Chapter Text
Aaron was seventeen, and his parents had been in politics for as long as Aaron could remember. His father was the respected public face of the pair, electable and charming, and his mother the brilliant campaign manager behind the scenes. While Aaron’s father had been a very successful New Jersey state senator for years, their most recent campaign, this time the Democratic primary for the 1989 New Jersey governor's race, had ended in a loss. It was an unexpected loss, and, having intended to spend the summer campaigning for the general election, for once the Burr’s were left without a packed itinerary.
It was Aaron’s mother’s idea, like most of the ideas in the family, to spend the summer in the Caribbean. A family friend, one of the many friends political families like the Burr’s cultivated, owned a house on some small island that Aaron had never heard of before. The family that owned it typically used it to escape the cold of winter, and it was therefore free for all of the summer. Before Aaron quite knew what was happening, he had been whisked away from his friends, with only two suitcases (one of clothes, one of mostly books) to accompany him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what a blow it was for the family to lose this election. He’d been learning how to smile for a crowd, and flatter a donor since he was a child, but he was also seventeen. It was the summer before his senior year of high school, and although he’d expected to be be involved in the summer campaigning, he’d also expected some time to spend with his friends, and to see if Chelle from the choir really was interested in him, or if that was just the generous interpretation of said friends.
Instead, he finds himself on an island, and not even a big one. The first full day after arriving, he and his parents take a tour of the island and it is depressingly small, especially when he’s faced with spending the rest of the summer here. His parents seem charmed, determined to escape the rush of their typical lives.
For the next two days, Aaron tries to embrace their attitude, enjoying the ocean and the sun. But two days is enough for him to feel like he’s reached his limit. He’s never been much of an outdoor person, and there’s just so much sun. How much entertainment can be derived from sleeping in the heat like basking reptiles? More for his parents than him, that much is clear.
For the next two days after that, Aaron spends most of his days in his room, reading the books he’s brought. He’s content enough, although he can’t help but worry about running out of reading material before the end of summer, but his mother is not so distracted by the soporific sun as to allow her only child to become a hermit.
On the sixth day of what is going to be an interminable summer, after the shared family lunch, she gives him his marching orders. The orders are fairly broad: go out, meet some people his own age, explore the island a little, have a new experience, learn something - just no sitting in his room pretending he’s at home.
There’s no space for argument when his mother makes up her mind, so Aaron puts on a pair of sunglasses and heads out into the blindingly bright day. He’s at a bit of a loss, but wanders aimlessly towards the town, not sure how he’s supposed to find people his own age, much less ingratiate himself.
Before he’s gone far at all, he hears the sounds of someone running across the sand behind him. When he turns around to look, somehow, it’s a girl his own age, jogging up to him. The girl holds out a hand, and says in a slow southern accent, “Hi there. You’re staying at the Grayville house?”
Rueful acknowledgement that Aaron should never doubt his mother’s power to mold the universe to her will fights with interest as he shakes the girl’s hand, “Yes. I’m Aaron.”
She smiles, a slight flush on her pretty, freckled cheeks, “Oh, I’m Denise. I just saw you there, and I thought maybe you might be, I don’t know, bored or looking for something to do.”
He smiles his most charming smile, and she flushes a bit more, “You’ve got me exactly.”
She looks a bit relieved, “Oh good. Or not- I mean, I’m glad I’m not bothering you.” Then, with a bit of bravado, she takes his arm and steps toward town, “Let me show you where we hang out. There’s a group of us, bored, tourist teens.”
Her long curly hair is brushing his arm, and Aaron follows willingly, “Where are you staying?”
She looks over at him, “Oh! I’m your neighbor, just one more house back.” She gestures back the way they came.
“Good to know.”
On the short walk to wherever she’s leading him, they establish that she’s going into her junior year at a private school in the Atlanta area, and that her family is here for another week “A whole three weeks total,” she says with a touch of despair. She sighs sympathetically when Aaron confesses his family’s plans to be here just over two months .
She ends up taking him to what he can only describe as a rundown shack. He supposes in the past it was some sort of boathouse, but now it’s a weathered and barely holding together collection of wood, on the edge of some untamed trees and bushes. If it were anyone other than this smiling, friendly girl leading him there he might think he was on his way to be murdered. Even her smile might not have been convincing if it wasn’t so bright out.
However, inside is a couple of other teens, looking no more murderous than your average teen. A boy Aaron’s age, blond and withdrawn, introduces himself as Spencer. There’s a girl Denise’s age, who assess Aaron with sharp eyes and introduces herself as Lindsay.
Aaron has achieved his goal of meeting people his age, but it rapidly becomes apparent that it’s only a partial solution to his boredom. They’re all quick to acknowledge that there isn’t much to do on the island. From what Aaron can pick up from the conversation, days are pretty much filled with the same swimming, reading, or sunbathing that he could get at the vacation house. The difference is the conversation, which Aaron supposes will improve once he knows the players well enough to follow the gossip. Learning about each other takes up part of the afternoon, especially when a sister and a brother (Lisa and Daniel) show up a bit later. He’s also assured that if he comes back in the evening, he’ll meet some of the local teens, most of whom work during the day.
From what Aaron can gather, the evenings are when the real fun begins. There’s a group interest in whether he can procure any alcohol or at least some cassettes with good music. He hedges, not wanting to commit to anything before he has a chance to observe an evening himself. Finally around dinner time, after securing his promise to return in the evening, Denise guides him home, still holding on to his arm.
If drinking and romantic entanglements are the main forms of entertainment, Denise is already making her interest in Aaron clear. Aaron has no problem with that, spending the trip back to the vacation house walking close enough that their sides brush, and admiring the deep color of her eyes, and soft curve of her smile. She squeezes his hand when they part by his house, promising to see him later.
The lingering sensation of her hand in his leaves him anticipating the evening. His parents seem to believe that his curfew also is on vacation, and they seem pleased to learn that he’s made friends, so there’s no problem getting away. They appear generally unconcerned about what he could get up to on this small island, although his mother sees him off with the casual reminder, “Don’t drown, and don’t get anyone pregnant.”
Denise meets Aaron at the end of the walk stretching out from the vacation house. She’s changed her shorts for a skirt, and her t-shirt for a something with a bit lower neckline, which Aaron tries not to let his eyes get caught on. He tells her she looks nice, and she graces him with one of her soft smiles, freckles lost in the dim of the evening. It’s dark enough that she has a flashlight with her, but when they get to the shack someone has built a fire. There’s a handful of new people there, two girls that Aaron thinks might be sisters, one about his age, and one who looks quite young, and a boy, probably Aaron’s age, with dark hair and a sly smile.
It’s not that much different from the afternoon at first, people sitting around talking, but the dark and the flickering firelight makes everything seem more exciting, a feeling that is only heightened by the bottle of rum that is being passed around. After awhile, when everyone is pleasantly buzzed, someone turns up the boombox, switching out the cassette from the soft music that’s been playing for something danceable.
Denise pulls Aaron up to dance, and he tries to keep up with her, despite the rum and the soft sand underfoot, blunting his coordination. It’s fun, a bit breathless, and it gives them an excuse to touch. Sparks run up Aaron’s spine every time she brushes against him, and he tries to return the favor with careful hands on her waist and back.
Most of his attention is on Denise, but he sees the way that Lisa and the new, younger girl, Mira, have retreated outside of the circle of dancing, laughing with each other under the watchful eye of their older siblings who are dancing together. Lindsay and Spencer are also dancing together, although he looks bored and she looks annoyed. Alexander, the boy with the sly smile, is the odd man out, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. First, he cuts in on Lindsay and Spencer, which would probably have worked if his attention wasn’t on Spencer, who rebuffs him in no uncertain terms. Frankly Aaron is worried for a moment, distracted from Denise and afraid for Alexander, but Alexander just laughs and Spencer turns back to Lindsay. Aaron relaxes and refocuses on Denise, it must have been a joke.
Aaron is lost in the scent of Denise’s hair, and doesn’t quite notice when Alexander joins them. Alexander doesn’t try to cut in this time, instead he slides up behind Denise, and by the time Aaron notices, the three of them are dancing together, more or less. Denise doesn’t seem to mind, her expression as she looks at Aaron is sparkling and flushed, and Aaron goes along with it, smiling back at her.
Noting Aaron’s acceptance, Denise grins, and twists in his arms so she’s facing Alexander. Aaron leans into her shoulder, feeling the skin bared by the wide neckline of her shirt brushing against his cheek, and watches the two of them. Aaron has an arm around Denise’s waist, and she has her arms over Alexander’s shoulders, and the three of them sway together. It’s fine, but then someone is running a gentle hand along the inside of Aaron’s wrist, where it’s pressed against Denise’s waist, and it can’t be Denise. Aaron’s eyes meet Alexander’s in shock, and it’s like he’s trapped there for a long moment, the three of them stuck in a stretch of time that’s slow and and sweet, like dripping honey. Alexander looks mysterious in the flickering light of the fire, the sly smirk absent for the moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. Another hand slides just under the edge of Aaron’s shirt, touching his back lightly and Aaron’s breath catches with it, caught between the sensations of Denise’s hair tickling his face and Alexander’s fingers brushing his back.
But then the moment passes, Alexander moves on before someone else notices that he was touching anyone other than Denise. The next thing Aaron knows, Alexander’s dancing with Lindsay, and more than dancing, they’re making out, deep, familiar and purposeful. It feels like maybe Aaron imagined Alexander’s touch and he pushes it from his mind. Another indeterminate stretch of time passes, and then Alexander and Lindsay have disappeared together, and then a bit later still the party is breaking up.
Aaron and Denise are the only ones who head back in the direction of their houses, and they walk slowly, bumping into each other, half alcohol and half just an excuse to touch. Aaron feels giddy with both. Not quite halfway back, Denise stops Aaron on an empty stretch of sand. They’re out in the open, but there’s no one around, and, aside from the moon and stars, it’s dark. She kisses him and he kisses back eagerly, too hazy with drink and lust to care where they are. They end up making out laying in the sand, not quite willing to go any further here in the open, no matter how dark, but enjoying each other’s kisses. Eventually they part and lay there catching their breath. They admire the stars, more than you could ever see in any city, until they’re ready to face sneaking back into their respective houses.
Luckily Aaron’s parents are asleep, so he doesn’t have to describe his night, or pretend to be sober.
He drifts to sleep right away, but an unknown amount of time later he wakes from a series of dreams about Denise’s soft curves and hard kisses, mixed with Alexander’s smirk and warm hands. Aaron is achingly hard, and it only takes a few strokes before he’s coming with a groan that he muffles in his pillow. He quickly drifts back to sleep, leaving the confusing dreams behind in the night.
#
Denise and Aaron spend the next week having aimless conversations that are more about all the subtle ways they can brush up against each other while talking than the supposed topic, and the nights doing whatever they can on the dark of the beach.
The others in the group have their own dramas, with Lindsay going back and forth between trying to attract Spencer and hooking up with Alexander. No one seems very serious about anyone else though, even Aaron would have to admit that as much as he likes Denise they never really talk about anything meaningful, and he has no real expectations. When Spencer finally sees Lindsay’s appeal, and Alexander is again a third wheel, it doesn’t really surprise Aaron that Denise spends nearly as much time casually flirting with Alexander as she does making out with Aaron.
When Denise leaves at the end of the week Aaron is sad to see her go, but neither of them pretend that they’ll keep in touch.
A new girl, Sasha, joins the group the day after Denise leaves, but she quickly gets taken in by Alexander’s charm and the week she spends on the island is mostly with him. Aaron is left to observe the various hookups, with no real desire to pursue anyone. It’s a little bit like watching a soap opera, and that’s its own entertainment.
When Sasha leaves, there’s an imbalance in the group, too many guys and not enough older girls, and the drama is more in the gossip than the actual hookups. The first night of this new alignment is a bit dull and Aaron excuses himself earlier than usual, his books looking like the more appealing option.
He’s just far enough from the party for the light of the fire to have faded in the distance when he hears someone running up behind him, and turns with a sense of deja vu. Of course this time it’s not Denise, she’s gone back to Atlanta, but in the dark, lit only by Aaron’s flashlight, it takes him a minute to place Alexander.
“What’s up?” Aaron asks, pointing the flashlight at the ground.
Alexander laughs, awkward, “Uh,”
Aaron waits, patient, but confused.
Alexander huffs another small laugh. Then he moves closer to Aaron, and slowly places a hand on Aaron’s shoulder.
Aaron freezes for a moment, shocked.
Alexander cautiously moves his hand along Aaron’s shoulder, until his thumb is just over the collar of Aaron’s shirt, just barely in contact with Aaron’s bare skin.
The sensation of Alexander’s touch makes Aaron shiver, but he can’t. Alexander might be just as attractive as Denise, but where a summer fling with Denise could be meaningless fun, it’s not so simple to casually hook up with a guy. Not with Aaron’s family in the public spotlight, and anyway who knows what the law is here on this island. Without saying anything, Aaron steps back, out from Alexander’s touch. Let Alexander wait for the next girl to roll into town.
Alexander drops his arm, and says in his soft accent, “Right. I’m sorry.”
Aaron wraps one arm around himself, still loosely holding the flashlight in the other, “It’s fine.”
“Goodnight then,” Alexander says, and turns back, leaving Aaron to walk slowly home, trying not to feel like he’s let fear ruin what could have been a good night.
#
The next night Alexander spends the evening trying to win Lindsey away from Spencer, and when Aaron leaves the gathering early he does so without interruption.
Spencer and Lindsay are both gone home within the next week, replaced by another handful of teens and dramas. Aaron remains contented to stay out of the fray except for the occasional dance and a stolen kiss here or there from Luna, the older sister of the two local sisters. By the beginning of Aaron’s fourth week on the island he’s realized that most people stay for a week, maybe two, and his family’s two and a half months is something strange. It leaves him feeling oddly detached from the people he meets, and he starts to understand Alexander and Luna’s casual attitude, and perhaps even more the other teens who live on the island, but chose to have nothing to do with the tourists in their off hours.
At the open of Aaron’s second month on the island there’s a lull in people Aaron’s age, most of the families visiting now have small children. To avoid worrying his mother though, Aaron just takes his books to the shack. It’s pretty comfortable reading in the shade of it, and the view of the ocean is beautiful, if familiar at this point. His evenings are free again.
By the second afternoon of this new arrangement Aaron’s getting a little bored - apparently two days is his limit for solitude. Although he’s deep into his book, right in the middle of a theoretically gripping murderous coup, he can’t focus. Instead, he’s watching the gulls wheel above the water, the book lying closed on his knee, his finger wedged between the pages to mark his spot.
He’s achieved a sort of zen non-thought, starting to tilt slightly towards drowsy, when a shadow falls over him, pulling him back to reality with a start. It’s Alexander, who smiles down at Aaron and then settles against the wall next to him, “Hello.”
Aaron greets Alexander in return, studying him out of the corner of his eye. Aaron’s never really seen Alexander in the light of day. He’s still lovely, but it’s apparent that his clothes are worn in a way that sets him apart from the tourists. Aaron’s only ever seen Alexander on the prowl, but now he’s just sort of there, looking out on the water, and without the smirk he seems softer.
Finally Alexander says, “I had some time and thought I’d come by and see if there would be people around tonight.”
Aaron shrugs, “It’s just me as far as I know.”
Alexander nods, and then tilts his head to read the spine of Aaron’s book, which is a thick history of Rome. He seems interested, “Do you like history?”
Aaron answers, “Yes, I like to know how we got where we are. To maybe avoid making the same mistakes. You?”
“Oh yes,” Alexander is animated suddenly in a way that’s very different from his lazy seduction at the nighttime gatherings. “I love to learn about all the different ways people live, have lived, the different possibilities,” he glances at the water again, and something wistful in his gaze makes Aaron wonder if he’s ever left this island. Alexander laughs a little, seemingly embarrassed by his own enthusiasm, “I like history, but novels too. Books in general.”
Aaron doesn’t find anything embarrassing about an interest in books. After weeks of conversations mostly consisting of gossip about people he barely knows, and two days of solitude, he can’t think of much that would be more interesting than a good conversation about literature, “Tell me your favorite book. Or maybe that’s too hard? Your favorite book right now.”
Alexander’s favorite book is one that Aaron had read, and not much enjoyed, but Alexander defends it so passionately that Aaron finds himself wanting to reread it so that he can understand it like Alexander did. They have a spirited debate on the merit of that book, and then Aaron’s favorite, and then jump around debating anything they’ve both read until suddenly Aaron realizes the sun is starting to set, and dinner must be long past.
The conversation has pulled Aaron from the torpor of sunlight that has been most of his past month, and even as he hastily gathers himself to go make his apologies to his parents for missing dinner, he stops to say, “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow? We’ve barely started on fiction.”
Alexander smiles at him, not the smirk that Aaron has admittedly occasionally fantasized about, but a small genuine smile, and says, “Maybe so.”
#
They do meet the next day, and the day after that. Aaron quickly realizes that Alexander isn’t just smart, he’s brilliant. The connections he makes, the way he seems to remember everything he’s ever read, and the careful arguments he seems to be able to make up on the fly are amazing. He’s also quite well read, although there are some odd gaps in his knowledge.
On the third day they are deep in an argument about a book that neither of them ever thoroughly read, unable to settle it, when Aaron says, “Oh come on, I know we have a copy back at the house.” He’s already three steps gone, mentally constructing his next argument, when he realizes that Alexander didn’t follow him, and turns back.
Alexander’s hovering in the shadow of the shack, “You want me to go to your house?” He looks unsure, an expression Aaron’s never seen on his face before.
Aaron doesn’t think it suits him, “Sure, come on. You can show me how right you are.”
Alexander still looks unsure, but he does follow Aaron. Once in the house, Alexander looks around carefully, and Aaron suddenly understands his hesitance. Alexander does look out of place in the house, the expensive decor makes Alexander’s frayed clothes seem all the more shabby. It seems ridiculous to Aaron that it should be so though, what is expensive furniture to a mind like that?
Aaron tries to distract Alexander from his discomfort by grabbing the book and leading Alexander back to his bedroom. Away from the more grandiose features of the house, which Aaron had never given much thought to until he sees the way that Alexander’s eyes catch on the polished wooden bannisters, and the heavy light fixtures.
Alexander doesn’t initially seem any more comfortable in Aaron’s room, but once Aaron hands him the book and manages to reignite the debate, Alexander seems to forget his discomfort in his rush to make his points.
After they’ve settled the issues as far as either of them are willing to concede, Alexander’s gaze wanders around the room. His eyes are drawn to the bookshelf which has the books Aaron has brought with him from home, “Can I look?”
“Of course,” Aaron says, and watches as Alexander peruses the small collection.
Alexander runs through the books, a small comment here and there, and then pauses on a well worn paperback of The Grapes of Wrath , “Ah, this one I’ve always meant to read. It’s supposed to be a good snapshot of the great depression in America, right?”
“Yeah. It’s a good book too.”
Alexander touches the spine, before going on, but Aaron abruptly stands. “Here.” He strides over and pulls the book off the shelf, “Take it.”
Alexander moves back from the outstretched book, “Oh no, I couldn’t.”
Aaron rolls his eyes, “Of course you can. Read it. I want to know what you think.”
Alexander hesitates, “I could borrow-”
Aaron shakes his head, takes the book back to the desk that Alexander had been sitting at, and finds a pen. On the inside cover of the book he writes, ‘To Alexander, From Aaron, Summer 1989.’
He gently blows on the page to dry the ink and then hands it to Alexander, “Now you have to take it.”
Alexander glares, but takes the book with a reverence that belies the frown. He opens to the inside cover and reads it, lingering before he finally says, “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Aaron says, and then is suddenly struck by the need to be a good host, “Do you want any snacks? A drink?”
Alexander looks taken aback, “No, I’m fine.”
Aaron can’t quite shake the feeling that he’s falling down as a host though, so he fetches them both a glass of water and then sets Alexander off so Aaron can hear his thoughts on Shakespeare. Aaron listens, content as Alexander launches into a discussion of Lear with almost no input from Aaron.
Eventually Aaron’s dad pokes his head in the room, “I thought I heard voices.”
Aaron introduces them. Alexander looks pale and nervous and calls Aaron’s dad sir, but Aaron’s dad accepts him as if Aaron brings home locals everyday, “Will you be staying for dinner?”
Alexander demurs, and then makes his excuses as if he needs to be home right now. Aaron doesn’t try to make Alexander stay, but only pauses his flight for a moment, with a hand on his arm, “Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Alexander fidgets, “I have work in the morning.”
Aaron nods, “What time are you free?”
Alexander studies him, although what he’s trying to see Aaron couldn’t say. Finally Alexander says, “Maybe three?”
“Okay, I’ll see you then.”
Alexander nods, and then flees.
#
The next day, Alexander seems more settled. Aaron doesn’t bring up going to the house again, until three days later when a storm interrupts their lazy discussion of economics. The shack has a roof in theory, but it’s not up to the task of the downpour that’s currently falling, and Alexander barely protests when Aaron declares for the house. He follows Aaron, both of them laughing as they run through the deluge. They’re soaked by the time they reach the house, and Aaron suspects that perhaps staying in the shack would have been the more logical choice, but the sight of Alexander flushed with the run and with laughter, water dripping from his hair, and clothes clinging, makes it difficult to regret the decision. Anyway, at the house they can dry off. Aaron’s parents are there in the family room, but they only laugh indulgently at Aaron and Alexander, and Aaron whisks Alexander off to his room before Alexander can get too awkward.
Aaron hands Alexander some dry clothes and a towel and points him to the bathroom, so he can change in private. Aaron initially gets distracted from changing his own clothes by the realization that his bedroom windows are open, shutting them against the wind that’s blowing the rain inside before worrying about his clothes. He’s just pulling on the dry shirt when some sound makes him turn back to the door, where Alexander is standing, a bundle of damp clothes in his hand. Alexander’s eyes are clearly focused on where Aaron’s chest is bare, and when Aaron’s shirt falls belatedly into place, Alexander’s gaze jumps to Aaron’s face with guilty speed.
He seems to realize that he’s been caught, and flushes, eyes darting away from Aaron all together. Aaron clears his throat and politely pretends not to notice, taking the damp clothes together with his own to the laundry room to dry, leaving Alexander behind to gather himself.
As Aaron loads the dryer carefully and deliberately, trying to keep his hands steady, he considers. He had begun to believe that he imagined Alexander’s earlier advances, hidden as they were in alcohol and darkness. Alexander had seemed so clearly uninterested since they actually started talking that Aaron had thought maybe he had made something of innocent touches, his own strange desires driving him to imagine something that wasn’t there. But there was no mistaking that look, or the reaction to getting caught. And perhaps that was the why. Aaron had rejected him once and for all Alexander knew Aaron’s rejection wasn’t caution on his part, but pure disinterest. Why would Alexander pursue a one sided attraction, when Aaron had been polite enough to let it go when most wouldn’t?
But the real question was, what did Aaron want to do? In theory he’d made his mind up about this long ago, with one step backward in the dark. But that was before he’d known Alexander. It was one thing to risk himself for a fling with a seemingly smug, albeit handsome playboy, and quite another to risk for Alexander , the smartest person Aaron had ever met. For someone who challenged Aaron in ways that most people couldn’t, and yet somehow found the humility to feel awkward in the trappings of wealth. A person who felt no compunctions about trying to tear down Aaron’s beliefs, but carefully called Aaron’s parents, “sir” and “ma’am.” For him Aaron might risk quite a lot, even just for a moment of his time.
When Aaron returns to his room, Alexander has composed himself. Whatever unwanted desire, or shame had slipped out was tucked neatly away behind a mask that’s so convincing that Aaron could almost begin to doubt himself again. But, the mask flickers just slightly when, unlike Alexander’s last visit, Aaron closes the door behind him. It’s a small expression, too quick for Aaron to even say what emotion it is, and Aaron surely would have missed it if he wasn’t watching Alexander so closely.
Unable to stand the idea that what is being hidden might be fear, Aaron walks straight up to where Alexander is sitting on the edge of the bed. Without saying anything, he gently places a hand on Alexander’s shoulder, and then slides it up just enough let his thumb brush Alexander’s neck, where he can feel the quick thrum of Alexander’s pulse.
It’s a deliberate echo of Alexander’s advance weeks ago on a dark beach, Aaron trying to say, ‘I’ve been thinking about you’, ‘I want you’, and ‘please’ all at once. Alexander breathes in sharply, the mask falling away to reveal something like wonder and hope.
It’s enough of a yes, that Aaron leans in for a kiss. He moves slowly and deliberately, allowing Alexander every chance to back away, but Alexander doesn’t, his dark eyes fixed on Aaron’s. The kiss itself is soft at first, warm and gentle.
Then Alexander opens his mouth under Aaron’s and pushes up toward him, turning it from warm to hot in an instant. It’s the kind of sensation that could sweep a person away, and all Aaron wants to do it get closer to Alexander, to feel as much of him as possible. However, the knowledge that Aaron’s parents are only a few rooms away, and have no compunction about dropping into his room leads Aaron to pull back after only a few desperate moments, during which they’ve tumbled back into the bed, “My parents.”
Alexander looks gratifyingly fuzzy for a minute, that sharp mind blunted by a haze of lust, but then scrambles out from under Aaron, “Would they just…”
“Yes,” Aaron says, grimly.
Alexander pales, and then sets to righting himself, wiping his mouth, smoothing his hair, and straightening his clothes, “This will have to wait then.”
He seems firm, and, given his caution around Aaron’s parents generally, it’s hardly a surprise. Anyway, Aaron is all for caution, he’s not sure how his parents would take such a thing, best just not to find out. He reaches out for Alexander though, “But, uh, some other time?”
Alexander’s gaze softens, and with a cautious look at the shut door, he darts in for a quick kiss, “Yes.”
Aaron smiles at him, and after straightening his own clothes goes out for snacks, and leaves the door open upon his return. When Aaron’s mother drops in twenty minutes later, Aaron and Alexander are laughing over Aaron’s recap of a film he saw last year, a good two feet in between them.
#
Finding that other time to be together turns into the challenge of the next few days. At first they try the shack, but after two glorious days exploring each other in the dim heat of the afternoons, on the third day they arrive to find Mira, Luna and a new crop of tourists, a whole gaggle of cousins together on a family trip. This does reopen the possibilities of night time parties, although without Spencer’s boombox they’ve lost some of the rhythm that made those earlier parties fun. Also, there is the issue of the interrelatedness of most of people there, which reduces the romantic possibilities and, worse, leaves Aaron and Alexander both highly in demand. It’s difficult to sneak away together, although with some determination they manage it.
The moon is on the cusp of fullness, and the nights seem too bright. Neither of them can quite relax, and as such they never make it much past furtive kisses. Frustrating days of only catching a few moments alone, with no hope of true privacy, pass. Finally, one night, Alexander pauses their midnight kisses and props himself over Aaron. He’s lit by the moon and Aaron is at first too distracted to realize that he’s asked something, “What?”
Alexander’s not meeting Aaron’s eyes now, “I said, maybe tomorrow you could come over to my house in the afternoon. My mother will be at work until evening.”
He’s never discussed it in detail, but Aaron knows it’s just Alexander and his mother, has always been just the two of them. It’s a logical solution, but Aaron’s not so oblivious that he hasn’t noticed that Alexander has been avoiding bringing Aaron into his everyday life. For instance, Aaron knows Alexander works in the mornings, but not where. He’s never said much about his home, and this invitation feels more significant than the implicit sexual offer, somehow more personal. Aaron kisses him softly on the cheek, “I’d like that.”
Alexander turns, transforming the gentle gesture into an open mouthed kiss, but it doesn’t escape Aaron’s notice that he looks pleased.
#
They meet on the edge of town the next day, avoiding places where they might run into the hoard of cousins. Alexander leads Aaron back to his home without speaking. It’s Aaron’s turn to feel out of place, as Alexander leads him into a part of the town that is clearly not meant for the tourists to see. Some children playing in the street seem to glare suspiciously at Aaron as if they can tell he doesn’t belong, and Aaron tries not to stare as the houses get smaller and more rundown.
Alexander’s house is very small, one story and square. It seems to have once been painted a bright yellow, but the paint is now faded and peeling. Alexander gives him a tour, stubbornly refusing to meet Aaron’s eyes. There’s a small living room, a smaller kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms. The whole thing could probably fit into the family room in the vacation house, and it feels overstuffed with shabby furniture.
Alexander’s room is as small as the rest of it, most of the space taken up by the twin bed and a chest of drawers, but along the walls, on top of the drawers, under the bed, wherever there’s space, Alexander has stacks of books. Aaron is fascinated by this glimpse into what’s made Alexander. They seem to be sorted roughly, one set of stacks is history, another science, deep in the corner are an eclectic collection of cheap paperback novels, thrillers and romances, that momentarily puzzle Aaron until he realizes that these are exactly the sort of books to be left behind by beach reading tourists. Most intriguing is a stack of cheap notebooks, clearly filled, almost certainly by Alexander, but Aaron avoids these, presuming the contents to be private, and instead kneels by the history books reading the spines.
Aaron’s genuinely interested to see what Alexander deems worthy of collection, and manages to be surprised by the feeling of Alexander’s hand on his shoulder, “Did I bring you here to judge my book collection?”
Aaron leans back to smile up at Alexander, “It’s a bonus.”
Alexander smiles back fondly, and then bends for a kiss. Suddenly all thoughts of literature leave Aaron’s mind as he leans up into the kiss, and reaches to pull Alexander further down. It’s an awkward angle, and eventually Alexander straightens, moving to the bed “Come on.”
Aaron can do nothing but follow, plastering himself on top of Alexander, and enjoying the freedom to lose himself in this moment without fear of interruption.
They fall into a familiar pattern of kisses, until Alexander starts to shift restlessly under Aaron, pulling at his shirt, “Take this off.”
Aaron complies willingly, and reaches for Alexander’s too, helping him lift it over his head. The feeling of skin on skin makes Aaron gasp into Alexander’s mouth. He wants to be closer still and when Alexander reaches for the waistband of his pants and asks, “Can I?” Aaron wastes no time in pulling off his shorts and his underpants.
Alexander rolls them, so that he’s straddling Aaron and admires the view. He runs a hand over Aaron’s chest and down to his hip, stopping tauntingly right there. Aaron feels like he’ll never be able to catch his breath again, like he needs twice as much air as human lungs can hold. He runs his hands down Alexander’s back, and tugs at Alexander’s shorts. Alexander smirks, complies, and then settles back over Aaron.
He seems to plan on teasing Aaron more, but Aaron can’t stand it, and flips them again, pressing himself all along Alexander, finally completely together. Alexander opens his mouth to say something teasing, but Aaron grinds a thigh into Alexander’s cock and Alexander groans instead, hands clutching Aaron’s arms, as Aaron slides against him.
Aaron is torn between wanting to kiss Alexander, to get as close as possible in every way, and wanting to watch Alexander’s face. Alexander is so expressive, and the more turned on he becomes the less control he seems to have over what he shows. “What do you want?” Aaron asks, turning the choice over to Alexander.
Alexander leans up for a kiss and then falls back to the pillow panting, “Can I- Your hand- Can-”
Aaron stops the stumbling by reaching down and grasping Alexander’s dick. He strokes experimentally, trying to find the speed and pressure that Alexander likes. Alexander reaches down and wraps his hand around Aaron’s, demonstrating for a few strokes, before his hand falls away.
He’s already close, and Aaron’s never seen anything quite as hot as the way Alexander is moving under Aaron, his expression turned inward, and his breath coming in short gasps, until finally with a choked moan he comes, arching up into Aaron in a way that makes Aaron feel desperate and heated. Aaron leans down and kisses Alexander through the aftershocks, and Alexander’s uncoordinated, jerky attempts to kiss back only push Aaron closer to the edge, until he’s thrusting into Alexander’s hip. Alexander’s hands are on Aaron’s back, and lips on Aaron’s neck, urging him on. Aaron buries his face in Alexander’s shoulder and comes with a muffled groan.
He stays there, blanketing Alexander, until the world stops spinning, and he realizes there isn’t a lot of oxygen in his current position. He turns so he’s able to breathe, but remains pressed into Alexander’s side. There isn’t a lot of room on the bed, but Aaron feels no immediate inclination to move and Alexander also seems content, so they just lay together, lazy in the afternoon heat.
#
And with that, the shape of the rest of Aaron’s summer takes place. More often than not he meets Alexander at his house after Alexander finishes his shift. It turns out that Alexander works at a local bakery, and spends his mornings turning out fresh bread and pastries that go the local hotels and markets. Aaron isn’t really sure how Alexander does it, he seems to subsist on no sleep at all, but suggestions that he take a nap are met with frowns and distractions so Aaron gives up.
During these afternoons they learn each other in a way that Aaron has never known another person.
They learn each other physically, and Aaron starts to run out of firsts to experience. He feels like he knows Alexander’s body better than his own at this point. He knows all the spots that drive Alexander wild and he knows all the touches that soothe Alexander to sleep afterward. They start to develop a complete language of kisses. Kisses that say anything from, “hello,” to “harder.”
But they also learn each other mentally, emotionally. Aaron gradually learns Alexander’s life story, his wishes, his dreams, and his insecurities. Despite the intelligence that continues to astound Aaron, Alexander worries that he’ll never make it off the island, that he’ll be one of the many people here who spend their adult lives trying to make tourists happy. Aaron tells him again and again that it will never happen, that Alexander can’t be so bright, so talented, so handsome for nothing. Alexander blushes, but seems to find it some comfort, “Well if you say so it must be so,” he inevitably says, sarcasm but not, before changing the topic.
Aaron even meets Alexander’s mother. She’s very like Alexander in many ways, clearly sharing more than just a last name. She’s beautiful for a start, she looks startlingly young to have a son Alexander’s age. Like Alexander she has long dark hair, and large dark eyes. Her smile is sweet, in the way that Alexander’s can be, although unlike his mother, Alexander saves this sweetness for private moments.
Unlike Alexander, she’s quiet, speaking only as much as needed in her thickly accented voice. Around her, Alexander’s accent is thick too. The first time Aaron hears it he realizes with some shock that the accent Alexander uses with the tourists - with Aaron, is a carefully practiced thing, designed to reflect their own sounds back at them and signal as much as possible, ‘I’m one of you.’ It’s another one of Alexander’s masks, and Aaron forces the shock away, holding instead to the knowledge that Alexander has let him see behind it.
Alexander hasn’t told his mother that he’s anything other than friends with Aaron, and she never suggests otherwise, but Aaron wonders sometimes if she knows anyway. She watches Aaron with a quiet intelligence, and he can see the love in her face when she looks at Alexander, and Aaron’s not sure that she can’t see the same when he looks at her son.
And Aaron does love Alexander. Aaron’s never been in love before, and he used to wonder how people could know, how people seemed so sure, but he doesn’t wonder anymore. Alexander shines so brightly, his quick mind, his smiles both soft and sharp, his humor, all of these have become central to Aaron’s life. Being around him makes Aaron’s heart ache with happiness and longing, but Aaron doesn’t bring it up. There’s no point, because in two weeks Aaron’s going back to the U.S. and Alexander is stuck here, on this island, where even a phone call is an impossible expense.
Aaron knows with a bone deep certainty that at some point Alexander will break free of this place, but that’s no guarantee that it will be near Aaron. The world is big place, full of openings for someone as talented as Alexander. Beyond that, Aaron would only hold Alexander back. A secret summer fling with a man is one thing, a long term anything is just waiting to be discovered, to ruin Alexander’s career before it even starts. Maybe someday people won’t care, but Aaron can’t quite imagine it.
Alexander doesn’t say anything of feelings either, and it could simply mean that he hasn’t fallen in love, but sometimes Aaron catches Alexander watching him in a way that makes Aaron wonder. There’s also the fact that Alexander is spending every free moment with Aaron, when at the beginning of the summer he had shared his affections quite equally and widely. And he introduced Aaron to his mother, showed Aaron his home, even let Aaron read select portions of some of the notebooks, which it turns out are filled writing of all sorts, some personal, some academic. Love or not, Aaron believes Alexander cares for him, but it still doesn’t matter in the face of reality.
#
The last ten days of the trip are bittersweet. Sweet because they spend most of their time together, and bitter because the shadow of their impending separation grows darker every day. Every kiss, conversation, and shared laugh seems to bring them closer to the end, as if they only have a limited number of each. Without discussing it, they pretend that there is no deadline, trying to act as casually as they did at the beginning of the summer. It’s a pretense that has limited success, the shadow of goodbye casting a chill on the warmth of their time together.
On the third to last day the pretense abruptly falls away. They’re in Alexander’s bed, wrapped around each other in the lingering glow of orgasm. Eventually, Aaron starts to move away.
“No,” Alexander says, and pulls Aaron in tighter.
Aaron pauses, puzzled, but wraps his arms back around Alexander whose face is hidden in Aaron’s chest, “Okay.”
Alexander doesn’t respond, but, attention now focused on him, Aaron slowly realizes that Alexander’s breath is uneven, not because of the recent orgasm, but because he’s trying not to cry. Aaron helplessly holds Alexander tighter, rubbing a hand up and down his back.
The acknowledgement, or perhaps just the embarrassment of getting caught, only seems to make it worse for Alexander, and Aaron feels a hot tear or two hit his chest. Aaron’s throat feels tight with his own regret. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, “I wish it wasn’t like this.”
Eventually Alexander’s breath evens out, and he emerges, not looking at Aaron as he uses his t-shirt to wipe the tears from his face. His eyes are still too bright when he finally does look at Aaron, “I’m going to miss you.”
It’s the first direct acknowledgement either of them has made to their parting since two weeks ago, when Aaron got the final schedule from his mother, and it tears at Aaron’s heart. He reaches up and with his thumb gently swipes away some of the wetness that lingers under Alexander’s eye, “I’m going to miss you too.”
Alexander nods slightly, trying to smile for Aaron. That weak, quavery little smile, that attempt to comfort Aaron, even in the midst of his own upset is too much for Aaron. The thing he’s been trying to hold in for the last couple of weeks tumbles out, “I love you.”
Alexander’s breath catches, and another tear threatens to drop, but he doesn’t look away from Aaron, “I love you too.” It’s only a whisper, as if he doesn’t trust his voice, but this time his smile is genuine, the sweet smile that Aaron only gets to see when they’re alone.
Aaron smiles back, and the moment hangs between them, as if the world has stopped for a moment and nothing can touch them, but in the end none of their confessions can do anything to slow the passage of time.
Two days later, they make their final goodbyes. Aaron is leaving early the next morning and neither of them want their last goodbye to be in front his parents, so instead they do it here, in the sanctuary of Alexander’s small bedroom. Aaron gives Alexander all the books he’s brought that Alexander doesn’t already have, and assures Alexander again that he’s going to be a success. That he’ll go far from this island and, “I’ll hear about you someday and I’ll say, I knew him when.”
Alexander doesn’t argue like he normally would, just says, “I’m glad I met you.”
And then with one final, lingering kiss, and then an even more lingering hug, that’s it. Aaron doesn’t look back, because if he does he might turn back and never turn around.
His parents seem ready to get back into the thick of their lives. In the morning when they leave Aaron’s mother sighs, “It was nice, but I miss being in the loop” and his father agrees. Aaron doesn’t say anything.
#
Being back at school is a good distraction for Aaron, and it is good to see his friends again. He misses Alexander fiercely at first, and then what Aaron has to suppose is a regular amount after that. He expects he’ll stop missing Alexander all together at some point, but can’t quite picture it yet, a small ache still following him everywhere. Straight through graduation Aaron finds himself wishing he could tell Alexander the new things he’s learned, imagining the debates they might have, and missing Alexander’s kisses.
Aaron had wanted to exchange addresses, to exchange letters, but Alexander had said no. He said he couldn’t stand to see the letters dwindle away, and Aaron agreed, even though now, after nearly a year, Aaron still feels like he could fill letter after letter. Aaron hadn’t wanted to leave Alexander without any way of contacting him though, so in the end he’d written his address and phone number in the books he’d left behind, with a note to write or call if Alexander ever needed anything. Alexander could get himself off the island, Aaron was sure, but there was no harm in Aaron offering whatever help he could. Alexander must not need anything, because he never writes or phones.
#
Senior year has been a flurry of college applications for Aaron, and regrouping for their next electoral campaign for his parents. It’s been stressful, and Aaron’s mother insists on another family vacation this summer, before Aaron goes off to college. “Shorter this time,” she insists with a smile. Aaron agrees, not paying much attention to the planning of it, too distracted by figuring out dorm choices at Princeton, and worrying about roommates.
He’s suddenly paying attention when his mother casually mentions that they’re going back to the island, “That’s all right, isn’t it, Aaron? You seemed to like it there.”
He nods, mouth dry. A chance to see Alexander? Even if Alexander has moved on, they could still have a good conversation, couldn’t they? And if Alexander wanted more, well Aaron would never say no to getting to hold him one more time.
The small ache that’s settled in Aaron’s heart ever since the end of the summer suddenly makes itself fully known, and Aaron has to admit to himself, if never anyone else, that he’s missed Alexander this whole time. That despite the distance and the time, despite his attempts to focus on school, on college, on his friends, he still loves Alexander.
Aaron tries to remind himself that it’s been a year, that Alexander has no doubt moved on, and they are both different people now. He loves the memory of who Alexander was, and Alexander loved the Aaron of a year ago, and it’s best not to assume that will carry forward.
Aaron tells himself many such reasonable things, but he can’t help the excitement he feels thrumming under his skin as they arrive at the island. They’re only here for a week and a half, the most his parents felt they could eke out of their schedule. They get in late the first night, but Aaron pushes off the exhaustion of travel and takes a flashlight to walk down to the shack. Maybe Alexander will be there.
Aaron can see long before he gets there that no one is at the shack tonight, no fire lighting up the night, no music carrying on the breeze. Even so he walks the rest of the way, out of nostalgia perhaps. But when he gets there, the shack is gone. Or rather, it’s not gone, it’s there, but time has finally worn it down and it’s collapsed on the ground. It’s clearly been down for some time, drifts of sand covering some of the boards.
It’s ridiculous, but somehow it looks frightening in the dark, lit only by Aaron’s flashlight. A shiver runs up Aaron’s spine, and turns his stomach, and he quickly turns back to the house. Once away from the dark shape of it, Aaron scoffs at himself, laughing quietly at how he’s allowed his overtired mind to get the better of him.
#
Aaron sleeps in the next day, partially because if Alexander is still working at the bakery there’s no point in showing up early, and partially still tired from the trip.
His lunch sits poorly in his stomach on the walk to Alexander’s house, nerves and anticipation fighting with one another. It is a bit strange to just show up at someone’s house unannounced after so long, but Aaron hardly has any other choice, no way of letting Alexander know in advance. Maybe Alexander won’t be pleased to see him, but to Aaron the chance is well worth that risk.
Aaron is more nervous than ever when he knocks at the familiar door, but he forces his chin up, and doesn’t hide behind his sunglasses. However, he quickly becomes confused when an older woman he doesn’t recognize answers his knock. She seems just as confused as he is, but he presses on, “Um, hello.”
“Hello,” she answers, and her accent is thick and unlike the typical island accent. He can’t quite place it.
He smiles, hoping to smooth over the confusion, “Uh, I’m sorry to bother you, I’m looking for Alexander Faucette?”
She shakes her head, looking confused and he tries again, “Uh, his mother, Rachel Faucette?”
No response, “They lived here last summer?”
Suddenly she looks like maybe she understands something, she gestures for him to wait and then leans into the house to talk to someone else in whatever language accents her English. For a second, Aaron thinks it must be Alexander, but then a man, also older, comes to the door. He shares the woman’s accent, but clearly speaks more English, “You look for mother and son?”
“Yes,” Aaron says, feeling like he’s reached some firmer ground, “They used to live here.”
The woman says something to the man, who nods, and then says, “Very sad.”
That firmer ground has dropped away, “Sad, I don’t-”
The woman is saying something further to the man, she’s looking at Aaron with something like pity. The man holds up a hand to halt the flow of her words, “Yes, sad. They both get the fever, and” here he makes a gesture that Aaron can’t interpret, “No money for medicine.” He shakes his head, “Such a shame.”
Aaron feels blank, “But-”
The woman reaches past the man to pat Aaron’s shoulder, and says haltingly, “Sorry. Nice boy, nice mother.”
Aaron can’t quite catch his breath, but he has to confirm, “You’re saying they both died?”
The man looks sympathetic, but nods. “Is pity. Too young, but no money.”
Aaron feels blank, “I see. Thank you for telling me.”
Aaron arrives back in his room without quite knowing how. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, trying to understand. Alexander is dead. Alexander, the most alive person Aaron knows, is dead. And how long? Aaron realizes that the couple never said when . How long has Alexander been dead and Aaron living his life without knowing it? How long while Aaron worried about nonsense, got the chance to go to Princeton? Everything lurches around Aaron, and he just makes it to the toilet when his lunch comes rushing back up.
When his stomach settles, Aaron goes back to bed. Safely under the covers he stares at nothing, unable to cry, unable to sleep, unable to stop shaking. His mind turns in circles going over every memory of their short time together, the conversations they had, and the kisses they shared. The expression on Alexander’s face when he told Aaron he loved him.
Those thoughts leave Aaron aching, but worse yet his mind also turns to trying to imagine Alexander’s last moments. “The fever,” the man had said. That could mean anything. And Alexander’s mother too? Did she die first? Did Alexander know she had died? Did he know he was dying? Was he in pain?
“No money for medicine,” the man had said. Does that mean if Aaron had been here, he could have saved them? Could have used some of the money that has made his life easy, the money that he hardly thinks about, to have prevented this unthinkable thing? If the world was fair, Alexander and his mother would be fine and this stupid house would have one less set of expensive dishes.
Worst of all, are the thoughts of what Alexander would have been. All that intelligence, all that drive, all that charisma lost. Aaron imagines Alexander attending college, writing books of his own, charming people left and right. All the things he would never get to do, all the things that he should have been able to do. The world was going to miss out on so many ideas without Alexander.
Aaron’s mother comes in around dinner time, worried, and he claims an upset stomach. It’s no lie, he can’t imagine eating right now. She tuts over him and brings him a cup of broth, and a sleeve of crackers of which he manages to swallow one and a half.
Night falls and still he can’t escape the thoughts in his head, staring dry-eyed at the ceiling, stomach roiling, until around four when he starts to wonder what happened to Alexander’s book collection. All those carefully scrounged books, the books Aaron had given him, and the notebooks filled with promise. The idea that someone probably threw them all in the trash is what breaks through Aaron’s shock. He smothers his sobs with a pillow, not wanting to answer any questions.
#
For the rest of the trip, Aaron pretends to be sick, and spends most of his time in bed, and then eventually carefully acclimating to the world outside of his bedroom. He barely leaves the house, not feeling strong enough to go to any of the places he spent time with Alexander.
Slowly Aaron re-creates himself into someone that can live in this new, emptier world. A new Aaron, with his naive, innocent assumptions about the world burned away in the fire of his grief.
Alexander was always afraid that he’d never get off the island, that he’d never have the chance to show the world what he could do, and old Aaron had been sure that was wrong. Aaron with his comfortable life, had been sure that all of Alexander’s gifts were enough to lead to success. And now Aaron realizes how easy an assumption that was for him, with his adequate health care, wealthy parents, and nearly endless options. It wasn’t always easy being black in America, but Aaron himself had never run across any true barriers, and his family had been moving up and up in society for all of Aaron’s life. Somehow, despite the lessons his parents had tried to impart, Aaron had started to think that having the will and talent mattered more than the structure of society. That anyone could just pull themselves up. That was what Alexander had never lost sight of. He’d known that sometimes it doesn’t matter how smart you are, how hard you work, or how golden your words. If you can’t get the education you need to expand your mind, if you end up pregnant without recourse, if you die of preventable illness, none of that matters.
Aaron had thought Alexander was the smartest person he had ever met, but now Aaron starts to wonder how many other Alexander’s there are, their brilliance lost without access to the resources they need to shine, or dead before their time.
All of Aaron’s plans rearrange themselves. The relaxed fun he’d planned to have his first year of college, the literature degree he’d imagined earning.Those things are gone. Aaron can see now that it’s his duty, his responsibility to try to take the ease of his own life, and use it to try to make the world a place where everyone has a chance. To follow the example of his parents. For Alexander’s memory, and for all the people out there who still have brilliance to share, Aaron must apply himself to this task.
#
In the week before he leaves for Princeton, Aaron sits down with his parents and explains that he’s considering entering politics as well. His father looks proud at the idea of his son following in his footsteps. Both his parents offer advice drawn from their collective experience. In particular, his mother helps Aaron form a plan, “Just to get started,” she says while charting out his next twenty years or so. Aaron doesn’t laugh, just asks questions and rethinks his course schedule for the coming semester.
After they’ve worked out a rough plan, she sets down her pen. Aaron’s looking at the branching possibilities for 2004, and doesn’t notice her weighing stare, until she reaches out and tilts his face toward her, fingers cool against his jaw, “Are you okay, honey?”
He nods, eyes darting away and then back, “I’m fine, I just… I just want to do what good I can.”
She bites her lip, assessing, but finally chooses to take him at his word, “Okay. I hope you know I’m proud of you.”
He smiles, trying not to think of another mother who would have been proud of her son.