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“Well, your boyfriend has to spend his ill-gotten money on something, doesn’t he? If your boyfriend doesn’t spend his money on expensive gifts, it’ll be donated by his heinous mother to churchy causes which we know are firmly against top surgeries and other queer activities. And your boyfriend finds that idea detestable.”
Gabe looked up, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Does he? Does he find it just absolutely disgusting?”
“Dreadful, even,” Oliver said, his voice dropping a bit as he shifted down a little more. “Has your boyfriend ever told you how incredibly sexy your fingers are?”
“He has,” Gabe said, his voice going just as low as Oliver’s. “Are you inclined to agree?”
“I would,” Oliver said slowly, shifting now so they were both sharing Gabe’s towel, lying face-to-face, “but your boyfriend seems like the jealous type who would not appreciate even the most attractive of English blokes chatting you up.”
“Mm, I suppose he is,” Gabe said, taking those aforementioned elegant fingers and cupped them around Oliver’s cheek. “Good thing I love him, you know?”
“Do you now?” Oliver’s tone was full of reverence. They had said their I love yous before, but they kept them few and far between, so every time he heard it, it sent a thrill up and down his spine.
“I do. Very much.” Gabe turned his face to the side so their lips met, pushing together gently, carefully, and Oliver breathed out hard through his nose.
“Good thing I love you just the same.” Oliver cupped his hand around Gabe’s hip and held him tight. “This has been a damn good day, you know.”
“Well, I think so,” Gabe said from behind a small laugh. He pressed his forehead against Oliver’s and basked for several, long minutes. “In three years,” Gabe said very quietly, his voice heard just above the waves, “we’re both going to be boring old career men. And after our traditional trip to the beach, you’re going to take me on some nerdy, professor-y vacation to London. And we’ll do all sorts of things boring old couples do. Like museums and galleries.”
“And we’ll have tea at outdoor cafés and laugh at all the punk kids on the street and completely forget when we were exactly like them.”
Gabe chuckled and pulled Oliver in for another kiss. “So, about that shag you mentioned.”
“The one a year from now?”
“Yes, that one.” Gabe paused to kiss him again. “I think we should probably head back to the apartment and practice. You know, just so we get it right.”
Oliver groaned, pulling Gabe down and slipped his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth, drawing out a kiss, long and slow. “And maybe a naked shower?”
“Yeah,” Gabe breathed. “A naked shower sounds nice.”
Scrambling to his feet, Oliver shoved Gabe onto the sand as he hurried to fold the towel while his boyfriend giggled. Brushing himself off, Gabe finally rose to help clean up, and before long, they had supplies in the beach basket, the umbrella and chairs folded back into their carrying cases, and t-shirts wrapped around the backs of their necks.
They were just reaching the tide wall when Oliver’s phone began to buzz in his pocket, and he grumbled, shifting the basket to his other arm as he reached for it. Glancing at the screen, he saw his sibling’s name flashing, and he sighed as he answered.
“This had better be good. I’m in the middle of a beach day and I’m about to get a shag, so…”
“You need to come home.” There was something in Leo’s tone that was dark, almost terrified, and Oliver froze. “Right now. Ten minutes ago, actually.”
“What’s going on?”
“Just get home.” Leo paused for a long moment, then said, “Dad’s here. I can’t do this on my own. Please.”
There was a funny buzzing noise in his head, and it took several moments for Oliver to realize he’d dropped the basket. Gabe was grabbing his arm, trying to get his attention after picking their things back up. “Yeah, I…okay. Yes. I’ll be there quick as I can.”
“Good.” And with that, Leo disconnected the call.
Feeling numb and confused, Oliver blinked up at Gabe. “I…have to go. I have to go home.”
“What happened?” Gabe asked. He reached for the back of Oliver’s neck, and not thinking, Oliver wrenched away from his grasp. Reeling back like he’d been slapped, Gabe’s eyes went hard. “What’s happening?”
Oliver swallowed thickly. “I…my dad. My dad’s at mine. I need to…something must be wrong.” He was desperate to cling onto a coherent thought, desperate to keep his head straight.
“Alright,” Gabe said carefully. “Let’s get a cab, yeah? It’ll be faster than the bus, and there’s a bunch out on the main road right now.”
Oliver nodded, saying nothing as he followed Gabe past the tide wall. They pushed through the crowd walking along the boardwalk, out to the main road where there was a string of yellow cabs waiting for passengers all along the curb. Gabe hailed the first one, and they managed to squeeze themselves and their supplies into the back.
Oliver sat, mute and terrified as Gabe gave directions to the apartment, then handed over his card ten minutes later when they arrived. Oliver let his boyfriend take his hand, pulling him out, and they made their way up to the too-quiet living room where Oliver started to tremble.
