A Year in the City Ch. 02

Troy is covered up and reading a book, with a long-sleeved rashie swim top and matching tight shorts - he doesn't much like to tan, which he tells us is a cultural thing. James is on his stomach; he, on the other hand, does like to tan and is currently baking his olive skin with ear buds in. He's wearing a cute pair of retro black swimming trunks, skin-tight, with a tiny white belt and red piping. He looks like he owns a Ferrari in the 1950s.

Mine don't cover that much more, they're short and white, hugging my ass and everywhere else. Mason messaged and I invited him to the beach; I wanted to look good for him.

Vic is standing in front of us, trying to get one of us to come in the water with her. Suddenly she begins bouncing up and down and waving, drawing the attention of fifty percent of the beachgoers in her tiny bikini. I look to see what she's going crazy over and see it's Spence, who's drawing the gaze of the other fifty percent.

I've worked out with Spence loads, but he always wears regular t-shirts and long shorts and goes home to shower. I knew already that he has a good body, because you can just tell, but it wasn't till now that I appreciated just how good.

He's wearing bright red swimming shorts, only reaching a few inches down his thigh. His quads are incredible, strong and each muscle perfectly defined. The shorts tie at his flat stomach with a black drawstring, and I have to stop myself from licking my lips at the sight of his killer abs and defined Adonis belt disappearing into them. I sit up as he approaches and offer my hand for a fist bump.

"Looking good," I test the water, "Vic wasn't lying about those shorts."

Spence laughs and does some fake posing, before Vic grabs him and drags him to the water. Hate to see him leave but love to watch him go - the shorts are doing a good job of defining what a perfect ass is too.

They're back pretty quickly; water too cold for Vic. Luckily the fabric of her bikini is good quality - her erect nipples are clearly visible, but it hasn't gone transparent as I feared it might. I wonder if Spence is disappointed, but strangely note that he doesn't even seem to have registered the situation. He sits next to me on the big beach blanket.

"I didn't know you had so many piercings and tattoos," he gestures at my torso. I shrug - I have a few.

"And you never told me you had a tattoo," I respond, "what is it?"

He points at the collection of flowers and leaves intricately drawn in black above his heart.

"They're thistles. My grandparents were Scottish. My grandad was awesome, the funniest guy ever. I spent so much time with him when I was growing up."

"He's not around?" I ask.

"He got cancer. He died when I was nineteen," Spence is sad, his lips drawn down. "As soon as I hit eighteen we went and got these - he had the same one. My mom was pissed," he chuckles at the memory.

"They represented beauty and strength to us. And the idea that it's always worth braving the external difficulties to find something good."

I can see tears glinting in his eyes. He wipes them away, replacing his sunglasses.

"Thanks for listening," he says quietly, "I've never actually told anyone else that."

I lean over to give him an awkward sideways hug. Just then, Mason arrives, plopping next to me on the blanket. I pull away from Spence.

"Hey Mason, glad you could make it," I say, sounding insincere in my own ears.

He doesn't seem bothered, glancing only once in Spencer's direction before greeting me brightly. We all sit for a while, just chatting about this and that.

Jay and Andy leave the water and join us, greeting Mason as they've met him a couple of times now. I see Spence apply sunscreen to his chest and look toward me, before glancing briefly at Mason, and then turning to Jay and asking him to put some on his back.

I apply sunscreen to Mason's back. He's lean and pale but has enough muscle tone for interest and to not look scrawny. It's when he stands he comes into his own, wearing stretchy tight European-style shorts that made his rounded bubble butt pop, on the top of lean and strong runner's legs.

"Come swim with me," he holds out a hand and I grab it, letting him pull me up.

We head to the ocean and I dive into the clear water, coming up for air to see Mason circling me easily with strong strokes. He looks cute wet, with his short hair spiked this way and that, and I grab his hand, pulling him through the water towards me. He easily hooks his legs around my middle and gently kisses my salty lips.

We horseplay for a while, pulling each other under and splashing around. Finally, I have him back round me, squeezing himself against me. We make out, tasting the sea on each other. We pause for breath, and I glance toward the beach, wondering what the others are doing. Mason tips his head to one side.

"So... which one am I playing second fiddle to?"

I look confused, genuinely not understanding for a moment.

He clarifies, "Which one of those guys 'doesn't see you that way' or something, and you're making do with me? I'm going to take a bet on Spencer."

I blush, slightly horrified that it is apparently that obvious.

"It's not like that, I promise," I try to explain, but Mason stops me with a finger to the lips.

"It's okay, really. I know we're just hanging out, and it's not serious. It's just here, now, hanging out with your friends, it's really apparent that I'm barely in your thoughts, even when I'm right in front of you. That's a line I don't want to cross."

He gives me one last gentle kiss.

"I'm going to chill on the beach. Think about it and let me know when you get back. I'm still up for fun, just want to be number one while it's being had."

He swims away back to the beach. I stand chest deep in the water watching as he lays on the blanket next to Spence. I want to call him back, tell him I can do that. But I don't, because the truth is, I'm not sure I can. Trust me to be able to fuck up a fun no-strings hook up.

I swim out into deeper water and cut through with some freestyle. I feel like swimming until I'm exhausted, and I turn and do lengths parallel to the beach. Eventually, I see a paddleboard heading toward me, with Andy straddling the back as he casually paddles over.

"You okay, buddy?"

I tread water beside him.

"Yeah, just being an almighty fuck up, as per."

Andy shrugs at my answer.

"Standard."

I lightly punch his leg.

"Thanks a bunch."

"Always here for support when you need it," he turns and begins to paddle away, before pausing and turning back to me.

"You haven't run Mason past me, by the way, you did promise," he says with a wink, "but for what it's worth I approve. I think it's good that you've gone for a bottom. Tom always topping wasn't healthy - it didn't suit you to be so submissive to him all the time."

Yes, that's us; definite oversharers. I don't bother pointing out that it's not serious with Mason. He's just making sure I'm reminded he's on-side.

"But, seriously, I am here if you need it. I know you're going through some stuff, but you always have good reasons for decisions you make, just try to make the right ones."

It's sweet he's got my back. Even if he's entirely wrong about my decision-making capacity.