Perfection

He had then surprised them with a bottle of champagne and enthusiastic embraces, when he found out they were actually on their honeymoon. Cam had insisted on Benito and Lucia joining them.

Then the night porter joined them, and a young lad who had raced in, his eyes big as moons, after spotting the Ferrari parked outside.

Lucia had seemed surprised when the young man chatted in excitement to Cam and Frankie about the car, and begged to be allowed to wash it the following day.

He worked in the gardens normally, but Benito had agreed.

Lucia quietly explained to Frankie and Cam afterwards, that the lad was autistic and struggled with people he didn't know. He usually avoided guests, and she had never seen him so confident and animated with strangers.

Apparently, he did have a passion for cars, though.

Cam was glad they had escaped with only half a glass of champagne each, as he was already weary and a little lightheaded.

"Wow. Aren't they all lovely," Frankie said, coming out of the bathroom after freshening up.

He bounced onto the bed beside Cam who was waiting, having already got himself sweet smelling and minty fresh, and was half reclined and trying not to doze off.

"Italians are very tactile though," Frankie added.

"Like that bothers you," Cam snorted, as he clumsily pushed Frankie's towel aside wanting to get to flesh.

Frankie laughed. Low, tired and a little husky. "I've never turned down a hug in my life." His head flopped onto the pillow, even as Cam took his dick in hand.

Cam smiled and snuggled in next to Frankie, his breath faltering slightly when Frankie gripped him in return.

"Let's just take it easy, yea? I'll get my second wind in a few," Frankie suggested. Twisting his wrist in just the way to make Cam whimper.

"Hmmm, yes," Cam agreed. Nestling further into the pillow as Frankie's free hand slid into his hair and started to lazily tease.

Cam tried to concentrate on his movements. Frankie's delicate hardness in his hand. But even as he stroked, his eyes grew heavy. The distraction of roaming fingers massaging his scalp, and the tugging on his cock, the answering heaviness in his tummy and his balls.

It just all felt so good.

-X

Cam woke with a smile on his face.

A little pissed off with himself for falling asleep the previous night, but his arms were tight around a relaxed Frankie, and hilariously his cock was still gripped (thankfully gently) in Frankie's hand.

Stubborn son of a bitch, Cam thought as he kissed Frankie's hair and started to disentangle himself. He had to win, literally everything!

Cam frowned at himself in the bathroom mirror as he cleaned his teeth. Mainly because it was really hard to clean your teeth when you were grinning, and he couldn't seem to stop. So he glared his most ferocious 'Paso' glare as the brush hummed.

When Frankie skipped into the bathroom, he stopped dead, a look of shock on his face. "What's wrong. Oh my God, what's happened?"

Cam cracked up and half spat, half coughed, toothpaste into the sink and down his chin. Cursing and gesturing for some paper towel.

"What's going on?" Frankie asked, still concerned as he passed the towels over.

"Nothing, I was just practising," Cam reassured him.

"You looked really angry."

"I woke up too happy," Cam explained, laughing again at Frankie's eye roll.

"Of course. That makes sense. Not!"

Cam just laughed and decided not to explain further. A little mystery is good in a relationship, yes? And he didn't want Frankie to become too big headed.

"Nuoo-wower?" Frankie asked him around his own buzzing brush.

"No. We will only have to shower again after the gym," Cam answered. Understanding him perfectly.

Frankie nodded agreement and turned to spit.

Just over an hour later they both piled into the shower, following a brief scuffle in the doorway.

Sweat soaked clothing fell to the floor. They were both still winded from their work out.

Frankie got the prime position and therefore control over the temperature, as Cam was disadvantaged by the tie on his shorts pulling into a knot.

"Shit! Bastardo" Cam cursed as the extreme heat immediately peeled away three layers of skin.

"Don't be such a baby," Frankie teased, as the water pounded over his head and shoulders.

Cam put his hand through the spray, thinking to reach the shampoo, but swore again and pulled it back. "No, I'll wait for you to finish," he told Frankie and made to leave the shower.

"But," Frankie gave an exaggerated pout and eye roll. "Okay, I'll turn it down."

Temperature now at non lobster broiling levels, Cam lathered up and shampooed Frankie's hair. Watching the white suds slide over Frankie's dark skin.

He chased them with his hands. His fingers pressing and slipping into the groves and ridges of Frankie's toned shape.

Frankie held his shoulders for support and just grinned. Like a cat, soaking up the attention.

After several long minutes, Cam simply slapped the bottle into Frankie's hand, as a sign it was time to return the favour.

Smirking, Frankie did so.

When Frankie's fingers slipped up and down his crack, Cam groaned deep in his throat and bent slightly, his hands braced on the wall.

"Hmmmm," Frankie considered, and angled the shower head a little before another bottle clicked and Cam tensed slightly as slippery fingers teased and dipped slightly into his hole.

"Did you really being lube in the shower?" he wondered.

"Yea, so like, be careful. It's about to get super slippery in here." Frankie gently put pressure between Cam's shoulder blades as he spoke, and Cam sank down, his butt sticking out, as the clever fingers dipped deeper.

"Fuck," Cam breathed, as his body tensed and then released, allowing Frankie deeper access.

"Actually." The attention paused as Frankie stepped out of the shower and picked up both of their dirty tops. Cam lifted one foot and then the other as Frankie placed the clothing on the shower floor for grip. Before pushing Cam back down.

"Safer," he concluded, dribbling more lube.

Bent double now, with water soaking his head and shoulders, and two of Frankie's fingers diving and twisting in his ass, Cam was fast becoming lost to sensation.

He pushed back as Frankie pushed in, teasing until he was begging.

Finally Frankie slipped his fingers out (three now, Cam was frantic), and gripped his hips.

"Please, Frankie. Fuck, please," Cam begged. Moaning again when Frankie pushed deep.

The grunts and slaps of water soaked rutting echoed around the bathroom. Cam's legs shaking as Frankie nailed his prostate thrust after thrust, until he felt he would combust.

"I'm cumming. Cam, I'm cumming, can you cum?" Frankie gasped, his hips jacking fast.

"Si. Now. Cum. Thank you," Cam huffed out, and then half sank as pleasure flooded out of him and all down his legs, even as Frankie's heat flooded into him.

Cam shook his head and walked his hands back up the shower wall, pathetically grateful as Frankie's arm around his waist, helped to drag him up.

"Did I break you, big guy?"

Cam could feel Frankie's body shaking. He felt his face flush, as he knew Frankie was laughing at him. "Sorry, my legs went funny."

"Got your feet under you now?"

"Si," Cam nodded and tipped the shower head back to cover both of them, before turning and leaning against the wall. "Oh fuck off," he complained at the look of absolute delight on Frankie's grinning face.

"Did you just THANK me?"

Cam merely held up a finger, which made Frankie laugh harder.

"I mean, I could start charging if it's that good."

"It just slipped out," Cam tried to defend himself, then rolled his eyes when Frankie indicated his cock.

"Well, yes. It always does once I'm done," he sniggered.

"You are impossible," Cam told him, but he was smiling now as well.

Eyes dancing, Frankie leaned in close and their smiling lips met in a messy, awkward kiss as the water rinsed them clean.

It was Cam's stomach growling that ended the kiss.

"Yea, me too," Frankie told Cam's mid-section seriously, making Cam chuckle.

It was more like an early lunch, than a late breakfast, and they were both trembling slightly by the time they ate. Purely from hunger.

Once refuelled, they slathered sun cream on each other, and then headed out for their paddleboarding class.

It was great fun.

After a couple of unplanned re-entries (into the sea), they quickly found their balance and were taken on a paddle tour by their guide, Mark.

Mark had such a strong Australian accent, that Cam was totally reliant on Frankie to translate using facial expressions and hand signals.

Mark also had a tight butt and a ten-borderline-twelve-pack. Both Cam and Frankie were giggling so hard when they caught each other's eyes, that Mark asked them with concern if they had been drinking.

Frankie, who wouldn't recognize subtle if it mugged him, admitted they were just horny and he, Mark, was really cute.

Thankfully, despite being straight, Mark wasn't at all offended and spent the next two hours teasing them with ab flexing, on board squats, and other forms of posing.

"You're a good sport," Frankie told him, as they shook hands and said goodbye.

"Hey, if it gets me the tips," Mark had joked, before thanking them and moving off to collect his next booking.

Frankie and Cam headed for the patio bar, and settle with tall icy glasses, needing some shade.

"Enough of a work out?" Frankie asked as he relaxed back on the lounger.

"For today, yes."

"So are you missing Muriel. Missing work?"

Cam laughed. "She is very nice. I don't mind dancing with her, but she's not vey good compared to Beth. I really miss Beth."

He turned and looked at Frankie's profile. All dark glasses, cheekbones and sassy sensuality. "I think you should lend me Mia for some of the dances," he suggested. His stomach knotting in almost painful lust, when Frankie's grin flashed.

"No chance."

"Just the one's you are not very good at."

Frankie gasped before he covered it. Turning slowly to give Cam a dark look over the tops of his glasses. "Fuck. You." He said sweetly, before blowing Cam a kiss.

Cam laughed so hard he nearly dropped his drink.

They relaxed and chatted until dinner started, and then bloated their tummy's on pasta, fragrant bread and wine.

Cam marvelled that they still had so much to talk about. Mind you, they were both so busy. Since the Paris competition ended, they were sometimes like the ships that sail past each other at night.

After dinner Cam took Frankie's hand and tugged him back outside. Leading him down to the sand to sit under the half-moon and listen to the ocean.

They cuddled and kissed. Cam loved the lack of urgency. It felt almost sedate, but so beautiful. He was relaxed almost to the point of falling asleep.

"Come on you," Frankie's voice jolted Cam.

"What?"

"You're starting to snore. You wanna spend the night on the beach?"

"Was I dozing?" Cam loved that word. Some English words were quite cute. Frankie had taught him 'spunk' which he used as much as possible. Cam frowned now, his mind wandering to things like there, their, they're, which just made him want to chew through his wrists.

"Spunk," Cam stated with certainty.

"Cam. Wake up!" Frankie giggled in his ear, rousing him further.

"Oh, sorry." Cam took a deep breath, surprised at just how weary he was. "Bed I think." He let Frankie pull him to his feet and guide him inside.

-X

A sudden blinding pain assaulted Cam. He made a strangled sound, like an indrawn scream. Cutting it off as his skull, teeth, and neck nearly disintegrated at the noise.

With no further warning his stomach rose through his throat and he crashed out of the bed, jarring every bone in his body, reaching in a literal blind panic for the nearby bin before his body completely betrayed him.

For what seemed like forever, he sobbed and retched over the bin. Choking on staggered breaths, the impossible pounding in his head, ripping through his whole body.

When finally his body was exhausted and empty, he became aware of Frankie's hand on his back, just resting there, and his cautious, "Cam? That's it, I'm calling a doctor."

Careful not to move his head, even a little, Cam croaked out, "No. Just a migraine."

"Just! Sorry," Frankie added on a whisper when Cam flinched.

Cam reached out and felt Frankie take his hand. "Can you help me onto the bed? There are some pills in my wallet."

"Okay. You're right by the bed, here." Frankie took his right hand and lifted it, pressing his palm against the mattress. "I'll help you."

Cam allowed Frankie to half lift him, as he half crawled back onto the bed, before gingerly sitting up. He felt Frankie guide his hands so he was gripping the edge of the bed, before he moved away.

Even the sound of Frankie rooting through his jeans made him wince.

"In the zipped pocket," he directed in a quiet voice. He heard the popper on his wallet, and then the zipper. "I need two pills."

"There's only four. I can't read the name."

"It's fine, I know what they are." Cam held his hand out, palm up, nearly crying with relief when he felt Frankie place two pills. "I'll need water straight away," he said.

"Hold on," the normally barely audible sound of a water bottle being un-capped, drilled through Cam's head. "Okay, I'm right here ready. I'll put the water in your left hand."

"Si," Cam acknowledged, concentrating on not nodding his head. He picked up the two pills and placed them, immediately feeling the water in his hand and gratefully washing them down, before taking a long drink.

"Grazie," Cam muttered, not realizing he had slipped into Italian. "Sdraiarsi." He felt weak and swimmy. Not hearing Frankie's soft answer, but feeling his strong arms supporting him as he lay down, and the pillow being arranged.

A gentle touch on his hair and he was gone.

When Cam next woke, he was on his back covered by a light sheet, a cool cloth was on his head. He fiddled and removed a damp cloth with an icepack enclosed.

Blinking, he peered cautiously. Deeply grateful to find the room cool and gloomy. The curtains were drawn against the light. A breeze slipping through the edge, but a chair stopping them from moving enough to let the light in.

A fan was blowing on him from across the room. Soothing, rather than drafty.

He turned his head, very carefully, relieved when it stayed on his shoulders and saw an icy jug of water and his wallet with his pills placed on top, waiting for him.

He sat up slowly. Shaking and nauseous, but not actually sick. Moving to the side of the bed and pouring some water. The jug went down with a bump and he swore softly. Almost immediately the curtains briefly parted, and Frankie came in from the balcony.

"You woke up. Yay!" he whispered. Like he was joking, but Cam could read the concern in his eyes.

"It's passing," he reassured. "How long ago did I take the pills?"

"Five hours ago. It's two pm."

"Jesus," Cam forgot not to shake his head, immediately regretting it. "Okay, I can take some more." He popped the final two pills and drank deep again.

Frankie perched next to him, looking worried. "Do you have more pills?"

"I won't need them. It will get better now."

Frankie nodded, not looking convinced. "Should you eat?"

Cam wrinkled his nose, he wasn't in the mood, but Frankie had a point.

"I have some fruit salad here. It's quite plain. Can you eat some of that?"

"That sounds perfect. I'll try," Cam smiled as Frankie dashed to the kitchen area and came back with a plate.

"Room service made it up for you."

"Thanks," Cam nibbled on a piece of apple, and instantly felt ravenous.

He ignored Frankie's dark eyes watching him as he ate. Bade him wait, as he staggered to the bathroom, and stumbled back like an old, drunk man. And held his silence until he had lain back down and taken a deep breath.

Then he met Frankie's eyes. "You should go out, for a walk or to the beach. I'm going to sleep again. I promise it will get better now."

"I can wait with you."

"Frankie, please don't waste the whole day. Go get some fresh air, I'm just going to sleep another couple of hours. Maybe we can have dinner in our room tonight?"

"Will you be able to eat properly?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Cam worked up a smile. "And we can talk later. Is that okay?"

"Yes, okay."

Cam smiled, satisfied and closed his eyes. Then opened them again when Frankie didn't move. "I thought you were going to walk?"

"Sure, when you are asleep."

Cam just rolled his eyes, and reached behind him, lifting the sheet, "Come on then." Unable to hide the smile when Frankie grinned, whipped off his shorts, and slipped into the bed behind him.

"Afternoon nap. How decadent," he murmured.

Trying to despair of his over protective husband, but mostly filled with happy-snuggleness, despite the lingering pain, Cam just smiled and slept.

It was warmer when he woke again. The breeze was still tangling the curtains, but the room felt little closer now. Stuffy.

He rolled and looked at Frankie, who was sat next to him, resting against the headboard and sketching in swift, sure strokes.

"What time is it?"

Frankie glanced at his watch, "Seven. It's gotten a little muggy."

"You can open the curtains now, that will help."

Frankie nodded and went over to tug the curtains apart. Soft light and more of a breeze floated in. "It will cool down soon."

"Hmmmm," Cam was distracted. Having pushed himself to sit, he was studying the sketchbook. Simple pencil lines had captured his uncovered body draped across the sheets.

His hair was tousled, his (slightly exaggerated) cock was half hard, and his lips in a slight pout, belying the innocent face. "Do I really look this young?" he asked, running a finger over the figure.

"Yes. When you are asleep. Then your eyes open and the wicked kicks in!"

Cam smirked a little as Frankie squeezed back next to him. "This looks like innocence that has just been ravished. What were you thinking about?"

"Ravishing you," Frankie whispered in a husky tone.

Cam smiled, his laugh very weak. "Maybe tomorrow."

"It's a date," Frankie promised, placing the pad to one side before looking back to Cam with an expectant expression.

Cam sighed. "I'm sorry Frankie. I haven't had a migraine in years, I didn't think. I didn't expect it."

"You had pills," Frankie pointed out gently.

"Probably out of date. They must have been in there for well over five years. Longer?"

Frankie frowned his disapproval, but thankfully didn't nag. Which Cam knew meant he must look really rough.

"Do you have triggers?" Frankie asked, then his expression darkened to accusation when Cam winced.

"It was probably the wine last night," he admitted.

Now the expression changed to confused. "You drink wine sometimes. You had wine at Bella's?"

"I buy organic wine at home, and so does Bella when I am visiting. Probably the hotel's wine is not organic. I just didn't think. It hasn't happened in so long."

"Leeds," Frankie said with sudden inspiration.

"I'm sorry?"

"Or Sheffield. Leeds or Sheffield. That would have been around six and a half years ago. I found Beth wandering the hotel. We were both quite new, but of course you snapped her up before anyone else got the chance! She was hungry, but didn't want to go in the restaurant alone. There was a loud stag party and they were making her too nervous to go outside. It was dark. April maybe?"

"Ahhh," Cam murmured as his brain caught up.

"I asked why you weren't taking care of her and she said you were sleeping. That you were ill. I bet that was your last migraine."

"It probably was," Cam admitted, feeling guilty. "What happened with Beth?"

"I took her into the bar and brought her dinner. They kicked us out at midnight, we were having so much fun. Her whole life experience was so different to mine, it was fascinating."