In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at marin.giustinian@laposte.net. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
HAPPINESS HAPPENS
by Marin Giustinian
Simon Love comes from the upper Chesapeake Bay area, Havre de Grace, to be exact. He's the second son of an excellent shipwright. As a babe, he played in the curly wood shavings on the floor of his father's boat building workshop and shed. He learned the trade alongside his dad and older brother after school. When high school graduation came, like everybody, he had to make up his mind about what to do after. He just couldn't do it. He was depressed, mixed up and angry. His relation with his high school boyfriend had gone on the rocks. The only thing that cheered him was the idea of building his own boat and leave the bay to go see the world. He had no secrets with his parents. He told them everything. They understood his dismay. He was lucky. They backed him completely.
During the following year, his father paid him the hours he put in working for the business. With his pay, he was able to finance his own boat on which he worked every minute of his spare time. The more he concentrated his attention on building his boat, more the pain of his sentimental wreck diminished. He swore to his brother, "Fall in love? Never again! When I'm alone, at least I'm in good company!"
He studied the charts of the intracoastal waterway heading south. Maybe he would go all the way to the Bahamas. Maybe...
His sharpie sloop, a typical nineteenth century Chesapeake Bay sailboat, was a little masterpiece. His father and brother praised his work. That really encouraged him! She already had a name : Bel Ami, and living up to her name, she had to be a very beautiful friend, as simple and as reliable as possible. Her shallow draft, with her weighted center board pulled up, made any creek and cove accessible and with it down, she was stiff to the wind, able to tack upwind with ease.
From the cockpit, going into the cabin, Simon installed, on port side, a tiny wood stove he could use to cut the chill in winter. On starboard, there was a small slicker closet. Further to the bow, he had his water pump and sink, cupboard and a one burner Coleman gas cooker. Beneath, there was the slop jar and pan. In the middle, the narrow keel box, between two facing benches was also a drop leaf table. The alcove in front of the mast was a large bed surrounded by storage compartments. Under the lifting lids of the benches he had storage space too. Everything he needed had its place. Only half of the storage space was used. He could double his belongings aboard if he wanted. He didn't want to. He enjoyed not being being laden! There was full storage space too around the cockpit for lines, sails, sun tarp, tools, etc. In the bow, there was the anchor well and chain. A very simple little 10hp diesel inboard was his auxiliary. He could take on forty gallons of fuel and seventy gallons of water. All in all, Bel Ami was a very livable boat, perfectly adapted to the coastal waters wherein she was destined to cruise and to house the man who created her.
The first of June was Simon's twenty-first birthday. Bel Ami, was launched that day. The whole family, cousins, aunts, uncles, co-workers and friends swung a big party for the event, showered him with all sorts of very useful gifts and wished him all the luck in the world. After the knockdown trials and consequential last touches were finished, he simply sailed away, light as a lark on wing.
He had planned to have no plans. He wanted to just go and see what shows up, what happens. He was heading south, and that was it. Having grown up in a very liberal family, he felt that it was his duty to be concerned about the state of the world. His grandparents met at Woodstock and were big-time protesters against the war in Viet Nam! His parent were environmental activists. Now, he felt disgusted by the way his America seemed to split and rot. One of the reasons why he and his boyfriend began to disagree was because of that. His former lover, unlike him, was closeted, conservative, climate skeptic and very class-conscious. Simon felt a compelling call to kindle a new revolution. The two boys worlds exploded like colliding stars...
On his way south, he sailed as much as he could. When the going was too tricky, he used the motor. At night, he'd anchor wherever it was safe and accessible, avoiding the crowded, yachtsy marinas. His hobby, creating male necklaces and bracelets, kept him busy before sleep caught up with him. He figured he could peddle them later.
He had been under way for three weeks, when, between Georgetown and Charleston, South Carolina, a stray piece of rope choked his prop, snarling the rudder at the same time. No motor, no sail... Thank God, he had with him on deck, not only a docking stick but also a sculling oar. The sea breeze pushed him to the shallows on the edge of the channel and he made his way up the creek leading to the village of McClellanville. There he found a little public dock where he could tie up. He was in only about three feet of water. He was considering the idea of weighing down the bow, making the stern tilt up enough for him, waist deep, to cut the rope and free the tangles. Then a guy showed up.
"Need help?"
Zan Beauregard, 17, ran errands around town for people with his motorcycle. He systematically checked out every boat coming in to see if they needed anything.
"Yes, I do! I'm really glad to see you! Yes, I need some weight."
"Weight?"
"Yeah, I snagged a stray line out there in the channel. It's all tangled in my prop and rudder."
Zan leaned over, looking at the rudder and stated, "Shit happens! What are you gonna do?"
"Well, if you stand up there as far as you can, out on the bowsprit, I'll get in the water. Your weight should make the prop and rudder rise enough for me to cut all that crap out."
"Sounds good to me. What'll you give me for the service?"
Simon was a bit taken aback by the fact that the kid was asking to be paid, but then reconsidered, seeing that he did look a bit needy.
"How about ten dollars?"
"You got a deal! I'm sort of skinny. Better go bag some sand. Extra weight! Do you need a good knife?"
"No, I got one."
"Be right back."
While Simon was changing into his bathing suit, he thought to himself that the young fellow was really quite comely! He was thinking also that the guy's accent was priceless, that it sounded like honey if honey could talk...
About a half an hour later, Zan's motorcycle swayed to a stop with a sandbag flopped over the rear wheel.
"Wow! You look really loaded, man!"
"Ha! Loaded! That could mean a lot of things, you know!"
Simon laughed saying, "Come on, let's get the job done."
Zan draped the sandbag over the bowsprit and then went out to the end, holding on to the forestay. Bel Ami raised her stern quite nicely, just like Simon had imagined. He slipped into the water and while he was slicing through the knots, he could see Zan intently examining the boat.
"There! Job done!" stated Simon.
Zan cut the sandbag open emptying it in the water. He hopped back on the pier and scrambled over to help Simon, trying to climbing up on the dock.
"Better start your motor to see if there's any damage to your transmission. Is your prop warped?"
"No, it's fine. You're right about the motor."
The motor started and the transmission in forward, neutral and reverse worked perfectly.
"I'm gonna go rinse off and grab us some beer. You can stay a minute, can't you?"
"I can stay more than a minute, if you want! There's a hose and spigot down there. Be careful! The hose has been in the sun and the first spurts of water can scald your balls off."
The expression made Simon chuckle and cringe at the same time.
"Thanks for the information! Make yourself at home. I'll only take a minute."
He washed himself all over and when he came dripping back, he saw Zan fiddling with the tiller. He pulled the beers out of the cooler, gave one to Zan, saying, "By the way, my name's Simon, Simon Love... from upper Chesapeake Bay."
"I'm Zan Beauregard, from Georgetown, just about twenty-five miles north... but I live here now."
"What do you do here?"
"It's a long story, Simon. Mostly, I run errands for folks."
"You finished school?"
"Like I said, it's a long story... School nearly finished me, man! Ha!"
By Zan's tone, Simon understood that he shouldn't pry anymore.
Still holding the tiller, Zan asked, "How did you get a boat like that? Are you rich or something?"
"Made her myself. My dad's a shipwright. That's how I learned the trade."
"And now you're just bumming around or what?"
While he spoke, Zan kept on stroking the tip of the tiller.
"Well, it's a long story too! Ha! I see you like my tiller."
"Weird, never seen anything like it! Was it you who carved the grip like a dick or did it just come that way."
"I carved, sanded and varnished it. It's a copy of my own cock. I enjoy keeping a hold on it. It's a man's boat after all."
Zan lifted his hand, looked at it, then at Simon's crotch, laughing and said, "Cool! I see what you mean." He then shifted his own bulge over with a funny, sheepish smile.
They carried on like that, joking around. Their energy was catching on with each other's. Once the beer was finished, Simon spoke up, "Listen, Zan, it's really great talking with you. I've been by myself for the past three weeks and would really enjoy some company. Could you come back for a potato salad and beer this evening. Afterwards, we could go for a walk or something."
"Sure, I can! That's really kind of you, man... I can bring some goobers."
"Goobers?"
"That's what we call peanuts down here."
"Okay... goobers..."
"Gotta go change. What time do you want me to show up?"
"Say in about an hour or so. How's that?"
"See you later!"
"Wait! Your ten bucks!" Simon screamed.
"Forget it! My treat!" Zan shouted back as he sped away.
Simon just slumped in the cockpit, relieved and happy. He thought Zan was really friendly, like someone he already knew. It made him laugh when he said to himself, "I think I've just made a brand-new old friend!"
Zan had dressed with a flashy Hawaiian shirt and some really sexy cutoffs with the fringes and all. He had orange flip-flops on his feet. He pulled off his helmet and took the sack of peanuts out of his saddle bag. He called out, "Simon, I'm back!"
"Come aboard. I'm just finishing up in the galley."
Simon came out with two beers and sat down beside Zan.
Stifling a laugh, he said, "You look great, Zan! I'm really glad to have you aboard."
"You're the first person to invite me since I've been here! I'm damn glad to be aboard too, to be aboard a real, genuine blow boat and with a good looking captain to boot!"
Simon blushed a little as he lifted his can, singing out, "Cheers to us!"
"Yeah! Cheers and more cheers!"
Spirits were already high. They popped the peanuts as they talked, tossing the shells overboard. Simon talked about the things he had seen coming down, Zan about the weather and gossiping about the people he knew in town, etc. Simon didn't dare ask anything too personal. They just bantered on with light, small talk.
"Tell me about how you put this boat together. It's really pretty. I don't like saying 'she' all the time for a boat, especially if it's got a prick to guide it!"
"You know what Bel Ami means?"
"Not really... It's French ain't it?"
"Yes, that's right... it means handsome or beautiful friend. In French, if the friend is a girl, you write 'amie' and if he's a guy, it's 'ami', so Bel Ami is my handsome boyfriend!"
"That's so cool! Building a friend-boat. I'm really in to doing things with my hands too..." he said.
Simon cocked his head, and looked at Zan's crotch. Zan bursted out laughing, moving his fist up and down, sputtering, "But not only for that!"
"I like to busy my hands that way too..." laughed Simon.
"Now, shame on us! Ain't we just naughty boys!"
"Not yet enough, Zan! Want to try out my salad?"
"Bring it on. I'm starved."
Simon told about how he built the boat, how he thought out the details and, with the help of his brother, how everything worked the way he wanted. They ate and drank and burped and then decided to go for a walk over to the waterway. Once they were there, a silky twilight covered the marshes and the distant islands on the other side. The breeze was balmy, freshening their cheeks. They were silent as they just stood there taking in the magical moment, full of silence, full of peace.
"I'd love to go over there. They say it's beautiful in the reserve and that the beach is really awesome, full of petrified trees and all..."
"You never been?"
"Your boat's the first one I've ever stepped on other than unloading, for a couple of bucks, the fish on a trawler or two."
"You free tomorrow?"
Zan looked over at Simon with a gigantic smile on his face... "You mean..."
"Sure, let's go if you can spare the time."
"I can spare time, man! I'm my own boss. All I have to do is leave a voice message on my phone saying I'm not available. Wow!"
"I can show you how to sail. We can even go out into the ocean some. How does that sound? I've got all my time too!"
"What do I need to bring?"
"Your toothbrush and a towel. For the rest, I've got food and beer galore."
Zan grabbed Simon in a quick hug. He had tears in his eyes. "Thanks man! What time tomorrow?"
"If we don't stay up too late, we can leave at sunrise, on the morning tide. Can you be here at 6:30?"
"Yes!"
Walking back to the boat, they were so close that they bumped shoulders with nearly every other step.
The sun was barely rising when Zan's bike scratched to a stop. Simon was already on deck, preparing the sails.
"Hi there! It's gonna be a wonderful day, a bit hazy and later on, I feel there's gonna be a good little breeze for some decent ocean sailing!" sang out Simon as Zan stepped onboard.
"Tell me, what can I do. I'm a little nervous. Don't want to look like a dork with you! Ha!"
"Take it easy and just watch me. You'll get the gist. By the way... Do you swim well?"
"I sure do!"
"There's some coffee in the thermos down in the galley and the mugs are hanging over the sink. No sugar for me."
"For me, neither."
While they drank their coffee, Simon had the motor humming, just to warm it up some. He briefed Zan on where the security things were and how to cast off. They would hoist the sails only once out of the channels.
"So, stash the cups and go up front. I'll handle the line back here."
"Aye, aye captain!"
They let a trawler pass by in front of them. Simon decided he'd follow. They were well underway, barely realizing that their lives had changed for good... for real good!
Early morning in the marshes is magnificent : birds soaring, fish jumping and the pastel light enhancing everything like a dream, no need wishing to be elsewhere.
Zan sat with his back propped against the mast, spellbound by the beauty through which he was gliding. Simon too was entranced by the simplicity of the unspoiled nature of the lowlands. After all the endless waterfront homes, each with its stupid pier and plastic speedboat, the marinas and ruins along the intracoastal waterway, this wildlife reserve, protected from all speculation, was an oasis for the mind, the eye and the soul.
On either side of the channel leading to the ocean, were the multiple tidal creeks and ponds to explore. As the trawler ahead of them disappeared, they were alone on earth... or at least that was the impression each had. Bel Ami, Simon and Zan and that was it, leaving under a radiant sky the other world behind.
As they neared the ocean, the salty scent in the breeze announced another reality, a glimpse of infinity, the Atlantic!
"Look! Simon! There's the ocean already!"
In fact the motion of Bel Ami had changed. A very gentle swell was entering the channel and just ahead danced the white caps of the bar and beyond, nothing but blue.
Simon idled the motor and shouted out, "Zan, come back and take the tiller. I'm going to hoist the sails."
"What? Take the TILLER! Me? You want me to take the tiller?"
"It's easy. Just come and do it."
Zan stood, stiff as a English butler, choking the tiller tip.
"Just keep us facing the wind."
Simon hoisted first the mainsail, then the jib. He held the sheets running back to the cockpit and told Zan to ease over to starboard. Simon shut off the motor as the wind took over, filling the sails ever so smoothly.
"Steady now on course, Zan."
Simon adjusted the sheets and fixed them the cleats. Bel Ami advanced in silence.
"I be damned! Simon! I'm sailing!!! Me, Zan Beauregard! I'm sailing Bel Ami! Goddamn, man, I don't believe it! I'm gonna pee in my shorts!"
Simon laughed at Zan's exuberant enthusiasm. It filled him with a kind of innocent, unsophisticated joy, wise and childish the same time.
"Well, man, why don't you strip and go pee overboard. I'm taking the tiller," informed Simon as he took off his T-shirt and chucked off his jeans.
"We're freer like that!" he shouted beaming, naked in the sun.
Zan did likewise and screamed "Hallelujah!" as he pissed all of his golden glory to the wind. As they were crossing the bar, Bel Ami woke up, heeled and picked up speed. The swell as well as the brisk breeze was waiting for them out there, breathing like they've been doing since the start of time. Simon and Zan too were like the firstborn of the earth, naked and unladen of the weight of history, culture and all the other things mankind has done to thwart the blossoming of natural glee, love and the simple pleasures of unclad flesh.
Zan began to hum and then sing. His treble voice soared as he made up the notes of a melody that was surging from the depths of his soul. He sang, vocalizing over and over 'Hallelujah', holding on to the stays, leaning over the fleeting water. His voice seemed to glisten on the wavelets. There, before Simon's eyes, a miracle of naked beauty was happening. He knew then that it was for this very instant that Bel Ami was created...
"It's so great being stark, bare-assed, ball swinging naked like that!" blathered out Zan as he bounced back into the cockpit, shattering Simon's spell of enchantment.
"You know, man, you're one good looking dude, there, dressed only in your necklace!" continued Zan as he slid up to Simon, fingering the tiny beads he had around his neck, "That looks damn good on you!"
"Go inside and lift the lid of the bench over on this side. There's a red cardboard box. Bring it out here."
"How come?"
"Just go get the box and bring it here."
Zan fetched the box. Simon told him to take a seat and open it. He did just that and when he did, he shouted out, "Holy Shit! All those necklaces! Where did you get them?"
"I made them."
"You mean you make jewelry too! Well, I be damned!"
"I only make beach jewelry for guys. I started doing it and I just couldn't stop! Ha! It's real fun, you know. Choose one. It's my gift for your singing!"
"Oh, shit, Simon! You're too much!"
Zan rummaged through the treasure box, found a thin leather necklace with just one black bead, gleaming like a pearl.
"This one I like a lot, Simon. How do I fix on me?"
"Come here."
Simon straddled the tiller tip and attached the necklace around Zan's neck. With the swaying of the boat, Zan's ass brushed up against Simon's cock as the tiller teased his taint. He immediately got a hard on. Zan turned around, his equally hard cock smacking Simon's. They burst out laughed.
"That's worth a hug man! Thank youuuuu!" exclaimed Zan, grabbing Simon in his arms, holding him longer than a simple guy-hug.
"My pleasure, Zan... my pleasure. Let's head back for a swim at the beach!"
"Yeah! I need to cool things down a little if you see what I mean? Ha!"
"I see what we both mean!"
They tacked around on beam reach, and went up the shore to choose a place to beach. Finally, they anchored just off Raccoon Key. Not a soul in sight! They covered each other in sunscreen, having lots of fun doing it!
"Hum! Smells so good! Feels good and slick too!" purred Zan as Simon rubbed him all over, paying special attention to where the sun never shines.
"There! No burn!" stated Simon to a very aroused Zan.
Zan grabbed the lotion and said, "Your turn, man! Don't move unless it tickles!"
Zan tossed the lotion on a bench. Then both; like a simultaneous jack-in-the-box, sprang overboard into the water horsing around, laughing, mock wrestling, slithering on each other like otters at play. They ran along the beach, falling, rolling in the sand and back in the water, swimming again.
"I'm starved now," proclaimed Simon!
"Me too!"
They made it back to the boat, climbed up by the anchor chain and devoured a copious lunch, indulging even in a beer. Simon opened up the forward hatch, letting the breeze cross through the boat. He then rigged his sun tarp over the boom, shading the cockpit where they let themselves doze off some, rocked and cradled by the gentle roll.
After awhile, Simon mumbled, "Would you like to go exploring the marshes some. We can choose a mooring if you want to stay out here for the night or do you prefer going back into town."
Zan mumbled back, "I want to stay out here, with you." Then he sat up and exclaimed, "Fuck! I've never been so happy in my life! No way going back to town now!"
They stashed the sails, folded the tarp, rinsed the salt off their skin and out of their hair, cranked up the motor and decided it was better to cover up some because of the sun. Simon went and fetched two long T-shirts and his cologne. He splashed some on his neck, pits and pubs. He tossed the bottle to Zan as he pulled dressed. Zan sniffed the cologne, smiled and did the same.
"It's weird smelling my fragrance on you, Zan. It's the same, but not quite the same too. On you, it seems more spicy."
Striking a silly pose, he pursed his lips and said in a husky, syrupy voice, "That's because I'm so hot and sexy!"
"Don't brag too much! You might get surpised!"
The marshes, under a harsh sun can feel like a wet desert sometimes. They explored all the channels deep enough to enter, and towards 6:00 they anchored just behind Cape Island. The sea breeze would keep the mosquitos inland and the narrow out-island sheltered them from the ocean.
"If my reckoning is right, we're going to be aground at low tide after supper and able to float again tomorrow around 6:00. Is that fine with you, Zan."
"That's fine with me!"
They leisurely made and downed a neat little supper. With all the sun and fun they'd taken in during the day, they were absolutely radiant. In the setting sunlight, they almost glowed. With the receding tide, Bel Ami smoothly settled on the sandy bottom. The absence of movement felt uncanny under their feet. In the silence of the twilight, like the night before, a hush fell on them.
"When I think about it, Simon, it's crazy. Just a little more than twenty-four hours ago, I didn't know you existed and now we're here, like this, just you and me."
"Do you think that rope snarled my prop on purpose so we could meet?"
"Why not! Be it the rope or whatever. The wonderful part of it is that we met!"
That special energy was back in the air. Zan turned to Simon and said almost in a whisper, "You said your story was a 'long' story. We've got all night. Tell me your story, Simon. Please."
"Only if you tell me your 'long' story too."
Zan lowered his eyes, then said, "That's fair enough. Can I lay my head on your shoulder? Makes me listen better..."
"If you want to curl up on the bench and lay your head in my lap, I don't mind. Playing with your hair should make me talk better."
Zan scrambled around and laid his head on Simon's thigh. Simon put his left hand on Zan's hip and with his right hand, he absentmindedly twirled several of Zan's locks around his slender fingers.
"You fine down there?"
"Couldn't be better. I'm listening."
Simon looked up at the stars as if to implore inspiration or bravery, probably both and then he began.
"I come from a very middle class family. The boat building business started with my great grandfather. My older brother's going to take over when our father retires. In school, I was an average student. Didn't go out for sports nor girls. Other than studying and sailing, I loved singing. I joined the glee club in middle school. When my voice dropped, I got through it all right and in high school, I even sang a few solos. Our choirmaster was a little eccentric. He had us do all kinds of funny things like singing laying down, or walking around, mixing our voices and even had us pair up and sing into each other's mouth, our lips nearly touching, like in a French kiss."
"Sounds wild! How did it feel?"
"It felt great, Zan. The vibrations went all through the body. The guy I was singing with... well he was special too. I had a crush on him real bad. He was one of the sophisticates of the school... you know, the country club set... Well, hell, he was really good looking and... and, well, we got to know each other really, really well, if you know what I mean. When we went to the Maryland Glee Club Competition in Baltimore, we paired up to be in the same hotel room and shared the same bed. When he came out of the shower, he just had a towel around his wait. I could see by his bulge that he was in a rather randy mood. I took my turn under the shower and came out dressed... or undressed like him. We got in bed, naked. He cuddled up next to me, started rubbing me all over. He was a bit clumsy but it felt nice. Then he kissed me in the neck, working his way around to my mouth. I was loving it. I kissed him back. Our tongues started dancing together. We started making out like fiends."
Zan sort of whimpered.
"Are you shocked?"
"Hell no! That's so hot. So did you guys go all the way?"
"Well, yes and no. We wound up sucking each other off. You know, sixty-nine. It was mind blasting. It felt so natural. He kept moaning, prodding me on. Sounded like I was good at it. We finally shot off, so I guessed that was all the way. However, the very big problem was that I was falling in love, hook line and sinker! We went on dating during the year. We never did more than suck or jack each other off, so I guess we didn't go all the way either. Little by little the sex seemed less important than the feelings I had for him and that I thought we shared... I came out to my parents. They hugged me just saying, 'Be careful... don't get hurt'."
Simon's voice started to have a slightly angry tone to it.
"But I did get hurt! The damn ass, like his family, was the worst kind of Republican you can imagine, backing the yellow headed slob that was running for president. That revolted me. That was our first real argument, but when he up and said before the graduation prom that our affair could never work, that it was wrong, sinful and all that shit, I nearly choked. Then he claimed that he was into girls... or had to be because of his family 'status' as he said. He said he could never come out because he wasn't gay, in spite of what we did. He wound up saying that he never wanted to see me again and that he was going to forget everything we had done. He said I should to."
Simon sounded more wounded that angry.
"God that stabbed me! Our relation was the most important thing in my life! How could I forget it, forget what I felt, believed and loved. That bastard didn't understand a shit about me, about love, about life! I cried my eyes out! I was crushed, demolished. My soul was like the Twin Towers! Why didn't those guys hit the Trump Tower instead? At any rate, my world caved in. I had to save myself and that's when I got the idea of building Bel Ami and leaving the bay. There's something in me that makes me want to get away from this crazy world, not the natural world but the world of liars, and racists and homophobic haters and pollution and beach houses and high speed motor boats and... and I could go on and on. Do you know what I mean? I thought for a long time that my being a misfit was because I was gay. It's not that! It's because everything around me, in school, on TV, on the web, everything is a sick fairy tale! It's a maze in which you must shape up or ship out! I shipped out. I had a long talk with my folks and mostly with my big brother. They supported me all the way. I joined the work team in the boatyard, a bunch of really cool hipsters, my father's favorite was gay too... They were all ecological minded like my parents. I began, in my spare time, working on Bel Ami. My dad paid me like the others, but also he made a really fat cash deposit on my bank account which would have covered my college expenses if I had gone to college. He showed me the receipt and then he just held me tight saying, 'You'll see, son, you'll make it through. Learn from life. It's the best college ever. Whatever happens, just know that your mom and me are here.' Shit, I bawled like a baby, but this time for joy."
Zan was restless, shaking a little.
"Hey man! Are you all right?"
Zan was weeping ever so softly, stifling his sobs. He bolted upright, sitting by me, hugged me tight, sniffling in my neck.
"Thank you, Simon, for the trust you show me telling me your story. I understand the beauty of Bel Ami. The love that your sick-minded, retarded moron of a boyfriend denied you seeped into the wood of this boat. I'm sorry if I broke down crying. You'll understand why when I tell you my 'long' story. But first, I think a good leak could do us both some good and make space for a beer. What do you think?"
"I think you are very, very right, mate!"
They went and peed overboard. Zan sat back in the cockpit as Simon went down to get the drinks and bring out a kerosene lantern casting a warm light in the cockpit.
"It's your turn to let me play with your curly locks! Lay down!" he patted his thigh, ordering Simon in a joking way."
"As for me, I grew up in a trailer on the outskirts of Georgetown. My mother dumped my father when I was nine and me along with him. He worked in a dirty seafood market and I had a new stepmother to deal with nearly every year. I guess you might say that the stinky old trailer we lived in just farted me out the door. You see, I got in a really big argument with my dad. By the end of April, I knew I was going to flunk my junior year, so I decided to quit school. Leave it before it made me leave! I'd lost my after-school job and when I told my dad no school, no job, he got all riled up and started insulting me like he always did when he got tight. But this time, I didn't swallow the snake. I shouted back, real hard! I dumped it all in one spiel : 'I ain't going back to school, I ain't going out for a job, I ain't staying here a minute longer! I'm gay, dad, queer, faggot, homo and I hate your cunt hole sitting there on her fat ass swigging tequila. I'm getting out of this dump and letting you both rot in your shit!' Dad nearly had a stroke. His bitch just stood up, slapped me shitless and left, slamming the door. I went to my cubby hole, gathered my stuff in two big bags and said 'good-bye' to my dad. He just mumbled, 'good riddance' and I was gone. I sped away into the night on my motorbike and rode and rode some more. I covered nearly all the county, tears streaming out of my eyes, but I felt good deep down inside. I was freezing but I was free! I was me! Simon! No more bull shit in school! No more bullying. No more worrying about being a queer. I was on my way, man! Where...? I didn't know, but I was damn well going there!"
"How do you know you're gay, Zan?"
"I had this part time job with a landscaping company run by a Hispanic. He had a son, Luis, who worked with us every now and then. A really handsome spic! Sexy as hell. Well, one day, there were just the two of us in the van. His father, the boss, had left us to finish up the job, saying that he'd be back in about an hour or so. So, out of the blue, Luis told me he'd suck my cock if I'd jack him off at the same time. At first I thought he was joking. But he wasn't joking at all. He started groping me, pulling at my jeans. He lowered his pants and ordered me to fist him. Then he went down on my cock. I can't say I didn't like it! I loved it! I loved jacking him, making him moan, having him suck me. Nothing sentimental, just something raw, fast and dirty -- then his dad showed up sooner than expected and all hell broke loose! He whopped Luis up one side and down the other. I ran off. He was screaming behind me that if I showed up anywhere close to him and his son, he'd kill me. That's my only experience in sex. Beside that, I never craved a girl. That's all, but, shit man, that's enough."
"And so you wound up here."
"Exactly! It was dawn. I had spent the night riding just about everywhere. I ended up here. I was out of tears. I liked the little town. I was hungry. I had some leftover cash. I went into this sweet little restaurant and bought some breakfast. I asked the lady if there was any work in the fish factories. She said she didn't think so and then asked me what I can do. I told her I had worked in the lawn mowing business. And then Susan... her name's Susan, asked me if I had a place to stay. I said I had my tent. She said I could camp at the rear end of her big backyard and use the restaurant's toilet facilities if I kept her yard up for her. I told her that's fine. Then she asked if I could run errands for money with my motorcycle. I said sure. She said she'd use my services and advertise for me too. She said I should go check out every boat that comes in. The people on boats need an errand runner. Now, I earn just enough to get by. The space she gave me is hidden in the boxwoods and I keep her yard all nice and raked and mowed. I wash up everyday. She often gives me food... probably left overs she didn't sell. I don't mind being Susan's garbage can. Damn good eats -- really friendly lady. That was two months ago. I'm still at the same place."
"Do the people around here mind if you're gay?"
"Shit! I don't know! I'm still in the closet. Don't want to get myself bashed up or something... But Holy Hell, Simon, I get sometimes really afraid. I just live day by day... but when I see the others around here, I get afraid. I'm not a redneck... nor a preppy. I'm just a misfit too. I don't want to get like them, but... Damn it! I don't know what I'm going to do with my life. Do you, Simon? Tell me, do you know what you're really going to do with your life, for real, deep down inside?"
Half-way stunned by the question, Simon uttered, "No I don't, Zan."
There was a moment of tension, then a long silent peace followed as they looked at each other in the dim lantern light... and then Simon blurted out as he stood, "Come here and hug me man! I need it bad!"
Zan jumped on him, sighed really loud, saying, "Me too, Simon! Me too!"
The energy was overflowing between them. Something neither had ever felt before. Zan was trembling. Their hard cocks nudged each other.
Simon whispered, "Are you ready to get in bed?"
"I can't wait!"
Things happened like in a movie, the kind of scene in slow motion where the colors are a bit blurred and the music is all full of violins, nice and soft... almost silent. Not a word was spoken, not a gesture hastened. Simon was the first to enter. He lit the lantern and undressed. Love needs honesty and honesty is just another word for nudity. Nothing should be hidden, everything given. Once they were both naked they crawled in bed. The light shed its amber glow into the alcove. Zan laid on his back, his hands tucked under his head, his eyes dazed. The tip of his very hard cock glistened with slick.
They just let love happen.
Simon's mouth was a bit dry from the emotion. His impatient heart was throbbing like an distant drum. Zan glowed. He was simply, terribly, acutely aware that he was about to fall... fall at last into the fatal whirlpool of natural passion.
"Are you scared?"
"Not if you kiss me."
A slight smile adorned his face as he looked at Simon. He was perfect. His lips were delicately swollen, his blemish free skin was slightly moist. The delicate hair in his pits and the little curly nest above his perfect cock enhanced the rest of his hairless body. For the first time, they felt the true energy of lust, its intrinsic beauty making both radiate that certain glow of love in the making.
Zan stretched out his arms, beckoning Simon to hold him, kiss him, fondle him, ignite him. Then all restraint was released. They grabbed each other in a sort of frantic crave to merge, to explode and to melt at the same time. They tussled and reveled, kissing, licking, smelling, sweating until their mouths found each other's cock, dribbling, anointed with expectation. They sucked each other, bucked and trembled. Zan's taste drove Simon mad with thirst to swallow all that Zan could give. He grunted, clawing Zan's ass. Simon never gagged as Zan suddenly spewed. Simon swallowed. He then moaned a stifled scream as his legs jotted straight, his whole being erupting through his cock like a volcano.
Simon caught his breath and uttered, "Oh my God, Zan!"
Lithe as a sprite, Zan flipped around, grabbing Simon's head, he straddled him. Leaning over, he kissed him. Then he sang in Simon's mouth. Simon sang with him. The overtones, vibrating in the wood of Bel Ami, resounded like a cello and soared into space. A dull clap of thunder resounded in the distance. Zan exclaimed with urgency, "I'm here Simon, I'm... mmmm." They were both kissing, weeping their joy, laughing, nudging, snuggling. Then Zan sat up, pushed open the overhead hatch. A rush of fresh air filled the alcove.
The chill of an ocean breeze made them shiver as they cuddled in the milky moonlight falling on them. They sang sounds together, kissing again, filling the early autumn sky with a shower of shooting stars.
"I can't waste life on sleep tonight! Let's give ourselves to each other until dawn! Let's not waste a second, Simon. God knows what might happen later on!"
Spent by love's labor, in the last hours of the night, they surrendered and dozed off anyhow. When dawn broke, a ray of sun shot in through the porthole and fell directly on Zan's 'morning glory'. Simon couldn't resist. Leaning over, he sucked on its fruity tip. Zan wiggled, and then giggled.
"Do you want me for breakfast, man? I don't know if there's still much left down there!"
"We'll see..."
They spent the day beach-combing for shells and sailing. Zan became quite skillful onboard. It seemed like he had a sixth sense for picking up Simon's talents. As they were returning to town, things were a bit awkward.
"So where do we go from here, Zan?"
"Nothing's keeping me in town or anywhere for that matter... nothing but..."
"But what?"
"But you, dimwit! Fuck man, we love each other. Lovers are made to love together... to love and to live together. Shit man, it's clear! Don't you get it?"
"I get that you and I can live together, on Bel Ami... Am I right?"
"Yes you are!"
"Doesn't make you scared?"
"Not if you kiss me again. Happiness happens, you know!"
"Go get your stuff. I'll fix us some supper and tonight you move in for good. I love you!"
"Be back in a minute... I love you too!"
There was no problem finding space for Zan's few things. It was near midnight when everything was settled. They undressed and slid into bed. Zan snuggled up to Simon and whispered in his ear, "I'm so fucking happy, Simon. I'm where I aught to be, right here, with you, for good."
"That you are, Zan! Right here, for good!"
"I wanna go all the way with you, man! All the way..."
"You mean all the way like..."
"Like all the way..."
Zan rolled over on Simon, straddled him as he covered him with kisses over and over. He reached back, grabbing Simon's cock and rubbed the tip between his buttocks.
"Hold up there! I want you in me first!"
"No way! Me first!"
They both burst out laughing!
"If this is our first quarrel, Zan, I'm glad it's about love... all the way!"
"Well, get in me now! I tell you I need you!"
"Only if you get in me right after!"
"That can be done... Where's the sun lotion?"
Epilogue
Susan agreed to let Zan stash his tent and motorcycle at her place. They could use her address for postage mail, papers and such. She gave them both her blessings and blushed like a school girl when they gave her a necklace.
Zan was just as creative as Simon on making jewelry. They built up a good stock to go and sell in Charleston before leaving for Christmas. Simon's parents had booked them on a round trip flight for a visit during the holidays. They were dying to meet their new son-in-love, Zan!
During the fall, they spent most of their time in the lowlands and on the beach, coming into town only for necessities. They sang together a lot.
"You ever hear about Simon and Garfunkel?" asked Zan one day, out of the blue, while they were gathering shells on the beach.
"Simon and who?"
"Simon and Garfunkel! They're folksingers from the sixties... One of my dad's sluts had a zither and listened to a cassette of them singing all the time. She tried to sing along. She was a disaster ; the tape was really cool! Listen..."
Zan began to sing :
Hello darkness, my old friend I've come to talk with you again Because a vision softly creeping Left its seeds while I was sleeping And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains Within the sound of silence
Simon looked down at the sand and then just said, "Simon and Zan sounds a lot better! We can buy a zither on internet. Can you play one?"
"Shit man! With you, I can play anything! We better buy two cause you're gonna learn with me!"
A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at marin.giustinian@laposte.net