“I expected more scars.” Peter’s face reddened slightly at having been caught staring.
“Would you like there to be more?” Silas teased, and then his throat tightened when a swell of water pushed against him.
Calm down. This was nothing compared to the waves he used to ride.
“Doing okay?” Peter asked. He’d drawn closer, water gleaming off his well-muscled shoulders. “Let me know if you need any help.”
“I will,” Silas said. The waves lapped in the ocean, small and harmless, and the dark cave looked inviting among the rocks. “I want to swim there, if I can.”
“Of course.” Peter grinned. “The old make out spot, I’d imagine.”
That had to be a hint. “We’ll see,” Silas said. He hoped he wasn’t reading Peter wrong. “I’d like to see if it’s still as cozy as I remember.”
Peter nodded. He submerged himself and powered ahead with a confident breaststroke. Silas swallowed down sudden nerves and old memories of the last time he’d been in the water, in this same ocean.
The water had swirled around him in every direction. His ears and head had exploded with pain, and he’d had no idea which way was up. It had taken him days after the accident to get his equilibrium back.
He pushed the memory resolutely away. A wry smile came over his face as the water swelled again, threatening to topple him. After he’d become a cyborg, he’d felt so strong and confident again. But when he remembered the power of the ocean, he realized how small he truly was.
He only had to give in to it, just like surfing. Work with it, and not fight it, and coexisting would be easy.
Another wave swelled, and he kicked his legs, pushing off from the sand. His body was heavy, his arms and the metal in his chest weighing him down, but he could do it. Old instincts, honed by years of swimming as a child on this very beach, helped him to flow into a powerful stroke, catching up to Peter.
Peter nodded and swam onward, both men chopping through the waves. It wasn’t far to the cave, but swimming took time, and Silas was breathing hard by the time he found the familiar footholds that marked places where he could stand.
“Bring back memories?” Peter asked. He tossed his head, flecks of water spotting the dark cave walls. The ceiling was dark, marred black by soot from past bonfires. How someone had lit a fire here, where wood would have to be taken through the ocean and then dried off, Silas had no idea. They must have used a boat.
“A lot, actually,” Silas said, leaving the water. The air here was cool, the interior hidden from the sun. “I liked to relax here. It’s isolated and peaceful.” Quiet, too, the cave deep enough that the rushing sound of the wind over the ocean was lessened.
“I think everyone does. At least, everyone who can make the swim. And you said you were afraid.” Peter raised both eyebrows.
“I was. At least, I was all that time ago, after the accident. But I guess... fear fades.” He’d thought it would come back. “I also had good times here. I don’t know if I could surf, but... maybe after so long, only the good memories still make an impact.”
Peter nodded. “I know you were kidding earlier, but you really were kinda famous. Or at least, you are now. People still talk about you—they say you could have entered surfing championships. You were fearless, and talented. And you took too many risks, I guess. But it was mostly good stuff. Just hearing about it all, I wanted to meet you. The guy who surfed in a tropical storm when he was eighteen? I mean, wow.”
Silas’ face reddened. “I wasn’t the only one surfing that day,” he said.
“Yeah, but the other guy wiped out early and went in. You surfed for hours, or so they say,” Peter said with a grin. He flopped down on the floor of the cave, and crossed his legs.
Silas followed suit, sitting close enough to touch the other man if he wanted. “Who is they, by the way?” he asked. “All these people talking about me. I’m likely only famous because I nearly got killed when I was twenty.”
“Not true. I mean, yeah, that was talked about.” Peter looked up at the cave ceiling, then back to Silas. “But you were talked about because you were so talented.”
Silas twisted his mouth. “Were, huh?”
“Whoa, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know. I guess I just miss it sometimes. Mostly since being home.”
“I thought all cyborgs were bored of Earth. Done with terrestrial life, ready to live in the stars?”
Silas ran a metal hand over the stone floor, feeling the grittiness of the sand people had tracked in. “Some, maybe. But we all come back, even those who do multiple assignments. I still love the ocean.”
“You should surf again.” Peter voiced the wish he’d been afraid to. “Why not?”
“I go back in a few days. My visit is only temporary.” Silas met his eyes.
“That’s a shame,” Peter said, a faint red flush creeping up on his neck. “I would have liked to spend more time with you.”
It was time to take the risk. Silas placed a heavy hand on Peter’s knee, then trailed a finger slightly up his thigh, a careful promise. “You can spend time with me now, if you want.”
Peter’s mouth immediately turned up. “I’ve never been with a cyborg before.”
“Few people have.” Silas moved his body so that he faced Peter, but was careful not to look imposing. He leaned on one arm, inviting Peter to make the next move. “But I’m human where it counts.”
Peter hesitated for just a moment, and Silas noted the familiar once-over that people always gave him. A glance at his chest, then over his metal arms, estimating his strength. Then the calculating look at his legs and groin.
But Peter didn’t hesitate for long. He reached out, leaning forward, and put one hand on Silas’s chest. Then their mouths connected.
Silas’s body responded immediately. Peter’s lips were so soft. The sensation of another man’s mouth against his sent goose bumps sweeping down his neck and a rush of heady enjoyment throughout his body. He’d heard other cyborgs talk about this. The first kiss from their loved ones—or even just a fling in the case of those who didn’t have a partner—after years of so little human contact was like water for a man dying of thirst. But until now Silas hadn’t known how badly he needed it. Suddenly he wanted all of it, all of this—Peter, the ocean, the sand beneath them, and his old life as a surfer without a care in the world.
Silas opened his mouth, and Peter seemed to sense what he needed, probing with his tongue. Silas closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation of the other man, his taste and scent and touch. He reached forward, pulling Peter close, heat sweeping through his body from every point they made contact.
“Whoa,” Peter gasped, and pulled away from the kiss, looking over Silas’ hands and arms in a new light. “You’re strong, man.”
Right. Silas tamped down the fire that was building in his groin, taking a deep breath. He needed to control himself. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean... I can take it slow.”
“I didn’t say that.” Peter’s blue eyes twinkled. He leaned forward again, putting one hand behind Silas’s head. Silas let him control the kiss this time, relishing the sensation and letting his own urges for more contact pass through him without immediate gratification. That, too, was enjoyable, and for a time they kissed, their mouths open and tongues exploring, while listening to the sound of their breathing mingle with the rush of the waves.
The pleasure grew, and soon it was almost too much. Silas broke the kiss, breathing hard, his body aching for more. He groaned, adjusting himself.
“It’s been a while for you, yeah?” Peter asked, eyeing the obvious bulge in Silas’ too-tight pants. At least Peter was hard too, his erection outlined against the fabric of his swimsuit. Silas could barely tear away his eyes to look at the other man’s face.
“Almost ten years,” Silas said. “Sorry if I’m going too fast, I... I didn’t expect to find a fling here.”
Peter r
aised an eyebrow. “A fling, eh?” He gave a small half-smile.
Silas’s face heated. Maybe it really had been too long. Other cyborgs had talked a lot about how good sex and closeness felt after so long, but no one talked about how to carry on intelligent, intimate conversation.
“Relax,” Peter said with a low chuckle. “I used to live in Eleport, remember? We’d get cyborgs coming back from long trips all the time. I know you’re not staying here for long. I do hope, though”—and he began to stroke Silas’ chest, trailing his hands down his stomach—”that I can make you not forget me, even when you’re back up there and taking libido inhibitors again.”
Silas took in a shuddering breath as Peter’s hands moved down his body, and then began to unbutton his pants. He couldn’t stifle a moan as Peter’s fingers brushed his aching erection, and soon enough he was free of his clothes, cool air washing over his legs. It did little to quench his burning desire.
“No modifications on your legs?” Peter asked. “Why did you wear long pants in summer?”
“It... it matched the long-sleeved sweater,” Silas said. He didn’t mind how silly he looked, too focused on taking in every detail of Peter’s body. Some cyborgs liked how other cyborgs looked, not minding modifications, but Silas had always preferred normal men. Peter was gorgeous, with stunning muscles and a butt so well-sculpted Silas could see the outline of it through his tight swimwear. Silas licked his lips, his erection throbbing with need. In his mind’s eye they were already fucking, Peter below him as Silas thrust hard into that gorgeous ass.
“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” Peter said, and Silas blinked, focusing. Peter grinned, then knelt on his knees and hooked one thumb into the waistband of his swim trunks, pulling them down and exposing his hips. “I’ve seen looks like that before.”
Silas swallowed hard. At least that meant Peter had experience.
“As much as I’d like that, look around.” Peter gestured up to the rock wall and then down to the stone floor, which was dusted with sand. “Not exactly comfortable. But if you impress me... well, maybe we can head over to my beach house.”
Silas fought not to moan his appreciation as Peter slipped off his swimsuit, revealing a long, thick erection bordered by blond curls. “I’d be happy to impress you,” he said.
“And I want to impress you, too,” Peter said, moving close and touching Silas’ face. “Let’s see how much control you have, cyborg.”
He leaned forward and kissed him, and at the same time reached down and stroked Silas’s length. Silas gasped, and Peter silenced him by intensifying the kiss, capturing his moans and low hisses of pleasure as he stroked him with teasing fingers.
His hands were so soft. Silas had jerked off since he’d been back on Earth, of course, but always with something to make his metal hands softer. But nothing could compare right now to the soft yet sure strokes of Peter’s hand on him. Silas shuddered, fighting not to buck his hips.
It wasn’t fair, he realized through his haze of arousal, that he was so desperate and Peter hadn’t gotten much in return. Silas didn’t want to risk using his uncomfortable hands on Peter, but there was more he could do.
He responded to the kiss with more ardor, bringing his tongue into it, wrestling with Peter’s. He let waves of pleasure wash over him as Peter stroked him, but his touches were still teasing. As far as Silas could tell, Peter wasn’t going to try and make him come, at least not yet, but the teasing was torture, and it had been so long...
Silas reached up and put his hands on Peter’s sides, guiding him with just enough force to convince him to let go. He grit his teeth, his cock aching with frustrated need. “Do you want me to suck you off?” he asked. “I want you to enjoy yourself too, and... I might come soon. It’s been a while.”
Peter smirked, his face cherry red. Then he nodded. “Let’s get the desperation out of both of us before we head back to my place.”
Happiness swelled in Silas’s chest, and he helped Peter lie down on the stone floor, hoping there was enough sand to cushion him. He trailed his tongue over the other man’s body, noting a few scars here and there that were likely from past wipeouts. When he laved Peter’s nipples, Peter gasped, the first sound of uncontrolled pleasure Silas had heard from him, so he spent extra time on them, Peter’s moans and gasps music to his ears, before moving down toward the real prize.
He didn’t tease him too much, licking Peter’s long cock only a few times before taking him in his mouth. He was afraid of gagging at first—he hadn’t done this in nearly ten years, he thought with wonder, not since leaving for Europa.
“Don’t stop,” Peter said between gasps, the muscles of his thighs tense under Silas’s powerful hands.
If he wanted more movement, Silas would give it to him. He bobbed his head, sliding his mouth up and down Peter’s thick shaft, using his tongue to lick the head whenever he could. Gagging wasn’t a problem, especially when he kept moving, kept licking. Peter’s moans made it better, and Silas’ lips thrummed with sensation. He was so turned on that hearing how good Peter felt made his own arousal even stronger. Precum dribbled from his cock as he sucked the other man.
Peter’s body tightened, his cock hardening even more in Silas’s mouth, and then he gave a choked moan that may have been, “I’m coming.” Silas let Peter fill his mouth, sucking a few more times before letting him go.
“Wow,” Peter said, his chest moving with heavy breaths. “Has it really been almost ten years for you?”
Silas grinned at the praise, even if he wasn’t sure Peter was being totally honest. “I liked doing it, too. Hearing you moan...” His cock throbbed at the memory. He needed to come so badly.
“Let’s hear you then,” Peter said, and sat back up, his hands returning to Silas’s cock. Silas gasped, his eyes fluttering shut. Peter wasn’t teasing anymore.
“I... I won’t last...” It may have been Peter’s plan to return the favor and suck him too. But instead Silas began to shudder, and gasp out, “Yes, more, please,” and Peter kept using his hands, his soft, wonderful hands. Silas leaned back, his head swimming with ecstasy, and he couldn’t stop himself. He came hard, erupting with cum that spurted through Peter’s fingers and spattered the cave floor. It was both too quick and seemed to go on forever, a satisfying rush.
“Wow,” Peter said again, staring at his cum-covered hand and the cave floor. “Don’t tell me you haven’t come in nearly ten years.”
Silas shook his head, catching his breath. “Not quite. But you’re the only other person during that time.” He thought of Dr. Severian, who’d offered to “help him work off the inhibitors” before he left Europa, but Silas had been too embarrassed, preferring to pleasure himself. He’d been an idiot to refuse, he decided, or maybe he was still a little under the libido inhibitor’s effects.
“Do you have any more left in you?” Peter asked, his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Because if you can swim back, I’d like to see what else you’ve got.”
Silas smiled, a flash of heat going through him that promised to kindle once he recovered. “I still want to fuck you,” he said.
Peter nodded. “Good.”
* * * *
The water didn’t scare him. Silas paused in the ocean, treading water, taking in the experience for a moment before he followed Peter back to the beach. He let the memories flow through him as small waves lapped at his shoulders and neck.
He had been twenty, nearly done with his studies in college, and had driven up to his grandmother’s beach house to do what he always loved to do—surf. He hadn’t known what his future would hold, had no post-graduate plans other than finding an easy job nearby with the help of his new engineering degree. He’d just wanted to surf.
The day had been rainy and windy, not at all like today. He’d sought out the danger, paddling his board over to the rocks. People called the area wipeout cliffs because even though the rocks were small, the terrain beneath the water made the waves bot
h bigger and more unpredictable. He knew now from studying water currents how the sand and shoal must look beneath the waves, just large enough so they would rebound on themselves and grow in size, like a strange sort of resonance.
But he hadn’t known then. He’d swum out, his board strapped to his ankle with cord. He felt a familiar old pang at the memory of the loss of his board, snapped in half.
The wave hadn’t looked that big. But as he’d ridden, it had grown both bigger and faster. The water had bucked him, almost, and even now he wasn’t sure if it was due to the formation of the ground beneath the water or if he just lost his balance.
But when he fell, he’d hit rocks. His ribs and shoulder were crushed, his eardrums blown out from the pressure of the wave hitting the rocks after he did, a life changed in under a second.
The memory swelled and rushed like the water around him. He remembered the horror of losing his arm, the surgeries... and the offer from the government.
“Look at this as an opportunity.”
He’d refused. Of course he had. Become a cyborg, lose more of his natural body, sign his life away to the government, and live in space? He knew how people felt about cyborgs. Unnatural, not well socialized, even insane... the stereotypes were still prevalent, even today.
But then he’d come home, his replacement arm weak. He’d gone to the water near his grandmother’s house, always a source of comfort.
His fear then had drowned him even more effectively than the waves had. He couldn’t get near it. That was when he’d known his current life was over, and the offer from the government suddenly didn’t seem so bad.
And then the memory rushed away, the wave moving on. The fear had faded.
“You coming?” Peter called. Silas let the memories go. He smiled, taking in the sight of the attractive blond as he emerged from the sea onto the beach.
A Brief Vacation Page 2