SUBURBAN LEGENDZ: Washed Ashore

 

 

  

There are stories out there… about them. They wash up on the beach early in the mornings or in times when there’s barely anyone out. Periods of liminal space where it seems the world goes quiet and reality turns its head away. Mermaid, Sirens. They’d been mistaken for many creatures and gone by many names themselves. Their beauty knew no bounds. Looks that seemed beyond human comprehension.
But Ryan knew that face.

Marco.

The hair, the arms, the pecs, and the arch leading to the ass. 

Only a year since they’d seen each other.

—

Ryan and Marco liked walking on the beach in the morning. The fresh air, the cold sand on their feet for summer, the morning sky. Ryan was a loud kind of guy, jumping off planks picking up sticks and tossing them about. Marco was more reserved, always strolling behind, but never too far from Ryan. At school, people felt bad for Marco, assuming Ryan was dragging him along. That the quiet boy had no defense for Ryan’s whim and overpowering personality.

 Ryan always laughed in their faces, when people tried to tell him to knock it off. A few could really get Ryan in a laughing fit till he’d hunched over, tears in his eyes. Then he’d finally answer them back, Marco never did anything he didn’t want to. And Ryan would never make Marco do something he didn’t want. Marco didn’t speak much, but even when he didn’t open his mouth, Ryan heard him. People around town had their opinions about the two boys but no one wanted to be the first to bring…that up. Once that was out, there’d be no containing it.

 And so, the boys were out on the beach Monday morning, the sunrise spilling over everything. Seagulls flew down to peck and snatch abandoned fries. Their cries, the morning roll call. Ryan and Marco were too old to play about, but too young to bring metal detectors. Instead, they walked, both dressed in swim trunks. Always prepared if the mood ever struck them.

Ryan’s outfit was vibrant. His trunks dark blue, fading into lavender, then magenta. No one asked. His shirt a faded green with a logo slapped in the center of an outdated cartoon show he used to watch. His blond locks never got in his eyes because he kept his hair short.
Marco wore black. Both his trunks and shirt. He liked black, it matched his curly hair. Ryan knew that and he also knew black was an easy color to hide in and sink into. There was a reason Marco had preferred long curly locks even if the wind blew it about. Though Marco’s mom had recently had enough and had him get it cut back down.

 They walked shoulder to shoulder bumping into the other. A few laughs, some family stories shared, but how much did one have to say when they spent every day together? Marco’s gaze always fixed out on the horizon, when it wasn’t on Ryan.

 Ryan often wondered what his friend was staring at, the clouds and the ocean were the same as ever. But deep inside Ryan knew it was more than a stare; there was a yearning. He ended up getting a few paces ahead, which is why Ryan spotted it first. A wave, larger than the normal incoming tide, splashed on the beach, and receded after having spat someone out ahead of them. Ryan saw movement but was immediately worried that the person needed help and tugged Marco’s shirt before running off by himself. He knew Marco would understand and didn’t have to look back to know Marco was behind him.

As Ryan got closer the man began to move more, but Ryan didn’t slow down.  He couldn’t.  His legs were moving on their own, speed never once faltering. Then he came upon the man and his body halted, Marco softly slammed in behind him.

The stranger was fixing his speedo, over a very plump ass. His position put his full body on display, water droplets clinging to his wide chest, a layer of shine above his abs. He looked like a demigod birthed by the sea.

Ryan’s heart was aflutter while his breathing hitched. Not how he felt about Marco. This was indescribable. The stranger may have looked like a normal man but being in his presence one could feel the difference. Every flex and movement of the stranger's body played a wordless song that was the perfect visual tune for any viewer's eyes.

A frustrated grunted escaped the man's lips as he pulled the speedos, and they slapped on his ass, water flying into the sand. “Land legs are always hard,” He turned his head, eyes surprised, upon spotting Ryan and Marco watching him.

“Oh hello,” He waved. “My name is Sahar. I didn't think anyone would be out here so early.” He rested his hands down waiting for Ryan and Marco to respond. The boys didn’t say a word Marco gripping Ryan’s shoulders from behind, peering over. Sahar searched around the beach for what had rendered his company speechless. “I’m confused; I thought above the sea it was proper form to introduce oneself?” He looked back at them.

“I’m Ryan and this is Marco.” Ryan stepped forward. “W–we didn't mean to be rude, it's just. You're breathtaking. Who–what are you?”

A realization dawned on the man as he smiled, calm and tranquil like the morning ocean currently meeting the sand. Sahar was about to answer Ryan’s question when he stopped himself, a better idea in mind. “What do you think I am?” 

“A man from the sea.” Marco’s voice piped up from behind Ryan.

 Sahar nodded, with a half laugh, the top row of his white teeth showing. He liked that answer. Ryan suddenly felt good he hadn’t blurted out ‘water spirit’. 

“My kind, we like to come on land for various reasons. I particularly like to watch the sun rise and feel the heat on my skin.” He turned down at his legs, “Sadly, I don’t get much practice on land. Would you boys mind helping me?”

“You want us to teach you to walk?”

“No, I doubt we’d have the time, but if you could drag me a bit from the water’s edge it’d give me a better view.”

Ryan and Marco exchanged looks and both knew they were going to help. They worked as a team pulling on the man’s arm. Sahar weighed a ton, he was one giant sang bag, Ryan and Marco dragged up the beach. They rested his back against a log.

“My many thanks!” Sahir exclaimed, situating his body.

“So, we just leave you here? How will you get back?” Ryan asked, “The walk wasn't far at all, but Sahar couldn’t do it.

“I’m sure a kind person will come along just as you two did.” Sahar dismissed the boy's worries. His other worldly beauty that had existed by the water had been subdued. Now, he looked like any other gorgeous guy sitting on the beach.

“I want to stay.” Marco blurted out.

Ryan turned to his friend. Marco sure was talking a lot for their morning stroll. But Ryan didn't mind that. He never would. What he minded was how even with Sahar’s beauty faded, Marco hadn't stopped ‘drinking in’ Sahar’s form.

 “I don’t mind the company.” Sahar turned his attention to the ocean. Ryan sat on the log beside Sahar’s upper body, and Marco sat on the other side. All three watched the sky lighten, as birds flapped away. It almost felt like no time passed at all. Sahar began to talk, unprompted, of where he was from and of the men like him who lived in the sea. He had known the exact questions on their minds. Ryan and Marco listened eagerly like it was a bedtime story. Sahar’s voice had a melodic quality, encouraging the teens to close their eyes and envision the tale being crafted.

Men under the ocean didn’t sound absurd when Sahar said it. It was easy to envision the men swimming or walking about, living in a paradise only for them. The story came to an end when Sahar stopped talking.

“I believe the time has come for me to depart.” The man’s eyes slanted, staring out to the sea. “My friends are probably waiting for me below the sea water by now.” 

“We’ll help you!” Marco jumped up, with a nod of his head, instructing Ryan to grab the man’s arms, while he moved for the feet.

“You’ve already helped me so much, there is no need to go further.”

“Eh,” Ryan laughed, “When Marco gets this fired up, it’s best to go along with it.” The two hoisted, and with great strain managed to get him several inches off the ground. Good enough they began to cart him down.

“This kindness is too much,” Sahar said, swaying like a weighted rag doll. “I must repay you.”

Ryan chuckled through a grunt, “You don’t look like you keep money on you.”

“True, that while I can’t bestow a monetary reward, I can bestow a boon that my people have. All I ask is that you carry me out further into the sea than where you found me. I’ll be able to truly share it out there.”
The duo did their awkward waddle, turning sideways as seafoam crashed into their feet. Ryan wanted to make sure Marco wouldn’t be caught off guard by an unexpectant wave coming. Cold water nipped at their lithe bodies as they held firm to Sahar’s. They didn’t want him to drop from their grasps like a boulder before they could get out of the shallow end. The water’s viscosity dropped their movement speed as they were careful not to drip. A glow came back to Sahar’s body, and his beauty was beyond measure.
“Thank you, tiny ones.”

“We’re not tiny, you're just HUGE,” Ryan choked out as the water encased his calves, moving up to his knees. There was a tingle in his toes that travelled up his body. His feet mashed into the sand below. They were larger than they should have been, but Ryan couldn’t focus on that because his body was growing with every tremble of the water. Sahar was becoming easier to carry, as Ryan's arms bulked up, biceps and triceps racing to see which could grow more. Ryan’s eyes found Marco panting, as pecs formed under his shirt. Every indentation was on display as abs whisked themselves into reality. The water wasn’t as noisy as Marco’s bones popping like split wood, Marco’s back separated his shoulders further apart. He was wide, like a wrestler, built for power. Marco's shirt ripped as was carried away by the ocean, as his face refined. Ryan was stunned, knowing the same thing was happening to him. He could feel it working its way through his body until his own shirt was gone. Ryan’s quads exploded, followed by his hamstrings, both working to make his glutes round out and fill up his trunks.

By now Sahar was floating in the water on his own, but the boys hadn't released him just yet. A wave came tossing Ryan and Marco about. Their bodies slammed into each other colliding with force. Ryan was sure his spine popped itself longer as he spun about. He was worried they'd drown, as he lost Marco’s body under the waves. Then Ryan’s mind was suddenly relaxed, he opened his eyes. Water wasn’t an issue. He could hold his breath a bit longer. He could see.

The reason why, stood in front of him.

 

A hulking black guy as handsome as Sahar locked eyes with Ryan. His face was friendly and reassuring. Ryan knew it was all going to be okay. Sahar’s friend was here to help. Closing his eyes Ryan felt his body pushed backwards through the water by a gentle hand as the water level lowered around him and his upper body broached the surface.

Air against his wet cheeks Ryan opened his eyes to find Marco, smiling at him. Older. Thicker. Solid.

 

“That was awesome!” Ryan exclaimed looking down at himself.

“It was,” Marco turned to the horizon. “Sahar’s out there, we should go meet his friends.”

 

“Uh dude, I think them sending us back was their way of saying it's over,” Ryan shared.

“No, they wouldn’t be waiting if that were the case.” Marco began walking forward, but Ryan grabbed his hand. Marco's eyes fell on Ryan gently, “I’ll come back, promise.”

Ryan chuckled, releasing his hand, “You didn’t need to say it, I could tell from your eyes.” The truth was Ryan did know, but Marco knew he needed to hear it.

Marco dove into the water swimming, with perfect strokes towards the horizon until his body disappeared under water.

 
Ryan waited for a long time, His own body still changing. Even far away from Sahar. Every few minutes he stood taller in the water, trunks tighter. At some point his memories unraveled and the next thing he knew, he was lying alone on the beach. He sat up and was greeted by a setting sun. Hours had gone by and he had been left ashore unbothered. Before his heart could worry any further, Ryan saw him.

He had a beard. His curls had grown back. The body type had evolved. Even his trunks had grown to fit him. Ryan could feel it himself too; he was older but not like Marco. Marco was changed. The new man’s eyes locked onto something below the sea.

“Marco,” Ryan’s voice let out a low mummer.

His best friend turned his head as if compelled.

Their eyes met. Marco had the same beauty as Sahar, something Ryan couldn’t quite grasp. However, it only amplified what Ryan had already felt for Marco. Marco moved up on shore; he knew ‘Come here’ very well.

Water crashed onto the back of Marco's legs as he exited the water. Waves roiling over themselves to touch him. Marco strutted, hips swaying, pecs bouncing as he made his way to Ryan. Once out of the water completely, Marco jogged on the sand, then sprinted until he tackled Ryan in a hug, they rolled around laughing. 

Now, in his arms, bodies against each other, Ryan kissed Marco’s lips. Marco completely melted into it, surprised, but wanting it just as much. Two men locking lips on the beach for any morning visitors to see. The townsfolk could whisper, they could frown.  But they couldn’t stop this. Nor would they want to. No one's eyes would be cruel enough to deny them this sight. The men grinded into each other, cocks rubbing and poking through their trunks. They were making love without even taking off their clothes. Though Marco’s trunks had evolved, Ryan’s weren’t long for this world. Ryan’s cock snuck out of a leg hole to drip freely on to the say.

The newly anointed men were drunk. Drunk off knowing they were free from the expectations of society. They could just be. The two held each other side by side, one hand on their partner’s head, the other hand shoved into their partner’s trunks. Though Marco’s hand was out in full view for what he was doing with Ryan’s cock. His hand moved at an alarming rate, body still dry humping; he couldn’t get enough Ryan. 
Meanwhile, Ryan had pulled down the back of Marco’s trucks to firmly grasp his ass. He maneuvered to Marco's chest to suck on the inflated saucer-sized nipples, nursing on them like a baby. He wanted to kiss every spot on Marco but found his way back to the lips eventually. They came loudly, roaring out with deep moans, neither could have reached before their overgrown balls flooded their systems with new testosterone courtesy of Sahar. A crashing wave was to thank for the roars going unheard and into the wind.

Ryan seed shot into the air before falling down on the sand and his upper thigh. Marco was forced to release all of himself directly into Ryan's hand, covering it—drenching it— in cum. The two men didn’t make any rush to move, just held each other longer. Ryan pulled his hand out to stare at the shimmering cum on it. Pearly white. Sparkled like the sun on water. Unnatural. Ryan liked it. Tasted distinctly like Marco and…the sea. He swallowed it all, till his hand was spotless.

Marco stared at him, mouth agape, “Dude…gross.”

“Should I have shaved you some?” Ryan joked, earring him a quick shove, before Marc leaned down and licked some of the cum on Ryan's leg.

 
“Kiss me,” Marco said Ryan’s nut in his mouth.

“Eww no way.” Ryan laughed as Marco tried to bring their lips back together. The men rolled around playing stay away. For as big as their bodies were and how expanded their minds had become, their behavior was childish and carefree. Marco failed to share, swallowing all of Ryan’s cum for himself. He gave up and collapsed on Ryan's body into his arms. Ryan lay there catching his breath. Ryan stared at Marco’s head resting on his chest, a soft smile on his face, realizing Marco was listening to his heartbeat. Ryan dared not ask why. Not yet as there was a tinge of sadness in the smile.

“We should probably head back.”

Marco didn’t answer, wordless again. He simply nodded on Ryan’s pec. The two got up, cleaned themselves up and walked hand in hand. Ryan had thought he meant back to their parents’ houses, but their bodies kept them walking along the beach, no obstructions in their path. Morning beachgoers, trickled in, people turned their heads to stare and gawk, but no denouncements came.  The pair eventually came upon a villa, sat neatly upon the shore, stairs spilling right into the sand as if it had always been waiting for them. They walked up, Marco went first and Ryan pinched at his ass, causing the two to playfully make it to the front door. Marco slapping and cupping Ryan's ass so possessively on the porch the impact echoed out.

“I barely even felt that, with all this” Ryan said proudly and shook his ass. They were now at the front door; it was open with a slight crack. Ryan was going to make a comment about it but saw Marco's eyes out on the water. “I’ll go first,” he piped up to bring Marco’s attention back. 

Stepping inside, the two just knew the house was theirs. A combination of both of their sensibilities put into a space and perfectly blended. An open living room, a separate kitchen in the back. Pictures around the home of the two of them, young and older. Of memories they lived and ones they now only ’recalled’. Ryan took off sprinting around the place, telling Marco about everything he was touching. Maro planted himself on the couch, a smile on his face as he listened to Ryan ramble. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, one arm along the spine of the couch. Ryan disappeared upstairs, shouting from above about the bedrooms and bathrooms. He came charging back down.

“You have to check it out….” Ryan paused, staring at Marco, seeing the contentment as their gazes met. Ryan knew it. He'd known it from the beginning. “You’re not staying.”

Marco's eyes dropped, “I’m not.”

Ryan walked over to Marco sitting in the nook of his open arm, “You have to go.” He didn't know if he was stating a fact or giving permission, but he knew Marco needed to hear him say it. For both of them,
“I do.” Marco had tears in his eyes. He pulled Ryan in for a hug. “I want to see what’s beyond the horizon.” 

Ryan understood. He always had. This town was never big enough for Marco. Marco was always destined to go beyond the town one way or another. It’s what Marco yearned for when he looked at the ocean, why he went back out to Sahar. And in the end Marco had changed far beyond Ryan. 

They didn't speak after that; there was no point. Everything was said through connection, looks, kisses, grazes. They spent the day together, Ryan showing off the house, and then the night making love to each other. The sun hadn’t even risen when Marco left. He flicked the lamp next to the bed, as Ryan woke up. A kiss on the head then the lips was his goodbye. The look on his face said it all: I’ll be back. I know where home is. Lights back off, He was gone. Ryan pulled himself to the window to watch Marco stroll out to sea and disappear beneath the waves.

Ryan took to morning strolls by himself. He encountered more men washing up on shore. It felt like after finding one it was an invitation spot more.  People would stop and ask him about his traveling husband and when he’d be back. Ryan would always smile and say when the time was right.

And one day, the time was right. There was a smell in the ocean and a cheer in the air, Ryan couldn’t ignore during his strolled. A wave crashed to shore, and as the water receded Marco was left behind.
“Hey there handsome, need help getting up shore?” Ryan stated.

Their days together would grow longer, Marco’s eyes less on the sea. And Ryan's gaze would be where it always favored: on Marco. Ryan grew to love arriving back to the house to find his favorite man waiting, these days now splashed in color. 

 

What was better than a stroll with the one you love?