Everyone's Beach

CW: Sexually suggestive content

One morning, we hitched a ride to a cafe dimpled in the bustle of the square, artfully laid tables decorating the cobblestone outside and vines crawling over its roof. After enjoying a tray full of crumbling pastries, their buttery glazes glimmering in the Italian sunshine, I found myself wondering why I’d ever thought it a smart idea to move to England for university.

Adjacent to me, Archie licked the delicate flakes from around his mouth, his lips stained red from gluey raspberry jam. The crocheted shirt that stretched over his rounded shoulders was undone at the top, revealing the golden tan he’d picked up from just two days of this holiday.

On second thoughts, an English university had been the smartest decision I’d ever made.

“Are there any nice beaches around here, Gio?” Archie asked.

I paused my nibbling of a lemon-cream cannoli. “Yeah, a few. They’re mostly packed with tourists at this time of year though.”

Archie shrugged. “That’s part of the atmosphere. But I’m sure you know some secluded spots if that’s what you want.” His low voice had a penchant for redirecting most of my blood somewhere inconvenient for public places. It was annoying as hell.

“There are no secluded spots. And I also hate all people.”

“Uh huh,” Archie said, unimpressed. “What about me?”

“That depends on whether you make me go to the beach or not,” I mumbled.

He pointed his pastry at me, some flakes scattering off into the mild breeze. “You don’t want to go to the beach.”

“You should get a prize for that clever deduction,” I commented dryly.

“Why no beach?” he asked, combing the fluffy, blonde quiff out of his eyes; it bounced right back.

I shrugged. “Because.”

“That wasn’t a full sentence.”

“You know what? I change my answer. I do hate you.”

Archie served me a glorious smile. “Great. Now I can make you go to the beach with no consequences.”

The cannoli crumbled between my fingertips in a way I deemed to be threatening. “That’s what you think.”

Archie smirked, knowing my dominance started and ended with inanimate pastries who didn’t fight back. And who didn’t have a raspberry-sweet tongue that turned me into jelly preserve.

“I think,” Archie said, “you might like it if you give it a try. Plus, you need to be there to see me form my opinion.”

“You can go form your opinion without me.”

His mouth tugged into a pout. “But then my opinion will be, This beach is nice, but I don’t care because Giorgio’s not here.”

He knew how to butter me up. My heart softened, ready to be spread wherever he wanted.

Archie, devising he had an edge, went in for the kill. “If you come with me, my shirt will be off the entire time.”

Every vessel in my cheeks flooded with heat. I quickly scanned the area to make sure no-one had heard. The square was bustling with Italians and tourists, the cloudless sky painting their colours bold, everybody intent on themselves and not at all on my boyfriend’s enchanting, manipulative tactics.

I internally groaned at my own pliability. “God, fine,” I relented. “Only to shut you up though.”

“Yay!” Archie squealed, clapping his hands. “Andiamo.”

Let’s go.

He’d been learning some basic phrases, and even though he sounded clunky, the flat British accent stumped by the curls, it still evoked an embarrassing level of reaction from me.

We followed signs through the city to get to the nearest beach, flitting through the swarms of people, walking along red-bricked streets and across a bridge overlooking the sun-soaked water.

Periwinkle stretched for miles either way, dressed in foam and fishing boats, and embracing the horizon. The people were packed in like sardines on the sand, under bright yellow umbrellas, not a single unattended deck chair in sight. Vans selling ice cream and fried food were sewn into the patchwork, wafting their smells amongst the crowds. The chaos amplified when you noticed the dozen frisbees whisking past, the kites sparring in the air, and dodgy sellers trying to shift knock-off handbags.

We started weaving through the blanket of people, threading up and down and having to dodge a father carrying four children on his back and another vendor trying to sell Archie a perfume for the girlfriend he must have. He quickly walked past the latter before I could straggle out some empty threats.

Eventually, we found two unattended deck chairs, and I carefully laid down towels on them for us. My attention got aggressively yanked elsewhere though, like the sun had descended from the heavens and come to gift me a view mere mortals couldn’t comprehend.

Archie was taking his shirt off.

The hem rose over his head, leaving behind layer upon layer of bronzed skin, soft contours deepening every brushstroke, planes of muscle carved from blessed gold. A dollop of creamy sunblock drew a line down his sternum, and his hands rubbed it in slowly, making a show of it. Tensed fingers, parted jaw and snickering at me as my gaze refused to waver. Like at all. Not even when I had to steal his discarded shirt to cover my lower half with it.

“Are you in a better mood now?” Archie teased.

I rolled my eyes but didn’t reply.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he whispered playfully. “I know how to show my boyfriend a good time.” He offered me the bottle. “Do my back?”

I hesitated, biting my lip.

Archie looked at my lap. “Yeah, probably not the best idea,” he said in mock sympathy. “Anyone could see how pleased you are to see me without a shirt.”

“Shut the hell up,” I hissed. “Just… give me a minute.”

He snorted. “I think if you’re still staring, the minute doesn’t count.”

I groaned and laid back, closing my eyes, even though my vision was still engrained with the image, and of his face contorted in different levels of ecstasy.

Archie’s weight lowered next to me. “You’re really beautiful in the sun.”

“Get off my chair,” I snapped in response. “I’m trying to accomplish something here and your proximity isn’t helping.”

“God, if I’d have known you were this wound up,” he whispered, “I would’ve gotten you off this morning.”

I opened my eyes to glare at him.

“Don’t worry,” he nudged me, completely unbothered. “I’ll help you out tonight. As many times as you want.”

I felt my glare slowly slide away, despite my instruction. “Are you done?” I asked irritably. “I’d like to get out of this chair at some point.”

“Just let me help,” Archie said. “Okay, make your mind go blank…”

I exhaled. “Mmm?”

“Picture total nothingness…”

“Mmm?”

“And then…” His hand found my thigh. “Imagine my tongue trailing along your—”

“Archie!” I complained with a whine, elbowing him off my chair.

He was laughing so hard, he fell onto the sand, grains now glued to his sticky body. It somehow looked sexier.

“Have I mentioned I hate you?” I muttered.

“Apparently not.”

“God, shut up already.”

The day did not get better.

My boyfriend had forced me into the sea. Seaweed caught between my toes, saltwater in my mouth was shrivelling my cheeks, and there was the threat of dangerous creatures like sharks, jellyfish and crabs. None had actually attacked yet, but it was probably imminent.

Although, as I watched Archie jump in time to the waves, his golden shoulders glistening with sweat, and his laugh unlocking part of my brain I’d thought I’d never see again, I wondered if maybe I was being dramatic.

“Hey, Gio, check me out!” Archie pointed to the seaweed moustache he’d given himself by pursing his lips. “Do you think Triton looks like this?”

I cracked up. “Please stop making fun of the god of the sea whilst we’re in his domain.”

“You think he’ll tsunami us to death?”

“We can only hope,” I joked. “Also, no, he doesn’t look like that.”

Archie added more strings of sea plants into his hair. “What about now?”

I pushed his arm. “No,” I repeated. “Not even close.”

“Well, he’s a god, isn’t he?” Archie said. “He could look like this if he wanted to.”

I snorted. “No-one would want to look like that.”

“What?” Archie asked, now placing a couple of shells on his head with the greenery so he looked like a shipwreck. He pulled a stupid face. “Like this?”

I cracked up again. “Stop,” I begged when he changed his face into something even more absurd. “You’re going to drown me.”

“No, Gio!” he exclaimed dramatically, making a beeline for me. “No, don’t drown!” He swam into me, his body lithe under the water like a muscly salmon.

“I’m not drowning!” I laughed, trying to wrestle him. “At least, I wasn’t until you interfered!”

Archie ignored me and planted his feet down before scooping me up into a bridal style lift under the water. He spun me around in circles and I leaned my head backwards, so the water dressed my scalp, cooling me to my core.

“Your braids look like a mermaid’s when you do that,” Archie commented in awe, his eyes as saturated as pearls. “Pretty…”

I splashed him. “You’re staring,” I complained.

Archie grinned gloriously and my pulse quickened. “How can I not?” he asked. “You are stunning.”

My face warmed and I pushed away from him because I couldn’t deal with the maelstrom my stomach had turned into. “You can get lost now,” I mumbled.

I heard him laughing as I waded away, every step having my feet sink a little into the soft sand. Then a loud splash sounded behind, and I turned to see him swimming fast towards me. My chest exploded in excitement as I tried to get away, but I had never really learnt to swim properly.

Archie had bottomless lungs apparently because he dove under a couple feet from me and a second later, I felt him grab my sides. He managed to anchor on despite me trying to slap him away and then swam right through my legs all in a single breath.

He emerged and shook his head like a shaggy golden retriever, which would have looked picturesque if it was in slow motion and also if he wasn’t spraying stingy seawater into my eyes.

“Oh, hi,” he said as I scowled at him. “I haven’t seen a handsome guy like you around here before. Do you come here often?”

I rolled my eyes. “You can stop with the fake pickup lines since you’ve literally just been between my legs,” I mumbled, smiling.

Archie nodded, still in character. “I must be lost,” he said. “Could you help me find my way?”

“No,” I stated.

Archie raised his eyebrows, a defiant look drenching his features. “Do I need to explore all by my lonesome again?” he asked suggestively, looking down at my body.

“Hey, no,” I laughed, splashing water in his face. “You stop that.”

Archie didn’t even notice my viscous attack as he closed in on me.

“You stay away!” I chuckled, backing up but annoyingly, the sea seemed to work against me.

Archie cut through the water effortlessly though and enveloped me into a cuddle, poking into my sensitive spots, making me scream with laughter. He picked me up by my thighs so he could twirl me out of the water. I bit my lip watching him, his damp hair dripping into the beautiful asymmetry of his smile, the dimples pockets of joy that effervesced between us, everything bright enough to burn.

He lowered me carefully so my face wouldn’t submerge, and neither of us stepped away.

“I don’t think I’m lost anymore,” Archie whispered.

I rolled my eyes. “That’s too cheesy,” I complained, which was why I felt pathetic that it worked on me so well. My heart was summersaulting, and anticipatory tingles were spiking through my bloodstream.

If we weren’t in public, I would’ve kissed him by now.

If we were a straight couple, I probably would’ve kissed him by now.

I really wanted to kiss him.

Italy was pretty liberal, right? I didn’t really know. Growing up here, I hadn’t paid that much attention, having only discovered this gem of me existed when I’d left. After a lifetime of uncertainty, falling for Archie had been the surest thing I’d ever done, even if it had taken me a minute to realise it wasn’t normal for your stomach to curl into your toes whenever your really good friend was around.

Archie was less scared about PDA, always so confident, and holding himself to nobody’s ideals but his own, but he’d been more than understanding when it had taken me a few long months to become comfortable leaning into my instincts in public places, which even now still only included secluded gatherings in areas that were known to be queer friendly, and surrounded by people I felt safe with.

I know it’s not for nothing, he'd said. The fear. It’s there for a reason, so don’t feel guilty about listening to it.

That was after I’d explained to him that my desire never got diminished, but when it had dozens of other emotions piled on top, it could get suffocating, stifled from the oxygen all good things need.

Like it was now.

Dread was wreathing in the vulnerabilities of my excitement, conjuring disturbing consequences if we as good as labelled ourselves as The gay couple amongst everybody else’s fun.

Had we already been too obvious with the twirling and the lifting? No, friends did that. Friends didn’t kiss though. If people got bothered by it, would I care? This should always win out but was that always the case in reality? Was it fair that I had to have this internal debate to decide whether to express something freely when the majority of the population already had that unspoken right?

“Gio?” Archie asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I muttered, swaying my hands in the water and looking at his lips. “There’s just… a lot of people here.”

Archie nodded in understanding. “In some ways…” he started quietly, “the more people there are, the more invisible we can be...”

I looked around us, at the dense population in the water, families laughing with their kids, couples and groups playing ball games and teenagers in ringed floats, everyone having a good time and no-one paying us any attention.

Would that change if I kissed a guy in their proximity though? Would it all collapse around me? Would I be sucked into the depths where some of them wished me to be?

“Hey, Gio, honey,” Archie said, grounding me back by taking my hands and swishing them gently. “I would adore kissing you right now too. But… you know what’s also hot?”

“Hmm?”

He winked at me. “Waiting,” he replied, in that suggestive tone that made my insides roll. “Who knows how wound up you’ll be,” Archie continued quietly, “after earlier and now this… You’ll jump me as soon as we get back to the hotel and it’ll be sexy as hell.”

I rolled my eyes. “In your dreams,” I replied though it was probably (definitely) true. “You’re worse than I am. You can’t keep your hands off me.”

Archie shrugged. “I didn’t hear you objecting.”

I let out a fake laugh. “Oh, right, were my subtle hints like stay away and get lost not clear enough?”

Archie gave me a teasing smile. “No real objections,” he corrected. “I know you, and what I know about tonight is that you won’t last… let’s say, thirty seconds? Being generous obviously. And that’s if I let you have it all at once.”

Fuck me, why?

Archie offered me a juxtaposing innocent grin. “So, does that help?”

Well, I wasn’t stressing about one of the best parts of me being shunned by society anymore, that was for sure.

“I’ll take your wide eyes and flushed cheeks and…” he looked down pointedly, “that, as a yes.”

“Stop,” I whined, “before I drown you.”

Archie laughed. “You want to push my head down that bad?” he teased.

I scowled at him before turning away, looking at the other people around us to calm down.

“Oh, god,” Archie said urgently. “Gio, look!”

I whipped around. “What? What is it?”

Archie had shaped his wet hair into a lopsided, soggy triangle, and his head was half submerged in the water. “Oh no…” he teased. “It’s a… shark attack!”

I yelped to humour him, already chortling as my dorky boyfriend did his shark bit and we both splashed through the water, wrestling and having fun and okay, maybe the sea wasn’t that bad.

Definitely.

It definitely wasn’t that bad.