by Ashley John
He glanced over at Charlie who was glaring coldly at him from the corner of his sparkling green eyes, which glistened in the sunlight. He could have stared into those eyes all day. As usual, Charlie's eyes dropped from his and joined Poppy in gazing aimlessly through the window. Charlie hovered on a poster in the window that read in big bold letters 'STAFF WANTED'.
“You don't want to work here,” Oliver said, “the owner has wandering hands. Unless, you like that sort of thing?”
“What's your problem?” Charlie sneered quietly, not wanting Poppy to hear.
“How long have you got?” Oliver winked.
“For you?” Charlie shot back, dropping his eyes down his body, and back up to his face, “I have no time for you.”
Fuck, look me up and down again.
“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Oliver whispered back, noticing how pink and soft Charlie's lips looked.
“I don't know what your game is, but I'm not gay” Charlie whispered even quieter.
“Me neither,” Oliver smiled, “I love pussy, I just love cock too. I love everybody.”
Charlie took a small step back from the window. Oliver could tell he was uncomfortable with talking about sex, and he liked that.
“Yeah well, that's not my game. I'm not into guys.”
“That's fine,” Oliver whispered softly, “that's never stopped me before.”
“I've got a girlfriend, so back off,” Charlie mumbled.
“Back in Alaska?” Oliver sneered, “How's that working out for you?”
Oliver knew he'd pushed him too far. Charlie grabbed Poppy's hand and tried dragging her away from the window, but she wasn't budging.
“I want the pink one!” she cried, digging her heels into the sidewalk.
“We can't afford, c'mon Poppy,” Charlie growled, trying to pull her away from the window, but she was clearly heavier than she looked.
Calm down Charlie boy.
“Mom's gonna be wondering where we've gone,” he said through gritted teeth, pulling harder on her arm.
With a sulk on her face, Poppy tore away from Charlie, and without looking ran straight across the road towards the diner.
“Poppy! What have I told you about crossing the road?” Charlie cried after her.
It's a good job this town is full of retired people who drive slower than they fuck.
Charlie gave Oliver one last glare before jogging out into the road to join his sister.
“The Surf Club,” Oliver called after him, “they're hiring down at the surf club. Ask for Porter.”
Charlie stopped in the middle of the road and for a second, it looked like he was going to turn back, but he dropped his head, and carried on. As Oliver watched Charlie's perfectly round cheeks shift from side to side, he stuffed his hands down into his jeans and tried to discreetly reposition the pulsing through his pocket.
The more Charlie put up a fight, the more Oliver wanted him. Oliver had come across straight guys before who weren't interested, but there was a flicker of something in Charlie's eyes that made Oliver crave the touch of his skin under his fingertips.
There was a flicker of intrigue.
Keep running Charlie, I'll catch you.
***
“How did it go?” Charlie asked nervously as his mother closed the diner door behind herself as he caught up with Poppy.
“I've got the job!” she cried happily, “I start tomorrow!”
“That's great Mom,” Charlie smiled.
Hugging her, he could still feel Oliver's eyes burning into the back of his head. He didn't know if it was just how people were in Surf Bay, but he'd never met anyone so intense and full on before, and it made him feel so uncomfortable.
“Fancy getting ice cream to celebrate?” she smiled at her children.
“Ice cream!” Poppy cried, jumping up and down like a hyperactive child.
“You two go,” Charlie said quietly, “I'm going to go down to the beach. I think there might be a job for me down there.”
As he broke away from his mother and sister, he could see Oliver out of the corner of his eye as he headed in the direction of the beach. He didn't need to turn around to know there would be a smug smirk spread across his face, following him down the street.
Charlie shook his head when the image of Oliver's shirtless body reappeared in his mind and he knew he needed to talk to Melissa.
Outside of the small surf club on the edge of the beach, Charlie took a moment to admire the ocean. It was the first time since he'd arrived in Surf Bay, that he'd got a chance to go down to the beach and properly marvel at its beauty. The hot California sun burned down on his face, as he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the warm sea air. I could get used to this.
With the glistening blue water and the scorching golden sand distracting him, he could almost forget about Oliver.
The Surf Club was a small wooden hut on the edge of the beach that looked more like a shack than a school to learn how to surf. A neon surfboard hung over the wooden entrance and a small sign under it read 'Porter's Exceptional School of Surfing'. Charlie imagined an elderly man in Speedos teaching tourists how to surf badly and he shuddered at the thought.
Glancing up and the down the seafront, he soaked in how stunning the place was. Small groups of people were scattered up and down the front, joining Charlie in admiring the view. Further down the beach, a slightly larger shack sat against the sand, and from the pink neon lobster hanging over the door, Charlie could guess what it sold.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed gently on the wooden door. A small bell rang as he stepped into the brightly lit shack. Charlie was surprised at how deceptively big it looked compared to the outside. Large windows covered every wooden wall, giving him a perfect 360 degrees view of the beach, and a door at the end of the room led out onto a small deck.
“Hello?” Charlie called out, wandering through the small stands filled with surf board wax and tourist souvenirs.
“Just a second,” a deep voice called from the deck outside.
Charlie caught his own reflection in a glass display case and quickly adjusted his hair, making sure he looked like a responsible adult who could do whatever job was on offer. He'd only left high school a few weeks ago, but he knew if he stood any chance of staying in one place for longer than a few months, he'd need to help his mother out.
“How can I help you?” Charlie turned around to see a tanned man in his mid-30s, wearing nothing more than bright yellow knee length swimming shorts – so much for an old man. Sun kissed hair hung damply over his pale blue eyes.
Speak Charlie.
“Hi,” Charlie could feel his voice shaking, “I'm looking for Porter?”
“You've found him,” the man smiled cautiously at the stranger asking for him, “what can I do for you kid?”
“A friend pointed me in your direction. He said you might be hiring?”
The man smiled curiously with his eyes as he walked towards Charlie, but he kept his expression neutral, his bronzed skin rippling in the bright afternoon light.
“I do have something as it happens,” the man smiled, this time showing off his model perfect teeth, standing behind the wooden counter next to the cash register, leaning against the wall behind him, “can you swim?”
“I can.”
“That's a good start then,” he laughed, “you're not from around here are you?”
This really is a small town.
“I've just moved here. I'm staying with my Aunt,” Charlie said.
“Who's she then?” Porter raised an eyebrow suspiciously.
“She's called Evelyn. She lives out on the edge of town.”
The man's eyes lit up. Charlie could tell he knew exactly who Evelyn was, but the look of surprise that quickly spread across his face filled Charlie with intrigue.
“I know her,” he said flatly, “I didn't know she had a nephew.”
“I'm her great nephew. My mother is her niece,” Charlie said.
“Sarah?” O
liver asking, raising his eyebrows further.
“Yeah,” Charlie said, returning the confused look.
“I didn't know she was back in town,” he said casually, “I haven't seen her in years.”
“Like I said, we've only just moved,” Charlie repeated, “so what's this job then?”
Porter's eyes snapped firmly back to reality and he stared at Charlie blankly for a second, as if his mind was somewhere else.
“I'm looking for someone who can give us a hand with the day to day running. It's the start of the season so things should be picking up soon and we usually get somebody to come in and give us a hand. Can you use a cash register?”
“I sure can,” Charlie lied.
“Can you start tomorrow?” he said coolly.
“Seriously?” Charlie exclaimed, almost a little too excitedly.
“No time like the present!” he exclaimed, “We'll need to get you trained up on the surfing basics first, but that shouldn't take too long.”
“In that case, I can start tomorrow,” said Charlie, gripping Porter's hand in a tight shake, “thank you so much.”
“Awesome,” Porter said, smiling warmly at Charlie, “be here at 10am, and bring a towel.”
With that, Charlie hurried through town towards the ice cream parlor, trying to contain the excitement bubbling inside him. He couldn't wait to tell his mother that he had a job and he was going to be able to help out with everything. He knew the job would mean they were less likely to leave Surf Bay, and that's how he wanted to keep it.
Outside of the ice cream parlor, Charlie wiped the fresh sweat from his forehead and peered through the window where he instantly saw his mother and Poppy still eating their ice cream. His mother waved for him to join them, but when Charlie saw Oliver sat across from them, waving smugly at him, he felt his stomach tighten into a giant knot.
***
Oliver watched as Charlie marched angrily over to him sat with Sarah and Poppy
“What's he doing here?” Charlie snapped coldly as he walked towards the table.
Nice to see you too.
“Charlie!” Sarah gasped, sounding slightly surprised at her son's anger, “He came in to get some ice cream and I asked him to join us.”
“Oliver's funny,” Poppy declared before scooping bright blue ice cream into her mouth.
Hear that Charlie, your sister thinks I'm funny.
Trying to disguise the pleasure on his face, Oliver watched as Charlie sat down at the end of the table and folded his arms. You've really got the whole moody teenager thing down to a fine art.
“How did it go then?” Sarah asked.
Charlie's eyes flickered from her and then to Oliver and then back to his mother.
“I got the job,” he said casually, “I start tomorrow.”
“Well, that's good isn't it?” she asked.
Charlie looked uncomfortable, but Oliver knew exactly what the problem was. It was his tip off that got him the job. You don't have to thank me yet Charlie boy.
“Yeh, it's good,” Charlie said.
He was staring at Poppy's ice cream bowl, but Oliver could tell it was so that he didn't have to look at him.
Standing up, Oliver slid his chair under the table, “thanks for the ice cream Sarah. It was delicious.”
“It's no problem,” she smiled back, “we enjoyed your company.”
Oliver could feel Charlie's eyes glaring at him from underneath his frowning brow, but it only made him smirk more.
“See you tomorrow Charlie,” Oliver said, walking past him, gently resting his hand on his shoulder.
“Tomorrow?” he spun around, and when Oliver saw the look of confusion on his face it was all worth it.
Jackpot.
“Did I forget to mention?” Oliver smirked, “I work at the Surf Club too.”
Charlie's expression dropped and his mouth slowly parted, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't make a sound.
I think we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other Charlie boy.
Chapter 4
Outside of the Surf Club Charlie clutched his bag tightly and peered at his watch.
9:50am.
He'd spent most of the night drifting in and out of a restless sleep trying to figure out why Oliver was creeping into his mind so much. Every time he closed his eyes, his face would appear with a sly smile and dark eyes, which only made Charlie toss and turn even more. He didn't know how to feel about his new job at the Surf Club. He wanted to feel happy that he had a way of earning some money, but he couldn't let himself shake away the anger he felt towards Oliver. He could try and act all sweet and friendly, but Charlie could see right through it.
Clutching his bag even tighter, he told himself that he wasn't going to let Oliver get to him and he'd just find another job. Taking one last deep breath of the California air, he confidently pushed open the door and strode into the Surf Club, but any confidence he felt quickly melted away.
“Charlie! Nice to see you here bright and early,” Porter smiled, walking over and slapping Charlie gently on the back.
Porter was already half in his wetsuit, but it was rolled around his waist leaving his buff chest and broad shoulders on display. Charlie didn't want his eyes to linger, but seeing Porter only made him feel insecure about his not so muscly frame.
“There's someone I want you to meet,” Porter smiled, “Oliver, come out here and meet our new recruit.”
When the tropical print curtain to a small cubicle in the corner of the shack ripped back, and Oliver appeared, wearing nothing more than a pair of tiny, red Speedos Charlie resisted the urge to throw in the towel and leave while he still had a chance.
Slowly, Oliver swaggered over to Charlie with the wicked smile on his face growing with each step. Charlie could tell he was enjoying every second of making him feel uncomfortable. His bulky upper half contrasted against his lean and slim legs, which he moved lightly and gracefully reminding Charlie of a dancer. He didn't seem to have a hair on his body, as each muscle in his fatless legs tensed and contracted, he could see the rather large package beneath the red trunks shifting from side to side.
Just as Charlie felt himself being mesmerized by the impressively large bulge, he tore his eyes away and glanced back to Porter.
“Nice to see you again Charlie,” Oliver said quietly as he stood next to Porter and folded his arms.
“You know each other?” Porter asked raising an eyebrow under his blonde, shaggy hair.
“I was the one who tipped him off about the job,” he said smugly.
He always looks so pleased with himself.
“Brilliant. This all just got a lot easier,” Porter laughed, not noticing how uneasy and quiet Charlie was being, “I want you two to go into town and hand out some leaflets to tourists. It's still going to be quiet, but the earlier we can get folks through our door, the better!”
He hurried behind the counter and pulled out a huge pile of colorful leaflets along with a gray and blue wetsuit.
“Charlie can you put this on?” he said, throwing the wetsuit to Charlie, “It might be a little small, but you should be able to get into it.”
Charlie examined the wetsuit wondering how small Porter thought he was under his clothes. Glancing over at Oliver, he prayed that he wouldn't be going out in just his tiny, tight trunks.
I don't think I could bare a day of him admiring himself.
***
“How do you know this guy then?” Porter asked suspiciously to Oliver, “I thought he'd only just moved here.”
“I help out with Evelyn's garden every now and then. I met him the other day,” Oliver said casually.
“You have that look in your eyes Oliver,” Porter said in a low whisper, “that look scares me.”
Oliver knew exactly what look he was talking about. It was the look of hunger.
“I don't,” Oliver rolled his eyes, glancing over to the tiny cubicle in the corner.
He could see Charlie moving behind th
e floral curtain and imagined him stripping down to his underwear.
“Just be careful okay. I don't even think he's gay you know,” Porter leaned against the counter and folded his arms.
“When has that ever stopped me?” Oliver laughed, “Don't you think he's cute though?”
Oliver instantly knew the answer. Porter was the type of guy who went for secure, manly types. Despite being well into his 30s, he still looked and acted like the teenage surfer he was when he was Oliver's age. Porter's relationship with a local police officer, Michael, was a secret to most, except Oliver.
“He's not my type,” Porter shrugged his shoulders.
Good, because he's mine.
Oliver's ears pricked up when he heard a frustrated grunt come from behind the rustling curtain.
“I think our new recruit might need some help,” Oliver whispered cheekily.
“Be nice. I don't want you scaring him off like the last one.”
“I might have scared the last one off, but at least I got what I wanted from him,” Oliver mumbled to himself.
***
Dumping his towel in the cubicle, he quickly started to strip out of his clothes in front of the long mirror on the tiny wall. Charlie was slim built and he had some definition, it was just nowhere near as impressive as his two new co-workers. He tried to tense his arms and chest in the mirror, jealously thinking about the way Oliver looked. He knew they were about the same age, but he had no idea how he'd managed to get so ripped, so young.
“Don't forget to take your underwear off,” Oliver called from the other side of the curtain, “you'll be able to see them through the wetsuit.”
Tearing himself away from the mirror, he spun around to check the curtain was still closed as he dropped his white y-fronts to his ankles. The curtain fluttered in the breeze, revealing two large gaps at either side, making Charlie instantly cup his junk with both of his hands. Peering under the bottom of the curtain, he could see the back of Oliver's smooth calves, which only made Charlie feel even more nervous.
Charlie picked the tiny wetsuit up with one hand, still maintaining his modesty with the other. As he fumbled with the slippery material, he found the zip and slid it roughly down with his teeth.
