The Story of Us

by Barbara Elsborg

  Henry smiled. “No. I’m just as obstinate as you.”

  “My brother’s changed. I almost like him.”

  “I understand he’s working with disadvantaged youngsters and works for a LGBTQ charity. He’s well thought of. Committed. Determined.”

  “How do you know?”

  Henry smiled. “I also know that your father is not going to head the committee he’s been angling for. His political aspirations are going to come to a grinding halt.”

  Caspian’s heart stuttered. “Am I bad for Zed? Am I going to hold him back?”

  But the return of Jonas and Zed stopped Henry from answering. They were wearing wetsuits and Jonas had a camera dangling from his wrist.

  “I didn’t want you to split your sides in hysterics at me getting into this,” Jonas said. “I’m still haunted by how hard you laughed last year.”

  “I did apologise.” Henry pushed to his feet.

  “Well, maybe I’ll have the last laugh. The other suit is tighter and you’re bigger than me.”

  “Bastard.” Henry growled.

  When the sea washed over his bare feet, Caspian winced. Even wearing a full wetsuit, the water was chilly. But conditions were great for surfing, good sized breakers were rolling in and the sun was out. He waded in, securely attached to his board by his ankle, and as soon as he was waist deep, he climbed on, lay flat and paddled out. Nope. Not thinking about how many years since I did this.

  Caspian had been good at surfing. Better than Lachlan but he wasn’t sure if he could stand up straight away. Maybe he’d bodyboard the first time. Then he thought again. The old him would have just gone for it and risked a wipe-out and kept trying until he rode to the shallows standing all the way.

  “Okay?” Zed called.

  “Great.” Caspian sat on his board, his legs dangling either side, the sun in his face.

  That was one thing about surfing, you left everything behind when you were out on the water. You could sit quietly, wait for the right wave and think about nothing or everything. Caspian chose nothing. Only he couldn’t help thinking about what Henry had said. Was his father at last getting what he deserved? The kick that Caspian couldn’t give him?

  Henry was the first to grab a wave and he stood up right to the beach. Then Jonas and Zed went for the same wave, Jonas fell, then Zed did too. Caspian’s heart jumped. He watched until he saw Zed climbing back on his board before he let himself relax. He tipped his face to the sky and closed his eyes, content to let himself rise and fall for a while. He licked salt from his lips and sighed. Thank fuck I didn’t kill myself or I’d have never done this again. Though maybe killing himself was going to happen now instead.

  As the other three paddled back towards him, Caspian spotted a larger wall of white water rolling his way and he pointed his board toward the beach. Flat on his stomach, he waited, then paddled fast. He felt the back of his board rise up and then he was gliding. Do it. Do it. He put his hands in a push-up position, shoved himself up in one movement and firmly planted his feet. Front foot forward, back foot sideways. Stay crouched until you’re stable.

  Once he was sure he was balanced, he turned the board across the wave and rode it parallel to the beach. He heard Zed whooping somewhere behind him. Oh shit. I can do it. This is fun.

  Then suddenly it wasn’t. He was tumbling, sucked down, his mouth full of the sea until he fought his way back to the surface and spat it out. Fuck. Another wave broke over him and dragged him toward the shore. He crawled onto the sand with such an overwhelming sense of relief that he expected to sink into it and put out roots. I’m not going out there again.

  But he got his breath back, pulled himself up, picked up his board and waded back out.

  “That was spectacular,” Jonas shouted. “Before you fell, I mean.”

  “The fall was spectacular too,” Zed called.

  Caspian let out a spluttering laugh. He kept trying. He kept falling but he didn’t give up. It had turned into a personal battle and he knew he might not win but he wasn’t going to stop until he’d managed to ride to the beach.

  It was a crazy feeling, paddling out knowing that if you made a mistake you could be driven into the sand. Even for the best surfers there was always danger which was part of the sport’s attraction. No two waves were the same. With a combination of the sea, the board and your body, all of them moving, surfing a wave was a different experience every time.

  He kept wiping out. He was tired but he wouldn’t stop. It was a matter of balance. He needed his feet in a different place.

  “We’re going in now,” Zed called. “Lifeguards have packed up. Last run.”

  Caspian watched Jonas and Zed ride to the beach. Henry was still out on his board close to Caspian.

  “An inch further back with your front foot and you’ll do it,” Henry said. “Look behind you. This wave’s yours.”

  It was his wave. Caspian paddled hard, pushed himself up and he knew this time he’d make it. He turned across the wave and heard Henry’s whoop as he rode home. Caspian’s smile was born of exhilaration and pride. The wave took him all the way in.

  As he walked through the shallows with his board, Henry joined him. “Well done.”

  “Thank you. You were right about my foot.”

  Zed came splashing up. “Yay! You did it.”

  Caspian’s sun-touched face glowed as they made the long uphill trek back to the cottage. He was exhausted, still half-pumped with adrenaline but filled with a huge sense of satisfaction. He had a sudden feeling that this holiday and the surfing had been arranged for him.

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” he said to Henry.

  “We do try to come every year.”

  “Still, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Enjoy yourself?”

  “It was brilliant.”

  “Like riding a bike, yeah? You’ll get the hang of everything you missed.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Zed cooked that night and Caspian helped. Barbequed shrimp, vegetable kebabs and an Iranian salad. The difference in Caspian brought a lump to Zed’s throat. He was happy, chatty, smiley—back to the boy Zed remembered he’d first met. His face had caught the sun and he’d lost his prison pallor. Pointless trying to deny that he loved him because he did. But he wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t add more pressure to Caspian’s life. He could wait.

  It was too chilly to eat outside so they sat at the table in the conservatory and after they’d finished the meal, opened another bottle of wine and watched the setting sun. The sky was painted in shades of gold, orange, purple and red. It was a long time since Zed had seen a sunset like it.

  “Wow,” Caspian muttered. “That’s spectacular.”

  Something else he’d not been able to do in prison. Zed caught hold of his hand and squeezed his fingers.

  Jonas took a few pictures with his camera of the sky and of them.

  “We’re going to St Ives tomorrow,” he said. “Want to come?”

  “What are you going to do?” Zed asked.

  “Walk along the coast from Perranuthnoe to Marazion.”

  “We’ll stay here,” Zed said. “Unless you want to go?” He turned to Caspian. “I was thinking we could rehearse.”

  “Okay.” Caspian yawned. He pushed to his feet and carried the plates into the kitchen.

  “Go to bed. I’ll load the dishwasher,” Zed said.

  “I can’t believe how tired I am.”

  “Bed.” Zed gave him a gentle nudge toward the room they were in.

  Henry and Jonas brought in the rest of the dishes and the glasses.

  “Look after him,” Henry whispered. “I’m worried he’ll push himself too hard.”

  Zed nodded, then flung his arms around Henry and hugged him, then he hugged Jonas. “Thank you for everything. You’ve done so much for me.”

  “You’ve done just as much for us.” Jonas let him go. “Off to bed.”

  Zed smiled. “Keep the noise down.”

&nbs
p; “You cheeky…” But Henry laughed as he said it.

  When Zed slipped into the bedroom, Caspian was fast asleep. He wasn’t pretending. He didn’t even stir when Zed got in beside him. Moments after Zed’s head hit the pillow, he was out for the count.

  He woke with a start to find it was morning with no Caspian next to him. When he saw the time, he gaped. Nine thirty? He never slept that late. He pulled on a pair of boxers and left the bedroom. There was no sign of Henry or Jonas. The car had gone. When he couldn’t find Caspian in the house, Zed felt a fluttering of panic. He checked the garage and all four boards were there, so he felt better but where the hell had he gone?

  Zed went back into the house and picked up his phone. There was a message from Fin—stuff that—and one from Caspian.

  Skinny dipping in the garden. Join me?

  He tossed his phone onto the bed and went back outside. Caspian lounged in a children’s paddling pool on the lawn at the side of the house. He was naked. Zed laughed.

  “Get in here with me and we can tick another one off our list,” Caspian said. “I didn’t fancy doing this in the sea. Too cold and too many things that might show interest in parts of my anatomy that I only want one person to find fascinating.”

  Zed stripped out of his boxers and stepped into the water. “Ooh, it’s warm.”

  “While you were sleeping, I’ve been filling buckets with hot water.” He reached up and pulled Zed down on top of him, water slopping over the inflated sides.

  Zed groaned into Caspian’s mouth, the kiss instantly intoxicating. They were both hard, squirming against each other, hands all over each other. Then Zed was under Caspian and all he could feel were Caspian’s hands and mouth and cock. Caspian licked across his stomach, swirling his tongue in Zed’s navel before sucking a path to his nipple. He bit it and Zed almost bucked him out of the pool.

  When his mouth reached the hollow of Zed’s neck, Zed turned as liquid as the water. Caspian held him down with his body, rocking against him, their cocks kissing and sliding. Then Caspian wriggled around so that his cock was close to Zed’s mouth and as Zed wrapped his lips around him, Caspian did the same to him. Zed didn’t have the strength to lift his hips. He sucked and licked and everything he did, Caspian copied until all that was left was to come.

  They exploded within seconds of each other and Caspian rolled off him panting.

  “Fuck,” Caspian gasped.

  He wriggled round until he was lying alongside Zed, their lower legs hanging over the side of the pool. Zed slid his arm under Caspian’s neck and pulled him close.

  Caspian held up his hand. “I’m shaking.”

  “Me too.”

  “Are we putting that down to hot sex or should we be worried we’re sickening for something?”

  “I’m definitely coming down with something.”

  Caspian laughed, then rolled so his chin rested on Zed’s chest. “I like you naked. Don’t put clothes on again. We can fuck all day. Jonas said they won’t be back until late afternoon. In between bouts of me licking you all over, you can play your guitar.”

  “We can both play.”

  Caspian groaned. “I’m crap.”

  They eventually put on clothes and set up the guitars and the amp. When Zed checked the message from Fin, he’d sent him a slightly different order of play. Corrigan had tweaked it. Zed didn’t mind what the order was.

  “I’ll go through our playlist for the festival and you join in when you can. I’ll do each song at least a couple of times. Okay?”

  When Caspian picked up his guitar and started to play, the sounds he made were so awful, Zed froze. Caspian attacked the song, if it was a song, as if it had personally insulted him. The discordant chords, the ear-splitting feedback set Zed’s teeth on edge. Oh shit. He really can’t play.

  Caspian gave a final hard strum and beamed at him. “Hey, what do you know? I can play.”

  Zed couldn’t think of anything positive to say.

  “What did you think?” Caspian looked so hopeful, Zed crumpled.

  “What was it called?” Zed hoped he wasn’t supposed to have recognised it.

  “Gay Werewolf Rhapsody in Blue.” Caspian howled and Zed threw a cushion at him.

  “You shit.”

  Caspian grinned. “I’ll tone it down a bit.”

  He wasn’t bad, Zed was relieved to find. The more Zed played the same song, the better Caspian got, but there was no way he was good enough to play with the band. Though he wasn’t being fair when Caspian had hardly played an electric guitar for five years and didn’t know the songs.

  Zed started one that had been on the MP3 player he’d sent Caspian, Hozier’s Take Me To Church and Caspian stopped playing and sang instead. Oh fuck, his voice. It was sweet, it was soulful, strong and individual. When he sang the words our gentle sin he stared straight at Zed with his big, dark eyes and Zed swallowed hard. Caspian’s voice gave him chills in the best possible way.

  The last guitar chord faded away and Zed set his guitar aside. He pulled Caspian into his arms and whispered, “Bed.”

  “I’m not tired.”

  “Good.”

  Zed dragged him to the bedroom, kicked the door closed and shoved Caspian up against it, kissing him, mauling him, pulling at his clothes, stripping him out of his T-shirt, then his jeans and boxers before yanking off his own clothes. They stumbled across the room to the bed and fell on it. Zed reached into the drawer for the condoms and lube and then froze.

  Too fast? Was Caspian ready? Am I?

  “Yes,” Caspian said. “My safe word is angle grinder.”

  “That’s two words. A plain Stop is fine.”

  “I like angle grinder.”

  “Fine. Okay. If I hear you say that, I’ll stop.”

  “Don’t stop on angle, wait for grinder.”

  Zed laughed. He was as careful as he could be considering the level of his desperation. Plenty of lube, stretch him first, find that spot, oh yeah, his low groan—or was that me?— don’t be too rough, don’t hurt him, slow, slow. Caspian lay on his back, his legs up and Zed was pushing into him, willing him to help, begging those tight muscles to cede right now because his cock was doing an excellent impersonation of a heat-seeking missile, locked on target and relentless. Caspian gasped, pushed back and Zed slid into him, kept sliding—how much of there is me? —until he was buried inside the guy he loved.

  Don’t rush this.

  He rushed it.

  He tried not to, but he failed. His hips weren’t listening. He drove in and out of Caspian’s body on an endorphin high, fizzing as if he’d eaten a large bar of chocolate, the sugar rush overpowering. Caspian’s arse was like a glove around his cock. Every time Caspian arched his back, Zed’s body reacted. Joined like magnets, Zed couldn’t move far before he had to be back inside him. Caspian reached back to hold onto the headboard and Zed slid forward to kiss him, but he didn’t stop moving.

  When Caspian rocked up into him, there was nothing left in the world but the push and shove of their bodies, as they cantered, galloped, catapulted into orgasm. Zed’s balls drew up, his spine tingled and he came in a shower of sparks, cum shooting from his cock, jet after jet, and he wished there was nothing between them, no condom because he wanted Caspian full with all of him.

  Breathe!

  Oh yeah.

  Caspian cried out as he came, his hand squeezing, jerking, then slowing on his cock and Zed collapsed on top of him, his head on Caspian’s chest. Caspian stroked his hair. Caspian’s heart was beating hard under his ear. A strong heart was a good thing because they were going risk heart attacks every time they fucked.

  “Want to hear a poem?” Caspian asked.

  “You make it up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t know you wrote poetry.”

  “I didn’t want you to think I was a weird shit.”

  Zed laughed. “I know you’re a weird shit.”

  Caspian took a deep breath.

  “My
dreams have no place to go

  This journey will end

  But I don’t know

  When that will be

  What I will be

  And when I’m free

  There’s no place to hide

  Unless you’re by my side

  We’ll run till we fall

  We can have it all

  Strange roads

  Dark days

  Our path is right before us

  If we dare risk it

  All we need to do is fly

  The world is ours

  Stay close to me

  Listen to me call

  Only you can make me feel

  Like we can have it all

  Make me believe

  We can have it all.”

  Zed rolled to one side and looked into Caspian’s face. “I love you. I’ll never love anyone as much as you.” What are you going to say to that?

  “What about if we get a dog?” Caspian asked. “You’d have to love a dog as much as me.”

  Zed laughed. That hadn’t been what he’d expected. “Ah damn. That’s true.”

  Caspian smiled. “Let’s go surfing.”

  “Too rough.”

  “It’ll be exciting. The waves are huge.”

  “Too huge. The wind is blowing onshore. That’s not good for surfing.”

  Particularly for someone who’d wiped out so many times yesterday, someone whose body bore the bruises. Caspian had to be aching.

  “Kites then,” Caspian suggested.

  “Okay.” That was nice and safe.

  They picked up the two bags labelled kites from the garage and walked down to the beach which was deserted. Red flags flying. No lifeguards on duty. Zed unzipped the bag and winced. There looked a lot of material for a simple kite, so it wasn’t a simple kite.

  “Not sure about this,” Zed said, but Caspian was already attaching cuffs around his wrists.

  “They’re power kites.” He grinned at Zed. “It’s fine. I’ve done this before.”

  “I haven’t. I’ll watch.” And make sure you don’t get into trouble.

  To be fair to Caspian, he did look as if he knew what he was doing but when wind filled the red and blue kite and turned it into a large C-shaped wing, Zed groaned.