Conscious Decisions of the Heart

by John Wiltshire

  When he was done, he swallowed and licked his way back up to Ben’s neck, kissing deeply into the warm hollow. He rolled onto his back with a small grunt of pain and heard Ben ask in a slightly concerned voice, “Okay?”

  Nikolas wobbled his hand, a concession, and then added, “Some of the hallucinations are quite entertaining. Twelve hours are passed, no?” He wasn’t happy to hear that, unfortunately, they hadn’t. Ben suddenly stood and pulled him to his feet then encased him in a powerful hug. Nikolas took the embrace in the spirit it was offered. Accepted and welcomed, it made him forget his pain and stay ahead of the fear that was haunting him for a few moments longer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  In the end, their holiday destination was decided by what was available at such very short notice. It was a beach, a lagoon, and a luxury hut over the lagoon with guaranteed sun. What more did they need to know? The first flight was for twelve hours, then a change at Changi airport, and then another four hours to a place neither of them had heard of nor could spell. Both used to travel and travelling first class, the trip posed them no particular worries. More of a problem for Ben was leaving Radulf. He could tell the dog was depressed, and insisted everyone stop laughing at him when he said this. Radulf did appear even more anxious and sad which was saying something for a dog whose default setting now was nearly blind and badly scarred. Ben was on the point of cancelling the whole trip when a ring on the bell solved the problem on the afternoon before they had to leave. Nikolas never demeaned himself to answer the door unless he was expecting Ben, so he waved imperiously at him to do the honours. Ben dutifully got up, but before he could get the front door fully open, heard, “Fuck me, but this is some fucking posh place. Fallen on your fucking feet here, Diesel.”

  Tim, who’d been going through final house-sitting details with them, shot Nikolas a very shifty look and rose uncertainly. Radulf struggled to his feet far more certain and skittered into the hall to greet his third favourite human. There was a lot of swearing, and then they came into the kitchen, Squeezy with a holdall. He didn’t appear to notice Tim, who theatrically ignored him in return.

  Nikolas chuckled. “I’ve been outmanoeuvred by the SAS. I can sink no lower.”

  Ben caught this as he entered, and buoyed on Radulf’s return to happiness, he came over and kissed Nikolas’s hair. “You’ve had five years practice, you should be used to it.”

  Nikolas had never been kissed in front of two other men before. He’d certainly never been teased by Ben in front of two other men. Ben suddenly realised what he’d done. He froze, scrunching his face and trying to think of something to say to ease the moment. He needn’t have worried. Perhaps relaxed by the thought of escaping the rain and the cold, Nikolas merely swatted him—albeit harder than could be called wholly affectionate—and told him to fuck off with his little friends and play. Ben did. He took Squeezy on a tour of the house, showing him how everything worked and jokingly pointing him toward the second spare bedroom, knowing very well it wouldn’t be used.

  § § §

  They packed that night. Nikolas took a while to decide which identity to travel on, and opted in the end for Christian Beck once more. He had a suspicion the inquest on Aeroe would be held while they were away, and he wanted it to be seen clearly they were on the other side of the world and couldn’t attend. Besides, he’d grown rather fond of Christian in some ways, sad man that he was, jealous of Nikolas Mikkelsen, needing the services of a male prostitute, beaten up by a librarian…The guy deserved a holiday.

  § § §

  The airport service picked them up the next morning. Despite Squeezy’s presence, Ben was still anxious about leaving Radulf. He wasn’t impressed when the last thing Nikolas said to his two dog sitters was: “If you become fed up with him, here’s the address and number of the shelter. He can be returned at any time, even though he’s now slightly worse for wear.”

  They climbed into the car. Ben suddenly told the driver to wait and returned and snatched the paper out of Squeezy’s hand. “Don’t you dare!” He looked down. In Nikolas’s beautiful cursive handwriting was a detailed and thoughtful list of everything anyone could ever want to know about looking after Radulf: his favourite food, where to walk him, what to do and not to do to help his blindness, what programmes he liked to watch, where he slept…Ben bit his lip and returned the list to Squeezy, tapping it. “Op orders, soldier.” Squeezy saluted. Daddybark was in very good hands.

  Ben climbed in beside Nikolas and told the driver to go. He would never embarrass Nikolas in public by presuming on their relationship, but taking a punt their driver didn’t speak Danish, merely said, “Jeg elsker dig.” Nikolas gave the tiniest of smiles and then stared out of his window and watched wet, dark, miserable London flowing by.

  § § §

  Nikolas was a very easy person to travel with. He read or sat thinking. Ben wasn’t the perfect travelling companion, but as they’d never flown together before, this was all new territory for them. Nikolas might have predicted twelve hours of sitting still wouldn’t suit Ben, but even he wouldn’t have guessed just how annoying Ben could be.

  In accordance with his new policy of more openly admitting their relationship, Nikolas occasionally allowed Ben to touch him and, in return, would let his hand rest on Ben’s armrest, and once or twice flicked his ear when he returned to his seat. They always spoke in Danish now when in public, reasoning the chances of anyone understanding them were lower than if they spoke English. So it was slightly disconcerting for Nikolas that Ben decided to tell him what he intended to do to him when they reached their destination. This would’ve been all well and good had Nikolas not amused himself on Aeroe teaching Ben the wrong words for many things, just as he’d deliberately mistranslated the porn movie. However, a few hours later, Ben made up for everything by agreeing as twelve hours had passed in local time, Nikolas could have his pills. Nikolas could have kissed him, and as he decided no one would care anyway, he did—a brief lean across and brush of their lips.

  At Changi, Nikolas was pale and strained. Flying and severe lack of sleep, he’d discovered, didn’t do much either for hallucinations or headaches. They made their connection flight. Ben wanted Nikolas to sleep on this leg, but he refused, the stress of travelling not as bad as the fear of being vulnerable. He had a window seat and spent the four hours staring out, a vein throbbing in his forehead, his fists clenched. They arrived at last on the island, a place of such contrast to what they’d left they were both utterly disorientated, Ben almost more than Nikolas, for by this time, Nikolas was concentrating only on staying on his feet and not embarrassing them both in public.

  § § §

  The hotel transport took them along unmade roads that wound around the coast and through jungle until they came to a broad sweep of a shallow, pale green, translucent lagoon. The lagoon was sparingly dotted around with large huts on stilts, each one only accessible by shallow-bottom boat or by swimming for the energetic. They were taken to one of the huts, the furthest one from the beach, given a welcome brief neither listened to, and were then left to their own devices. Nikolas immediately and silently went to the bed, lay down and pulled the pillow over his head. It was well over forty degrees, and the light was so bright, the colour so vivid, Ben felt he was hallucinating himself. Although it was only lunchtime, he reckoned Nikolas had the right idea. He stripped out of his suit and slid naked onto the bed next to him. He gently extracted Nikolas from the pillow, loosened what clothes he could for him, and then, unsure of where they really where or what they were doing, he lost the rest of that day and most of the hot night to follow.

  § § §

  Ben woke to find himself alone in the bed. It was exceptionally hot. He was sweating and sat up, panicked. He shot naked across to the front deck above the lagoon. Something rose from the water at him. He tripped back and was seized around the waist and kissed. He assumed it was Nikolas, so he kissed back, but he hardly recognised the figure holding him from the exhausted ma
n he’d arrived on the island with. He’d never seen Nikolas in a swimsuit, for a start, and decided that was something he’d definitely never get tired of looking at.

  Nikolas had apparently woken a couple of hours earlier to a sunrise over the lagoon and warm, shallow, green water over white sand that stretched further than he could see. He’d never swum in warm water. As he told Ben, for a superb swimmer, it was something of a novelty. Unable to resist, he’d already swum a couple of miles and was now hungry—mainly for breakfast, but also for Ben.

  Before Ben had time to process he was on a tropical island, therefore, he was back in the hot bed on his belly being given a more enjoyable wakeup call. When they were done, they lay in the sticky heat, hearts coming down from the rush and bodies languid with the sex and the startling warmth. They heard a boat and watched with fascination as two young men dressed in white unloaded trays of elaborate breakfast on their deck and then discreetly drove away again. Nikolas turned his head to one side, staring at Ben. “Have we died?”

  Ben pursed his lips, thinking. “It’s better than I ever imagined heaven. How are you feeling?”

  “How do I look as if I’m feeling?”

  “Well, I think I’m hallucinating you now anyway. You look…incredible.”

  Nikolas smiled to play down the compliment. He held out his palm. “Sadly, I’m not as well inside as I apparently appear on the outside. It’s been more than twelve hours, no?”

  Ben agreed and rummaged in his bags for more of Nikolas’s wonder drugs, then pulled on some shorts and went out onto the deck to bring in breakfast.

  They had one room, basically consisting mainly of a huge bed. This was hung with a mosquito net, which swathed the whole bed and gave a pleasant illusion of privacy for a hut that had no real doors or windows. Everywhere they looked they could see nothing but green, tranquil water reflecting a light so bright they both had to wear sunglasses, even inside. Everything seemed like a hallucination, the colours intense, the sound of the surf over the reef surreal, the taste of the fruit exquisite. Nikolas, Ben noted with incredible satisfaction, actually ate more than he. There was a first time for everything, apparently. A long, early morning swim had invigorated Nik’s appetite. It had awakened other things as well, for as soon as they were done with the fruit, he pulled Ben back onto the bed. Ben could begin to see how this holiday was going to play out. He wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t complaining at all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Nikolas made it through to the end. He brought them both off, lying over Ben, holding down his shoulders, and then the moment he was done, he just collapsed—out like a light, into a deep, almost unconscious sleep. Clearly he’d had something of a false rejuvenation due to jet lag and time differences. Ben extricated himself from beneath the sleeping figure. He’d never seen Nikolas so deeply asleep and dead to the world. He was sprawled diagonally across the bed, naked on his stomach, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Ben had never seen him look so beautiful, so utterly irresistible, either. But then this was the first time they’d been together in such heat and intense light. Nikolas was bathed in light, every mark on his skin visible. Ben traced his finger lightly down from the scar on his head, to his burn marks and then the shoulder scar and then the one over his kidneys. He looked like an overenthusiastic organ donor. He smiled and watched Nikolas’s face. No reaction at all. He was breathing lightly, and he’d clearly passed to a place of restful healing far beyond Ben’s ability to disturb. With a sigh and a kiss to one firm cheek, he climbed off the bed and went to explore his new environment. He was a bit more compos mentis than the night before.

  § § §

  The hut was entirely surrounded by deck. The back faced the other huts toward the beach and hotel about half a mile away. He estimated there were about twenty huts in all. The side decks had views of the hills surrounding and forming the lagoon, but the front was what clearly gave this hut its premier position. It faced out across the lagoon toward the ocean beyond, and Ben could see and hear a faint line of surf on the horizon, where the ocean met the reef. The deck was totally private. Nikolas would probably claim he’d had someone killed to get this hut over the New Year period at two days’ notice. Ben frowned and glanced back at the sleeping figure. That was probably a conversation best not to have if he wanted to keep his relative innocence about the holiday.

  The hut had no doors and no windows but was entirely open to the sun and sea, just swathed by some sort of see-through white material that blew at the slightest breeze. He went back inside. There was their bedroom area that housed the biggest bed he’d ever enjoyed and a small sitting area in which he discovered a console with direct communication to the hotel alongside an extensive booklet of room service options. Basically, they could have anything they wanted delivered any time of the day or night. He immediately ordered some coffee and a selection of quality English and international newspapers for Nikolas.

  The bathroom was just a screened-off but beautifully appointed shower and toilet, which had a small sign discreetly advising clients nothing from the bathroom went into the lagoon, but was collected in tanks. That was good to know then. He was also relieved to see the bathroom walls weren’t open to the sun and sea. He drew the line at showering in view—as the view in fact—of the other twenty or so huts behind them. That was that. He went back out onto the front deck. A sitting area and a hammock had been provided as well as the small dock where the boats tied up and left their room service. It was like a microcosm life inside a bubble of bright, beautiful unreality, and Ben loved every single thing about it. He went back inside, pulled on his swimsuit, then ran and dived off into the crystal-clear green water. It was like bathwater it was so warm. It was distinctly unnerving to an Englishman for about the first thirty seconds, and then he became entirely acclimatised to it and knew he’d never swim in British waters with quite such enthusiasm again. He wanted to go for a proper swim, preferably out to explore nearer the surf, but he wasn’t going to leave Nikolas asleep on his own in this intoxicatingly beautiful place. Ben knew by now the world was out to kill Nikolas Mikkelsen, and he wasn’t about to drop his watch a second time.

  As he swam back toward the hut, he discovered there was a small boat tied up beneath it. He’d wondered how they were going to get away from the place without swimming. Now he had his answer. He levered himself back onto the deck, climbed into the hammock, and set it swinging—no point not getting a start on his tan. He had a feeling there wasn’t going to be much else to do in this strangely seductive place. A few minutes later, he watched through half-closed lids as the two young men in the boat appeared again and left the requested coffee and newspapers. It was too good to be true. The coffee was superb and had been supplied with a selection of pastries. He knew Nikolas wouldn’t eat them, so he did. He grinned to himself as he wolfed them down. Apparently, his anorexia phase was over. He glanced at the papers—which was all he ever did. No doubt he would hear anything worth hearing from Nikolas once he’d read them.

  It was back to the hammock then.

  If he’d thought the sunrise was beautiful, he was utterly entranced by the sunset that fell over the lagoon as he lay watching it from the deck. It was sudden, falling like someone in the heavens had tripped carrying a pallet of crimsons and salmon pinks and even turquoise. Then it was dark, and all he could see was the Milky Way spread like dense sand grains above. Suddenly, the sea around the hut began to glow. He peered over the railing. Lights were embedded on the floor of the lagoon, illuminating the water around them in a soft green glow. He walked around to the back and saw all the huts were the same, little islands of perfection set inside green jewels, tropical snow globes. He went back in. Nikolas had been asleep for six hours, but now he heard Ben in the room and woke. His usual assessing his surroundings took a while longer this time. The unearthly green light came up through the floorboards, making the filament curtains glow. It must have been disorientating to wake to, so Ben crawled over him and sat on him, bouncing t
he bed, just to make things a bit more normal.

  Nikolas grunted. “What time is it?”

  “Time to get your lazy butt out of bed and entertain me.”

  Nikolas rolled with difficulty until Ben was sitting on his favourite place. “I could entertain you here for a while.”

  Ben shook his head. “I’m starving. We’re going to the restaurant.”

  “And Ben Rider is officially back to normal. Is there anything you value more than food?”

  Ben thought about this for a while. “Nope. How are you feeling?”

  “Like twelve hours is up?”

  Ben frowned. “Are you sure you need one? You’ve just woken up!”

  “Ben, the whole room is glowing green. I don’t tell you all the odd things I see because you’re only a baby and would be scared. Trust me, however; glowing green is unnerving. Give me my pills.”