It Started In Barbados
A queer love story
Some queer romance for your enjoyment. Very NSFW. Explicit.
Also, people in this story will probably make bad choices and eschew protection when they really should use it. Romance stories are supposed to be fun. Real life is messier than that. Make better choices than these guys do.
Kai meets Ivan
Kai Summerfield, 24, on his first ever vacation alone, stood at the hotel bar, a sparkling swimming pool behind him, crashing ocean waves framing the beach behind it, sun and blue sky and all the perfect things that only Barbados could provide.
He’d saved for a year, his first job after college affording him not much extra, but enough. Kai still didn’t know what he wanted to do when he grew up. He still thought of himself as a Toys-R-Us kid, even though the responsibilities and stresses of being grown up had hit him like a meteor the minute he’d stepped off the stage at graduation. Now, with a shitty apartment and a job staring at a computer all day, he felt himself slipping into a new, unpleasant tedium, the only hope for the future a slow ladder climbing through different jobs staring at computers all day.
Still, no need to think about that right now. Right now he had a piña colada in his hand and a smile on his face, and there was this guy at the bar making eyes at him, which also didn’t hurt.
The guy making eyes at him looked older, but not much. He stood shirtless at the bar, like Kai, and Kai risked a glance over to study the muscles of his arms, nicely defined but not like the veiny bubble wrap of a bodybuilder. The guy had a dusting of hair between his pecs and a soft but firm belly, no real six pack visible, but that was just fine with Kai.
And now the guy was making eye contact with Kai, obviously well aware that Kai had been cataloguing his assets. The guy’s eyes shone cerulean, and the smile he now flashed Kai was framed by a trimmed brown beard and mustache.
Kai smiled back and then looked down at his drink, panicking a little. He’d never picked up anyone at a bar before, and that hadn’t really been his intent here. But his damn eyes had made that decision for him, roaming all over this stranger almost of their own accord.
So be it. He lifted his glass in a toast, and the guy returned the gesture with his own whiskey rocks.
And now the guy was walking over to Kai, and Kai really started to panic. He gulped at the piña colada, but it wasn’t really the kind of drink to provide instant stress relief, too sweet and cloying for that.
“Hi,” the guy said. “I’m Ivan.” He put a hand out, and Kai shook it, and it felt firm and calloused and Kai realized after a beat too long that he hadn’t let go yet. He let go.
