned his cock with Shy’s, thrusting just enough that they could feel one another through two layers of denim. He buried his hands in Shy’s thick hair. His mouth latched onto Shy’s in a fierce kiss.
Shy bucked his hips and groaned into Sandy’s mouth. His hands scrabbled against Sandy’s back, pulling his t-shirt up over his skin. Sandy pulled away from Shy’s mouth long enough to remove his shirt. He drank from Shy’s mouth like a thirsty man at a well. He poured everything he was feeling—every emotion, every passion he felt for Shy—into that kiss.
“If you keep kissing me like this, we’re never going to get to the good part,” Shy mumbled against Sandy’s lips.
“But you have,” Sandy kissed him again, “the most,” and again, “wonderful,” and again, “lips.” With a contented sigh, Sandy sat up, rearranging himself so that he was straddling Shy’s hips. “I suppose I have to get you naked, don’t I?”
“If you want to get to the good part,” Shy said with a shrug.
“I can do that.” Without further ceremony, Sandy pulled at Shy’s clothes and then his own until they were piled next to them. Then he laid back down to rub his gloriously naked skin against Shy’s. “Mmm I don’t think I even need to have sex. Just being naked with you is so wonderful.”
“I hope you don’t mean that,” Shy said, sounding semi-serious as he flexed himself to rub the head of his hard cock against Sandy’s belly.
Sandy leveraged himself up on his elbows to stare down at Shy. His expression was serious. “Have you ever bottomed before?”
Shy barked out a laugh. “Of course I have. Do you think I’d let you put me in this position if I hadn’t?”
“I just wanted to make sure,” Sandy replied, reaching for the condom. He kept his eyes on Shy as he rolled it on. Last time had been the other way around, and Sandy wanted to make sure that Shy was completely comfortable with doing it this way. In reply, Shy shifted his legs so that Sandy’s knees were between them. He curled one of his bare legs around Sandy’s hip, urging him closer.
Sandy flipped open the cap of the lube with his thumbnail and spread a generous amount over his latex-covered cock. He pressed his first two fingers against the entrance to Shy’s body, coating him with the remaining lube.
“You ready?” Sandy asked, hooking Shy’s ankle over his shoulder.
“Uh huh,” Shy replied eloquently, pulling Sandy down for another kiss, though he effectively pushed himself into a pretzel-like position.
Sandy pressed inside unhurriedly, gripping at the sweaty skin of Shy’s hips. When he was fully inside, he stilled his movements. “Tell me when you want me to move.”
Behind them, the waves crashed gently against the beach, providing rhythmic background music to their lovemaking. Their coupling was as unhurried and steady as the waves. The beach was deserted at this time of night. It was only the two of them, the moon, and the ocean. They could not have found a more perfect spot to spend the evening if they tried.
TBC