Meet Me In Eden - 1. Meet Me In Eden

Asher’s lover called one summer’s day. He said to meet him at the house by the sea.

House? What house? Asher was immediately confused. They didn’t have houses in his small island town. Well, not like the ones where Hendricks was from, anyway.

Oh, but of course Hendricks could have only meant that one house on top of the rocky hill. It had very recently been built as a vacation rental, the first of its kind in town. Most of the locals, including Asher himself, thought it a bit on the excessive side. The town was mostly composed of dusty yellow and rustic red villas lined along the pier in an erratic manner, humble, but certainly not without taste or history. Whoever had built the house surely wanted to stick out like a sore thumb.

“Two stories; big glass windows; veranda on the first floor and balcony on the second floor,” explained Hendricks over the phone. His voice was crackly. No matter where he was calling from, his reception was always so poor. “Really, Asher, you can’t miss it.”

“Okay. What’s the occasion?” asked Asher.

“Why do we need an occasion?”

Well, because they almost never went anywhere special. Not even for a birthday or holiday. But Asher supposed he could understand why that was the case. While he had been born and raised, Hendricks wasn’t at all a local and lived far across the world in America. To Hendricks, Asher’s town was his special occasion. Naturally, when the clock struck midnight and their time together was over, he’d leave for months, sometimes even years, at a time, always explaining that work was keeping him so damn busy. Americans had such a strange fortitude for being overworked. Asher couldn’t imagine living such a joyless life.

All the same, Hendricks always came back to Asher. He didn’t have any obligations to return, and it was certainly beyond Asher’s place to ask anything of Hendricks, but by some miracle, the American hadn’t given up on him yet. With a consistency so dedicated as his, Hendricks should know by now that he had sowed the seeds of expectation in Asher’s mind.

“I guess we don’t really need an occasion,” said Asher after a time.

“I just want to see you. That a good enough reason?”

“Liar.”

“Hey, that hurts. Really, it does.”

Asher tried not to smile. Though Hendricks couldn’t see his face, Asher still felt shy about letting on that he was a hopeless romantic at heart. It wasn’t something his parents had raised him to be, and Asher already knew without anyone needing to remind him that life was too strict for such idyllic fantasies. But Hendricks had such a special type of way with words. Maybe it was the accent? With just a few phrases, Hendricks could make Asher feel like a star in his own Hollywood flick. One would think Hendricks consumed romance movies as a training exercise in pick-up lines.

Of course, Asher wasn’t really so naïve as to believe such honeyed words could be without their impurities. For all he knew, Hendricks had an entire life set up in another country and was simply using Asher as an escape fantasy. Or perhaps Asher was no more than just another convenient tick on Hendricks’ babe counter. Whatever the case, Hendricks wasn’t fooling anyone, especially since Asher wasn’t such an innocent himself. The ugly fact of the matter was that there just weren’t a lot of men like Hendricks to go around in a small town like Asher’s. As much as he was a rare, kindred spirit, when it came right down to it, Asher was merely using Hendricks as an escape just the same. Even if it meant they were only lovers in the loosest sense, Asher still wanted to be able to have his cake and eat it just like anyone else in the world.

They said their byes and ended their call. Asher spent some time cleansing himself in the bathroom before locking up his apartment. He left without bothering to preen his hair or change his plain outfit into something more noteworthy. The trade winds always undid his best efforts anyway.

Asher found the house on the hill. It was as Hendricks described it, albeit far more picturesque than he had led on. Certainly more pretty up close than Asher could have imagined. Its condition was still pristine, the gray wood foundation not yet affected from the briny sea winds and animals that liked to make their nests in the sands.

Along the sandy path leading up the hill, Asher found a trail of boxes and glass containers. Each of them was too strategically placed to be trash washed in from the sea, but it wasn’t like Hendricks to do anything so romantic. No, Hendricks was more the type to settle for a movie night on the couch in the hopes that it would quickly lead to something more physical. There were rare few movies that they'd finished from beginning to end without interruption. Asher supposed there was a first time for everything.

A wine bottle was nestled in a bundle of flowers at the bottom of the hill. There was no trace of any wine inside, but there was a rolled-up page that Asher had to pry out with a thin stick. It was nothing extravagant; just him and Hendricks, sitting in front of a collection of brass oars in the town square. Their closed-lipped smiles were still tense with unfamiliarity. When they had this picture taken, they didn’t yet know just how quickly their first meeting would turn into a hundred more.

Asher next found a paper box. A black, sheer robe in his size was neatly folded inside. Something one would only find in the fashion weeks of some far-off European country. He shook his head and chuckled. Well, why not? It was clearly what Hendricks wanted, and it had been a long while since they’d last seen each other, so Asher saw no reason to deny the man what he so desired. Asher stripped down there in the open before slipping the robes over his shoulders. How lovely, he thought at once. The gossamer material was like a sheet of cloud on his bare skin, just thick enough to leave only the most sensual hints of his best parts. The breeze between his thighs was rather liberating.

Asher continued to find material whimsies of their romance along the way. A single piece of chocolate from the only chocolatier in town; a box full of assorted flower petals that the wind quickly stole away once opened; old letters they had exchanged; a long piece of fabric made from the same material of his robes.

“You’re a dirty old man,” said Asher upon finding Hendricks in the master bedroom, tossing him the blindfold. Sheer white curtains veiled a sliding door just beside the bed, evoking a nervous flutter in Asher’s stomach. Now he was starting to feel embarrassed, realizing that Hendricks had had a clear view of the path leading up to the house the whole time.

“That’s ‘Daddy’ to you,” said Hendricks. He grinned, his pair of fangs so perfect that they demanded attention all on their own.

Asher blushed. Not because he was being modest, but because it was such a bad joke that he really wanted to laugh. But it would be terribly rude of him to ruin the magic Hendricks had so carefully crafted by laughing in his face.

Hendricks rose from the edge of the bed and approached Asher. He reached for the box of chocolate in Asher’s hands.

“For me? How kind of you,” said Hendricks. He opened the box and cast it aside, popping the single square of chocolate in his mouth. They watched each other in silence. Hendricks had a pair of deep set, crystal blue eyes, as rare as turquoise sea glass from the ocean floor. Hendricks thought otherwise, once upon a time trying to convince Asher that blue eyes were quite common where he came from. Actually, it was Asher’s amber eyes that were special despite the whole island population bearing some variation of the same golden-brown color.

Suddenly, calloused hands slipped between the folds of Asher’s robe. They gripped at his hips, and Hendricks drew him in. Asher sucked on Hendricks' tongue as the man shifted warm, melted chocolate into his mouth. A crawling sensation traveled down his spine and through the pit of his stomach, finishing its journey farther down between his legs. As they pulled apart, Asher gently tugged at Hendricks’ bottom lip with his teeth.

“Dirty,” Asher repeated in a whisper.

“You’ve swallowed dirtier things, babe.”

“Have I? It’s been so long. I can’t remember.”

“Sorry. My fault. Let me fix that.”

Asher pressed a hand on Hendrick’s chest before he got too hasty. He took a step back, just out of Hendricks’ reach, and dodged Hendricks’ attempt to grab at him again.

“And what makes you think you can just waltz into my town and act like you can do whatever you want?” asked Asher, crossing his arms.

Hendricks raised his arms in an exaggerated shrug. “What can I say? Us tourists, we can be some awful customers. At least we Americans leave tips.” He added more softly, “And maybe the occasional lasting impression.”

“So you say. Is it easier being awful to people, knowing you’ll be gone soon anyway?”

At that, the easy smile on Hendricks’ lips faded. Asher’s words had stung. Good, thought Asher, at the same time feeling petty for having said it at all.

“Fucking lousy tourists, right?” Hendricks muttered, avoiding Asher’s gaze. Asher lowered his gaze as well. Though he tried, he just didn’t have Hendricks’ aptitude for finding the sliver of humor in every other sentence.

“I missed you, Hendricks Miller,” said Asher at length.

“I know. Believe me, I tried everything I could to visit you sooner, but I just couldn’t.”

“Work?”

“Work,” repeated Hendricks quietly.

“A postcard or an e-mail every now and then would have been nice.”

“You’re right, baby. I’ve been getting too careless.”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me! You better make up for it.”

“I will if you let me.”

Hendricks approached Asher again. This time, Asher didn’t stop him as he returned his hand beneath the robe and traced the shape of Asher’s thigh. “You’re more beautiful than I remember,” said Hendricks.

Ashe raised a skeptical brow. “Didn’t you say you had a photographic memory?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Hendricks had tried to start his seduction slow and tender, but he quickly grew impatient. Such a long time spent apart had taken its toll on him. His groping hands bore down hard on Asher’s skin and left blushing trails everywhere they roved. Asher bit the inside of his lip, the burning from an enticing pain traveling straight down to his groin. Asher was lifted onto the vanity just behind him, and Hendricks pushed the robes aside, exposing all of Asher to him. Hendricks’ eyes grew misty with imagination, longing, and hunger all at once.

Asher watched the ocean through the balcony doors as he felt Hendricks’ short beard graze the inside of his thighs. Closer towards the beach, the water was the precise same blue as the sky. But soon after, the sea’s color turned dark. So dark it was almost black. Ultramarine, as Hendricks liked to say. The waters quickly plunged more than eight feet deep once you crossed the shoreline. Despite the signs of Careful: steep drop! posted everywhere in the sands, unsuspecting tourists and their children continued to stumble into deep waters unknowingly. Once the lifeguards changed the signs to Caution: jellyfish! however, they became a little more mindful of the waters.

Hendricks suddenly stood, blocking Asher’s view of the ocean. He licked his lips and lifted his shirt over his head. His body was a master sculptor’s daydream, his tanned skin taut over valleys of relaxed muscle. Hendricks smiled crookedly, basking in Asher’s fixed attention. Hendricks didn’t always enjoy when people gawked at him, most especially when they walked together through the town square. He would suddenly let go of Asher’s hand without explanation, straighten his spine a little more, square his shoulders, and smolder as if he were a character in a comic book. Then, when only Asher was left to look again, he slouched a little, throwing an overly familiar arm around Asher’s hips as if to apologize.

Hendricks guided one of Asher’s hands to the stiff hill in his pants. At the touch, Asher instinctively spread his legs farther apart, feeling like such a loose whore as soon as he did it. But Hendricks must have liked that. He leaned forward and buried his lips in Asher’s hair, urging Asher on as he worked his lover’s hand down his pants.

One thing led to the next, and suddenly, the blindfold was over Asher’s eyes. Hendricks was inside of him first. For a long time, there was only the sound of the creaking furniture mixing in with feral human sounds. What was half an hour’s affair for most couples easily turned into a whole day’s affair for them. They would take breaks in between, of course, to do things that needed to be done. Maybe take a quick shower, rehydrate with a glass of water, or just pause in the middle of their sex to talk about a thought that randomly occurred to one of them. Whatever the case, they always made sure to return their attention to each other’s satisfaction immediately afterwards. Though it always played out the same way whenever Hendricks returned from overseas, minus the textbook romance, Asher never grew tired of the cycle. Caught up in the heat of the moment, Asher allowed himself to think that the intense pleasure alone was enough to make up for Hendricks’ long, bitter silence.

Well, almost enough.

Asher wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt compelled to stop in the middle of their session. Night had arrived, cold and quiet but for the low groaning the house made when a strong gust passed through. Their bodies glistened with perspiration, but it was clear they could both keep going. Asher’s eyes went to the full moon hanging outside, it’s white reflection clear on the ocean’s face. Waves crashed against the shore.

“Asher?” called Hendricks, confused. Asher pulled out of Hendricks, apologizing half-heartedly. He fell into bed beside his lover, still staring out at the ocean. Hendricks pressed a finger against Asher’s chin, forcing his attention back to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” asked Hendricks.

“No,” muttered Asher, gazing into Hendricks’ eyes. Hendricks did the same, daring to blink only once.

“Hey,” muttered Hendricks dreamily. “It’s cold, isn’t it?”

“Is it? I’m okay.”

“Guess you’re right after all. I must be getting old.”

“If you’re getting old, then shouldn’t I be getting old, too?”

“Are you suggesting we get old and crusty together, Asher?”

Hendricks rose from bed then, the squares of muscle in his bare buttocks moving in line with each step. He went to the balcony door and slammed it shut, then closed the blinds on each of the windows. The room was engulfed in darkness. Hendricks returned to bed, tucking a bicep beneath Asher’s neck and pressing their bodies closer.

“Let’s call it a night,” said Hendricks. “I’ll wake up early and make you whatever you want for breakfast tomorrow. Or lunch. Whenever sleeping beauty decides to wake up.”

“Whatever I want?” repeated Asher.

“Anything at all.”

“Do you know how to make orange juice?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?”

“What about a croque monsieur?”

“A what?”

Asher laughed. “Don’t they have everything in America?”

“I mean, sure, I guess. Honestly, I haven’t been back to the states in a while.”

At that, they went quiet again. Work, Asher told himself. They listened to the low hum of the waves pushing and pulling in on themselves. They sounded so close to the house from here. Too close. Though he’d lived and grown on the pier all his life, Asher never did get used to the ocean’s frightening power. Local legends about mermaids that stole unborn children right out of women’s bellies didn’t help any either. He retreated deeper into the safety of Hendricks’ arms.

“How long do you have this time?” Asher asked then.

“Forever, baby.”

“Hendricks,” Asher called in a scolding tone.

“Yes?”

“Don’t joke around like that. Not about those kinds of things.”

“I’m not joking.”

Asher rose on his elbows. He reached for the end table and turned the lamplight on. Hendricks, studying Asher with sharp eyes, suddenly leapt up and smothered him in a sloppy embrace. They broke into a contagious laughter, although Asher’s was more due to Hendricks nuzzling his prickly beard into the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” said Hendricks. “I love you mucho más.”

“Hendricks!” shouted Asher, desperately gasping for breath.

Hendricks finally released him. “Let’s get married.”

“What?”

“Will you be my one and only, Asher?”

Asher didn’t realize his body had gone completely still. He tucked a stray bundle of hair behind his ear, scrambling his mind for the right words.

“But you still have to meet my parents,” stammered Asher. Damn it, was Hendricks playing the hopeless romantic just to torture him? Or was he really trying to be one? Whatever the case, it was starting to scare Asher. He didn’t know whether he was ready to fall for any of it. He then added softly, “And I’ll have to meet yours.”

“Sure, okay,” said Hendricks. The swiftness of his reply surprised Asher. “My old man doesn’t know about me being a cocksucker yet, but fuck it, I’m getting too old and tired to really give a shit anymore. I’ll give him a call as soon as it’s morning his time.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m the one who proposed, no?”

“I want to do it the right way, Hendricks. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Just right.”

“And I don’t care how we do it. As long as we do it.”

“No wonder you didn’t get down on your knees,” joked Asher. “And where’s my engagement ring? You’re doing it all wrong, you goose.”

“I was going to take you ring hunting tomorrow. Didn’t want to spend money on something you might not end up liking. Or did you prefer I pick something out? Not like there’s that much variety when it comes to men’s wedding bands, now that I think about it.”

Asher suddenly felt ashamed for trying to make light of the situation. Just more proof that he didn’t have the talent for humor like Hendricks did. More importantly, he was already beginning to realize Hendricks was being as serious as serious can be.

“But what about your job?” asked Asher. “Do you plan on taking me back to the states with you? How will I find a job? America wouldn’t even recognize my degree, you know, and I’ve already looked into it—”

“Gee, neat-looking house pops up in town out of nowhere, I’m suddenly as free as a bird, and I’m asking you to marry me out of the blue. So many questions, so little answers.”

“It’s just…” Asher trailed off, his mind drawing blanks.

“Hey.” Hendricks leaned in closer, his breath warm against Asher’s cheek. “I need you in my life. I don’t want to have it any other way.”

Asher could feel his body tensing up again. He still had so many other questions. Important questions. It was clear Hendricks was still hiding many things from him, and though the wild sex and the dreamy date nights and the expensive gifts masked them well, he could still feel every little jab from every little white lie.

“I’m not just some souvenir for you to collect and hide away when you’re done playing, you know,” said Asher. He tore himself from Hendricks’ grasp and sat on the edge of the bed. Hendricks clutched at his elbow, stopping him from moving any farther away.

“What kind of person do you take me for?” asked Hendricks softly.

“I don’t know,” said Asher. And he realized with dejection that it was truer in so many more ways than one. At every turn, he was reminded of the fact that he didn’t know what secret life Hendricks led beyond the ocean. Sure, he knew his favorite food was margherita pizza; that he was from the American Midwest and spent his extra cash gambling at the casinos on the American Indian reservations; and that he had an expensive cigar collection locked up in some secret vault somewhere, but what did any of that really tell Asher? What could he possibly do with such paltry information? They told him nothing about whether the man would make a reliable partner, let alone husband. For all Asher knew, Hendricks could be a serial killer on the run.

“Truth is, I’m a fucking nobody back home,” said Hendricks. “I go back to the states and I feel like I’m a stranger in my own land. You ever read that book, Stranger in a Strange Land? Everything feels so small. Especially the people. God, all the small people and their small pea brains, but I’m the shitbag. You slave away for your country, sacrifice your happiness just to make ends meet like anyone else, and what do they do? They spit in your face because of a few things that are off about you.” Asher turned to look at Hendricks to see the truth in his eyes. “It’s funny, really. I have to travel halfway across the world to feel like I’m anywhere near home.”

“I’m sorry,” said Asher, unable to find better words. “I didn’t know.”

“Never mind, Asher. I get where you’re coming from. I really do. At the end of the day, pretty words and impossible promises are all just that: hot air. What can I do then? I’ll just have to let my actions speak for themselves.”

“Hendricks—”

“Listen, why don’t you just sleep on it and tell me your answer when you’re ready? All I ask is that you don’t make me wait too long.”

Asher pursed his lips. “Okay,” he muttered quietly.

“Good night, babe.”

“Are you really staying?”

“Wake up tomorrow and see for yourself.”

Asher fell asleep and woke late the next morning. His heart sank when he saw the space beside him was empty, but the musky odor of their sex was still folded between the sheets. He was ready to spend the rest of the morning in bed to relive all of yesterday’s events until the smell of fried eggs, pork, and cheese suddenly wafted into the room. Hendricks opened the bedroom door with his foot, a tray of what looked to be grilled cheese sandwiches in one hand and a video camera in the other. Asher sat up to take in the sight before him. Nothing quite like being served breakfast by a striking, shirtless man at nine in the morning.

“Crock monsters,” announced Hendricks, placing the tray on the bed in front of Asher. “Didn’t have all the ingredients on hand, and the farmer’s market was a bit too far, so I improvised a little.”

Asher lifted one of the sandwiches open with a finger. There was a whole fried egg and melty white cheese, but there was also a heap of radioactive red piled on top of them.

“What’s that?” asked Asher, raising a suspicious brow.

“Don’t look so worried. It’s just pulled pork. Made it in the pressure cooker. Pretty neat idea, ain’t it?” Hendricks fiddled with his camera. It was a funny little device, an old thing from the nineties, but Hendricks swore by its tank-like durability. Once the camera was turned on, Hendricks picked up the sandwich with his other hand and began recording. He must have known Asher wouldn’t try it unless he was force fed, so he hovered the gooey triangle near Asher’s lips and took full advantage of Asher’s inability to say no. As soon as Asher took a bite, half of its contents spilled out the other side of the sandwich. He laughed between a mouthful.

“It’s good,” Asher confessed. Hendricks chuckled, watching his lover’s reaction through the camera. Hendricks certainly hadn’t been sparing with the butter, either. “Just…maybe not so easy to eat.”

“That sounds just like you,” said Hendricks.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You like to play hard to get.”

“Maybe you just need to learn how to play the game better, Hendricks.”

“I got all day to play, honey,” said Hendricks, shutting off his camera. He attempted to repair the sandwich with a fork before trying a bite himself and smiling in self-approval. They finished their meal in bed quick. Neither of them had eaten all day yesterday, seeing as they were too busy rearranging each other’s internal organs. Not that any less than stellar accidents would have discouraged either of them from having their way with the other. For someone whose definition of art essentially boiled down to “neat stuff to look at,” Hendricks could be surprisingly creative. Certainly open-minded.

“I’ll see about taking some days off for the week,” said Asher, finishing his glass of orange juice. He could tell it was fresh-squeezed, too. “Did you call your father?”

Hendricks raised a brow. “If you’re asking about him, then does that mean you already have an answer for me?”

“Oh, I—” Asher paused. He was suddenly quivering inside again. Still afraid. “I think I will. Get married to you, I mean.”

“You don’t sound so sure, Asher. There’s no turning back with me, you know. This is for life.”

“You swear?”

“On my fucking grave, or so god help me.”

“Then I’m sure, Hendricks. Let’s do it.”

But of course I’m sure, Asher told himself. How many times had he daydreamed at the window of his bedroom, wondering when Hendricks’ next visit would be? Asher used to tell his friends that he remained faithful just to make their reunions that much more titillating, but he realized now that it was just something stupid he used to say to avoid being judged or lectured. Since day one, Asher had longed to be picked up off his feet and whisked away. Just like in the movies. And not just by anyone, either, but by the mysterious American man who stole away a piece of him every time he disappeared. It was one of those silly little secrets he kept cloistered in his heart for fear it would shatter as soon as someone else saw it.

Hendricks smiled, and Asher did, too. They didn’t bother with getting dressed. After a soak in the bathtub together, they decided to spend another day in after all. The rings, Asher’s parents, Hendricks’ father, the wedding plans, the immigration process, and the financial talk; they could all wait for a little while longer.

The week passed by like one long episode of déjà vu. Unlike his previous visits, however, Hendricks was different this time around. How could Asher possibly begin to describe it? More clingy? More vulnerable? Hendricks would randomly tear up whenever they made love or suddenly go off on a tangent about all the things they would do together. Should they get a dog or a cat? Where should their honeymoon be? Should they get a boat like everyone else in town? What was Asher planning to do about his apartment? Asher himself wasn’t quite there yet. He was still a little shell-shocked from everything happening so quickly, but he was excited all the same.

Just like that, another day came and went. The crashing waves were terribly loud that night, but unlike Asher, Hendricks had easily fallen asleep to the sounds. He snored softly, his eyelids twitching from lucid dreams. Asher was careful not to wake Hendricks as he slipped out of his grasp. He borrowed one of Hendricks’ t-shirts and pulled it on over his boxer briefs before heading downstairs, the wooden floorboards creaking with his every step.

The sand was as cold as it was soft. He stared out at the turbulent black expanse. The tide was high tonight. Asher’s father used to warn him to stay away from the shores on nights like this, in the same breath reaching for his heavy-duty fishing gear in the kitchen pantry. The next day, Asher’s father would return home with fish bigger than little Asher himself. Their family of three would have enough to eat for at least five days straight, though Asher did grow tired of eating tuna jerky and stewed fish at some point.

The truth was, Asher’s parents had already passed away some years ago. Nothing terribly difficult. Just old age. But it meant he didn’t have anyone particularly close left to talk to in this small town. He was lucky enough to have enough friends and co-workers to count on two hands, but even they were beginning to fade away, too. Life had a strange way of doing that to people. One moment, two people were close enough to embrace each other without hesitation, then the next, they were just another name in a long list of contacts. Would getting married change that between him and Hendricks? His own parents had been in love for over forty years. They taught him to treasure his body as much as his heart. All Asher could do now was pray that things would be the same for him as they had been for his parents.

Asher proceeded into the wet sand. It was even colder here. The water came awfully close to touching his toes when he suddenly felt someone embrace him from behind. Hendricks latched onto him tight, burying his face in his shoulder.

“It’s too cold to go swimming right now, baby,” muttered Hendricks. “Isn’t it?”

“I guess it is,” said Asher. His goosebumps had goosebumps. He could barely feel the warmth of Hendricks’ bare skin against his.

“Let’s go back inside,” said Hendricks.

“Can’t we stay a little longer?”

“The ocean’s not going anywhere.”

Asher obeyed. The way Hendricks clung to his hand, he had a mighty feeling that Hendricks wouldn’t have allowed him to stay outside anyway. They went to the bathroom first where Hendricks cleaned Asher’s feet with his own hands, taking care to remove every grain of sand. He couldn’t possibly let sand get into their little love nest, after all.

“How about we go for a drive tomorrow?” suggested Hendricks.

“You have a car?” asked Asher.

“Of course I have a car. It’s a nice car, too. We can check out the countryside.”

“Technically, we’re already in the countryside.”

“Oh, yeah? Then where’s all your cows and chickens?”

“On our dinner plates.”

Hendricks laughed, shaking his head. “Great. Now I’m not tired anymore.”

“Me neither,” admitted Asher.

“Good,” said Hendricks. He rose to his feet. Suddenly, Asher was on Hendricks’ shoulder like a wet towel. Hendricks had picked him up as easily as he would a sun-dried log on the beach.

“Hendricks!” Asher exclaimed in warning as he was tossed back onto bed almost callously. Hendricks didn’t take heed, barely giving Asher any time to raise his defenses as he pounced on top of him. Suddenly, they were shoving and kissing, pulling and grinding, panting and moaning between laughter and shouts of protests alike.

Hendricks didn’t give Asher another chance to leave that night. Asher tried a few times, but Hendricks shook his head no and begged him to stay. At some point, Asher realized his lover was actually suffering from a bout of delirious dreams. In the end, Asher didn’t have the heart to pry himself free again. He stayed in Hendricks’ arms the whole night through, holding him through his nightmares.

The next day, they woke early. Asher said to hell with returning to work and didn’t bother with warning his co-workers, too caught up in Hendricks’ world of magic. Just before leaving the house, he decided to leave his phone behind altogether, taking nothing but the clothes on his back.

The morning sun was on Hendricks’ short-cropped hair, lighting up his gaze from behind as he drove. He was gorgeous. A darling, shooting star. But damn it, Asher couldn’t help laughing at it all. It was really true; his crazy, spontaneous, rambunctious Hendricks really did go and buy a car in a place where nearly everyone only owned a bike or a scooter. And it was a convertible. An American convertible, in Asher’s little town! To his amazement, the car lasted the entirety of their trip before they had to stop and fuel up again at one of only two gas stations on the entire island.

What could Asher possibly say? It was a wonderful trip. The greatest time in his life. They even saw the cows and chickens. Flocks of sheep, too. The experience brought him to tears and made his chest heavy just to dwell on it.

“What do you think about kids, Hendricks?” asked Asher on their way back to the house.

“They’re hell spawn,” he answered at once. “But I can go for two or three. Four’s really pushing it though, babe.”

That night, it was Hendricks’ turn to watch Asher sleep. Though Asher fought the urge, listening keenly to the ocean’s rolling waves, he couldn’t resist the lull of sleep as Hendricks ran his fingers along his spine in a rhythmic pattern.

“Where do you want to go next?” Hendricks asked in a whisper. “We can go anywhere.”

“Nowhere,” Asher replied softly.

“Nowhere at all?”

“Here’s just fine,” Asher whispered, his eyes fluttering closed on their own.

Asher woke the next morning to the sounds of Hendricks at the writing desk, mumbling to himself as he skimmed through a book. Had he truly quit his job just to be with Asher? Was he really willing to give up the life he knew for this sleepy little town with only one movie theater to go around? Questions were still swirling around in his head. Hendricks turned around in his chair as Asher stirred in bed.

“How about we go dancing tonight?” asked Hendricks. He closed his book and removed his reading glasses.

“I thought you didn’t care for dancing,” replied Asher.

“Yeah, in public.”

“What are you planning this time, Hendricks Miller?”

“We’re only doing the best things now that I’m here, Asher.”

“You’re scary when you say things like that, you know.”

“Scary?” Hendricks chuckled. “What am I, a bad guy? Are we in a horror movie?”

“You shouldn’t force yourself to do things you don’t like, is all,” said Asher. Except what he really meant to say was that Hendricks was saying things that Asher knew were too good to be true. It was only natural for someone to fear being let down by a loved one. Wasn’t it?

“If it’s for you, it’s okay,” said Hendricks. When he returned to bed, his skin was icy cold. He must have been awake for some time, sitting up in the early morning without his clothes. Asher shivered, rubbing his hands on Hendricks’ skin to warm him up. Hendricks being Hendricks, however, had a better idea of how to warm up.

They didn’t bother waiting for the night to go dancing. Hendricks put on some music and led Asher downstairs, the both of them still dressed in only their underwear. He’d already had his camera set up to record before they commenced their blissful ritual. Asher would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling dreadfully embarrassed, but Hendricks tenderly reminded him that it was just the two of them. It was okay to be anything Asher wanted to be around Hendricks. Good, bad, embarrassing. Hendricks wanted to see all of it.

When things got heated, they proceeded to make their mark on as many pieces of furniture across the house as they could, further cementing their dominion over their new territory. They didn’t bother getting up from the plush rug on the ground by the time night arrived again. With a press of the remote control, Hendricks turned on the TV. Asher lay back in stunned silence as he watched their life together come alive before his very eyes.

Hendricks hadn’t missed a single day of their sparse time together. They could probably count all the scattered days they had managed to see each other on a single calendar year, but seeing them coming together, molding into such a wonderful shape, it felt as though they had known each other for very long indeed.

Asher fell asleep to the sounds of Hendricks’ dulled laughter on the TV. Something about a harsh sunburn on the one tiny spot Asher had missed with the sunblock.

When Asher opened his eyes again, Hendricks’ back was to him. Asher pressed a kiss on his lover’s shoulder before rising to his feet. This time, his footsteps were soundless as he made his way across the living room. The house was almost utterly without light, encased in a dark gray shadow, but somehow, his legs knew precisely where to go. He sifted a hand between framed photographs of him and Hendricks lining the walls and bookshelves, collecting a layer of dust on the tip of his fingers. Hendricks had been careful to label each photo with a date and the place they were taken. As free and quirky as he was at times, he could be awfully meticulous when it came to certain things.

Asher eventually found himself on the other side of the front door. His movements were slow and heavy as he made his way to the shore.

The tide was low this time, the moon just a small white coin in the background. Though her dark depths were unfathomable, the sea was calm that night. Asher quickly realized that the sound of her waves didn’t frighten him like they did so many other nights. In that moment, they were rather soothing. A lullaby. He took a step forward, wet sand squishing between his toes. Foamy water licked at his feet. It wasn’t as cold as he or Hendricks feared. Actually, he felt nothing at all, and when he submerged his body into the water, he felt weightless. Hendricks didn’t come for him this time.

Asher didn’t swim or breath. He allowed the water to swallow him, watching as the white coin in the sky slowly began to fade. Suddenly, it was impossible to tell which way was up or down or even whether he was floating or falling. Asher closed his eyes, seeing no point in trying to figure it out.

When he opened them again, Hendricks appeared before him. He wasn’t sleeping on the floor of their house. He wasn’t in their house at all. He lay in a deep sleep in a coffin-like vessel, surrounded by gentle blue lights reminiscent of his own blue eyes. Asher, no longer suspended in water, stepped closer, tilting his head in curiosity as he studied his lover’s face. Tears trickled from the corners of Hendricks’ resting eyes. Even as Asher touched them, it was difficult to say whether the tears were fresh or had been there so long that they had frozen in place and stained his skin.

Kneeling down, Asher inspected the hand resting on Hendricks’ stomach. Two rings wrapped around his fourth finger. A faded photograph that had been folded many times over was nestled beneath his palm. Asher didn’t have to look at it. He had seen it enough times to know what was in the photo.

Asher pressed a kiss on Hendricks’ forehead. If only there was space beside him, but it had clearly been made to fit only one. Well, no matter. Their little love nest on the hill was probably more comfortable anyway.

Asher rose and turned around, casting one last look at Hendricks before leaving. The small town slowly appeared before him again, inundated beneath the ocean waves just the same as he was. When he returned to the shore, the town didn’t emerge with him. There was only the house on the top of the rocky cliff, looking out across the vast, black ocean.

Hendricks stood alone on the balcony. Heavy shadows hid his expression from his lover. He waited patiently for Asher to return to their bedroom on the second floor. As soon as they reunited, Hendricks held onto Asher tight.

—

“I was told there was a place where we can meet our loved ones again. Someplace where they will always be alive. It’d be cruel to take him away from where he is right now, seeing as he’s in the safest place he could be, but I’d like to think that I can at least meet him somewhere halfway.”