22. Nikos

22

NIKOS

I'd exchange all the money in the world just for the chance to immortalise this day. Our last day in paradise. Our last day before we leave and return to our normal lives - not the little pocket of peace we've carved out with one another. The chaotic, awful life I'd been living before.

Oli hasn't realised it, but he's become the best distraction for me. Since the episode the other day when I walked in and saw him on the stairs, I'd not thought about my father and his threats. It was an issue I'd solve when I returned to London. But here, surrounded by old memories whilst making new ones, I exist only in the moment. The lack of phone signal has been cathartic, and we've chosen to leave our phones in the house for the majority of the time.

Last night me and Oli - bellies full of fried squid, chicken gyros, and enough ice cream to sink a ship - decided to sleep on the beach. We laid out on sheets I'd brought down with us, staring up at the star-speckled sky. In the moment, drunk on wine and sugar, it sounded like a great idea. But waking up to a seagull on my chest, starring daggers into my eyes, wasn't the wake up call I imagined.

‘Be gone, demon!' Oli shouts, flapping his arms like a mad man. ‘Do thou not knowith of whomith you… something something… sittith uponith?'

The bird gives a squawk and launches into the air.

‘What on earth was that?' I ask, dusting sand and a few stray feathers off my bare chest. I'm covered in mosquito bites, but I feel happy to have last night marked on my skin.

‘I was acting,' Oli says, lounging back beside me.

I draw him in close to me, planting a kiss upon his head. ‘How did I survive all this time without you?'

‘Luck,' Oli says, planting his lips on the curve of my pec. ‘And a healthy dose of pretty-privilege.'

‘You think I'm pretty?'

Oli looks though his pale lashes at me. ‘Oh shut up, Adonis.'

His hair is lighter than it was before we came, likely a result of the sun-and-lemon combination he boasted about. Turns out, when he was younger and his family took him to the beach in summer, his mom would soak his pale hair in lemon juice as an attempt to get ‘natural highlights'. I mean, it works, I guess. It brightens the blue of his eyes, the colour so vibrant it gives the ocean a run for its money.

‘Last day today - ' I start, but I'm silenced by the press of lips to my mouth.

‘I said, shut up.' Oli hovers over me now, so much that I have to plant my hands on his thighs. With the sun over him, he's haloed in light. I can barely think straight as the rays highlight every pore and mark across his beautiful face. I want to touch him, trace his body with my fingers like I'm moulding him from clay.

‘What would you do if I said ‘make me'?'

Oli lowers his mouth to mine, pressing his torso atop me until we're practically fused together. ‘That.' His lips move to my neck. ‘And this.' He trails his kiss down my chest, my stomach all the way to my navel. ‘And also this.'

Before his fingers tug at the back of my shorts - stained with splatters of ice cream from last night - I stop him. ‘Ah, ah, ah. Who said you've earned that?'

Oli pouts, his pink lips shiny with spit. He's ravenous for me, as I am for him. But today is important, enough that I wish to draw out the inevitable as much as I can.

‘Do you want me to beg for it?'

To prove that no begging is required, Oli palms the hardened length beneath my shorts. I have to snatch his wrist to stop him from making me come too quickly. ‘As much as I enjoy the idea of you on your knees, I have something planned for today. To make our last day special.'

‘Stop calling it that!'

‘But it is,' I reply, huffing a laugh at Oli's dramatic flop back onto the beach. ‘Is the idea of going back to work that painful?'

My attempt to make light of our shared depression doesn't work. Even as I say those words, I regret them. But it's too late - they're out in the open. Now I find myself waiting to hear how Oli will reply.

‘I'll manage,' Oli says, and I feel something jolt in my chest. A pain that I wish to evict, but can't. ‘You? Will you cope when reality hits us in the face?'

‘A pair of black eyes, some bruises and broken teeth - I'd take a lot in exchange for this time spent together. It's worth it,' I say, because what's the point in sugar-coating it? ‘Thank you, Oli.'

‘For what?'

Existing. Being you. Helping me understand myself. ‘Just thank you.'

‘I was expecting some grand declaration of your love,' he replies, his pout now unserious and mocking.

‘Well,' I sit up, sand falling down my sun-kissed arms. ‘We have an entire day left. Maybe, just maybe, that declaration will come later.'

‘What do you have in mind?' Oli asks as I stare out across the calm body of water before us.

‘It's a surprise,' I reply, enjoying the control for once.

‘If it doesn't involve more donkeys, Nikos Adonis Ridge Drakos, I will punish you.'

I snap my attention towards him, letting the devious ideas fill my mind. ‘Careful, Honey. With a promise like that, I might need to change what I already have planned for us.'

He pounces on me, all feverish kisses and grappling hands. We tumble off the sheets, rolling around the sand until we crash, side first, into the gentle lapping waves. Turns out we will be a little late to my plans, because we don't stop laughing for close to an hour.

The midday sun beats down on us, hot and unforgiving. Surrounded by nothing but the endless sea, islands speckled in the distance, not a cloud in the sky, we're forced to hide beneath the canopy on our little boat.

Oli sits on the bench, his legs drawn up beneath his chin, wet hands turning the pages of his book as his hair drips more water onto the crisping pages. I've been watching him for a while, devouring the peach in the cool-box I'd prepared. The juices run down my chin and chest, but I don't care. I'm so transfixed by Oli - how his expressive brow is always responding to whatever scene he's reading.

Right now, his lower lip is caught beneath his teeth. I can only imagine the filth he's reading. I bet good money, though, that it doesn't compare to the thoughts I'm holding for him in this moment.

‘You need to drink some water,' I say only when I know he reaches the end of his chapter so as not to interrupt him. ‘Dehydrating all these miles from any land wouldn't be good.'

Oli folds the page down, marks his place in the book, and puts it down. He hasn't stopped smiling since I brought him to the jetty earlier and revealed my surprise plans. An entire day out at sea, with no one but each other for company. Food, drink, books, swimming. Everything he loved, combined into one experience.

My perfect day, though, simply requires him.

‘And you need to try and get some of that peach inside your mouth,' Oli replies as he takes the bottle of water from the cool-box and lifts it to his grinning lips. ‘You're wearing it.'

I look down, and he isn't wrong. My dark navy swimming trunks are soaked with peach juice - even the dark hairs between my pecs are tangled with sticky the liquid. ‘Do you want some?' I offer.

‘I do,' Oli replies, and I swear my dick leaps in my shorts.

‘Here,' I offer the half-eaten peach, but Oli doesn't take it. Instead, he puts down the bottle of water, gets on his knees as the boat sways, and shuffles over to me. He eases himself between my spread legs, hands running up my shins and inner thighs.

‘I wasn't talking about the peach,' Oli says.

I watch, helplessly in his thrall, as he extends a tongue and traces up over my abs. He groans as he clears the peach juice from my skin, not stopping until his tongue is dancing circles around my nipple.

‘I don't - remember there being - juice on my - nipple,' I groan.

Oli laughs. ‘Oh, silly me.'

I grasp his jaw and hoist him up. The peach is now floating overboard, being feasted on by fish. All I care about is tasting Oli, devouring him as I guide his mouth to mine. The sweet taste sparks across my tongue. I groan into his mouth, as Oli grinds himself atop me. Suddenly, we're arranged down in the boats middle, Oli sitting atop me just as he had this morning when we woke.

‘Now, I should thank you for the most memorable last day.'

I lift my hips, enjoying the press of his arse against my cock. ‘I thought we weren't calling it that.'

‘What shall we call it then?' Oli says, pinning my arms down above my head.

‘The magical day,' I answer, because it was actually something I'd been thinking about.

‘Magical?' Oli echoes. ‘I like that. But snorkelling, reading, jumping into the water and swimming with fish is great and all. But what would really make today magical, is you being buried inside of me.'

‘Is that so?'

Oli nods. ‘Isn't it custom to buy a souvenir when on holiday? Something to mark the occasion, so we'll never forget? This memory will be better than any magnet for my fridge.'

I had plans to buy Oli something to commemorate this trip, but I do something better. I reach into the bag beside me, fingers grasping the cool metal of a phone. It's his, because mine is still back at the house. I haven't touched it since we arrived. But Oli has his today, snapping photos of the boat and the waves and the view of the shore. Except he hasn't taken a single one of us. I know why - he's respecting my privacy. And yet, right now, I couldn't care if the world found out. If this was the life I could have, I'd trade it all, every bit of fame and fortune.

I swipe up on the screen, open the camera app and hold it to our side.

‘What are you doing?'

‘Smile,' I reply, clicking the button three times to capture Oli's natural surprise melt to happiness. I hand him the phone. ‘Now you have something to look back on and remember today.'

His happiness shifts to something else. It lasts only a moment, but there is no denying the sadness which flashes behind his eyes.

‘Are you okay?' I ask, already knowing the answer.

Oli fakes a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. ‘Yes, of course I am.'

He shakes his head as if dusting off the emotion, but it's clearly sunk its talons in deep. ‘If you would prefer the magnet as a memento, I'll get you one.'

Oli sits back, still on my hips, although I fear the sexual tension has ebbed away. He presses the phone screen to his chests, takes a deep inhale and sighs. ‘I just… it's silly but… as amazing as this trip has been, I don't ever want to think about it again.'

I swallow a lump in my throat, wishing to do anything in my power to go back to pretending. ‘I'm sorry if I ruined the moment'

‘No, it isn't you. It's…'

‘Us,' I answer.

Oli looks at me, truly looks at me, and I see the ocean reflected in those brilliantly blue eyes. ‘Life doesn't seem as exciting without you in it, Adonis.'

His words sink into my flesh, carving themselves onto my bones. I know what I need to say back to him, but I can't seem to gather the confidence to say it. Oli takes my silence as a way of me not feeling the same. He gets off me, takes his seat back on the bench and gathers his knees back up beneath his chin.

‘Honey,' I say, numb to my core. ‘I love - ' I almost say it, but I don't. ‘I've loved the time we've spent together. Every moment. Not just here, but back in London. Those are memories I'll never forget.'

‘You will,' he says, sniffling. ‘And you should. You're Nikos Ridge, superstar, heartthrob. You'll go home, meet a lovely woman, make headlines, and have a beautiful family. And I'll be forced to go back to work and stare at your face whilst working on the campaigns you're plastered all over. You can run away from me, but I will never run away from you, not even if I want to.'

It's my turn to kneel before Oli. I clamber up in front of him, desperately laying my hands on his knees. ‘I'll come back to you. No matter what happens in life, no matter where it goes, I will always visit you.'

‘As your little secret?'

I nod. ‘You'll always be my little secret.'

Oli draws back. ‘Dirty secret.'

My eyes widen and I know I've worked myself into this trap. ‘No, not like that. I didn't mean it like that.'

Oli fakes a smile as if this had been some joke and he didn't care, but there was no hiding the true pain in his eyes. ‘I'm playing with you, Adonis. We both have our own lives. This has just been a little bit of fun to tide us over. Real life was always going to come knocking, we both knew that when we got into this. We've always had an expiry date.'

‘Oli,' I say his name as though I'm begging.

‘I think I'd like to go back to the house now, please.' Oli stares out at the ocean, blinking rapidly. ‘I've got to pack before tomorrow's flight. And anymore sun exposure and I'll get sunstroke.'

‘We haven't finished this conversation'

‘Yes,' Oli says too firmly, ‘I have. Now please, Nikos, take me home.'

Take me home.

I want to tell him that his request is impossible when I'm his home. Or he is mine? The concept of turning my back on him is impossible, but I know the risks - I know what I have to do.

‘If I could promise you one thing, Oli, what would you ask of me?'

He takes in my question. I find myself holding my breath, unsure how he will answer. When the words finally come out of his mouth, I feel my world shatter.

‘Never come back for me,' Oli says, his harsh words contradicted by the soft hand he runs over my face. I sense his regret, his pain, and yet he still wants to offer me comfort. Like the kiss of a mouth, while a knife is stabbed through my chest. ‘It will be too painful to see each other again. For the both of us. I want you to move on. Be happy.'

‘Is that what you want?'

Oli looks away when he replies. ‘It's best for us both.'

‘What's changed?' I ask.

‘Nothing changed, Nikos. We both knew this was coming. And as much as I have loved every moment too, it is best we save the precious memories and move on from them… before…'

‘Before they become impossible to ignore?'

Oli blinks and a single tear runs down his face. ‘Yes. Exactly.'

‘Okay, Honey.' I push myself to standing, feeling sick to my core but not from the swaying boat.

‘Okay, Adonis.' Oli offers that smile again and I swear it shatters my fucking heart. He extends a hand to me in offering. I don't know what it's for until the final word comes out his mouth. ‘Deal?'

‘Deal.'

Oli picks up his book, opens the page again and hides himself in the pages. Although this time, I know he's not reading. His brows don't move and his eyes don't linger over the lines. They stay glued to one spot in the book as he attempts to conceal the tears rolling down his cheeks.

I'd experienced heartbreak before, but nothing like this. As I navigate the boat back towards land, I feel myself cracking little by little, until the pieces of me are scattered across the ocean for the creatures of the sea to feast on.