Sexy Gay Stories - Volume One - three m/m short stories

Ben’s eyes.
    ‘I don’t get it,’ he says to Louis, who’s stripping off shoes and socks and faded T-shirt, leaving only his shorts behind, preparing to brave the waves. ‘You hate water.’
    ‘Nah, man, I hate showering. The beach is totally different.’ Louis gives Ben a wide grin, and the brightness of that is equal to the waves; the same amount of almost-hurt in the beam of it. Ben gives a quick smile in reply.
    He stands back as Lou runs to the shoreline and launches straight in with a yell of, ‘Come on, it’s fucking awesome out here!’ to Ben. Ben watches as Lou disappears under the gleaming blue-white lattice of the wind-stirred waves. 
    Their bands have been on tour together for six weeks so far, another eight and a half to go. Life is a series of dusty towns and loud, dirty festivals, of crowds of love-struck teenage eyes staring up at the stage as they play, of tiny bunk beds on buses and hundreds of people at constant close quarters. It’s grimy and seedy and vibrant and so full of life that some days Ben thinks that his exhausted heart is going to just swell up and explode from how amazing his life is.
    There are a few basic rules in the touring life: be on time for your band’s performance slot, don’t shit in the bus bathrooms, keep your cool when things go wrong (and things will go wrong all the time), tour flings are tour flings.
    And at first, Louis had seemed like the perfect tour fling. Ben was a short guy, even by band standards (for some reason, the rock’n’roll lifestyle attracted a lot of people of the diminutive persuasion), but Louis was just the same height as him. Louis was the lead guitarist in the band just before Ben’s band in the festival line-up, and so Ben usually got to watch from the side of the stage as Lou threw himself around, his playing exuberant and full of life, his wild charisma sending the crowd crazy with screams. Making something fierce and wanting flare in Ben. 
    While Ben’s band played, with Ben on rhythm guitar, he’d sometimes glance over and see Louis sitting on one of the heavy equipment trunks which littered the side of the stage. Louis, watching Ben with a rapt expression, like there was nothing more compelling in the world than some skinny, scruffy musician guy with light brown hair.
    Louis, on the other hand, is beautiful, never more so than right now as he reappears above the surface of the water and waves an arm above his head, beckoning Ben to come join him. They’ve snuck away from their bands and from the dozen other people their bands need around them to function, in order to come out here to the local waterfront for a few hours of quiet, finding respite from the battering heat in the cool waves. Or at least Louis has. So far all Ben’s done is stand and look, sand getting inside his canvas sneakers.
    Lou’s hair is standard-issue rock-star black, with highlights of red and blue lurking among the darker locks and then catching the light at unexpected moments. His eyes are hazel-green and his smile makes Ben feel hot and stupid and reckless and alive.
    Louis seemed like the perfect tour fling in every way, but now that Ben’s here it’s harder to be sure. What if he’s read the signals wrong and Lou isn’t into guys? Maybe he has a boyfriend or a girlfriend back at home, living an ordinary day-job life while their lover lives in the perpetual in-between world of travel and music and stolen afternoons out in the waves?
    Lou jogs back up the beach to where Ben is still standing, tanned bare skin dripping with diamond-bright drops of water. The sunlight’s so strong that everything is too sharp to look at easily. 
    ‘C’mon, why the wait?’ Louis asks with a curious tilt of his head, obviously perplexed. 
    So Ben decides to trust his instinct – the same instinct that told him, two years ago, to drop out of college and get serious about music – and steps forward, pressing his mouth to Lou’s and licking in, tasting salt and cola and sun block on Lou’s lips.
    The ocean has chilled the temperature of Lou’s skin, making the kiss cool for the first split-second. Then Lou’s lips part and his tongue is hot and slick, teeth biting at Ben’s own lips.
    The sun is too bright so Ben closes his eyes, letting all his senses narrow in on the feeling of Lou’s mouth, the way it’s stretching into a smile even as they’re still pressing in closer against one another, trying to deepen this first excited exploration