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The only warning Andrew gets of the incoming chaos is the slapping of feet on pavement and a scream of “Whoop!” bare seconds before water splashes against his overheated skin. He tries to rescue his latest read, but as he blinks water from his eyes and pushes his soggy hair off his forehead he finds he has failed, again. Andrew mourns the unknown ending — even though he could probably guess it, or look it up, but that’s not the point — as yet another book is lost to collateral damage of Neil’s over-enthusiastic island joy: poolside cannonballs.
Andrew looks over at Neil nonplussed, but his auburn-haired menace only smiles and beckons with one finger and Andrew goes to him; he has no other choice. Every cell of his body is at Neil’s beck and call, and they’re only a couple days into their annual island visit. He gets unfettered access to Neil and his smiles for only two guaranteed months of the year, so it’s never been worth it to pretend that he doesn’t want every inch Neil will give him. Andrew settles down at the edge of the pool, dangling his legs in the water and running his fingers through Neil’s curls after he floats over to nestle between Andrew’s legs.
“Sorry about the book,” Neil offers, resting his head against Andrew’s thigh as he lets his body float lazily in the water.
“I’ll buy a new one after dinner,” Andrew says instead of what he’s thinking. No, Neil isn’t truly sorry, but Andrew wouldn’t want him to be. The island is an oasis where they all get to be themselves, unabashedly, unrestricted, and Andrew would never dream of taking that away from Neil over a book.
Andrew sees Kevin’s shadow before he notices the man himself and he tips his head up, hoping for a kiss even if he won’t ask for one. He gets his wish because Kevin is soft when they’re on the island; his smiles are easy, his voice is gentle, and his kisses are frequent. Kevin slips into the water beside them and kisses Neil on the forehead before he starts doing laps, but he only lasts a few rounds before Neil drags them all into a bastardized water version of Exy that takes over their afternoon.
—
Andrew walks down the small main street on the island bookended by his boys as he shoves a straw into the coconut in his hand, slurping obnoxiously at the sweet milky insides. He never feels the need to watch his back on the island, a defensive mechanism that Andrew thought was hardwired into his very being until the first year they’d spent here. It helps when he knows everyone they pass, he knows their names and their stories and their families, and knowing them all front to back makes them understandable, uniquely unremarkable, just another inhabitant in their refuge. They aren’t a threat. The only threat here is the too pale skin of his arms.
Neil wanders off halfway through their daily stroll, and Andrew only notices how long he’s gone because he’s finished his coconut and started on Kevin’s, who, being the captain of the fun police, hates more than a couple sips of sweet things. Not that Andrew is complaining, because two coconuts a day is ideal, even if he wouldn’t buy two for himself.
Neil catches up to them before they hit their usual lunch spot, three books tucked under his arm. One to replace the one he’d drowned, one as a gift, and one as potential tribute to the fates of his splashing whims.
—
Andrew is woken from his nap by Kevin who is blocking his sun. He’s holding a bottle of sunscreen in one hand and an enticingly pink drink in the other and Andrew has to fight to keep the glare on his face as he tips his head up towards his monstrously tall boyfriend.
“Just drink your drink and I’ll be done in a flash and you can go back to dozing,” Kevin says, cajoling Andrew in the ways he knows best. The drink even has one of those blasted tiny paper umbrellas in it that Andrew refuses to admit he enjoys, so he only grumbles a little before acquiescing.
It’s entirely self indulgent, and Andrew basks in the feeling of Kevin’s strong fingers rubbing sunscreen into his calves and back and shoulders. The inexplicable urge to purr in satisfaction like a cat has Andrew reevaluating his entire existence for a moment, but that’s a lot of effort for sleepy, tipsy island brain, so instead he just rolls over when Kevin finishes one side and tries not to preen in happiness as Kevin finishes coating him in sun repellent. He’s contemplating going back to sleep, or coercing Kevin into getting him another fruity something, when Neil walks out of the open living room with a tray of drinks in one hand and a speaker in the other.
“Time for a dance party,” Neil announces enthusiastically, plopping the speaker down on the one table they’ve left safe from any potential splash zones and gravitating over to Kevin and Andrew, his hips swaying side to side and the drink tray tipping precariously.
Andrew downs one shot, and then two, and then he’s being pulled gently in between his boyfriends, Kevin’s hands on his waist and Neil’s waist in his hands as they sway and shimmy and float to the rhythm of the island and the music on the breeze. Pulled this way and that by the bass and the burning trickle of booze in their veins. The music jams along behind them, one song blurring into another, guitar strings twanging and maracas shaking and bluesy singers going, “on an island in the sun, hip-hip.” They switch around more than once, and Andrew and Neil try not to laugh whenever Kevin ends up in the middle of them as they fumble for places to put their hands without running into the other person they can’t see behind Kevin’s height.
It’s a wonderful way to spend an afternoon, and when Andrew can’t sleep that night — because sometimes the demons still haunt him, even on the island — Neil pulls them back out onto the pool deck under the moonlight and they sway to the rhythm of the waves against the shore and the hum of crickets on the wind.
—
“Try this,” Andrew demands, pinching a piece off his newest muffin recipe and shoving one bite into Neil’s mouth and another into Kevin’s while they watch yet another rom-com on the couch, rain splattering against the full glass wall they had to close in deference to the storm. Neil had hoped they could ride it out without cutting themselves off from the outdoors — he’s a junkie for the smell of the storm on the wind — but the damp towels piled along the floor are testament to the immediate failure of that plan.
“A little too sweet,” Kevin replies when his mouth isn’t full, even as he tips his head back and opens his mouth like a baby bird, silently begging for another bite. Andrew complies, of course.
“Too tart,” Neil contradicts, although he doesn’t say no to a second bite either.
“Perfect combination, then,” Andrew determines, ignoring both of their protests as he heads back to the kitchen. If he ever gets Neil and Kevin to agree on the perfection of a baked item, he’ll have reached Nirvana, but since that’s not something he realistically believes will happen, he’ll settle for both of them asking for seconds. Andrew eats the second half of the muffin himself, trying to decide how he can balance out the extremely unhelpful feedback he’s received from his test subjects. In times like this, he wishes Aaron was here, his twin always had a knack for knowing how to tweak his recipes, but the island getaway was for boyfriends only. He could see his twin any time he wanted when he got back to reality.
Andrew settled for soaking whatever variety of fruit he’d picked up in a sugar solution — he probably should remember the name, but he likes making decisions based solely off of texture and flavor instead of whatever misconceived notion he may get from the name itself — and removing the sweet crumble topping for his next batch, Neil’s acerbic decimation of their current movie choice a comedic backdrop as he measures and washes and stirs and watches the oven. He doesn’t know what fruits Maria bred together to get the current purple colored orange-like fruit he’s working with, but he idly starts concocting a pie recipe for it next. If it turns out, maybe he can bring her one when the rain stops to thank her for the new ingredients.
—
Andrew trudges into their island home, clothes damp and feet soaked through even in his sandals, the third day of constant rain leaving him looking, and feeling, like a drowned rat. He’d risked the outdoors in search of food because they’d run out of the groceries they bought at the beginning of their stay and hadn’t felt up to braving their usual cafe for lunch or dinner due to the storm. The rain always makes Neil and Kevin’s joints ache, their professional athletes’ bodies having taken more of a beating than Andrew’s when he bowed out after only five years to get his law degree. They’re reasonably past the age of retirement at this point, but Andrew wouldn’t be surprised if they kept going until something physically took them out of the game by force; they both love the game too much to walk away, and they’re still far too talented to be a liability to their teams.
He looks for his boys as he slips through the house, finding traces of them in the rooms he passes, but missing the sounds of Neil’s laughter and Kevin’s dry wit, until he ends up in their third floor bedroom suite and finds them both tucked into the California King fast asleep. It’s the work of seconds to shuck off his damp clothes, ruffle a towel through his wet hair, and slip into the bed with them.
He’d brought home some of the local granny’s medicinal tea to help with Neil and Kevin’s aches, but as the warmth of the covers and his boyfriend’s body heat soaks into his chilled skin, Andrew thinks he deserves a nap. Tea can always wait until later.
—
Andrew has been back in his dreary Boston apartment for barely a week and he’s already sick of it. The apartment isn’t truly dreary; the sun shines brightly through the windows, his plants welcome him into every room with green leaves and soft pink flowers and small new growth shoots he wasn’t here to witness starting. Renee has taken perfect care of his personal jungle, just like she always does, but even that joy is diminished in comparison to the bliss that was two months away with Neil and Kevin. He’s looking at another six before he can reliably see either one of them again for longer than an hour here or there, and he hates that he already misses it desperately. Misses them so thoroughly that he’s thinking of turning around and getting on a plane to see one of them.
A harsh knock on his door draws him out of his melancholic revelry, and Andrew pulls himself away from the window he was staring out to answer. He’s expecting Aaron, or even Renee, both of which make a point of checking in on him frequently after the island getaway each year. Instead he’s bowled over by Neil before he can barely get the door open. He catches Neil easily, holding him to his chest as if his iron grip will keep him from having to walk away ever again.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, both to Neil and over his head to Kevin who follows him in the door and closes them into the sanctuary of Andrew’s apartment.
“We’re here for you,” Kevin answers, his easy smile from just a week ago only barely noticeable in the pull of his lips.
“Not that I’m not glad you’re here, but you’re supposed to be at summer practice. Your season starts in a week,” Andrew replies, even as he still holds onto Neil, arms wrapped snugly around his waist.
“No, Andrew, we’re here for you,” Neil repeats, pulling out of his hug just enough to look him in the eyes, as if that will make heads or tails of that statement.
“As in forever. We’ve decided not to go back,” Kevin says, a soft smile finally slipping onto his face.
“We just got the approval from on high yesterday. The rookies deserve a chance, besides my knee never would have lasted the season anyways,” Neil adds in, the two switching off seamlessly, and Andrew’s eyes bounce between them like a ping pong ball.
“So, we got straight on a plane, and now we’re here.”
“Can we stay?”
It’s only out of sheer will power that Andrew doesn’t break down crying. He thinks about it, for a total of five seconds, which is four seconds longer than he has since he was six years old, and eventually decides it isn’t worth it. This isn’t a time for tears, even though his entire body is tingling and his brain is buzzing and both Neil and Kevin are staring at him smiling waiting for words to come out of his mouth.
“We’re going to need a bigger apartment,” he finally manages, and proceeds to ignore Neil as he cackles by hiding his head in Kevin’s shoulder.
Realistically, he knows this will be different than their getaways. Andrew has a full time job, he has a twin, and a nephew, and friends that will demand portions of his time (namely Jeremy and Renee). Kevin and Neil will have to get jobs, or hobbies, or something to entertain themselves with on a day by day basis as they clearly didn’t need the money even after a substantial cut had been taken by the Moriyamas. Somehow, his apartment still feels like their island though, safe and joyful and full of sun.
A life Andrew didn’t know he’d been dreaming about until he had it in front of him, because he’d hidden it away in the recesses of his brain, still scared that he wouldn’t get that magical happy ending.
Maybe, he thinks idly as Neil and Kevin make trips down to get their bags — apparently they’d literally packed up their lives and flew across the country without a second thought — maybe he gets to keep this. So, instead of helping move things around to make space for his two new roommates, Andrew plops down on the couch and pulls over his laptop and starts searching for the house that will be their new, realistic, city version of their island home.