An Island in the Stars

by Susan Laine

  “True.” His curiosity piqued and he just had to know. “Marcus, this might sound kind of stupid but… I don’t know what your major is.”

  Marcus chuckled. “What? You haven’t been keeping tabs on me?”

  “Shut up.”

  “I can hardly do that and answer you,” Marcus teased softly. “But if you must know, I’m majoring in classical studies and history. I was happy Whitefish Lake College offered courses on both. In any case, I would have thought talking about hieros gamos and Greek myths would have made my scholarly interests obvious.”

  Sam stared, eyes wide, mouth agape. No, he hadn’t known that. And just what the heck was—oh, hieros gamos had to be the Great Rite Marcus had mentioned earlier. He flushed with heat and was unable to offer an intelligent comment.

  Marcus went on as if unaware of Sam’s weird thoughts. “I always wanted to study ancient civilizations. They’re fascinating. The history, the religions, the society…. Cool stuff. And we Americans owe so much of our cultural heritage to them.” Then he chuckled wickedly and winked at Sam. “Although, if and when we get home, I’m going to take some new minors, like… electrical engineering or forestry or… or fucking survival skills.”

  Sam laughed at that. Marcus was great, no doubt about that.

  “What’s your major?” Marcus asked then, shaking Sam out of his reverie.

  “Oh, uh, natural sciences, with a minor in art.” Two things he loved combined. How could Sam resist?

  As the moment of silence stretched between them, Sam replayed the talk they’d just had—and he realized he’d mentioned boys’ love a number of times. Basically he’d left the door wide open for Marcus to deduce that Sam was gayer than a unicorn riding a rainbow.

  A rumbling thunder rolled above them, shaking the ground and the temple. Lightning flashed, turning the room briefly bright as sunlight. Sam jumped at the sudden sound, trembling and rattled.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, chipmunk.”

  Sam shook his head in frustration. “First of all, you don’t know that. I’m a realist, and the kind of ridiculous and unfounded optimism you display is what landed us in this mess and will likely get us both horribly killed. So how can you possibly believe everything’s magically going to turn out sunshine and roses?”

  Marcus ducked his head. “Well, I don’t believe the universe is out to kill us, for one. I don’t expect the worst-case scenario to befall me every second of every day. I think the universe, gods, spirits, magical mojo, whatever, is giving us every chance to come out on top.”

  Sam hesitated. “I don’t think I could be so….”

  “Sanguine?”

  “How do you even know that word?”

  Marcus looked away. “You mean why aren’t I a brain-damaged jock with a learning disability and the mental faculties of a fetus?”

  Sam hadn’t meant that. He wasn’t surprised that Marcus knew the meaning of the fancy word, but rather that someone as active as Marcus had such a philosophical turn to his thinking. Come to think of it, though, maybe that was just as poor an assumption. Sam guessed he had failed to deliver his message. Again.

  Confused, Sam backpedaled as fast as he could. “I didn’t say that!”

  “Maybe not. But you were thinking it.”

  Sam bristled at the accusation. “Oh, you’re a mind reader now?” Marcus gave Sam an admonishing look. To hide his own delicate emotional state, Sam continued, “Firstly, I don’t think you’re stupid. Even if you are a jock—which doesn’t mean anything. I know I might not always act like it, but… I respect you and your intelligence even when you try to hide it.” When Marcus opened his mouth to intervene, Sam hurried to get ahead and add, “Second, I really, really hate it when you call me chipmunk.”

  “Why? It’s an affectionate nickname.”

  Sam stared at Marcus in gobsmacked disbelief. “What?”

  Marcus smiled softly, casting weird goo-goo eyes at Sam. “The nickname reminds me of when you smile. Your cheeks get bigger. It’s cute. I’ve seen it a few times over the years, though you rarely do it in my company. Nonetheless, I’ve stored the images in the old memory banks.” He tapped at his temple and winked.

  Sam might have squeaked. He kept opening and closing his mouth, his brain fried, the words on the tip of his tongue practically glued on. “But… why?”

  This time when Marcus smiled, wide and seductively, there was zero chance anyone, even an inexperienced dum-dum like Sam, could misinterpret his intent and meaning.

  Sam swallowed hard. “Are you saying you’re… gay?”

  Marcus nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am. Well, I suppose I’m bi since I’ve been with chicks and dudes. But I’m leaning more toward dudes. Funny but I’d have thought us talking about yaoi and boys’ love would have been a dead giveaway….”

  Sam balked, full of disbelief, and stammered, “But… what about all those girls you’ve dated over the years?” Marcus frowned and cocked his head, looking confused, so Sam added, “Like, uh… Zoe?”

  Marcus’s brow smoothed as he chuckled. “Oh, her. When I went out with her, she was in her rebellious phase ’cause her parents wanted her to date an egghead or a rich dude. I wasn’t considered either, so….”

  “Okay. What about, um, Kayla?”

  “She preferred older guys, like in their twenties or thirties, and still does.”

  “Mindy?”

  “She’s a lesbian and dating Una in secret. I was her beard.”

  Sam shook his head in bafflement at all this news. “Glee has lesbian cheerleaders, so Mindy being attracted to girls shouldn’t really be a shock anymore.”

  Marcus laughed. “How do you know all their names? Even I don’t recall the names of every girl I’ve dated over the years. But you… you have them memorized?”

  Sam coughed to hide his embarrassment. The truth was, he’d been keeping a close eye on the girls surrounding Marcus. It wasn’t like he wanted to be a girl and seduce Marcus (though he had once or twice had a sex fantasy like that), but he had wondered what Marcus saw in them. What aspects in a person was he drawn to?

  And could Sam somehow maybe reproduce those aspects in himself?

  “So, um, are you sleep—uh, seeing anyone from school?”

  Marcus shook his head. “Nah. I don’t shit where I eat.”

  Sam admitted he was both relieved and disappointed. Marcus wasn’t currently having sex with any girls or guys at school. But… he also wasn’t dating anyone from their school, and apparently wouldn’t as a general rule. That school chum category included Sam—and disqualified him from the prospective boyfriend pool. Dammit.

  Then Marcus grinned seductively. “Of course, I’ve had to revise that rule since….”

  Sam frowned with expectation, sitting on pins and needles. “Since… when?”

  “Since you grew up so cute and fine.” Marcus’s flattering smile widened into a naughty grin. “Just. My. Type.”

  Sam seriously considered having a stroke.

  Chapter 9

  MARCUS WATCHED Sam reel from the news. He started to think he’d phrased his desires improperly and scared the guy off. “You okay there, Sammy?”

  Sam swallowed and blinked, repeating the moves several times. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out—not so much as a peep. Marcus got anxious. Had he unwittingly caused Sam to lose his shit completely?

  Marcus decided to soften the blow. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out just now. It’s just that I… I like you. I’ve liked you for a few years now.” His hope faded. “I… I thought you might feel the same. I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to upset you this much. Just forget it, okay? Forget I said anything.”

  Sam’s brow scrunched in a desperate frown, and his eyes watered. “Y-you didn’t mean it then…?”

  “I did.” Marcus was out of his depth. Every girl and guy he’d ever dated had been way less trouble than this. They’d all been pretty willing to fall flat on their backs for him at the drop of a hat. But Sam wasn’t l
ike that, and Marcus knew it. “Look, bae, I really am sorry. I did mean it ’cause I do like you, a lot, but… it’s not like you’re obligated to…. You shouldn’t feel pressured to….”

  “I think that’s about the third time you’ve called me bae.”

  Marcus stuttered to a halt, which was probably good since he was rambling without a clue as to where he was headed. He’d never been this much at a loss for words before. “Huh?”

  Sam hesitated briefly, as if unsure. “You did call me bae before, didn’t you? The first few times… I thought maybe I’d, like, misheard or something. It barely registered ’cause we were in pretty serious situations at the time. But this time I’m sure.” Sam had never looked so utterly confused and sad, and Marcus didn’t know what to do or say to make him feel better. “H-have you called lots of guys… bae?”

  “No. Never. Only you.” That reply gave Marcus back some of his self-confidence. The truth had a calming effect on him. “You’re my one and only bae, Sam.” Briefly he wavered over the foolishness of saying that when they weren’t dating and Sam might not even want to be with him.

  Sam frowned, disbelief and suspicion evident in his haunted gaze. “How many g-guys have you… been with?”

  “Three. You don’t know them. They don’t go to our college. And it wasn’t… I mean, it was just getting off and basically me figuring out what my body wanted. None of us were, you know… in love. We just….”

  “Fucked.” Sam spat out the word like something vile from his mouth.

  Marcus had to accept he’d totally misread the situation, Sam’s feelings, and maybe his orientation too. Guess the guy wasn’t gay, or if he was, he wasn’t into Marcus. “Yeah.”

  Sam said nothing. He simply stared, his expression closed off, his lips thinned and his eyes ablaze.

  Blinding flashes of the storm periodically illuminated the confined space, which started to feel claustrophobic to Marcus. He couldn’t explain the accusation he saw in Sam’s eyes. Regardless of the motivation behind that look, perhaps it was time to admit defeat.

  Marcus stood awkwardly, feeling like his limbs weren’t his own. “I’m, uh, gonna take a look outside to see if the storm’s clearing anytime soon.” He stepped to the doorway, not daring to look at the sole other person on the island. “I won’t go far so… if you need me or anything, just holler.” Their relationship had just become a hell of a lot more awkward, and it was all Marcus’s fault. He’d gambled and lost.

  Before Marcus could walk out and be alone with his depressing thoughts, Sam stood in a rush, gripped his arm, and prevented him from leaving. “Wait.”

  Marcus stopped but didn’t look at Sam. “What?”

  Sam released him slowly. “I… I’m your… bae?”

  Finally Marcus faced Sam, resolve in his heart. “Yeah.”

  Sam worried his lower lip, hesitating before asking, “So you… like me?” he asked, his tone tentative and small.

  Marcus smiled shortly. “Yes. More than like, actually.” When Sam remained silent too long for his comfort, Marcus added, “Look, I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. It’s okay if you don’t feel—”

  “I’ve wanted you since I figured out I like guys, which was when I was nine.”

  Sam’s sudden outburst warmed Marcus’s heart so much it skipped a beat. “Really?”

  Sam looked terrified, his eyes wide, his skin pale, his stance rigid. But he nodded despite the deer-in-the-headlights expression.

  Marcus smiled joyfully, a great weight lifted from his shoulders, relief washing over his senses. Leisurely he rested his hands on Sam’s hips and drew him closer, till their bodies touched. It was amazing and powerful and intoxicating and world-changing.

  “Really?” he repeated, wanting to hear Sam say the words out loud, to confess he liked Marcus as much as Marcus liked him. But his smile never faltered because he doubted that any amount of nervousness would force Sam to take back his admission.

  Sam swallowed and nodded, a tiny frown between his eyes, as though he still wasn’t sure of the reception. “Y-yes. I… I like you a lot too.”

  Marcus could have sworn that wasn’t what Sam had intended to say. The second that thought hit his brain, his heart supplied the answer. Sam’s in love with me.

  And that idea sparking to life in his head made Marcus dizzy with want.

  Voicing his desire, however, proved arduous. “Look, Sammy—uh, Sam. I don’t want to rush…. I mean, I know this is hardly the time or place for… you know. But I—”

  “Sex?” Sam blurted out of the blue.

  At that straight-to-the-point utterance Marcus could only laugh and nod. “Yeah. That’s what I was going for. Unless you don’t want—”

  “I do. Right now.” Despite his red cheeks, sweaty paleness, and withheld breath, Sam looked steadfast, determined, and… totally freaked out.

  Marcus swallowed hard, desire buzzing in his brain and body. “There’s some stuff we won’t be doing.” Sam frowned, tilting his head in obvious puzzlement. “You’re only seventeen—”

  “Yeah, seventeen, not seven,” Sam cut in, pouting.

  “—and I’m twenty, so—”

  “You’ve been twenty for, what, two weeks?”

  “Three. And a half.” This time it was Marcus who pouted.

  Sam rolled his eyes and snorted. “Well, I’m sure those three-and-a-half weeks make all the difference in the world now that you’re not a teenager anymore.”

  “Legally—” Marcus argued.

  “Are you kidding? Look, I’m already legal at home in Montana. And even if that weren’t the case, we’re stuck on an alien moon for who knows how long. No cops here to arrest us, no lawyers to sentence us, no parents to scold or ground us.”

  “Regardless,” Marcus said emphatically, “we’re not doing anal. For one, no lube, and two, no condoms.”

  Sam blushed, his irate state vanishing. “Well, even if we had those things, I… I’m not ready for that. It’s not that I don’t want to, you know, someday, but at the moment….”

  Marcus smiled in relief. “Well, good. ’Cause neither am I, having never done it. Before we do… that, I need to do, like, research and stuff.”

  Sam chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. “Like what? Gay porn?”

  This time Marcus blushed. “Did I say that?” Yeah, he’d totally meant that, but no way in hell was he going to admit it to Sam, the annoying know-it-all.

  Marcus wound his arms fully around Sam’s waist and back, pressing them together in full-body contact. He rested his forehead against Sam’s and for a moment just let himself revel in how good Sam felt, their skin touching, their breaths mingling, their bodies growing hotter and harder by the second.

  Then, without warning, Marcus’s mouth was full of Sam’s insistent tongue. In fact, Sam pretty much jumped him, climbing Marcus’s body like an ozzie up a tree. Marcus was forced to cup Sam’s butt in order to prevent him from falling.

  Hot damn, but Sam was a great kisser. Marcus could never have imagined such talent and power behind Sam’s kissing skills. Sam sucked on Marcus’s tongue and lips, upper lip one moment, the lower a heartbeat later. He licked over Marcus’s teeth and across his palate; he fused their mouths together so tight not even an air molecule could have snuck in uninvited.

  Marcus was instantly suspicious.

  Tearing his mouth away, he breathed out, “Where’d you learn how to kiss? And with whom?” He couldn’t keep the burning jealousy from his tone.

  Sam blinked as he pulled back to look Marcus in the eye. “A-are you… jealous?”

  “No. …Maybe. …Yes!”

  Sam’s eyes shone with amusement, and his smile could have lit up the night. “Oh, Marcus, you’re mad. There’s no one else. There’s never been anyone else.”

  “Kissing’s not the kind of skill one learns on their own, if you know what I mean.”

  Sam blushed fiercely and coughed to clear his throat. His gaze darted around the room without settling anywhere. �
�Well, that’s not exactly true….”

  Marcus frowned, puzzled by the response. Then it hit him. “Hand or fruit?”

  Sam ducked his head farther, hiding his face. “F-fruit. P-plum and… m-mango.”

  Marcus smiled softly, though Sam couldn’t have seen the gesture with his downcast eyes. “I bet they didn’t taste as sweet as I know you taste. Oh, and by the way? Nothing to be embarrassed about. Or do you think I came up with those choices out of thin air? For me, it was the hand. In fact, I learned to do most sex things with my hand before doing anything with a real person.”

  Finally Sam looked up, hesitantly, as if trying to be as small and inconspicuous as any guy possibly could. “R-really?”

  “Yeah.” Marcus kissed Sam because he had to or his heart would stop beating. “And bae? You’ve learned some mad skills. Kiss me again. Kiss me like you mean it.”

  Sam apparently didn’t need to be told twice. He smashed his lips against Marcus’s and sealed them together. His tongue delved, his teeth nibbled, his lips savored. Marcus was fast losing control. He wanted Sam naked, the way he’d imagined for so fucking long.

  Marcus slipped his hands underneath Sam’s T-shirt and felt an expanse of smooth skin he couldn’t wait to put his lips to. Sam moaned into the kiss, and Marcus felt weak in the knees. He craved everything with Sam, but the last remnants of his sensibility stopped him. The recent memory of their frank discussion about anal, among other things, was fresh on his mind.

  “Um, anything you don’t wanna do? What’s off-limits, Sam? ’Cause I want you so bad it feels like my blood’s boiling. But fuck if I want you to regret anything we—”

  Sam whimpered and went lax in Marcus’s arms. “Naked. Now. Please.”

  It wasn’t much of an answer, but it was a start. Marcus chuckled as he yanked Sam’s T-shirt off and dived straight for the button on his jeans next. They hadn’t been in the jungle long enough for their clothes or bodies to stink yet, so Marcus scraped his teeth against Sam’s neck, needing to taste his skin and flesh.

  “Oh God,” Sam murmured, throwing his head back to give Marcus better access. His hands roamed wildly over Marcus’s back, gripping at times, flailing at others. “Need….” He didn’t even finish his sentence before he fisted Marcus’s T-shirt and began pulling it off.