It's a bar chord for Liam Ramirez whether Leo Quintero's shift from hater to fan is genuine or conceals darker motives─hard to play, so he simply goes along with it.
A-Side: from rival bands in high school, Liam as a newfound vocalist of the reignin...
WARNING: This chapter contains mature content with explicit language which may not be suitable for very young readers.
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"ARE YOU just going to stare there?" he asked with a grin. "First time seeing someone shirtless?"
Did you expect me not to be stunned? Your body is so perfect. You're intentionally doing this to me, Leo.
"What are we doing?" I asked, my mind seemingly swept away by the waves, unable to think quickly because of the huge distraction standing in front of me.
He pointed towards the sea. Oh, swimming. Okay.
Embarrassed, I still stripped down. I don't go to the gym because I just work out at home, so my physique is simple, satisfying enough for any thirsty guy, but of course, I don't do that. I'm not a bitch. If I ever become one, maybe I'd only show my bitch side to Leo.
Wow, Liam! How audacious of me to think I can be his bitch when I know my appearance doesn't hold a candle to his, as if he were James Franco eyeing his leading lady in his youth and his demeanor towards me had a younger version of Michael Paré's vibe from his movie "Eddie and the Cruisers". He's really got that charisma of the hot Hollywood actors of the 90s or late 2000s.
We ran together from the shoreline towards the sea, both naked, swimming and frolicking in the cool water like children. Even as the sun set, the water's reflection remained clear. Even in the dusk, I could still see Leo's body submerged in the water. I knew he could see mine too.
The sea water washed away the heat of the day, but there was a different warmth brought about by this situation the longer I spent with him. The gentle lapping of the sea against his body, droplets of water falling from his hair, the sunlight on this twilight afternoon, all those details were clear to me, especially the fantasy of wishing it were just me and him.
But why was he approaching me? Am I that obvious when I look at him?
He just gazed at me, unwavering. We were silent, with only the sound of the sea surrounding us, but why was my heart joining in? The beating grew louder and louder.
"Why?" I asked, and there was only a short distance between us now. A strong wave could possibly touch where it shouldn't.
"I'm getting cold, aren't you?" He rubbed his wet palms together, slightly wrinkled from being soaked.
"I'm okay," I replied. How could I feel cold when I'm warming up to him? Oh, calm down, baby, calm down.
"You've been staring at me for a while, quiet... is there a problem?" he asked, then passed his palm over his wet hair, which pushed it upwards and left it slicked back, revealing his forehead.
"No, nothing," I said, realizing how straight his nose was, just like him. Not like mine, crooked. I wanted to trace it with my fingers.
"It seems like you have something to say," he said calmly, as calm as the sea.
I didn't want to confess my feelings, but if there was one thing I wanted him to know right now, it was that he made me happy again today. "I'm just happy, thank you."
It made him smile, a radiant smile even in the encroaching darkness around us. "That's what I was gonna ask, but I'm happy to know that you are."
"Can't you see that I am?" I asked, and I purposefully made my expression serious, which he immediately noticed.
"Not really. You look too serious, like I need to do this just to see you laugh," he replied, and in an instant, he grabbed my sides and started tickling me relentlessly.
It felt like electricity coursing through my entire body, causing me to weaken, to lose strength. I screamed and begged him to stop tickling me, but his force was too strong, and I couldn't break free. It was really exhausting. I felt like I was being tortured when I was tickled, and I couldn't help but scream, but there was a part of me that enjoyed it. Like, the fact that he was touching my body, feeling his hand on my skin, and seeing how happy he was doing it to me.
"Leo! I'm ticklish! Stop it! Damn it, if I drown!"
"Then I'll save you," he said seriously, finally releasing me, then added, "Yiee...!"
He thought I was flattered.
"You're so cheesy!" I retorted and pushed him after splashing water on his face. As he wiped his face and rubbed his eyes, I ran and hid my smile until I reached the shoreline. I sat on the sand, still within reach of the waves that washed over my thighs and both sides of my buttocks, washing away the clinging wet sand there.
I was panting from the wind chasing me, almost exhausted from Leo's tickling. I watched him resurface from the sea like a leading man in a movie, with an enticing gaze, a body you'd worship, a face you wouldn't tire of looking at, and lips you'd want to claim, never growing tired of kissing.
I wanted to suck his wet lips dry until the sea water was gone.
I'd kneel for him!
I kept my gaze on him until he sat beside me. We were in the same position, his arms resting on his knees, his hands clasped around both legs. After a while, he sighed as he stared at the sky, slowly lying down and using his hand as support under his head.
As my chin rested on his left shoulder, he wasn't released from my stolen glances, and one of my hands brushed against the wet sand on the shore. I scooped up the sand in my palm and sprinkled it on his chest, gently spreading it as if I were applying oil. At first, he just let me stroke his chest, silently gazing at the sky, not looking at me, but I knew he felt something different with my touch.
As the sand thinned, its roughness disappeared, and my palm's skin met his chest's skin, that's when he decided to look at me, making direct eye contact. I was almost startled by his gaze, and I wanted to look away, but he suddenly stopped my hand from caressing with his own hand, the one that was resting beneath him earlier.
With just a squeeze, he almost immobilized my hand, he exhaled, his breath momentarily synchronized with a blink. When he opened his eyes, he gave me a look as if he wanted to ask me something, curiosity written all over his face.
At the point where he was about to ask, my heart almost leapt out of my rib cage with nervousness. Who wouldn't be surprised by what he was about to ask me?
"Liam..." he called me, using his deepest and coldest voice that I've only heard now. He paused, lowering his gaze to my lips, down to my neck, down to my pounding chest, down to the space between my thighs, before returning and locking his eyes with mine that spoke volumes. His throat seemed dry, thirsty but not for water. He swallowed before continuing,
