Chapter Text
“MARCUS! What did I just say about bombing in the pool…..I’m sorry love, is your laptop okay?”
Louis blinked the pool water out of his eyes and lifted his laptop out of the puddle that had collected around it. He wiped the screen with his discarded t-shirt.
Shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, he squinted at the woman now stood over him, her face a mix of concern and exasperation.
“Err, yeah, it's fine, they’re hardy things nowadays…should’ve known better than to bring it to the pool..haha”, he laughed, not wanting her to feel badly for the behaviour of her errant children.
A shout from the other side of the pool was enough to distract her attention away from Louis’ sodden possessions.
“Christ, what now?” she said and was gone.
He’d already moved sunbeds once. The pool, like the hotel, was small, only big enough to host a dozen beds. Louis, to his frustration, was discovering that there was no means of escaping this family. With the resignation of a defeated man, he gathered up his wet belongings, pulled on his clothes and headed out of the hotel.
Louis was three months post break-up from Michael and had finally given in to his friend Claire’s advice to “get away for a week”. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be getting away from. They’d been living together for a few years and for the most part had enjoyed a companionable domesticity. But over time, what Louis had once found safe and stable, had begun to feel unsatisfying and aimless.
When the end came, there was no eruption. Like two tectonic plates at the mercy of the earthly forces that governed them, they were pulled apart until they were separate land masses. The gradual accumulation of too many unresolved irritations had forged an ever expanding distance between them and before long, it occurred to Louis that there was no way back. In the weeks following the break up, Louis had felt more relieved than heartbroken. The distant presence of the man he’d once loved had made him lonely in a way that no solitude ever had. But as time passed, that relief came burdened by a sense of loss of that piece of himself that they’d once shared.
When Louis had decided on the Greek island of Iraklia, he’d hoped that the three-hour flight to Athens and consequent seven-hour ferry journey from Piraeus would be enough to deter even the most adventurous parents. Sadly, he had not reckoned on Sandra and Stuart. Louis didn’t dislike children. He might have even toyed with the idea of having his own someday. But the hollering and splashing had proven to be at odds with the quiet week in the sun that he craved.
Like much of the accommodation that the island offered, the hotel was small and offered little in the way of facilities, save for the pool and breakfast bar. As much as Louis had tried to keep his own company, he had found it difficult to entirely avoid the attention of the other guests.
Sandra had struck up conversation with Louis at breakfast that morning, going as far as to invite him to join their table. You’ve got to be fucking joking…, he thought, as he looked over at her children, one trying to force feed a slice of watermelon to the other.
”Oh no, I’m fine here, thanks. I need to catch up on emails. Thank you though.” he said, trying to look grateful.
They chatted for long enough for Louis to learn that the family had been staying with friends on nearby Naxos and had decided to venture to Iraklia for a few nights to give their friends a break. Louis nodded at this information, understanding why someone would need a break from her children.
Having failed to find tranquillity at the pool, Louis wandered down to the port to get some lunch. From his conversation with Sandra, Louis figured that he was potentially facing two more days of having his peace disturbed and his belongings soaked. He had heard that this island was popular among the yachting community, on account of the secluded beaches that the island was famous for. He pictured himself relaxing, undisturbed in a far-flung, quiet bay, only the distant buzz of insects and the rush of the shore to distract him. He resolved to find out if there was a way to get there.
The port was home to just three restaurants and a handful of familiar tourist shops, all selling the same postcards, fridge magnets, and that evil eye pendant he saw everywhere. As he walked past, he mused that he’d probably take one back for Claire.
In much the same way, there was a frustrating homogeneity to the restaurants, the menus all displaying photos of the same greek salads, gyros, meatballs and sausage. Louis chose the one that had a few people already seated. It was no guarantee of great food, but his travels had taught him never to trust an empty restaurant. He sat at a table overlooking the marina. The onshore breeze and rhythmic clink of masts made for a pleasant ambience. Louis found himself starting to relax.
The waiter approached his table. Louis greeted him with “Kalimera” even though it wasn’t morning anymore and he had no more Greek to follow it up with. He liked to make a bit of effort with the language. He ordered a Greek salad and a Mythos, and closed the transaction with a hesitant “Efharisto”, unsure of his pronunciation. The waiter smiled, more out of politeness than appreciation and took away his menu. Louis stared out at the port and noticed a sign by one of the boats, advertising private hire boat trips. Maybe this was just the thing he was looking for.
He finished his salad, mopping up the remaining oil with the last of his bread, like the good northern boy he was, and drained his Mythos. He wandered across the road to where he’d seen the sign for the boat trip. An arrow pointed to a ticket booth at the far side of the port, in which sat an attractive forty-something woman, well made up and smiling.
There were two options, she explained. The first was a boat trip round the island, stopping at one of the beaches, with lunch provided on the boat. This wasn’t for him, he decided. The idea of being stuck on a boat all day, surrounded by people was almost as bad as being by the pool. The second was a trip to a secluded island, only accessible by water. The woman explained that guests were left for the day to enjoy the unspoiled beach and swim in the clear waters and then collected at six in the evening to be brought back to port. Lunch would be a self-catered affair in the form of sandwiches and salads, alongside cold drinks, with the option of fresh fish to barbeque yourself. She explained that the beach had a small fisherman’s hut, powered by a generator.
“Sounds perfect,” he said, but a thought hit him. The prospect of being trapped on a secluded beach with the Marcus family or some other noisy progeny was a risk he couldn’t take.
“So tell me, do you allow children on these trips?” he said.
“No sir, you cannot bring children on this trip, these beaches are very rocky in parts and we do not stay with you, so if there are accidents, we cannot help”, she replied.
”Oh no, I don't have children, it’s just me,” Louis clarified and watched as a knowing smile flashed across her face. This was surely a woman who needed a quiet retreat as much as he did.
“Great, can I book that please. Do you have spaces for tomorrow?”
“Yes, we have space, there’s just one other person booked. That’s 50 euros for one person, how would you like to pay?”
*****************
Louis woke up early the next morning. He felt a little excited about the day ahead. He’d woken up early because he’d fallen asleep at 9:30 the night before, having drifted off watching The Crown on his laptop. As idyllic as the island was by day, there was precious little for a single man to amuse himself with in the evening. He’d lost the battle with his hunger at 7:30, practically the middle of the afternoon by Greek standards, and ate dinner alone at the same place he’d eaten lunch. Was he really the same boy who had travelled between warzones reporting for Reuters? There’s a time and a place for adventure, he’d laughed to himself as he‘d taken his now “regular” table.
He’d stopped at a bar on his way back to the hotel. He hadn’t planned it. He wound up through the steep cobbles of the narrow lane, enjoying the warmth radiating from the stone houses. Pink bougainvillaea hung prettily against the white backdrop. He noticed a bar nestled amongst the houses with fairy lights strung around the guttering. The lights glowed in the twilight and music drifted out through the open windows, calling him in off the street like a siren song. From the doorway, he could see through to the blue waters beyond, as though the bar had been carved into the rocks, large glass doors waving him through to a cliff-top terrace. It was small and inviting inside. The low chatter from the three tables created enough of a buzz to make for a pleasant atmosphere.
Louis took a seat at the bar. He scanned the bottles lining the backlit shelves looking for inspiration. His eye was drawn to a bottle of Metaxa and flashes came to mind recalling a lost night on the island of Mykonos a few years earlier. Admittedly “recalled” was an ambitious description of a memory that amounted to a blurred mess of loud music, laughter and shots, and had culminated in a murderous hangover the next morning.
The barman emerged from the terrace, placing his empty tray onto the bar and positioning himself in front of Louis.
“Kalispera.”
“Hi…err, Kalispera, can I get a Metaxa, please”
“Sure, you want 5 stars or 7 stars?” the barman asked, pointing to the two bottles on display. Fuzzy memories of the Metaxa star system twitched in his brain. Louis vaguely recalled it being something to do with the number of years it was aged.
“7 stars? Is that better than 5?” he asked.
“Some people think better, I think just different,” the barman shrugged, “for me, 7 has a smoother, richer taste, but it depends”.
Always happy to take the advice of a barman, Louis nodded.
“Okay, I’ll try the 7 please”
“Ice?”
“Please.”
The man poured Louis’ drink and picked up a beermat from behind the bar, setting the drink down. He returned moments later with a small plate, Louis’ drinks bill clamped in place. Louis’s eye was drawn to the tattoos on his forearms, just visible under his rolled up shirt sleeves. He could make out a dragon with some writing beneath.
“Nice tattoo.”
“Oh thank you, this one was my first. You like tattoos, yes?” the man replied, gesturing to Louis’ exposed arms.
“Haha yeah, bit of a giveaway,” Louis laughed, catching the man’s gaze flicking over his arms and back up to meet his eyes. Louis’ laughter subsided into a shy smile. It all happened in a second, but Louis clocked a flash of recognition between them that spoke of more than a passing interest. The spell was broken by a man approaching the bar to return his table’s empty glasses. Louis let his eyes fall down to his drink and took a sip. The warm, honeyed liquid slid smoothly down his throat and brought some respite from the brief moment of tension.
The barman resumed his duties; clearing away glasses and wiping down the bar, before walking out onto the terrace. Sensing that their interaction had concluded, Louis took out his phone and opened his messages. He glanced over a text from his sister, asking how the holiday was going and a few work meeting invites that he wouldn’t even think about until he got back. He checked the weather for the next day. The early summer weather in Greece could be unpredictable, even this far south. He smiled to himself seeing that the forecast was 27 degrees and sunny.
The barman returned and began opening a bottle of wine. While his back was turned, Louis took the opportunity to have a better look at him. He reckoned they were around the same age, early thirties. The man was taller than Louis and well built. His skin was a pleasant olive tone, lightly tanned from the early summer sun. He wasn’t Louis’ usual type, but he was certainly attractive.
The look that they’d exchanged caused Louis to wonder about the man’s home life. Louis had noticed a ring mark on his wedding finger when he’d handed over the drink. He thought maybe he was separated, but then his tired expression spoke of long working hours and family commitments.
Louis drained the rest of his drink, slipped off his bar stool and reached into his pocket for his wallet.
“You are leaving?”
Louis looked up to see he had the barman’s attention once again.
“Yeah, gonna head back to the hotel.”
The barman looked unsure for a second. He leaned his forearms onto the bar, very close to where Louis’ own hands were resting. He lowered his head and looked up at Louis, pursing his lips in a thoughtful fashion. He hesitated and then spoke, his tone barely above a whisper.
“I thought maybe we would have a drink together,” he said, a playful smile flickering across his face.
“Drinking on the job, hey, is that allowed?” Louis replied, matching his playfulness.
“No, I mean later. When it’s quiet, I close up around 12. Maybe you come back?” he said.
Louis was tempted. He hadn’t had physical contact with a man since he and Michael had split up, as well as a good deal of time before that. In the seconds that passed, Louis weighed up what was on offer. He quite liked the idea of a flirtatious drink and wondered whether it might end up in an illicit handjob in the back room.
“Sounds nice,” Louis said, tilting his head to one side, “but I can't tonight. I have this day trip booked tomorrow. I'll be in the sun all day. I need my beauty sleep,” he replied softly.
“Sure, okay” the barman shrugged, retreating in acknowledgment of the knock back, adding, “I don’t think you need beauty sleep, you know”.
Louis huffed out a laugh at the compliment.
“How about I come by tomorrow, when I get back from the trip?” Louis replied.
“Sure, I am here tomorrow. My name is Andreas,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Andreas? I’m Louis.”
Louis shook his hand, holding his eye contact for a second too long.
"Good night, Louis, have fun on your trip. See you tomorrow, I hope."
"Yeah, good night Andreas.”
They exchanged smiles and Louis left, feeling lighter than when he’d entered.
*******************
Louis rolled over to check the time on his phone. It was 6:45. Breakfast wasn’t served until 8am. He wanted a coffee, but not enough to settle for the Nescafe granules by the hotel kettle. As he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he thought back to his encounter with Andreas the night before and wondered whether he should have gone back for that drink and whatever came next. He groaned to himself in frustration.
Louis missed sex. Sex with Michael had been good, but in moments like these Louis thought back to Aaron. They’d known each for years but they only started seeing each other when Louis moved down to London. Aaron was a BDSM enthusiast and had introduced Louis to the scene during their brief time together. Aaron was a sub and Louis discovered he fell easily into the dominant role. He loved the feeling of total charge, dispensing harsh reprimands and soft reassurances to his helpless and eager boy.
Louis suspected early on that there was little between them beyond sex, a notion, which was confirmed when Aaron announced one night that he had a new boyfriend. Apparently, it hadn’t been a thing after all and shortly afterwards, Louis had met Michael.
Michael was a skillful and attentive lover but his tastes were less sophisticated than Aaron’s. One night, after dinner, when Louis and Michael were sitting together relaxing on the sofa, Louis decided to broach the subject.
“You know that mate of yours that you were telling me about the other day?” Louis began, recalling a conversion they’d had a few days earlier.
“Mate? Which one?” Michael responded, not taking his eyes off the television.
“The one you said went to that sex club?”
“Yeah?” Michael responded, now looking at Louis with interest. “Is this your way of telling me you want to go a sex club?”
“No!…God no. Jesus, can you imagine?” Louis shuddered. “I was just thinking, maybe we could try something?”
“Oh yeah, like what?” Michael said, eyebrow raised, his body now completely focussed on Louis.
“Nothing weird, just some role play. Like...could I dom you?”
“Dom me? Do you want to spank me and tie me up and shit?”
“Don’t tempt me,” Louis laughed. “No, not like that, more just take control and have you do what I say. We’ll have safe words and all that, I won’t try to make you do anything you don’t want to.”
“Yeah okay…I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it, but we can try it, if you want to.” Michael replied, rubbing his thumb soothingly over Louis' shoulder. “What brought this on?”
They‘d never discussed sex with previous partners before, save from sharing the odd embarrassing incident. Michael had told him the story of when he’d accidentally nicked some guy’s foreskin with a ragged thumbnail during a hand job, only to discover they’d recreated a scene from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre when they’d switched on the lights. Michael had recounted the incident through tented fingers, barely able to maintain eye contact with a delighted Louis, who was collapsed on the floor laughing and wincing at the gory image.
“Dunno,” Louis shrugged, not wanting to bring up Aaron, “was just thinking about it.”
It had started off well enough, with Michael undressing and coming to rest on his knees obediently, awaiting further instructions. Louis stood in front of him. He cupped Michael’s jaw and made gentle thumb strokes across his cheek.
“You know I can’t tolerate this kind of behaviour Michael,” he began. “I gave you very clear instructions to be home by 6 tonight. Remind me what time you actually got home.”
“I think it was quarter past,” Michael replied.
“Sir…you will address me as Sir, do you understand?” Louis reprimanded.
“Yes Sir, sorry…Sir”
Louis smiled, his cock hardening at the sight of his boyfriend’s submission.
“I don’t like to be disobeyed, Michael, do you understand that?”
Michael nodded.
“I asked you a question…do you understand the effect that your disobedience has on me?”
“I understand.”
Louis frowned and tightened his hold on Michael’s jaw, his thumb pushing roughly against his jaw bone, forcing his head upwards.
“Sir! I understand Sir!”.
“That's better. So would you like to make it up to me?” Louis said.
“Errr…yes sir,” Michael responded.
The room was too quiet.
Louis pulled Michael’s head towards the crotch of his jeans and proceeded to circle his hips into his face.
“Mmm…that feels nice. Getting me nice and hard, baby.”
Louis was lost in the sensation of the coarse fabric rubbing against his cock. He released his grip on his boyfriend’s head and started undoing the button on his jeans and lowering his zip, Michael’s eyes fixated on his movements.
“Mmmm, that’s a good boy,” he said, reaching into his boxers to get his cock out.
“Okay, now open your mouth, I like my cock nice and wet, can you do that for me?”
As Louis reached down to guide Michael’s head into position, Michael suddenly raised his hand.
“Hang on a minute, Lou..I’m gonna sneeze” he said, tilting his head upwards, mouth open, poised..
….nothing came.
“For fuck’s sake, Michael!”
“Nah, it's gone. Sorry, carry on.”
Louis glared down at him, his dom character echoing his real frustration.
“I’m sorry, I can't help it if I need to sneeze. Come on, where were we? I’ve been a bad boy and you want me to suck your cock.” Michael said, matter of factly.
“Okay, let’s just get on with it." Louis tried to swallow his impatience and proceeded to stroke his cock back to hardness. Louis guided Michael’s head back to his dick and fed it to him slowly.
“Mmm, that’s good, your mouth feels so wet baby, Mmm, yeah, just like that,” Louis said. He tightened his grip on Michael’s head and starting to fuck into his mouth. Louis jerked his hips slowly at first, then with increasing fervour, causing Michael to splutter and pull back.
”Jesus Lou…not so hard…you nearly fucking choked me.”
“It’s got to be a bit hard babe, I’m meant to be dominating you. I’m sorry, okay? You’re supposed to tap my leg if it's too much. You okay?”
“Yeah I’m fine, you just took me by surprise. Can we do something else? Why don’t you fuck me.”
“Okay, get on the bed on all fours,” Louis said, trying to regain his authority. He fetched the lube from the bedside table. Squeezing some onto his fingers, Louis started circling his hole, before sliding his fingers in. He crooked his fingers and circled against Michael’s prostate, twisting his wrist until he started to feel Michael relax around him.
“Getting you nice and loose for me baby, ready for my cock,” Louis said.
Silence
“You gonna let me fuck you nice and hard, how I like it, yeah?” Louis said again.
Silence
“Michael!”
“Sorry Lou, I don't know what to say…err yeah, give it to me! Give it to me…hard.”
Louis stilled, the awkwardness hanging heavy in the room. He slipped a third finger into Michael and twisted them around until he felt loose around his fingers. Grabbing a few tugs on his own cock, he moved to spread Michael’s cheeks apart and line himself up.
“Okay baby, deep breaths, just relax for me, time to make me feel good.” Louis said as he gripped Michael’s hips and pushed in. He groaned as he felt the tight heat of his boyfriend’s arse around his cock.
“Fuck, that’s good…are you okay? Can I move?”
“Mmmm, yeah it’s good.”
With that Louis started rolling his hips, fucking in slowly.
“Maybe I'm being too good to you, giving you my dick,” said Louis, tightening his grip on Michael’s arse cheeks as he snapped his hips.
“You’re taking me so well baby. Making me feel so good.”
Silence
“You wanna make me come baby, you gonna make me come hard and fill you up?”
Silence
“Michael!”
“Err..Yeah? I wanna make you come…hard…up my arse…Jesus Lou, I can’t do this. I don’t know what to say.”
Michael collapsed onto the bed, causing Louis to pull out abruptly.
“Babe, can we just have normal sex please, without all the talking? I’m sorry, I’m just no good at it, I feel stupid,” Michael said, sounding defeated.
“Yeah of course, it’s fine…it doesn’t matter.” Louis edged himself off the bed and grabbed a towel.
“Come on, shall we finish off?” asked Michael.
They both looked down at Louis’ flaccid dick.
“I think the moment’s passed. I’m gonna go and have a shower,” Louis sighed, and walked into the ensuite.
“Lou!”
“Michael, it’s fine, I’ll be out in a minute, yeah.”
“Lou, I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine, just leave it. It was a stupid idea.”
It wasn’t fine. Louis was shaking. He was caught somewhere between embarrassment and frustration. “Fuck!” he muttered to himself. Once in the shower, he let the steaming water batter his skin and reached down for his cock.
*********************
As much as Louis was the dom, it was Aaron who would dream up scenarios to play out. His favourite scenes were ones where he had to be punished for breaking a minor domestic rule. The more insignificant the better. Sometimes, he’d put the toilet roll on the wrong way round, with the end facing the wall, other times he’d put the knives blade-up in the dishwasher. The greater the disparity between the seriousness of the crime and the magnitude of the punishment, the better. His favourite punishment was being whipped and he had gone so far as to mount hooks in his home office/dungeon, which he liked to be hung from.
Laying in his hotel bed, Louis was already hard. He rolled onto his front and pressed his hips deep into the mattress. The friction made him moan. He rolled and ground his hips as memories of sweaty, unrestrained nights with Aaron blurred into fantasies of a nameless head pushed down into the pillow as Louis pounded his arse angrily.
Lost in the sensation, the slow grind of his hips turned into frantic rutting. The sound of skin slapping, faster and faster replayed in his head. Louis grabbed the sweat-soaked pillow beneath him and reached down into his boxers for his cock. He fucked into his hand, jerking uncontrollably against the bedsheets. “Fuck!” he whined as he felt his orgasm approach and flipped quickly onto his back, his hand still clasping his desperate cock. His fist was a blur, frantically stripping his dick. He was so close now. He felt his stomach tense as he arched up off the pillow. He took a few more frenzied tugs, until finally, he grunted long and low, cum spilling over his fist.
He flopped back and blindly grabbed for the tissue box at the side of the bed. He lay on the bed, mouth open and waited for his breathing to return to normal. “Fuck, fuck”, he panted softly to himself. “Fuck.” Since when was he such a horny teenager, he mused. He wiped idly at the mess on his stomach and drifted back to sleep.
Louis awoke with a start from his orgasm-induced nap. The morning sun streamed through the thin net curtains. He checked his phone and saw that it was ten to eight. Perfect he thought, his stomach grumbling in agreement. He threw back the covers and headed for the shower. Louis sighed as the steaming water washed over his skin. Feeling refreshed and clean, he dried himself off with a towel and headed back into the room.
Opening the door to the wardrobe, he flicked through the few clothes he’d brought with him. He picked out plain, white shorts and a white t-shirt with a setting sun motif. He got dressed, opting to wear trainers for the boat trip and packed his sliders into his bag for the beach. He recalled that the woman who’d sold him the ticket had advised him to take a jacket as she said they sometimes got strong winds on that side of the island.
He grabbed a hoodie and trackie bottoms and stuffed them into his rucksack. He rifled through his toiletries. He picked out a cologne sample for freshening up later, figuring he’d swing by Andreas’ bar on the way back to the hotel. With that he headed down to breakfast.