On a black sand beach.  Desolate at 7 AM except for two Eastern Standard risers.  

“A little more,” Brian stood focusing an imaginary camera on Justin, who backed toward the ocean.  “Okay.  Hold it there.”

Justin in rolled-up jean cuffs stood forever, patience waning, “It’s just a play shot.  Are you done yet?” when he was suddenly hit from behind by a cold wave that grabbed him to the knees and sucked the sand from under his bare feet so he stumbled against its receeding tow.  Mouth wide open in shock, he heard Brian clapping applause, saw him double with laughter and drop onto the sand.  “Fuck you, Brian!  You’re paying for this!”

Still laughing, Brian took the tackle hit that flattened him, Justin’s weight straddling his chest and a suggestive tongue flick as Justin reached back, unzipped his fly.  Until Brian caught a flash movement – Justin grabbing a handful of sand.  “No you  – FUCK!”  Brian flung Justin off and sat up cringing from coarse sand in sensitive places, stood and dropped his jeans to brush off before re-dressing.

Justin laughed so hard he wheezed,  “Full Moon over Hawaii,” froze in alarm when he saw Brian produce and roll a condom down three fingers, dip it in sand.  “You wouldn’t.”

“Not right now,” Brian grinned, peeled it off inside-out, packed it in its wrapper and into his pocket.  “Ready to move on?”

He ended the joke by tossing it in a trashcan beside the car so Justin wouldn’t have second thoughts about the right moment and would stop eyeing him like he was deranged.

Later they answered two of nature’s calls by driving on an access road into a field of seven-foot sugar cane stalks.  Got off, got lost on the maze of trails with Justin driving while Brian played hood ornament to see over the acres of cane tops.  They were rescued by a truckload of harvesters who led them out while chattering in Hawaiian about what Brian surmised was ignorant tourists.

At 3PM, Brian stood at the front desk arranging advance checkout while Justin circled the lobby for a last look at a student art display on the lobby walls.  Jabbed a little - watching Justin’s interest.  You deserve to be a painter in your own right.  Not selling your soul to advertising.  But it’s just a stepping-stone.  Keep your fire burning.

“Mr. Kinney?” Clerk slid a checkout slip across the counter.

“What?” Brian turned back.  “Oh.  Thanks.”  He scanned the Bill-To line, smiled at RegionAir Marketing, spoke as he signed.  “What’s the most exciting thing to see around here?”

“The Park just reopened.  It was shut down for a week because of the eruption.”

“Eruption?”

“Kilauea went for three days.  Really put a dent in business.  But I suppose once everyone knows the Park’s open again, things’ll pick up.”

“Do you have a map?” Brian’s eyes lit.

“Right here,” Clerk smiled wide, pulled a brochure from under the counter and handed it to Brian.  Happy tourists made repeat tourists.  “I don’t think all the roads are open yet, but you can get to the caldera.”

Justin was back, curious about Brian’s smile.  “Find something interesting?”

“Something you’ll never find in Pittsburgh.”

Brian shoved the map in his pocket, swung an arm around Justin’s shoulder and led him to the door.  An active volcano.  Imposing power.  Artistic inspiration. What could be more appropriate.

Lush tropicals changed to scrubby trees further into the Park.  Overcast skies made the hour seem much later.  Only one car passed – on its way out.

Justin concentrated on the map.  “I think we turn right here.”

Brian made the turn, drove about a mile before they reached a roadblock.  He stopped the car and left to investigate.  “Are you coming?” he called to Justin, still seated, and watched him slowly leave the car.

“What is it?” Justin warily scanned the foot-high broad solid dark layer, puffs of steam like ghosts all around.  Bite of sulfur in the air.

“Part of the lava flow,” Brian also looked around, headed for a steam hole and dropped to a knee, waved his hand near it and quickly pulled back.  “It’s hot as hell and still bright orange in there.  Take a look.”

“I…” Justin cleared his throat, “…think we should take another road.”  And he got back into the car.

Brian’s brows knit.  Not like Justin to shy away.  Whatever.  Brian jogged back, dropped into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, leaned on the steering wheel and watched Justin silently trace a finger on the map.  “Does the sulfur bother you?”

“No, I’m okay,” Justin snapped with a sharp-edged smile, cleared his throat again.  “We can turn around and try the next right.”  I’m okay.

Driving on the main road, Brian noted fresh black top bordered by craggy cooled lava.  “It looks like they repaved over a river of it,” he smiled, eyes moving across lakes of dark crust that in places resembled cake frosting.  Seemed a little dangerous.  A little thrilling.  He glanced at Justin, staring out the passenger window.  Thought he was awed by the view until Justin swiveled a serious eye on him.

“Do you have some death wish you haven’t told me about?”

“What the fuck does THAT mean?”

“Every road we took has been covered with lava,” Justin looked off, hand twitching, “What if it erupts again.  How do we get outta here,” he rubbed the scar on his temple.

Alarmed by the display, Brian saw a fenced entrance ahead, quickly turned into the empty lot and stopped near an information stand.  “Lean back and breathe slow,” he brushed a hand on Justin’s temple.  “Panic attack?” Haven’t seen one of those in -

Justin flung Brian’s hand aside.  “Just give me a minute, okay?”

Brian swallowed, tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, tripped the trunk lever and sailed out the door in one move.

“Brian?” Justin called, shut his eyes tight.  Shitshitshit.  Now HE’S pissed.  Then he heard Brian climb back inside, turned to apologize and saw Brian’s hands extended toward him, one holding a bottled water, the other with a vodka mini, head tilting a question from one to the other.  Made Justin exhale, smile and snatch the mini.

“Excellent choice,” Brian uncapped the water, watched Justin down half the mini and offer him the rest.  “What happened?”  Brian traded the water and finished the vodka.

“Got scared,” Justin sipped, leaned back.  “I fucking HATE that feeling.”

“It’s a fucking volcano,” Brian leaned back, eyes on him.  “I doubt the Park would be open if there was any real danger.”

“That’s not it,” Justin’s half-open eyes stared out unfocused.  He kept silent for several seconds before letting out a hesitant, “You know what real fear is?  It’s pointing a gun at a guy’s face…knowing you can pull the trigger…and not feel a thing,” he faded to a whisper,  “That there’s a part of you that can DO that…and not feel a thing.”

Brian swallowed, tried to keep the tension from his voice.  “Have you…been thinking about it?”  Fuck.  FUCK.  What the fuck should I do.

“I’ve dreamt about it.”

“So…did you ever…” Brian glanced off.  Say this fucking right.  “In that dream.  Did you ever do it?”

Justin bowed and shook his head, eyes to his lap, voice a whisper, “No.”

“You won’t,” Brian let a silent breath.  “Not in a dream…not ever.  Every man has a dark side.  It doesn’t make us evil,” he added a self-conscious, “Fuck.  It’s been my claim to fame for years,” felt a slap on his thigh and knew Justin was back, though his head still drooped.  “After what he did to you, you have every right to be mad and make him pay.  But if it ever came down to the real thing, you’re too strong to be like him.”  Brian lifted Justin’s chin to meet his eyes.  “You won’t.”

Justin twisted his head away, “I wasn’t sure I should tell anybody that,” rubbed both hands over his face, “I should just forget it.”

“You never forget.  But you can tell him, every time he pops into your mind…I won’t waste my time thinking about you, or what I want to do to you…you’re nothing to me.  I won’t let you run my life.”

Justin turned his head and saw Brian staring off in the direction of the dash, could almost see past shadows in his eyes.  “It doesn’t always work, does it?”

Brian centered on Justin, bare smile, “It gets you through the moment.”

“So could having something BETTER to think about…if you had something better to think about.”

Brian took in Justin’s eyes, wider, waiting.  “Yeah.  I do.”  Saw those eyes narrow with a smile and more life.  “I’ll try it if YOU will.”

“I’ll let you know how it works.”

Brian blinked agreement then straightened up, keyed the ignition and started the car. 

“What’re you doing?”

“I thought we’d go back to the hotel.  We’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”

“Fuck the hotel,” Justin reached over and shut the car down.  “We came all this way to see a volcano and we’re gonna SEE it.”

Justin left the car, shut the door and stood waiting.

Brian watched a second longer.  Will you always have to fight that demon in your head?  I’d pull that trigger FOR you…but I’m stronger than him, too.  Brian slid out, locked the door, hiked toward the main trail and snatched Justin’s hand along the way. 

Justin stayed firm, halting him at the end of tightroped arms.  Brian looked back worried that Justin freaked again.  What he saw were calm eyes above a warm smile.  Then Justin moved in, stretched up and kissed him.  Lightly, deeper with arms circling Brian’s waist, holding tight.  Brian ran his arms around Justin’s back and leaned into the kiss, pressing Justin down off his toes so their bodies fell against each other comfortably when the kiss became a hug.

“Care for a stroll up Devastation Trail?” Brian asked the top of Justin’s head.

“You’re such a romantic,” Justin gave a cheeky a blink.

Brian rolled bland eyes. “Come on.”

They moved apart still holding hands and followed the most worn path to a flight of stone steps.  Determined for better thoughts. 

Kilauea Crater, post eruption.  Like a drained lake with its gray crust bed. Centered on the crust, the firepit  – a pyramid of jagged rocks with the hot glow of its molten heart peeking through its cracks.  Above, inverted gray clouds born from heat and steam with weak flashes of heat lightning.  All around, steam spewed from small vents edged in white minerals and yellow sulfur.  Beauty or Hell – all in the eye of the beholder.

Resting from the long walk, Brian and Justin leaned shoulder-to-shoulder, forearms on the safety rail at the crater rim.  No one else around.

“It’s a lot bigger than I thought,” Justin gazed out.

“I’ve always liked that compliment,” Brian grinned, got a hard nudge and stood up.

Justin leaned his cheek on arms crossed on the railing, looked up at Brian staring across the crater.  Tall and magnificent against a turbulent sky of steel blue-gray lit with periodic flashes, placid rumbles, tint of bronze from the fire pit below, a mild breeze tousling his hair.

“This is you, Brian.”  He watched Brian’s head twist toward him, eyes wide and quizzical.  “Fire.  Lightening…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“…energy.  Heat. Depth.”  Justin turned, leaned his back and elbows on the rail, eyes glowing.  And Brian’s comments wouldn’t make him stop.  “I knew it the first time I saw you.”  His eyes followed Brian’s slouch onto a forearm on the rail, eyes staying on him, and Justin saw he was listening.  “I knew it the first time you held Gus.  There was this…” Justin looked off, tried again, “…this…”

“No word for it?” Brian softly added.

Justin stared direct, “This…capacity for such great things.  And nobody in my life could ever be that same way.  I love that about you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because sometimes it’s just nice to hear,” – you bonehead.  He expected a one-liner, sarcastic snort, some show of disapproval.  But none of that happened.  Only Brian’s steady gaze.  Like he was feeling the words instead of discounting them.  It gave Justin the lift to go on, and he had to smile the rest.  Because this was a man who didn’t volunteer certain things, but could answer if asked.  “Brian…what do you like most about me?”

Brian locked onto Justin’s eyes.  One, then the other…scanning, stalling.  How to answer that when all that came were flashes of color.  Visions of paintings and drawings.  The sound of life drumming through his veins.  A taste he couldn’t describe because it didn’t match anything else he knew.  Or a scent unlike anything he’d ever experienced.  Saying – just you – would be too trite.  And saying – everything – too much like a cop out.  What was left…that wouldn’t sound like a rip-off of Justin’s own words – Fuck, I wish I’d come up with that first – or an ad campaign, or military honor, or pickup line at a sleaze bar.

Justin waited, saw Brian edge toward him and knew those lips would answer.  In their own way.  And through the palms and fingers of his hands.  And the press of hard cock to his belly.  But didn’t this setting call for just a little more?  When Justin felt Brian’s lips slide a damp trail across his cheek and burrow into his neck, he whispered, “We’re in Hawaii.  Probably never be back here again.  Surely there’s something special we could do to make it memorable.”

Brian backed off, hint of amusement, “Like what?  Carve our initials in a tree?” he looked around and back, “Sorry.  There aren’t any trees up here.”

“There’re a lot of rocks,” Justin raised a grin.  “We could build a little rock altar like the ones along the highway.  You could set the top one if you like.”

Brian considered with a smirk, reached down and picked up a piece of dark lava rock.  “I’ll give you what you want.”

“It’s legend that the goddess Pele puts a curse on anyone who takes part of the island.”

“You wanted something special,” Brian grinned, turned and scouted a site.

“Brian,” Justin shook his head and followed, saw Brian drop to one knee at a large rock then knelt beside him to investigate.  He smiled as he watched Brian’s crude writing take form in black on light gray.  Frowned as the writing continued, grabbed Brian’s wrist to interrupt.

Brian stopped and studied Justin’s expression…head tilted, eyes narrowed.  A silent Taylor request.  All right, Brian breathed out through a smile.

Point taken, Justin radiated a return as he watched Brian finish the graffiti.

“There,” Brian dropped the rock, rubbed his hand on his jeans and leaned almost nose-to-nose.  “Does THAT meet with your approval?”

“Very much,” Justin lightly kissed.

“Then don’t make a liar out of me.”

“I won’t.  And we can get as loud as we want.  There’s just us.”

Brian took Justin’s hand as he rose to a stand, guided him back to the rail overlooking the fire pit, broke eye contact only once when he lifted Justin’s tee shirt over his head and draped the shirt on the rail.

They toed off tied tennis shoes as Justin deftly unbuttoned Brian’s shirt and Brian slid the zipper down Justin’s jeans.  Justin watched Brian’s shirt float off his shoulders to the ground while he undid the buttons trapping Brian’s rigid cock, moaned once when he felt Brian’s hands slide over his ass, thumbs hooked outside his waistband and pushing his jeans until they dropped to his ankles.

Brian felt Justin’s hands slide up the small of his back then creep into his waistband, flow over his ass, hips and thighs until his jeans fell.  They each stepped from pools of denim, hands moving over the curves and angles of their bodies.  Holding the urge to grind their cocks together.  Choosing to excite the largest of human sense organs, skin to skin… letting the fever build, teasing the need.

Until the urge to kiss made them weld together and the frantic movements signaled… Now.  No words.  Brian drifted kisses down Justin’s chest, into the mound of hair around the swollen cock as his hand searched rumpled jeans for the staples of sex.

Hands roaming the width of Brian’s shoulders, filtering through the softness of his hair, Justin felt Brian’s hand ride up between his thighs.  Spread his legs.  He closed his eyes and exhaled a hot, open-mouthed breath when that palm rode under his balls and a finger pad traced around his hole in smaller and smaller circles.  Until it penetrated with smooth ease.  Just enough, long enough to prep comfort without dulling the thrill of entry.  All the while, soft sucks and kisses covered his balls.  Brian’s lips and tongue burned over his cock and he dug his fingers into Brian’s shoulders.

The rip of foil.  Pinch and roll and generous spread of lube. Brian braced his hands on Justin’s hips, rose slowly, kissed a nipple and caressed the tight nub with his tongue.  No nipping.  This exploration would be gentle.

Justin framed Brian’s head in both hands and coaxed him up for a kiss.  Threw his arms in a tight circle around Brian’s neck, heard and felt him moan into his mouth.  Felt their bodies mesh and cocks meet and it was all too goddamned much to sustain.  He slowly turned in Brian’s arms until the heat of Brian’s body slid down his back and he could feel his balls riding on Brian’s hard shaft sliding between his thighs.

Brian leaned forward, pressing Justin with him until Justin gripped the shirt-covered rail and spread his other hand on Brian’s quad.  Brian circled an arm around Justin’s hip and closed it on his cock.  Then he took and led his own cock tip along a warm nest of hair and taut skin to a tiny spot of give…and pushed.  And groaned when the tight ring let him through and he felt the hot walls inside.  He conjured all the control he had to keep from driving full force…so good, he wanted it all at once.  But it wasn’t all about just his wants anymore.  And this new feeling was so MUCH more.

Justin cried out through a smile, eyes closed to focus on the stretch and burn of Brian pouring into him.  Slow and sexy.  Hand firm and expert on his cock.  Every erotic part of him touched by Brian and ready to respond.  Justin pulled Brian’s thigh.  Pushed back until he’d taken all Brian had before their bodies wedged together.

Then they rocked each other easy. With the exquisite rhythm that came from more than just timing, practice and familiarity.  More than the sensual high from E that sometimes fooled senses into feeling ultimate pleasure.  The sky still rumbled as flashes of heat lightning sprinted through the clouds.  The ground itself sent low vibrations from its stormy depths.  But on the edge of the rim, voices echoed across the crater in a finish that dwarfed it all.

Afterwards they held each other.  Finding a sort of peace on the barren rim.  Brian noticed hot spots take on more intense glow and reluctantly moved his hand from Justin’s bare back to the shirt on the rail.

“We’d better head back before it gets too dark.”  He handed Justin the shirt, stooped and grabbed his jeans.

Justin worked the shirt on, popped his head through the collar in time to see Brian round the edge of the rail and stand on the unprotected ledge.  “Brian, be careful!” he rifled arms through sleeves, rushed to join him, stopped when he saw the urinal action.  “You’re pissing on Pele?” he groaned, “Now we’re gonna die.  Decades from now archeologists will find our bones under layers of lava and try to carbon date if we’re related to Cro Magnon man.”

“Try Homo Sapiens,” Brian turned with jeans flapped open, gripped Justin’s shoulder and steered them behind the rail.  “Have I ever told you how captivating you are when you queen out?”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey.  You wanted me to tell you what I like about you.”

“For some demented reason, I thought I’d get a serious answer.”

Brian thought a moment, reached into his pocket, held his open palm to Justin.  “Still want it?”

Justin looked from the tube and packet, up to Brian’s eyes.  No smile.  Yeah.  I do.  His fingers raked Brian’s palm as they closed around the offer.   And he raised his chin when Brian stepped close.  Closed his eyes and felt Brian’s tongue on his mouth.  Opened to let him in, felt Brian’s hand cup his balls, rub his cock and his sigh was sealed in their lips.

Brian felt the heat of Justin’s hands on his hips, turning him to the rail.  Reformatted senses to expect a different kind of pleasure.  Like those self-indulgent times he wanted a  change, or to sample another top’s technique?  No.  It was different with Justin.  I won’t take the driver’s seat.  Or get so lost I forget you’re there.

Justin removed his shirt, dropped it beside them, tossed the condom and lube on it.  Then kissed a trail down Brian’s back, hooked the jeans and slid them down to stay on course.  Across and over the swell of Brian’s ass, to the border of his thighs, back up to the height of the crease.  Gently pressed Brian’s back until he saw Brian lean on outstretched arms against the rail, lift one foot from his jeans and take a wider stance.

Brian wet his lips, dry with breaths from Justin’s tease.  His cock was angled hard and wanting throat or ass or fucking INTO something.  Then he heard the foil rip, gasped at the fingertips under the base of his balls…drifting back and scouting, finding his hole.  Circling until he almost shouted – fucking put it IN already.  It was then that Justin’s cock drove in with perfect timing.  Slow and steady. 

Justin hissed against Brian’s back and kissed it when their bodies came together.  He was inside hot, tight tremors.  Had to start his motion.  Dropped his arms low around Brian and wrapped both hands on Brian’s cock.  Gripped and pulled it with the feeling on his own cock.  Knowing what worked best for Brian and adding that for him.  For both of them.

Fever building from the clamping, jerking on his dick timed to the push and pull inside, Brian swung one hand back onto Justin’s ass.  To ride with the waves of one who gave cock like he took it – not with detached piston action, but with heart-driven grace.  He felt Justin’s hand grab his and pull it further back.  Knew he needed more.  Slid his hand down Justin’s crack and easily pushed a finger into a hole still slick.

Justin panted through a smile against the sweat on Brian’s back, resumed his two-hand stretch and pull on Brian’s shaft.  Hips gaining force.  Going at Brian’s trigger.  Hitting the edge, driving harder – cock clenched with each forward thrust, ass reamed each retreat.

Urgent moans, balls tightening – burn so hot, the need to shoot – to fucking let go. Let GO.  Their bodies mashed together as Justin rammed a last thrust, two of Brian’s fingers hooked and pulling up his hole.  And he came loud, arching back, face to the sky. 

Brian shouted, pulsing cum past the stricture of Justin’s hold.  Quads going slightly numb, he dropped against both forearms on the rail, head drooped and vaguely aware of Justin’s slipping free, limp weight on his back, arms riding up his chest.  The pounding in his veins calmed and he stared at the fire pit.  And still couldn’t think of the right words.

Song: “Heat” by Balligomingo

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