by Ashley John
Letting out a deep sigh, he bravely balanced on one foot, and with his free hand, tried to jam his foot into the material. With all of his force, he pushed his foot trying to send it deeper into the suit, but the strange, rubbery material stuck to every part of his skin.
“Are you okay in there?” Oliver called out.
“Yes!” Charlie snapped.
He could feel his breathing quickly speed up as he attempted to pull his foot from the costume, but it was as if the entire thing was coated in super glue. With both hands, he yanked at the suit, but the more he pulled the less it moved.
Oliver's voice through the curtain only served as a further frustration.
“Need any help in there?” Oliver said in a sickly sweet voice.
“I'm fine,” Charlie cried.
Taking another long deep breath, Charlie stared down at the suit tangled around his foot and as he tried to think of the obvious thing he was missing, the tropical curtain ripped back and Oliver crammed himself into miniature cubicle.
“Oliver!” Charlie gasped, instantly re-cupping himself, “what the hell do you think you're doing?”
“Helping,” Oliver smiled over Charlie's shoulder at him through the mirror.
Charlie could feel Oliver's eyes taking in every bit of his body as they stood almost skin to skin in the cubicle.
“I don't need help,” Charlie gasped, “get out, I'm fucking naked.”
“Oh so what,” Oliver laughed, “do you want to get this thing on or not?”
“I do, but I don't want you anywhere near me as I do it.”
Pressing the front of his body against the cold mirror, he closed his eyes as Oliver dropped to his knees to try and untangle the mess he'd created. Even without looking he could feel his eyes fixed on his exposed backside. As he felt Oliver's fingers brush against his skin, it sent cold shivers running up the back of his legs.
“How did you manage this?” Oliver said, “You’re going to have to turn around.”
Charlie rolled his eyes and awkwardly turned around with the wetsuit still attached to his foot. He nearly let out a gasp when his perky cheeks pressed up against the cold glass of the mirror. With both hands covering his groin, he watched Oliver's hands delicately fumble with the tangled up wetsuit.
“Do you have to touch me so much?” Charlie shot down as Oliver's hand gripped his leg tightly.
“Do you want me to leave it on?”
“Just hurry up!”
“I'm trying!” Oliver growled, still gripping Charlie's legs.
With a satisfying pop, Charlie lost his balance as his foot slid out.
“Got it,” Oliver exclaimed, standing up waving the suit in his face.
If the suit wasn't between them, they would have been completely chest to chest.
“You can leave now.”
“Do you want to get into that mess again?” Oliver whispered.
His eyes were darting around Charlie's face, pinning him against the mirror.
“Can you just show me how to get it on?” Charlie sighed.
“You need to roll the legs right down, place your foot in, and pull the suit up,” Oliver said.
He didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, but everything Oliver said sounded highly sexual.
“Okay, well you can leave me alone now,” Charlie said quickly, trying to ignore the tingling under his hands.
“And let you get into that mess again?” the corners of his mouth curled into a dry smile, before once again dropping to his knees.
This time however, he seemed to make sure his face was directly in front of Charlie's cupped hands, which made Charlie only hold onto his cock even tighter.
“Lift your leg up,” Oliver commanded as he positioned the wetsuit, “I'll hold it open while you put it in.”
“Are those really your choice of words?” Charlie mumbled.
Charlie lifted his leg up, but with his hands occupied, he wobbled on the spot.
“You're going to have to stay still,” Oliver said as he tried to yank the wetsuit up Charlie's shaking leg.
“I'm trying,” Charlie snapped back, trying to regain his balance.
“If you put your hands on the wall, I'm sure you'd have perfect balance,” Oliver smiled up at him as he grabbed his foot.
Charlie nearly laughed out loud before saying, “that's not going to happen.”
This guy isn't going to give up, is he?
***
Oliver was losing his mind. When he finally got Charlie's leg in position, he started to roll the wetsuit up his slightly hairy shin before moving onto the other leg. He'd never seen anybody have such a problem with a suit before, but he was happy his first assisting job had been on Charlie.
“I can do the rest myself now thanks,” Charlie glared down when the wetsuit was tightly up to his knees.
“You sure?” Oliver winked as he stood up.
He knew he was pushing his luck, but he didn't care. The throbbing in his tight red Speedos was driving him crazy. He was craving Charlie's touch against his skin and he wanted nothing more than to move his hands so he could get to work.
“I'm sure,” Charlie breathed calmly.
Standing slowly, Oliver pushed his body up against Charlie's. If Charlie wasn't so determined to hold everything in place, they'd be more than pushing up against each other. As they stared face to face, he could hear his own breath fluttering and shaking as his heart raced, sending blood rushing to his groin.
“I can help you get it on, if you want?” Oliver whispered softly.
Charlie's breath reflected Oliver's and started to shake. He noticed his eyes widen a fraction as his pupils dilated. He tried to resist every natural urge in his body, but when he found himself rocking forwards towards Charlie's moist and soft lips, he knew that the urge to kiss him was too strong.
“Stop it,” Charlie snarled through bated breath, “just get out.”
“I'm not doing anything,” Oliver whispered, not taking his eyes from Charlie's trembling lips, “is there something you want me to do?”
“Just stop all this flirting horse shit.”
“You think this is flirting? You've not seen anything yet.”
“I told you I have a girlfriend,” Charlie mumbled.
“And I told you that wasn't a problem.”
A soft quivering breath escaped Charlie's. Just let go, you know you want to.
“You're so arrogant,” Charlie laughed, “what makes you think I want you?”
Oliver was sure that Charlie was trying to convince himself more than anything.
“Because you do,” Oliver whispered confidently.
“Well you're wrong,” Charlie muttered, “I don't like guys.”
“How do you know if you've never tried?” Oliver said softly.
Oliver watched as a single bead of sweat trickled down the side of his pale face. He could feel the oxygen in the tiny cubicle being sucked up by all of their heavy panting, but Oliver was sure that it was from the nerves that were so clear in Charlie's eyes.
“Just back off yeah?” Charlie said, his voice shaking more and more with every word.
“You didn't answer my question?”
“What fucking question?”
“How do you know you don't want me unless you try me?” Oliver bit his lip again, narrowing his eyes on Charlie's as the throbbing in his Speedos became unbearable.
“I've told you, I don't like guys,” Charlie shot back, raising his voice.
“And like I said, that isn't a problem,” Oliver resisted the urge to lean in and kiss him. His lips look like they'd know their way around a dick.
“Well it is for me,” Charlie glared.
“Are you two okay in there?” Porter called from outside, “You've been in a while.”
Damn Porter, piss off.
“Everything's fine,” Oliver replied, not wavering from Charlie's stare, “Charlie's just having some beginner's problems.”
“They are a pain to get into if you
don't know how,” Porter laughed.
Feeling daring, Oliver pressed his rock solid bulge against Charlie's clenched knuckles, and the gasp that left his throat nearly made Oliver blow his load.
“Get your dick off my fucking hand,” Charlie snarled through gritted teeth.
“Get your hand off my dick,” Oliver winked.
Charlie dropped his hands hastily to his side, but when he did, Oliver quickly pressed his package up against Charlie's now firm shaft.
Oh boy, I knew you wanted me.
“Oops,” Oliver gasped, his own voice shaking.
***
Charlie wanted to scream. He was frozen to the spot as he felt Oliver's dick push up against his throbbing shaft. Confusion filled his mind, as he felt Oliver's erection pulsing against his skin.
Why the fuck am I hard over a guy?
Charlie couldn't explain what was going on. He hated Oliver. The very thought of his smug face made his skin itch, but with him pressed up against him, it felt like the most erotic moment of his life.
His heart pounded in his chest, causing the veins in his temples to throb and burn. All of the saliva from his mouth vanished and when he imagined what it would be like to kiss Oliver, he seemed to snap back to reality.
“Back off,” Charlie cried out, his hands reaching up to Oliver's shoulders and with one firm shove, pushed him through the curtain.
He watched as Oliver scrambled backwards, and as if in slow motion, he gripped onto the tropical fabric for balance, but as each loop connecting it to the rail snapped, Charlie knew it was too late.
As he watched Oliver fall to the ground, he quickly yanked the wetsuit up over his shoulders, feeling his throbbing cock poking awkwardly out of the front. Porter bolted over to help a scrambling Oliver out of the curtain.
Quickly turning around to hide the tent in the front of the wetsuit, he reached his hands awkwardly around his back as he fumbled for the zip.
“Fucking hell Oliver, are you okay?” Porter called out, as he pulled Oliver up from the ground.
Charlie's eyes quickly darted down to Oliver's groin, but the shock of the situation must have sent it back to it's soft, but huge, bulge. Sighing as he felt his own throbbing stop, he repositioned himself in the mirror and walked casually over to Porter.
“I need to get some proper changing rooms,” Porter laughed, “they are way too small.”
“Tell me about it,” Oliver laughed nervously as Porter zipped up the suit from the bottom of Charlie's back to his neck, “I tripped over my own foot trying to get Charlie into that suit.”
Fucking liar.
“Don't worry about it,” Porter said, “I've been meaning to get rid of that hideous curtain for years. You've done me a favor.”
As he walked over to the counter to pick up the pile of leaflets, Oliver wandered into the now curtain less cubicle and peeled off his Speedos.
Jesus Christ, it's huge even soft.
Charlie didn't want to look, but he couldn't take his eyes away as he watched it dangle between his legs as he pulled on his own suit with elegant ease. His eyes ran up his body, but when he saw the cocky look in Oliver's face, the hatred quickly returned.
“Zip me up?” Oliver smiled softly before turning around.
Charlie took a deep breath as he saw the tops of Oliver's overly round cheeks connect to his lower back with a definite tan line. Trying not to look, he quickly ragged the zip up to the top of his neck. He didn't want to notice the little dimples at the bottom of his back or the slight twitching in his shoulder blades, but as they stepped out of the cubicle, he couldn't think of anything else.
“You guys ready?” Porter called.
“I'm ready,” Oliver said, but he didn't take his eyes away from Charlie.
Charlie knew he wasn't responding to Porter. He knew he was saying it directly to him. Charlie wanted to tell him once and for all to leave him alone, but he couldn't summon the words. Instead he tried to ignore the hot tingling that was swirling around deep inside, and the confusion that swam around his mind.
I don't like guys.
I don't fucking like guys.
Chapter 5
Tugging at the tight wetsuit, Charlie could feel the eyes of every passer by staring at him.
“You did this on purpose,” Charlie whispered to Oliver as they handed out the leaflets to people on the corner of the main street.
“Did what?” Oliver said through gritted teeth.
“This,” Charlie motioned to the tight wet suit clinging to his skin, “getting me to work at the Surf Club.”
Oliver chuckled, which only angered Charlie more.
“You didn't have to take the job.”
“Believe me, I wouldn't have even gone down if I knew you worked there,” Charlie muttered.
“But we wouldn't be spending all this quality time together,” Oliver whispered.
I don't want to spend this time with you.
Standing on the corner of the main shopping street in nothing more than a wetsuit made Charlie feel more humiliated than he had in a long time. What made it worse was that Oliver actually looked quite good in his costume, with the material clinging perfectly to each solid muscle in his body. Charlie felt like a stick insect next to him, despite having never been bothered about his body before.
I wonder if he wasn't so good looking, would he be so arrogant?
“This is so degrading,” Charlie sighed as he miserably handed a leaflet out to an unenthusiastic woman pushing a pram.
“Just smile,” Oliver said, widening his own smile, “you look good.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Charlie snapped.
“Nothing,” Oliver smiled, facing away from Charlie to hand out another leaflet, “I just think your ass looks hot in that suit.”
Charlie nearly peered over his own shoulder to get a view of his backside, but instead he glared at the back of Oliver's perfectly cut hair. Why is everything about him so perfect? Everything that was, aside from his attitude towards Charlie.
“Is there any reason we have to wear these stupid suits?” Charlie asked, pulling at the skin tight material.
“I just think Porter likes seeing us in them,” Oliver laughed.
“He's gay?” Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Obviously! Have you seen him?” Oliver laughed, turning to face Charlie, “How many straight guys do you know with highlights?”
“I thought it was just from the sun,” Charlie sighed, realizing he'd got him all wrong.
“He has a kid but she was from a surrogate. He's dating a local cop. It's meant to be a secret, but I caught them at it in the surf club after hours one night.”
Damn, is everyone in this town gay?
“Well I feel like a fucking idiot,” Charlie said, squirming as the suit clung ill-fitting to his skin.
“I quite like it,” Oliver winked, “I like the feel of it against my stuff.”
His hand grabbed his groin and gave it a squeeze, making Charlie glance down at the protrusion.
“Is that all you think about?” Charlie mumbled.
“What?”
“Sex!”
“Not all the time,” Oliver laughed, “sometimes I think about other things.”
“Oh?” Charlie raised an eyebrow, “Like what?”
“Masturbating?”
Rolling his eyes, Charlie should have known it would be something still related to sex.
“How long do we have to do this for?” Charlie asked, after giving out what felt like the hundredth leaflet.
“Until now,” Oliver said, walking over to the trashcan and dumping the remainder of his leaflets in carelessly, “let's go and get some lunch.”
“We can't just stop working,” Charlie protested, handing out another leaflet to a man in a suit, “what if Porter finds out?”
Oliver laughed, “You're such a goody two shoes aren't you? C'mon.”
Oliver grabbed the paper from him and cast them off into the tra
sh, before grabbing his hand and dragging him off in the direction of the diner.
As they headed towards the diner, Charlie reluctantly followed him, having lost the energy to fight Oliver off anymore.
***
Charlie is going to be mine in no time.
As Oliver dragged Charlie towards the diner, he could feel him following him without much resistance. Imagining what it would be like when he stripped Charlie's clothes off and pushed him onto his bed, he pushed open the diner door and dropped Charlie's hand so he could watch him walk in.
“Charlie, Oliver!” Sarah called over the counter.
She was wearing a retro red dress with a white apron over the top. Her blonde hair was curled delicately around her face making her look youthful. Far too youthful to have an 18 year old son, Oliver thought.
“How's the first day going Mom?” Charlie asked, looking visibly uncomfortable in his work clothes.
“It's going really good,” she whispered over the counter to Charlie, “people are so generous with the tips here. What are you guys up to?”
“We're getting some lunch,” Oliver smiled, “I'm starving.”
I'm hungry all right. I'm hungry for your son.
“Go and sit down. I'll get you something on the house.”
Oliver led Charlie to a quiet booth in the corner of the quirky and quiet diner.
“We're going to get in so much trouble,” Charlie sighed, fidgeting in his seat.
“Will you shut up?” Oliver laughed, “We're fine.”
He looks so cute when he's worrying.
“I'm not even hungry,” Charlie mumbled.
“I am,” Oliver smirked cheekily.
The look on Charlie's face told Oliver that he was getting beyond frustrated with all of the sexual innuendo, but he wasn't bothered. The more Charlie showed that he didn't want him, the more he craved him. The more he wanted to catch him.
Oliver knew that Charlie was going to have him running, and he was ready for the chase. For Oliver, it wasn't about getting Charlie's heart, it was about getting in his pants.
