Tai starts the car with fingers that only shake a little.
In the passenger seat, Ollie winds down the window to the night. His profile is pale; the streetlight outlines it in white. Tai makes a U-turn, then heads onto the road that leads back to the hotel.
They don’t touch on the drive. It’s easy not to. Tai’s not reckless, not with Ollie. They’ve always kept space between them when they were alone, and for now Tai needs to be absolutely sure of every move he makes toward Ollie.
When Ollie scans his face, electricity fizzes in Tai’s chest. He holds the steering wheel and keeps his focus on the road stretching out in front of them, lit by irregular streetlights and the car’s headlights. The buildings of Coolangatta and Surfer’s Paradise rise in front of them, lit with scattered lights all the way to the top. It takes far, far too long to get through the outskirts of town to their hotel, but part of Tai wishes it would take longer.
The hotel parking garage is underground, down a ramp. Tai parks. They’re surrounded by gray concrete walls and fluorescent lighting.
Even in this light Ollie is fine-boned and lovely. Tai’s whole body is alive with that ever-present tide, pulling and pulling when Ollie’s around. Ollie draws him in.
Tai wants this. That means he needs to take care. “Ollie,” he says into the silence. He’d thought he had a plan, but the words he expected to say are long gone. He sighs and just asks, “Are you sure?”
Ollie doesn’t answer, but he unbuckles his seatbelt and lets it retract. Tai follows its path with his eyes. Then Ollie leans in slowly, slowly. He’s within a breath of Tai but doesn’t close the gap. “I’ve been thinking about this,” he says. Tai resists moving closer. Ollie’s breath is soft on his skin. Ollie half shrugs. “I don’t seem to stop thinking about it. So, yes. I’m sure.”
Tai closes his eyes. When they kiss it’s slow; it’s full and rough-lipped with sun and salt.
Tai’s heart races. His skin is electric, his blood warm. He’s spent years kissing strangers and convincing himself that a kiss would never be like this, as if everything that’s always been caught inside him is bubbling over. As though all of it matters. He closes his eyes and lets himself taste Ollie’s lips, while his brain says, over and over, “Ollie” and “Please” and also “Oh, shit.”
His seat belt is tight across his lap. He moves back, leaving Ollie blinking at him, and undoes it with shaking, certain fingers. Then he releases a breath. “Let’s go upstairs.”
At the door of their hotel room, Ollie takes Tai’s hand. Both their palms are sweaty. Tai unlocks the door with his other hand. Once they’re inside, the door closes with a steadying thump behind them.
The curtains are open wide, and outside the vast span of the world is mostly black—black sky, black ocean and dark-shadowed mountains.
Tai turns his body to Ollie’s and opens his mouth to speak, but says nothing. Anything that comes to mind seems silly and awkward. He’s always been direct about sex with other boys. But this is Ollie, and he’s forgotten how to be anything but ridiculous. It’s difficult to think straight. He can’t tell why Ollie wants this.
Ollie’s hand is warm. Tai squeezes it, checking that it’s real.
Ollie’s face quirks into a half smile that’s both amused and a little embarrassed. “Too weird?”
“I suppose. But that’s not what I was going to say.”
“Let me guess. You wanted to check if I was sure. Again.” His voice is both exasperated and fond.
Of course, Ollie’s pretty much right. Tai blushes. He doesn’t resist smiling as he moves forward to kiss Ollie. He runs both his hands up Ollie’s sides. Ollie’s breath catches beautifully. Tai’s never let himself daydream such things.
Under his T-shirt, Ollie’s back is warm and faintly damp and smooth to touch. Ollie leans forward and opens up to the kiss.
Everything is hushed and brand new, but also strangely easy. They know one another’s bodies with the intimacy of a thousand days of surfing and waxing boards and doing chores and staring helplessly under the hood of the car. They’ve spent years together.
Still, Tai could not have expected so much from this usually careful, edgy boy. He holds himself back, torn. He wants to take everything slowly. He longs to draw his fingers reverently over muscles he’s never touched this way. He’d like to taste every inch of Ollie’s skin. But if he takes his time, they’ll both stop acting on instinct. Neither of them want that.
“Ollie,” he says tentatively.
“I’m right here. Trust me.” Ollie kisses Tai again, silencing him.
Tai walks Ollie backward, directing him toward Tai’s bed. They’re still kissing as the back of Ollie’s knees bump against the mattress. Ollie sits as Tai watches. Then he lowers himself onto his back and scoots up the bed a bit. Looking up from the bed, his eyes are wide, steady, and blue.
They’re both still fully clothed. Ollie’s shirt hikes up, revealing an inch of pale skin that Tai’s seen so many times before.
“Okay?” Tai asks as he puts a knee on the mattress beside Ollie’s legs.
Ollie rolls his eyes impatiently. “Tai. You can seriously stop checking. Believe me.”
Tai isn’t exactly sure what to do with the combination of irritation and desire that flows through him. “Fuck off,” he says. He drops his body over Ollie’s to kiss him, hard. There’s a stunned noise from Ollie’s throat. It’s sweet, like nothing Tai has ever heard. It makes him feel smug. And suddenly, hearing that helpless noise again is all that’s on Tai’s mind.
Tai has thought, theoretically, about Ollie’s experience of sex. But he’s never asked, and Ollie is always quiet about things that he considers private. Still, Tai knows Ollie and he’s pretty sure Ollie hasn’t done much with anyone; not that he can tell from the way Ollie’s moving, his hips rotating, his mouth mobile. Tai doesn’t resist the soft moan Ollie draws from him.
He focuses on reading Ollie’s body. He watches the stretch and yield of Ollie’s muscles, listens to the way his breath hitches when Tai’s fingers trail across his mouth. He doesn’t need to ask whether this is all okay when Ollie answers that question with every tiny noise. Tai slots his thigh high between Ollie’s legs. Ollie’s hips strain upward.
However much Ollie might be Ollie, and therefore different in Tai’s head from anyone before, Tai’s body has the same needs it’s always had. He craves that involuntary rhythm and the inevitable, electric release. As Tai pushes forward over and over, Ollie responds. His whole body arches, his hips churn. Their bodies rock together.
Tai kisses under the angle of Ollie’s jaw. Ollie huffs shakily, and his head rolls back, throat bared. Tai’s amazed; Ollie’s beauty makes his heart hurt.
Tai shifts his hips to align their cocks and rhythmically presses Ollie down against the bed. The sound of their breathing and fabric against fabric rubbing back and forth, back and forth is intimate and unmistakable. Tai lifts his head. He wants to watch, wants to stay here forever, wants to wrap himself up in Ollie’s gaze. This is the only secret they haven’t told one another.
Ollie’s eyes, now gray and green and unfocused, are on Tai’s. Then he seems to forget himself, and his eyes roll back in his head before he shuts them tightly. Tai understands. The encounter is intense, even for Tai. Ollie’s protecting himself in a small way. But he’s still here in the moment. His brow is furrowed with concentration; his mouth is twisted and frozen in pleasure and need. His breath escapes in tiny pants.
“God,” breathes Tai.
Ollie breaks apart, loses control. And Tai is a part of it. The joy simmers brightly up and down Tai’s spine. He wants to slow down. If he never has this again, he’ll remember forever.
“Ollie. Hold on for a sec,” Tai says. “Hold on with me.”
Ollie keeps his eyes closed but nods and stills.
Tai shifts over, reaches between them, and slides his hand under the waistband of Ollie’s board shorts. His fingers graze Ollie’s belly. Ollie’s eyes flick open to meet Tai’s for a fearful, wanting moment.
“Tai.” His voice cracks. “Please.”
The angle is awkward and Tai’s wrist is going to ache, but he skims his hand farther down, trailing past Ollie’s rough curls. This pulls a low, achingly long groan from deep in Ollie’s chest. The groan sinks into Tai’s heavy balls and his cock shifts where it’s pressed against Ollie’s hipbone. Then Tai wraps his fist gently around Ollie’s cock and runs it slowly back and forth. The soft skin moves over the shaft inside.
“Oh god,” says Ollie brokenly. “This. You—” He thrusts into Tai’s hand, out of any kind of rhythm. His hands flutter to his face, then back to Tai’s shoulders. “God, Tai,” he gasps again.
The words are nothing, just Tai’s name on Ollie’s lips, but they explode in Tai’s heart. He kisses Ollie again and again with his fist wrapped around Ollie’s cock. Every time Tai breaks away for a breath, Ollie’s lips chase mindlessly after him.
Tai sweeps his thumb across the head of Ollie’s cock. He spreads its moisture over his palm, holds tighter and starts pumping. Ollie’s hips buck upward irresistibly, over and over again. His eyes are open but blind.
“Come for me,” Tai says. Ollie is so beautiful. “Let go for me.”
Ollie’s lower back arches upward. His body spasms and shakes, and he comes, spilling in bursts over Tai’s hand.
“Oh god.” Ollie blinks sightlessly at Tai.
“Oh god,” echoes Tai, amazed. He holds Ollie’s cock for a cooling, comforting moment, lets it soften a little in his hand as Ollie’s breathing eases. Then he gently draws his hand out of Ollie’s shorts. His palm is wet with come, but he has no concern for that. His cock is swollen. He rocks against Ollie.
“Let me,” says Ollie after a panting minute. He tries to reach his hand between them.
Tai shakes his head. “No. Please. Stay like that and—”
He’s almost there, his breath rough in Ollie’s ear, shamelessly rutting against him to get the friction he needs. But then Ollie rolls his hips up, shifting everything around just as Tai was about to come. Ollie’s hipbone presses sharply against Tai’s cock, and Tai groans with frustrated need. He considers wrapping his hand around his own cock and getting himself off, but Ollie strokes Tai’s back, presses close, and keeps rolling his hips. That sends a ripple of pleasure through Tai. He focuses and thrusts harder into Ollie, rhythmically keeps time with Ollie’s movement, and lets his body seek its end. Pleasure coils tightly. Trapped in his shorts, his cock strains between them. He’s at the edge of control. He breathes Ollie in and finds the perfect angle as he thrusts and thrusts. Release is there, just out of reach, just in reach, so devastatingly close.
Then Ollie lifts his head to mouth at Tai’s neck. His lips are hot, and his teeth press delicately into Tai’s skin, in a tiny, breathy nip. Such a small thing, yet it sends shivers through Tai’s nerves. Tai lets out a gasp and throws back his head. Tai’s hips shudder forward and the orgasm blazes through him, running electric down his nerves and bones and leaving him slumped, vibrating, gasping against Ollie’s hair.
They lie there, Tai heavy against Ollie’s body, their chests pressed together and heaving. The air is humid where it’s caught between them. It takes a minute for their heartbeats to slow and steady. Tai becomes aware of Ollie watching him. Ollie’s hand is covering his mouth. His eyes are clear on Tai’s face, clear and soft and watchful.
“Ollie,” Tai says. He means so much more. They stay still, breathing in sync. Tai’s eyes trace Ollie’s familiar, elusive expression. He has never seen anything so beautiful. Under his gaze, Ollie blushes. There’s everything to say, but the truth is, there’s no way to say it. Time stretches out strangely.
“I’ll get a cloth,” Tai manages. “You must feel kind of messy. I know I do.” It’s not at all what he wants to say. He rolls off the bed and stands up.
When he returns from the bathroom, hopping a little so he can pull on clean boxers, Ollie’s there, exactly where he was when Tai left. He lies quite still, uncovered, and stares at the ceiling with wide eyes.
“You okay?” Tai asks.
Ollie looks at him. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah.”
Tai’s heart settles. He reaches out carefully, but Ollie shakes his head and takes the cloth from him. “Thank you.” He’s shaky as he stands, but he visibly steadies himself and walks naked to the bathroom.
They were in Tai’s bed, so Tai stays there. He sets the alarm clock. When Ollie returns he has his boxers on, too. He stops across the room. He looks uncertain.
Tai says, “I’ve set the alarm so we won’t sleep through the early heats.” It’s hard to keep eye contact. “Come back to bed with me. If you want to.”
Ollie’s eyes widen. For a thudding moment, Tai’s certain he’ll refuse. Then Ollie presses his lips together and nods. In the ambient light, his skin is so pale it’s ghostlike, and his eyes are bright and sweet. He climbs into bed. Tai’s surprised when he doesn’t leave space between them. Instead he shifts close, and stretches out his lovely body alongside Tai’s. He presses his face into Tai’s shoulder. His breath is warm and soft on Tai’s skin.
They lie together, barely moving. Ollie’s breathing slows and steadies. Tai stays still in the dark and lets sleep take him, too.
Ollie wakes before the alarm. Tai’s behind him, pressing his breath and warmth and solid, sleeping life against Ollie’s back. If Ollie rolls over it will all be real.
The curtains are wide open, and through the big windows the day is pale and gray above the steely stretch of the ocean.
Ollie holds himself motionless. He’s not sure if he should feel anything.
He can’t regret last night. It’s hard to think beyond that, the forgetfulness of tumbling apart in someone else’s safe hands, of falling into a place where he no longer needed to hold himself together. And Tai right there, knowing everything that Ollie’s ever been. The thought of it sends shivers across his skin, even when he tries to tamp down on it. His body is unwound in a way he never expected.
Ollie breathes slowly. His world has shifted, and Tai’s still in the center of everything. Ollie watches the horizon and doesn’t let his hands follow the path across his body that Tai’s hands took last night.
“Morning,” says Tai out of the quiet. His voice is rough with sleep.
Ollie closes his eyes. He can’t postpone this. “Morning,” he says. He doesn’t roll over, though, as he asks, “How could you tell I was awake?”
He can hear the shrug in Tai’s reply. “Your shoulders. Your breathing.” Ollie holds his breath, though Tai must understand why he’s doing that, too. Tai almost always knows what Ollie’s doing. In the past that’s been reassuring, but right now it’s terrifying.
Ollie hears Tai move behind him and imagines Tai’s shoulders stretching out. He listens as Tai pushes back the sheets and stands to walk across the room. The bathroom door closes. Ollie rolls onto his back and doesn’t listen further.
When Tai comes back, he says, “Hey. Do you want some time to yourself up here? I’ll go down and watch the morning heats. You can have the room, get some space if you want it.” His face is open but somehow unreadable.
Ollie should be relieved. Instead, he’s unfairly frustrated. For once, it isn’t time alone that Ollie needs. “I’ll come with you,” he says. “If that’s okay?” He’s not sure he’s ever asked. They’ve always presumed on the welcome between them.
“Of course it’s okay.” Tai’s smile is a little unsettled, but it’s still Tai’s smile.
In the elevator on the way down, Tai watches the floor numbers change. Ollie glances at Tai, then the floor.
They stand together for the first few round-three heats. The waves have picked up. It makes for more of a show, and means there are a bunch of locals around. Some of the guys are getting good air.
Ollie will face one of these surfers in the quarters. It’s good to scope out how they surf. He tries to get a sense of their strengths and weaknesses, at least as much as he can tell from shore. Though he came to the beach with Tai, they don’t talk much. After a while, Tai moves off to chat with the other surfers.
Ollie can’t help but watch Tai through the crowds of people. Tai moves easily. There are new ways Ollie knows Tai, and he can’t keep them out of his head. He feels stupid and obvious.
When it’s Brandon’s heat, Tai stands right out at the water’s edge to cheer. Ollie stands farther back. He doesn’t know Brandon well, but his disappointment is real when Brandon is knocked out by a fellow Australian.
As Brandon steps out of the water, his shoulders droop. His board looks heavy under his arm. Tai says a few words, meets Brandon’s eyes. He squeezes Brandon’s shoulder and takes the board to walk him back to the media tent.
However messy this whole thing might be right now, Ollie is proud to be around Tai.
When Tai returns, Ollie moves down to the water’s edge beside him. They watch Ashton’s heat together. It’s close, but Ashton’s two-wave total is strong enough that he makes it through to the quarterfinals.
Tai cheers as Ashton bounds from the waves and pumps a fist. Once Ashton’s disappeared into the media tent, Tai turns to Ollie. “You’ll be called up in half an hour or so,” he says. “Are you ready?”
Ollie nods.
“You’re going to kill it out there,” Tai says. His gaze flickers to Ollie and away. It’s something he’s done a hundred times before, but this time the energy simmers in Tai’s veins.
“Okay.”
“D’you want me to grab your board?” Tai asks.
“Nah, I’ve got it.”
However Ollie tries to put the night before out of his mind, it comes to him in blazing flashes every time he blinks. When his fingers brush his lips he imagines Tai’s lips against them and shivers. He remembers Tai’s tongue moving in his mouth, that foreign thrill. When he smooths his shirt, he remembers Tai’s fingers running up his sides. Everything feels tender and thrown wide open.
Forcing himself to focus on the surf, he heads to the stands and grabs his board. The weight of the board steadies him.
“Whatever happens today,” Tai says gently, once Ollie’s back on the beach, “It’s all good. You’ve gone from a win in the first event to the quarterfinals in the second. You’re going to be way up in the rankings. Everyone’s talking about you. You’ve been amazing. So go out and have fun.”
Ollie’s form is good. His board responds to him. But the other guy is good too. It comes down to the right wave at the right time, and in the end, Ollie loses. It means the end of this competition. You don’t get second chances in the quarterfinals.
Ollie walks out of the surf and lets Carise direct him to the people he needs to talk to.
He faces the cameras. “JP was the better man today,” he says. “I’m honestly happy I made it so far.”
When he exits the media tent, Tai’s waiting between the sand and the road.
“Hey,” says Tai.
“Hey.” They walk across the sand together, not close enough to touch. Ollie says, “I thought I’d got to a place where I’d be okay with this. With not winning.”
“Yeah. I get that.”
“I mean, it’s the quarterfinals. That’s pretty good.”
“It’s more than fucking good, Ollie. You did better in this comp than most of the seven billion people in the world.”
Ollie glares at him, frustrated. “They weren’t in the comp, Tai.”
Tai shrugs. “See?”
“Some of them are babies, or ninety-year-olds, or live in the middle of Russia and it’d be too cold to surf even if they were near the ocean. And some of them prefer cycling or, I don’t know, soccer.”
“As hard as that is to believe.” Tai picks up Ollie’s board from the racks. “There’s no shame in losing. Let’s get out of here.”