by Noah Harris
He wound up back at the beginning once more, and with a sense of panic began to run again. But although his legs pumped, his body didn’t move. They started running fast but settled into a slow drift, like he was jogging in five feet of snow with all the movement of a rock. His body didn’t move despite his efforts to run and the fact that his legs were seemingly in motion. He pushed hard to charge forward, but continued to stay in one place, as if stuck on a treadmill.
“What are you doing?” he heard a familiar voice say.
In the field to his left were his parents, sitting patiently on the old tree stump. He looked at them from the corner of his eye. He remembered that stump; it was all that was left of the tree when he took their car that one time. His parents were middle-aged but still looked vibrant and full of life. His dad was larger than Barry and sported a moustache; his mother was portly and round. The two shared the stump as they stared at him with disapproval in their eyes.
“Look at ’im, Carol, he can’t even run,” his dad grunted. “Come on, you’re a Hodgeson man! Quit this sissy shit!”
“Barry honey, maybe if you had joined the Army instead you’d be better at this?” his mother asked softly.
“Is he crying? Oh Jesus H. Christ, he’s crying!”
“It’s okay to admit you’re weak, dear, I still love you.”
“Why don’t you lend ’im one of your dresses while you’re at it? Look at ’im. He’s crying.”
The wind grew even louder and Barry felt tears of frustration streaming down his face as he ran, albeit slowly in one place. He wanted to just hug his parents, but even they seemed more interested in keeping him out here. He felt the words form in his throat, squeezing his stomach tight while the wind blew his own tears back into his eyes. He wanted to tell them everything he felt.
“Barry, why don’t you have a girlfriend? Are you one of those metrosexuals I’ve heard about?”
“Barry could’ve joined the Marines if he wanted to. I guess flying on the beach is okay.”
“Barry, you could’ve done better. You have so much potential!”
“Barry, are you trying to embarrass me?”
“Barry—”
“Barry—?”
“Barry—”
“Barry. Barry,” a voice called out.
Barry’s tired eyes squinted as he woke up to a dark blur staring down at him. As his vision returned, the blur moved to reveal Xanathen straddling his stomach. Barry winced under the sudden pressure and jerked his body, sending Xanathen tumbling off him to the ground. He felt tears streaming down his face stinging his eyes. He quickly brushed them away and sat up.
“Xanathen? What are you—”
“It’s noon,” Xanathen said, pointing upwards. The sun stood high in the middle of the sky, gleaming past the overhanging clouds.
Barry frowned, staring at Xanathen, unblinking and unamused. He lay back down with a grumble, “Did you not notice I was sleeping?”
“You don’t sleep at noon.”
“You do when you’re kept up all night hunting down whatever’s been creeping around your camp,” Barry said, shooting him a dirty look.
“Come on,” Xanathen said, as he grabbed Barry’s hand and easily pulled him to his feet. “I feel like racing again.”
He trotted through the campsite with a confident stroll, pumping his sculpted arms in rhythm as he strode between the trees. Barry groaned and defiantly curled up again under the lean-to. Xanathen continued walking towards the beach until his eyes widened with the realization that he was alone. Scowling, he stomped back to the campsite. He shook Barry vigorously and was greeted only with disgruntled moans. Xanathen hoisted him to his feet again and this time didn’t let go.
“I want to race,” Xanathen insisted, as he led him to the beach. “I’m certain you won’t catch me this time.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? I’m exhausted from that fiasco last night!” Barry protested. His legs wobbled and swayed as he walked, his muscles reluctantly stretching, threatening to cramp any second.
“That was barely anything! I can do more.”
“No. I’m not running around like that again. Not today.”
“I win,” Xanathen chirped, almost in song. His face curled to a satisfied, toothy grin.
“What? You do not!”
“You said you won’t run. So that means I win!”
“Winning by forfeit isn’t actually winning. That’s like saying I won a wrestling match we didn’t actually have!”
“Ooh, I love wrestling. Do you want to wrestle instead?” Xanathen’s eyebrows arched with excitement.
“No! You’re missing the p—!”
Before Barry could finish his sentence, Xanathen had wrapped one huge arm over his shoulder and the other under his side, and then slammed him backwards onto the sand. Barry found himself quickly turned over and pinned to the ground, as Xanathen pressed his weight into Barry’s body with a sneer. Barry scowled, gripped Xanathen, and with all the force he could muster, grabbed the massive shoulders and turned the tables on the big man. The two men struggled and squirmed in their constant battle to be on top. One minute one would be victorious, only to find themselves face first in the sand a moment later. In seconds, one would fling their legs around the other, squeeze their waist and flip both of them over. Their arms and legs were in constant motion as they changed positions, grabbing each other tightly. Their firm bodies pressed into each other on the warm sandy shore, playfully struggling for dominance. Sand poured off their muscles and sprayed into the air with each intense motion. It wasn’t long before the shore was covered in prints of their entire bodies, a crazy mural documenting their spirited struggle. At last, Xanathen grabbed Barry, wrapped powerful legs around his waist and pushed him to the ground.
Staring down at the man beneath him, sweat poured off his forehead and dripped on to Barry. His skin gleamed as the moisture glistened on his sculpted body, and his warmth transferred to Barry as he held the smaller man down. Barry felt the urge to shove him backwards, but he was frozen in place and just continued to stare up at Xanathen’s eyes, as if mesmerized. The soft sand cushioned him against the weight, feeling good against Barry’s back. The human touch around his wrists felt almost invigorating, and as much as he wanted to flip the big man and claim his place as the winner, he couldn’t help but bask in the excitement of the moment.
“I win!” Xanathen cried out, snapping Barry from his trance.
“I told you I was tired!” Barry said, squirming underneath him.
“Excuses, excuses,” Xanathen tsked, as he slowly stood up and extended a hand to his opponent. “That was fun! What do we do now?”
“We? Nothing. I, on the other hand, am going back to sleep.”
“You can sleep at night! Come on, the day is still young!”
Xanathen held tightly to Barry’s hand as he energetically trudged along the sandy shore, dragging Barry limply behind him. He ran nimbly across the beach with Barry close on his heels, accidentally kicking streams of sand in his face. His fin-like Mohawk hairstyle stayed perfectly erect as he jogged, a phenomenon that distracted Barry from his initial irritation. They tore through the shallow surf that lapped against the beach, the cool water soothing their feet and the stray droplets refreshing their sweaty bodies.
As he ran along behind—with little choice since Xanathen still gripped his wrist—Barry continued to stare at the larger man. His body was the shape he himself had long dreamed of having, but never achieved. Broad shoulders and a narrow waist, and long muscular legs. On top of those legs was a strong firm butt held snugly within his brown trousers.
“Wait, where are we going?” Barry shouted. Receiving no immediate response, he leapt, then leant backwards, planting both feet into the sand. Xanathen was yanked back by the maneuver, stopped short after plowing a short furrow with Barry’s planted feet, the angle of his body providing sufficient leverage to stop the forward momentum of the behemoth. Xanathen looked back with a tolerant smi
le and a tardy response to the question.
“Everywhere! I want to show you the whole island!”
“Jesus, then why are we running?”
“So we can see it all at once, of course!”
“Or, we could walk and do it a day at a time?”
“I’d rather do it all today.”
“I’d rather still have my legs,” Barry retorted.
“Oh come now, you’re not so weak that you’d lose your legs after a run.”
“Look. I like a good jog as much as anybody, but I need to sleep. We’ll continue this tomorrow, alright?”
“In the morning?” Xanathen raised a suspicious brow.
“Yeah, in the morning, we’ll do whatever you want,” Barry sighed, “Just let me sleep.”
Xanathen’s shoulders slumped as his lips curled. Finally, he nodded with a smirk, then without a word, bounded off into the woods. In a matter of seconds, he had vanished over the horizon, leaving only Barry and the sound of the ocean in his wake. Barry shook his head and slowly—resting his throbbing legs—walked back to camp for a rest. By the next morning he was feeling good as new and well-rested when Xanathen came by at the crack of dawn to shake him awake.
The two traversed calmly across the island, Xanathen detailing out the things of interest—both large and small. Most of the area Barry had already explored by himself, but with Xanathen to guide him he learned more. Many things he already knew or had pieced together himself, but having the other man’s input fleshed out some gaps in his knowledge. Xanathen pointed out the good areas for gathering fruit, identifying those that were dangerous. Xanathen was particularly excited about areas of shiny rocks, his tone brightened when it came to the apparently precious stones. Quickly transitioning from an informational lecture to a passionate gush about the type of rock, how hard it was, its many uses and so on, Barry was reminded of an old classmate that collected rocks. He hadn’t found them nearly as interesting as his young friend, but now, as an adult, he was at least capable of finding Xanathen’s level of enthusiasm endearing. As a kid he’d just called his friend a nerd and walked away.
The woods seemed less empty and more like familiar territory that he had been through many times before. The stone formations, previously oppressive, were cozier now. Having someone else there made the island seem more hospitable. Somehow it had changed from the lonely place where he was stranded, to more of a temporary home. With each day they explored the wilderness together, the closer to home it became.
Xanathen set an easy pace showing him around, occasionally pausing their tour to do something else. They would sometimes race or wrestle, even showing off their strength by lifting heavy rocks or wood. Xanathen would always win, but Barry gave him a run for his money every time. The two always left a good impression of each other’s skills. Barry, in particular was left in awe every time. Though he couldn’t deny feeling envious of Xanathen’s strength and skill, he acknowledged that it was all in good sport. He knew he could do better if he were at home with a proper night’s sleep and a full meal, instead of just fruits and the occasional fish. He also knew he would do better if he wasn’t so distracted by those captivating eyes and sculpted arms. Not that Barry was attracted to him, of course he wasn’t. It was just that the man was attractive and very charismatic. That was the logic Barry kept using as he thought about it.
The two held large stones up to their chests, standing firmly in their places. While Xanathen stood calmly, appearing to hold the stone with little effort, after a while Barry’s legs began to shake. He soon gave in and dropped the stone with an exhausted gasp; his body trembled as he caught his breath. His eyes darted over to Xanathen who calmly bent his knees and placed the rock on the ground, in complete control the whole time.
“G-Good job...” Barry panted.
Xanathen casually approached Barry who continued to sweat and shake as he hunched over, trying to compose himself. Looming over him and appearing as tall as the trees, Barry noticed that even in the shadows of the forest, his wise eyes gave off a glimmer of kindness.
“Barry, I think I know why you’re giving in so easily,” Xanathen said calmly, his deep voice breaking through the sound of Barry’s panting.
Startled, Barry stood upright, his eyes wide and his still reddened face looking shocked. Sweat continued to drip from his forehead.
“W-What...what do you mean?” he asked, looking up at Xanathen, while still trying to slow his breathing.
“I know you could do much better. I’ve seen you lift other things just fine.” Xanathen’s voice had taken on a chilled tone. “I think I know why you’re breaking down so easily.”
Barry froze as the smooth words reached his ears. He couldn’t bring himself to talk or even smile, as he stood paralyzed. Xanathen chuckled as he casually walked behind him. Barry felt the big man’s breath on his heated skin as Xanathen bent his knees, lowering himself until he was squatting on the ground. He squealed as Xanathen grabbed his legs. The callused fingertips slid up and down, finally deciding on the calves. He twisted them, turning them out in the direction he wanted, until Barry’s feet faced out more.
“There. Your stance was all wrong!” Xanathen declared, squeezing his legs. “Of course, you’d give in easily. I’m surprised you could lift anything standing like that!”
As he stood back up his mohawk carelessly brushed against Barry’s buttocks and then his back, tickling him. Surprised, he let out a gasp. Xanathen instructed him to pick up the rock again, and without even questioning it, Barry bent over and obliged. He held the heavy stone up to his stomach, his arms feeling limp. Xanathen leaned in and wrapped his own arms around him, moving Barry’s to a new position. Holding the stone up felt easier now, but still tiring. Xanathen turned his mouth to the side and spoke calmly, “Focus all your energy on your center. Keep your legs spread and firmly planted on the ground. Let gravity do the work. Focus on your breathing and keep holding on.”
Xanathen’s breath tickled against Barry’s ear, and those strong arms, wrapped around his waist to emphasize his center, felt warm and inviting. He breathed slowly, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He felt heat rise up his face as Xanathen leaned in even closer, guiding his breath by breathing in rhythm beside him. Xanathen held Barry close as he gripped the stone, his legs feeling limp and lifeless, though they felt just fine a second ago. He held the heavy stone longer, his arms wanting to snap while his legs threatened to go loose and spread further apart. Despite that, the position they stood in prevented any such thing, keeping Barry in place within Xanathen’s caress. His face flushed bright red as Xanathen continued to hold him close, feeling large pecs close to his neck and a strong stomach pressed against his back.
His arms finally gave way and dropped the stone right between his legs. Xanathen released him as he began to pant again.
“You did much better this time!” Xanathen exclaimed as he locked eyes with Barry, a friendly smile on his thin lips.
“T-Thanks,” Barry wheezed.
“You’re quite strong actually! I don’t think I’ve ever met someone capable of keeping up with me.” Xanathen chuckled, placing a hand on Barry’s shoulder. “You must have your pick of the women back home, eh?”
“Oh, uh...no. No, not really,” he shook his head and sat down on the ground, still trying to catch his breath and regain control of his fatigued muscles.
“Really? Why not? You’re strong and quite handsome, surely you have someone.”
“Nah. Been on a few dates but nothing ever really clicks, y’know?”
“No, I don’t think I do. What does clicks mean?”
“Well…sure, I’ve seen a few women. They’re nice women, real pretty and all, but I just...I don’t feel anything.”
“Ah. No connection?”
“Yeah, that’s it! I just don’t feel anything.”
“So you prefer men, then?”
“What?! No!” Barry spat. Instantly flustered, he quickly straightened his posture, raising
his head and squaring his shoulders. Xanathen sat unfazed nearby, squatting on his strong legs. He placed his arms on his knees comfortably, and smiled reassuringly at Barry.
“Do you prefer to be with men?” Xanathen repeated.
“N-no! I’m not like that!” he blurted out, “I mean, I’ve got nothing against it, I’m just not!”
“Why are you so upset?”
“I’m not upset!”
“Really? You seem like it.”
“Because you won’t leave it alone!” Barry snarled, sounding defensive.
“Oh. Alright then.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it though.”
Barry rolled his eyes and stood up, stumbling away. Xanathen followed a few paces behind. The two ambled on through the leafy woods. There was silence between them now, except for the call of animals around them. Tropical birds sang out on the breeze and the leaves rustled in harmony. Their footsteps thudded and snapped a stray branch here and there.
“You’re still very handsome. You could have your pick of both men and women if you wanted,” Xanathen piped up.
Barry groaned again, continuing on and simply choosing to ignore the remark. While the conversation made him very uncomfortable, he certainly didn’t hate the compliments.
“Alright, it’s this way,” Xanathen announced, pointing in front of him.
“You said that a while ago,” Barry said, shaking his head.
“We would’ve been there by now if you hadn’t insisted on looking in all those caves,” Xanathen pointed out, his voice completely calm, as usual.
“Okay, that was your idea. You were the one saying there were all these rare stones in there, which by the way there were not,” Barry teased.
Xanathen stopped dead in his tracks and looked Barry in the eye ending the subject with a no-nonsense statement, “You should have stopped me.”
Barry rolled his eyes again as he continued to walk. Xanathen had mentioned something about a waterfall a couple of days ago. They would have been there sooner had it not been for their constant distractions with the surroundings or giving in to episodes of horseplay. As they walked, Barry stopped in his tracks when he saw the giant mountain that loomed over the entire island. He had attempted to explore it once before and failed. But with more food in his stomach, the passage of time, and his improved outlook now that he wasn’t alone, he felt confident enough to confront the colossal fixture of stone once more. He left the intended path, veering in the direction of the mountain. Pushing bushes and branches out of his path, he crunched forward until the trees cleared. The foot of the mountain stood in a dirt-clad clearing. Even the trees stood some distance away from it, as if in fear of its awesome power. He craned his neck to look all the way up to the top. The jagged grey mountain folded over itself in sharp ridges, until meeting together at the very top where the tip seemed to poke through the clouds. Near the top was a large hole, giving the mountain an expression of agony. Bright tropical flowers of fuchsia and scarlet bloomed on bushes clustered around its base, the bright color clashing with the cold stone oppressor.