The door slowly creaked open.

Harry sat up from his daze, 'Drake?'

'Nate,' Nathan corrected, before closing in.

At boiling point, their suppressed affections for one another came together in feverous passion, lips mashing together. Hands groped and explored firm muscle contours, fingers knotted in thick hair. They rolled over on the bed, Nate was suspended over Harry, tongues dancing and hips grinding.

Suddenly the ceiling opened up, revealing a blue sky, the sun's luminosity leaking through the clouds. Harry took control, rolling until he was on top of Nate.

As he sat back to unbuckle his belt, his clothes liquefied and evanesced on a gentle wind. He beheld Nate, who had also been brushed naked by the cleansing wind, his member fully erect. Harry grasped the length and massaged, the skin of his hand sliding over the glistening end, eliciting subtle moans from Nate, who pulled Harry's head down to kiss him deeply.

Harry sat on his heels, Nate lying prostrate between his knees. Their members were adjacent, Harry took hold of both lengths and stroked whilst mocking the animation of intercourse, slowly pushing his pelvis back and forth.

Trees sprouted from the earth around them, creeping skywards in accelerated growth. Branches stretched out, smaller twigs crawling out to form intricate patterns, all reaching towards the sun.

Harry continued fondling the two, kneading at Nate's lavish scrotum as it protracted with the tensing of his gut. Their tongue's pushed warmly together.

Harry trailed down Nate's abdomen with soft, open kisses; his lips pressing against soft flesh. His mouth pursed over Nate's breast, and he tongued his navel. He took in Nate as much as was possible, if he could have melted into him, he would have.

He wanted to die with him, embraced in their final moments as the flames devoured them. Their ashes would mix, and then only the wind could take them.

He neared Nate's member then, as it prodded his neck. He kissed his end, and then took it in, his tongue running down the shaft. He heavily nodded his head back and forth, Nate's throbbing end rubbing against the roof of Harry's mouth.

He sat up then, moving forward to position himself between Nate. He lifted the man's legs and propped them onto his shoulders. Harry grasped himself and brushed his end between Nate's tender buttocks before sliding in. Nate's warm inside contracted around Harry's length.

Harry rubbed against the man's prostate, and he could see the blood rushing to Nate's face. The scent of memory lingered; he could smell brine and urine. The nostalgia brought a sense of foreboding, but Harry ignored it as he continued thrusting into Nate.

His tempo hastened, his hips slapping against Nate as he buried his member to the hilt with each thrust.

As his impending climax neared, his eyes closed, and his mouth opened; his member running through every texture of Nate's passage.

Before the smell of blood could register, he was hit by a wave of salt-water.

He started awake, sweating and breathing deeply. He had fallen asleep in his clothes, and had consequently wetted his jocks. He faced a moldy ceiling, bleak reality meeting him the very moment he opened his eyes.

Throwing his legs over the bed's side, he arched over and pulled at his hair.

I can't do this anymore.

In his despair, a glimmer of hope shone through.

What if he feels the same now… What if he's come to terms?

Standing up, he left his room, neglecting the need to wash up. As he neared Nate's room, he lifted a hand to knock, but was brought to a halt by the sound of Chloe's voice coming from the room.

'… just like we said. We pull of the heist, find the ships and make off with the treasure.'

The following exchanges were incoherent, and he strained to hear through the door.

'… and you and I just… disappear.'

Harry broke. He pulled away, not wanting to hear the rest. When he arrived back at his room, he paced back and forth, breathing his despair. He collapsed forward against a wall, and crumbled down to his knees.

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