Artemis Fowl Fan Fiction ❯ Brand New Love Story ❯ Epilogue ( Chapter 9 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

"Brand New Love Story"
Written by Sleep's Remedy
.epilogue.

Summary: Remy sets up a vacation to the beautiful vacation region of the South of France. Too bad for him, he didn't factor in that Artemis would be none too happy about being forced out into the disgustingly glaring sun.

Warnings: I put a smex scene at the end. Oh, and some swearing. Yes, swearing.

Authoress' Note: Um... This is ungodly long. And, thankfully, with this, I can finally put this series to bed. Night night, BNL. Sleep well. 3

Have I mentioned I hate the sun. I believe I have, but it bears repeating. I, Artemis Fowl the Second, hate the sun. I always have. Because, I am Irish. The Irish were never meant for the sun. That is why, my dear readers, we all live way up north in Ireland. However, for some ungodly reason, it was decided that the trip my friends and I would be having the summer of our junior year in high school would be to the beautiful sunny beaches of the South of France.

This is, of course, a wonderful choice for most any high school student. There are a lot of teenage themed shops and clubs in the larger port towns, miles and miles of soft sandy beaches, and all kinds of youth hostels, pensions, or nice cheap ocean side hotels for the low budgeted high school student to stay in. By all accounts, a fine choice. If it had been any other slightly flawed place, I probably would have won the argument against it. As you might have already guessed, I did not. I was out voted, three to one on the location voting. I wanted to go to Tokyo, but no. No, we had to go someplace affordable.

I get sun poisoning. I am none too fond of the beach.

All the same, I was still sitting out on that blindingly hot sand beside an infuriatingly happy Remy. The beach, after all, is exactly Remy's element. He loves water, tans easily (even though he has light colored hair), and never seems bothered by having sand in unsavory areas. He is deeply infuriating.

Jack and his new boyfriend, Ira, were out in the water with a ridiculously big plastic ball, bouncing the thing back and forth. I could tell from the way that Remy watched the two that he wanted to join them, but did not want to leave me alone on the beach. Even though I had not wanted to go along, the whole trip Remy had been very particular about making sure I did not feel excluded. It was endearing, but also smelled of condescension. It was not as if my little heart would just fall to pieces if he left my side for two minutes. Besides, he was making Jack's boy toy nervous.

Ira, the newest love of the most infamous Jack, was not really understanding the situation correctly. He was a smart boy, in a bookish sort of way. He was the secretary of the Student Council at school, had top grades in all of his classes and could usually be found with a weighty stack of studying books under his arm. He was a quiet and admirable young man that I did not mind spending time with at all. Truthfully, I did not understand why such a sarcastic and unmotivated man like Jack wanted a perfect student like Ira or why Ira was having him, but I supposed that it was none of my business what they did together. I am still under the impression that is how most people approach my relationship with Remy.

Ira, by the by, was also a red head. The sun was disastrous for him as well. We had not been off the train for more than an hour before I noticed his exposed freckled arms turning a light pink color. At that point, Ira's skin had turned something of a violent red and I could tell that he was pretending that was not the case. However, the fact that he kept looking longingly at the umbrella under which I was stubbornly hidden revealed to me quite obviously that he'd rather be hiding from the sun as well. But, the impending atmosphere of a double date was too strong and kept him away. It definitely felt like Remy was giving off a, “I'm trying to have a lover's moment, please back off,” vibe. I even felt it. It pissed me off.

“Hey, Artemis, are you thirsty?” Remy asked, interrupting my brooding hate-fest. I jumped slightly, and then slowly turned my head to look over my shoulder at him with a pointed glare. There he was, looking completely comfortable again. He was sprawled out on a beach towel with a simple striped design. He was only clad in a pair of bright blue trunks with a bubble decal on it. It left his washboard abs and long slender arms and legs completely exposed. Normally, that sort of thing would have been deeply attractive, but under the circumstances, it just served to send me into deeper circles of hatred instead.

I was about to tell him off, but then thought better. Ira was glancing over towards us again, not paying attention to the game of “hit the stupid beach ball”. If I could shoo Remy away, perhaps Ira would finally be able to find his respite from the vicious sun. That sunburn really did look painful.

“Sure,” I spat, but much less venomously than I would have wished I could. “But, only if you go get a bottle. I want to be able to close it,” I warned, wanting him to have to search a little before he could come back and things could get awkward again. “A Root beer.”

“I didn't know you liked Root beer,” Remy said innocently, smiling falteringly with that sad little puppy dog face that was supposed to make me feel bad for snapping at him. Though, it was not working at that time. There was too much of an edge of annoyance in his voice to sound completely convincing.

“Well, I do,” I said finally. Remy sat around waiting for more for a short while before grunting dismissively and getting up. He thought he was doing me a favor by clinging to me like a barnacle to the hull of a ship, so I supposed my attitude must have been frustrating for him. Not that I particularly cared at that point.

When Remy had finally skittered off to find that hopefully non-existent soda, I made a point of catching Ira's eye and waving him over with a faint movement. It was funny how his face lit up so much that I could see it from far back on the beach away from the spray of the surf. Ira then turned to Jack and seemed to converse quickly with him before shooting out of the water and bouncing up the hill of sand over to our little cluster of blankets and bags under the huge umbrella. With a sigh of relief, Ira plopped down beside me, and then groaned as he leaned forward and presumably stretched the burnt skin on his back.

Jack came wandering up after Ira with a much more relaxed gait.

“Where's the emergency?” he asked in a vaguely annoyed voice. I believe that he was enjoying the view of Ira having to splash, jump, and dive in the sparkling water. It was too bad that his subject of interest was not enjoying the exposure.

“Your boyfriend is about to catch on fire,” I mentioned blankly.

“Crap, you're right. Ira, you're fire engine red!” Jack cackled, finally unable to maintain his concerned demeanor. The laughing little maniac sat down beside Ira and then proceeded to poke his arm and giggle as the skin turned white at the touch and then back to its characteristic red.

“Stop being such a prick, Jack. Here, Ira,” I said, pulling a bottle of strong smelling green stuff called Aloe Vera which out of my bag which would sooth the sting of the sunburn. “Get Jack to put this on you. It helps,” I said, trying to manage my best friendly smile. I really did like Ira. He was a nice kid. Though a bit of a push over when it came to Jack. He should learn to be more forceful like yours truly.

“Ah, thank you, Artemis,” Ira said with one of those shining smiles that dazzled teachers and students alike.

“It was nothing,” I said easily. The rest of the conversation was held mostly between Jack and Ira. A little squabbling here and there amidst sighs and exclamations as to how good the stuff felt, or how cold or sticky it was. Things were going well, even felt vaguely normal, until Remy came around with an obviously hurt look on his face.

“Having a party without me?” he asked in a little heartbroken voice.

“Ah, Remy, my man, my homey-G, my dawg, you're finally here!” Jack exclaimed, cackling loudly and falling onto his back, pulling Ira down with him. It would have been adorable if Ira hadn't whined and yelped the whole way down.

But, it had the desired effect and Remy laughed and sat down next to me, pulling me obnoxiously close. Was he competing with Jack? That kind of thought started to drive me insane and I brushed off his arm, earning myself a glare and giving it right back. Ira noticed it, I could tell from the little worried quirk of his eyebrow. But, he did not say anything and instead let himself fall back into Jack's arms, pretending to have seen nothing.

An awkward silence stretched out for a little while, before Remy finally yanked me up off my bum and dragged me forth into the singing sun. “Let's go down to the water, Arty. What you got to loose?” he asked in a threatening voice.

I scoffed and truly wanted to tell him off, but I was having a hard time keeping up. He was really hauling me towards the water with all the strength he had. So, it did not take him long to get me down into the water. The freezing cold, smelly, salty water. I made quite a racket, as well. It took some creativity, but I was able to string along a rather inventive string of insults all the way to the shoreline. I was hoping to shame him into letting me go. Too bad it was Remy, otherwise my plan would have worked.

Instead, I was left standing in waist deep water with only Remy keeping me from being bowled over by waves.

“I said you are hurting my arm! Stop squeezing it!” I snarled. Finally he did, but he did not let go of me, just switched his grip to my hips instead, continuing to glare purposefully at me with those shattering blue eyes.

“What's been wrong with you? You've had a bug up your ass all day,” he said in a rather unhappy voice.

“Well, I apologize for not enjoying myself on a trip I never wanted to go on, with a guy who's far too clingy, in a place I invariably hate,” I spat back at him, still attempting to worm my way out of his grasp and back to the shore.

“Stop being so bitchy! No one's forcing you to come,” he said. It was in a very Holier-Than-Thou fashion as well.

“Then, maybe I will -.” The next part of that sentence would have been, 'just go home, then.' That is, if I hadn't been attacked by a most vicious creature. I realize that I was flailing about in the water quite a bit trying to escape from Remy's grasp and that some overzealous animal activist would have considered me the aggressor, but in my mind that jelly fish will always be in the wrong.

As my foot came down, it came down on something gooey and slimy and slipped out from beneath my foot easily. But, not before biting the underside of my foot rather viciously. A pain akin to that afflicted by a cactus assaulted the bitten area, with a powerful burning sensation following along to engulf most of my foot and lower part of my lower leg. Much to my disgrace, I let loose a pathetic cry and collapsed back against Remy, clinging to his shoulders while tucking my legs up against me, in an attempt to escape the murderous little creature that had already made its fortuitous escape.

In my mind's eye, I could see the hopelessness of the situation. The jellyfish, perceiving danger from my erratic destruction of the current and, ultimately, my physical contact with its nonthreatening bulbous upper area, had lashed out. It would have brought most of its tentacles up along the bottom side of my foot and, with the pinpoint accuracy granted it by a millennium of evolution, shot a slight pulse of electrical stimulus down the long thin appendage, releasing a volley of poison packed arrows right into the painfully sensitive area at the bottom of my foot. The bastard.

“W-what? What happened?” Remy asked hesitantly, still a little suspicious and more than a little disoriented by the sudden switch in my emotions.

I looked up into his face with shining eyes and a desperate expression. I could see his cheeks flush and his muscles twitch and tense slightly against my trembling body. For a moment, I realized how great my answer was.

“A jellyfish bit me!” I yelped.

His face fell.

Later, I found myself sitting miserably on the front porch of our little motel room, a few blocks from the sea. I was enjoying the sound of the surf breaking in the distance and the caw of seagulls overhead. The sounds blended surprisingly well with the industrial noise of cars running feverishly up and down the street and the babble of people speaking in any number of languages. Filling in the remainder of the mental image was the feel of sand being kicked up by the wind and hitting my exposed skin plaintively, lonely so far from the sea. There was the taste of salt on my lips and tongue, as well as the smell of it, mixed with fatty fried foods and gourmet dishes baking in high class ovens.

All of this was calming and beautiful, as long as I didn't open my eyes. The motel itself was a disgusting example of cheap and uneducated architecture. It was also a great example of everything that had been wrong with the tenement buildings of the industrial revolution, because that's exactly the style it was formed after. The building made a large U shape with tall walls of unadorned cement, three walls of rooms with the fourth wall being non-existent, acting as an opening for the ocean wind to blow in. If you looked out your door, you were looking directly at another dingy red door. It was depressing. But, it was cheap. That was the selling point to my esteemed friends.

I sighed and licked my dry lips once again, readjusting the ice on my foot for the millionth time. It still stung a little bit, but not near as much as before.

I looked back on the events of the last hour or so with distaste. Jack had been quick to make fun of my jelly assaulted foot and Remy did not seem to care too deeply, definitely not enough to come to my rescue. Ira seemed concerned, but in a cordial and professional way. I'm sure he thought I was over reacting a little bit.

Really, it just seemed to me that everything was compiling far too fast. I had also meant to make that vacation with Remy a wonderful one, but it had only become a lamentable disaster. From the destination, to the addition of Jack and Ira, to Remy's own behavior, everything just seemed to insist on falling to pieces.

Of course, I was not so vain as to think I was not at fault as well. I kept thinking that I should not have said this and never should have done that. But, by that point, there was not much I could do to take those things back.

Thus, I was left alone at our dumpy little motel while the other three went out to check out the boardwalk stores. Remy had promised to look for jellyfish bite remedies, but I got the feeling that he would spend more time looking at sunglasses.

Tears stung my eyes, but I brushed them away. My thoughts drifted to what would happen when we were out of school. Would we go to the same college? I had my pick of schools, but what if I wanted to go somewhere more challenging than Bradley Academy? I, obviously, could not stay with Remy forever. That went without saying. However, it put a fear in me I had never felt that Remy might have been floating away from me already, at that time. The fear weighed down, waterlogged and cold, at the bottom of my heart.

With a little hiss of pain, I slipped my sandal back on and resolved to go somewhere. The sharply shadowed depths of the motel's courtyard was not lightening my mood, so I meant to find a place sunnier and much more quaint.

I shambled down the street to the bus stop, oblivious to the strange looks all of the tanned, gorgeous beach kids were giving me, the pale, Irish, limping, emaciated youth. Once there, I was greatly relieved to see that there was a bench for me to rest at while I awaited the bus.

I only hoped that Remy, Jack, and Ira would not have the good fortune to round the corner and see me there, then accompany to my destination, or persuade me into returning to our room together with them. My hoping paid off and the bus arrived before I could be accompanied or persuaded in any way.

The bus made a large rambling circle, but eventually ended up at my destination. The bus station was conveniently positioned at the pier, where I wanted to go. There, I found my most beloved Italian lemon flavored ice cream and continued my shamble towards the inevitably hidden ladder that every pier has that leads down to the beach below. Sadly, I found this one harder to handle than most of them. It was rusted and the spray of the surf had made it slick and wet, so my sore, sandaled foot had a hard time getting a good grip..

There, under the protective cover of the huge structure above, I watched the sun set over foreign waters. It was incredibly beautiful, yet incredibly lonely. The shaved ice I had bought only kept my attention for a short time. The rest was left to brooding.

Once I started to think about the situation too much, I began to explode the gravity of the problem. We, really, were only having a small argument, but it was extremely frustrating after all the high expectations for the vacation. After thinking about it for too long, I started to both ashamed of my actions and angry at Remy's behavior. The more I brooded, the more abhorrible the idea of returning to the hotel and facing Remy seemed.

For a long time, I considered calling Butler, having him set me up in a different hotel, come pick me up in the morning, and then take me somewhere else: the ruins of Machu Pichu or Red Square. I would simply call Remy later and explain that the jelly fish bite had gotten me sick and I had gone home early. He would be angry for a time, but he would get over it and we could get back to the way it was before.

The longer I thought about it, however, the more pathetic it sounded. I, Artemis Fowl, savior and tormentor of all fairy kind, could not take a single romantic week away at the beach with friends. It was completely unbelievable.

So, with that train of thought, the only solution to my convoluted and unhelpful thoughts was to go back and work it out with Remy. Though, I compromised with myself to simply go back, not say a word about what I was feeling, and just go ahead and force myself to get over it.

It took much longer than one would think to come to this conclusion. By the time I was resolved to this, the sun had dipped below the curve of the earth and the ocean looked like it was on fire. Liquid fire. Nice oxymoron. Even I can be romantic about some things.

I checked my foot with a tentative hand, only to find that the jelly fish's venom had finally worn off and there was only a slight residue of discomfort left. It left me surprisingly light hearted to know that and it seemed that I almost floated up that rusted out ladder and to the boardwalk above. Not wanting to return to the hotel room empty handed (and expose myself as having sulked the whole time) I decided to go get something cheap and playful. I started to scan the pier and nearby boardwalk. There, I quickly found a disgustingly large arcade and hovered myself on inside.

Now, this may not be well known to many, but I, Artemis Fowl Junior, happen to be a champ at Skee-Ball. In fact, within the hour, I had enough tickets to buy myself a very strangely placed pair of handcuffs. Sadly, by the time I had gotten enough tickets to buy the handcuffs, I no longer had change for the bus.

It was no matter. My foot had stopped its incessant tingling, by that point. Thus, I had no qualms about walking back to the room. I could only imagine how upset everyone would be. If I had been more conscientious, I would have called, but I had left my cellphone on the desk in the room. Butler would have killed me if he heard that, but there was no reason for him to know something like that. Besides, I did not actually believe that I would have called anyone that night anyway.

Surprisingly, there was no one in the room when I finally returned. The door had been locked, and none of the beds had been disturbed, though there seemed to be a scattering of plastic shopping bags and change on most of the tables. From these things, I could assume only a few things. One, that they had returned and noticed I was gone. Two, they had flew around the room grabbing things and dropping things off in too much of a hurry to clean up. Three, they knew that I did not have my cellphone (it was sitting on the dresser, not on the desk where I left it). Four, they must have left to find me and locked the door knowing that I had my key.

It was a good idea to call them and let them know I was back. Better to let them get angry when they were a ways away from me, so their anger could abate a bit before they returned. It took me a while to get up the courage to call, but I eventually decided on Jack first. I would have called Ira, but I did not have his number.

However, when I had selected Jack's name and pressed the send button, all I got was his voice mail box. I left a curt message letting him know I got back to the room okay, then quickly hung up. That only left Remy.

My heart was pounding in my neck as I listened to the shrill ringing of his cellphone through the speaker pressed to my ear. It rang two, then three, four times before it finally went to his voice mail. It was his normal cheerful message. Somehow, I had thought that the message would be angry and directed at me, but I was a little illogical at that time.

Again, I left a short message saying I was back, but tacked on an apology at the end, too. For a while, I sat on the end of our bed and stared at the cellphone, willing it to ring. But, it never did. It just sat there silently. Mocking me.

Finally, I pulled the handcuffs out of my pocket and laid them on the desk near my cellphone, getting up. I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Even though I had only been at the beach for a short time that day, I could feel the sand everywhere. In my hair, pants, and every other crease it could hide in.

The only soap in the shower were the little bars wrapped in wax paper. After only a few minutes under the hard spray of warm water, the bar would snap in half in your hands, but it left you feeling clean and made my hand squeak as it slid along my thigh.

I lathered myself fully, from head to toe, and rinsed off before stepping out of the shower and toweling off. I stopped to look at myself in fogged up mirror. The bathroom was extremely small, only about two feet from the rim of the sink to the wall behind me, so I could only see myself from about the bottom of my ribcage up. I had never wondered before if Remy found me attractive. Remy was obviously handsome. I, myself, did not think of myself as ugly, but I was most definitely not the same kind of handsome as Remy. I was extremely thin and the bones of my ribcage poked out from under the pale skin of my chest. There did not seem to be any muscle mass at all on my body with the exception of some thin padding here and there, stretched between my bones and skin.

Remy had more than a smattering of musculature. His legs were firm, as was his chest and his arms. There were only a few places where bones peeked out to push against his smooth tanned skin. I could not imagine what he saw when he looked at me.

A sigh escaped my lips. It was not worth worrying about. To ask the same question of Remy would only mean a divulge of flattering, but false, praise. Though, perhaps, if I asked him once he returned to the room I would get a different kind of answer, the kind I would not enjoy hearing.

I wandered out into the bedroom with a small, thin towel wrapped precariously around my hips. I had the second drawer down in the chest of drawers closest to the bathroom and I was crouched there with the towel slowly detaching itself from around my waist as I rummaged about in the drawer for a pair of shorts and a top when I heard a click as someone unlocked the door behind me. I did not stand, nor close the drawer. I did not even let go of the tank top I had clutched in one hand. Only my head and eyes moved, as they swiveled over my shoulder to look at the door as it slowly eased open and revealed a tired looking figure in the threshold. He seemed to freeze for a moment as he saw me crouched there. We both started moving at the same time.

“What are you doing here?!” he shouted angrily, stepping forward so that some of the light from the bathroom illuminated his face, assuring me that he was Remy, even though I needed no such assurance.

“Getting dressed,” I answered shortly, standing up with the tank top still in my hand. I had meant for an edge to be in my voice, but I suppose I was unable to muster one. There was no challenge in my answer.

“What do you mea- ?! Fuck! Artemis! I've been looking all over for you!” he snapped, chucking his keys on the bed and kicking the door shut behind him. “Where have you been? What were you doing? Why did you leave without leaving a message or taking your phone? I thought you'd been kidnapped again!” he shouted, gesticulating wildly.

I flinched slightly as he mentioned the incident from last year. He knew that I hated to talk about it. It only brought up hurtful memories and, though it might have strengthened our relationship, it was still a very dark and nightmarish part of my life. It only showed how angry he was that he brought it up, hopefully, without thinking.

“I went to the pier. All of you were out having fun and my foot was feeling better. I am sorry that I forgot to bring my cellphone. It was a mistake,” I offered up lamely. It made enough sense, but it was still unconvincing. If it were true that all of it were a big misunderstanding, then I would have been extremely indignant at getting reprimanded for it. But, I was acting extremely passive. After all, I did feel that it was mostly my fault. I decided to be unhappy before we even got on the train, found fault with everything that Remy did, and still expected them all to revolve their plans around me. It was extremely selfish of me and I found myself ashamed of my actions for the first time in a long time.

While all of this was going through my head, Remy kept talking in a fast and loud fashion.

“Everywhere! I looked everywhere for you! Ira and Jack don't even know you were missing. So, this is your half-assed way of punishing me for thinking up this vacation? God forbid that I set up something nice for all of us to do. Shit, Artemis! Aren't you going to say anything?” he spat.

As I listened to his screaming, I could not help but realize that I had been completely in the wrong. I had been extremely juvenile and I started to question what in the world I was doing in a relationship if I could not even act like an adult while on vacation with Remy. I plopped, defeated, onto the bed and felt the worn springs screech in protest as they bent to accommodate my weight. I scratched the back of my head in an uncharacteristic way.

“What are we doing?” I whispered, mostly to myself. “A boyfriend? I must be insane.” The words escaped like a third party was jumping in on the berating, and it almost was just that. I was vaguely disgusted with myself, as well. But, for a different reason. It was slowly striking me that the idea of myself having a lover's tiff with a football player was ridiculous. I was the son of an infamous Mafia boss and a master of crime myself. I was a failure at human relationships, fit only to analyze them, not to participate in them. I could not even imagine what possessed me to accept Remy's proposal of a romantic relationship. It was almost like the big finish to the joke that we were both male, as well. All of it hopeless. And, after all the trials and tribulations, I would only realize this so late?

“What? What did you say?” Remy whispered back harshly. It sounded like he did not hear what I had said and thought that I had been insulting him under my breath.

A spark caught in my mind and a strange unfocused anger and irritation found root in my mind.

“I'm saying, this is not going to work,” I returned in a louder, but equally harsh, voice. “It was ridiculous to think it ever would,” my words were loosing their strength as I realized what I was proposing. “The two of us do not make any sense together,” I muttered. “Besides, you deserve someone better than I. I was never meant to be with anyone,” I added, meaning to soften the blow, but knowing somewhere within myself that the words were completely true.

I was facing away from him, so I did not see his face, but I did hear the strange gasping/choking sound that he made a moment after I finished speaking. It was deathly still and quiet for a long time. Time seemed to have skipped a beat. But, it began moving again soon, seeming to move all the faster for its moment of stagnation.

Remy leaped onto the other side of the bed and stopped just behind me on all fours.

“I don't understand you!” he shouted, a small strip of agonizing shock slipping into his syllables. “All because of some stupid little fight? Is that all it takes! I can't believe you'd just give up! Just like that! Bloody hell, Artemis.”

Remy's voice cracked at the last and his forehead fell against my damp shoulder. His short hair tickled and his breath was hot against my skin. I shivered slightly, but brushed it off on the cold air conditioning against my bare skin.

“... I do not want too,” I spoke slowly, feeling he needed more explanation. “I like you very much, even when you are being a pushy fool for love.” I smiled. “But, I have been thinking a lot today and I am just worried. I do not want to be hurt. I do not want you to be hurt and end up hating me, either. I do not really see any way of avoiding that, at this point.”

Remy was quiet for another long moment and I felt his breathing speed up against my back.

“I can't believe you're thinking like this. If you're agonizing things, you should talk to me about it. Don't make decisions on your own. Please. Please, just talk to me about it!” he yelped a little.

I did not answer. I did not know what to say. 'I am afraid we will not be able to sustain a long distance relationship in college. I do not think I am physically attractive enough to keep you once other boys start to throw themselves at you. We are very different and what happens when the fights are more intense if I can not handle this? Other people do not understand us. Will I have to explain why we love each other until the end of time? When will this unease go away?'

Remy seemed to get impatient in waiting for my answer. He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and slipped his hands up along my sides until they were braced underneath my arms. He then anchored my body against his chest and threw me down against the bed so that I was lying on my stomach, my face resting in the pillow and he was lying on my back, his forehead against the back of my neck.

“Don't. Don't go,” he muttered against the shell of my ear.

I pushed myself up on my elbows and Remy accommodated this movement by getting upon his elbows as well. I thought I saw a shimmer in his eyes, so I immediately lowered mine. I meant to say something firm. Something tragically decided and unmovable. But, I could not bring myself to say it. To think of leaving Remy was too sad, too terrifying. During that darkest chapter of my life, he had been there and it had been him that had brought me back to life. I could not imagine myself being where I was without him there to help me. No matter how uneasy I was, it was still too big, too extreme.

“No. Do not worry. I could not do such a thing. I was just scared for a moment,” I muttered. I could not bring myself to watch his eyes for the sake of that threatening shimmer I had seen the moment before, so I compromised and watched his mouth. It worked hesitantly. Once or twice it seemed to open, ready to say something, only to think better of it and stop just a second before the sound could come. Then, he seemed to make a split second decision.

Before I could make any movement to the contrary, Remy smashed his lips against mine in a way that threatened to chip teeth and bruise gums. My arms slipped out from under me and his were automatically there, between the mattress and my back. My hands reached up around his shoulders to tangle in his tousled hair and feel the grain of the sand in the roots near his scalp. He sucked roughly on my lower lip until it throbbed and I jumped up to nip playfully at his lips, but missed and hit his nose.

It was all very intense. All of the anger, love, resentment, and fear came out in a big rush, not to mention all those lurking little feelings hiding in the gulches in between. Things were advancing wonderfully, in hindsight. Remy and I had never gone down the road of rough and fevered coitus before, but the more forceful Remy acted, the more insistent I became.

That is, until Ira and Jack decided to make their fateful entrance. Ira came in first and was the one to catch our attention, being that he made a little gasp before stumbling backwards over Jack, who peeked in over Ira and uttered a little 'oops' before hauling Ira and the door out and closed. I, in consequence collapsed back into the mattress, the mood ruined, while Remy slapped a tensed fist into the pillow and let out a string of cuss words.

“I'll be RIGHT back!” Remy yelped before jumping off the bed and shooting outside, grabbing his wallet as he left.

I sat up slowly and scratched my head a little, feeling how the hair stuck up in just about every conceivable direction. Looking down, I noticed that my thinly starched bath/hand towel that had been stretched around my hips had fallen away to leave me fully nude. At first, I reached to quickly cover up, but then I was struck by a miraculously wonderful idea.

Up until that particular point, Remy and myself had only had the proper and professional sex of unpracticed newlyweds. But, that rough and angry foreplay had made me curious as to what other kinds of sex were open to us.

Hurriedly, I retreated into the bathroom and turned on the water, mixing hot and cold so that it was still extremely warm, but not scorching. I decided that some cover was better than no cover at all and took the towel that had previously fallen off and tied it loosely around my hips again, this time making sure the knot was right above my thigh, were it would peek out when I walked and pushed the towel lower on my hips so that the bones of my hips stuck out. I poked at my ribs and decided not to think about my absence of muscles. It was the same as when I took a bath before. It was not worth thinking about. After all, it was not as if I were going to sprout the musculature of an athlete in the next few minutes, so there was little point in worrying over it.

Eventually, I heard the door click as Remy, presumably, re-entered the room. There was a pause as he took in the fact that I was missing and that the shower was running. I had myself perched at the edge of the sink with my legs open a little and the heel of my hands on the sink to balance myself.

When Remy opened the door, I realized that I did not really know what else I was supposed to do. I had seen enough James Bond movies to know that the woman in said movie usually would look up at Mr. Bond from the hot tub and smile seductively from beneath her long eyelashes. However, I hardly thought it would work out that well coming from me. So, instead, I ended up smiling awkwardly and saying something along the lines of, “Care for a bath?”

In that strange way Remy seemed to move so fast when he was very focused, I suddenly found myself in another fevered kiss. This one was a little different from the one on the bed. I was a little rough and definitely full of emotion and desperation, but it was also loving and kind and I was not quite so insistent this time, though I was enjoying myself. Remy was between my legs kissing me from below so that I had the upper hand. I had my hands on his jawbone and neck, tracing the lines there with a finger. Soon, Remy was lifting me up off of the counter and I wrapped my legs around his waist so that we could continue to kiss while he walked the step or two to the shower and put me down. The kiss still continued as he reached around me to tear open the curtain into the little tile shower stall. He broke the kiss for a minute to bend down and tuck an arm around my bottom before lifting me up. I buried my face in his hair and he showered my collarbone with kisses as we both entered the warm spray of the water.

Remy trapped me against the cool tile wall and kissed me passionately while ripping off the little towel around my waist. He broke the kiss for a short second while he tore off his shirt and tossed it into a far corner. Copper tasting water escaped into my mouth as Remy engaged me in another kiss, this one open mouthed, while his hands roamed my body wildly. His hips ground into mine and I growled into our kiss as I felt his need and he felt mine.

By then, we were already sliding to the floor, still constantly touching, rubbing, and kissing one another in a frantic mess of limbs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Remy loosening his pants until they hung limp and unenthusiastic on his hips. In the next instant, his hands had wandered below my waist and I had to break our frantic kissing to moan loudly and toss my head back. Not a smart idea, being that the back of my head hit the tile wall behind me with a loud crack, but I do no believe that Remy heard it, since he continued in his ministrations.

His hands were firm and demanding and his hips inched towards mine with the predatory advance of a tiger stalking its prey.

“Ah, Remy,” I know I muttered to him at some point. Remy had his lips locked to the juncture of my neck and shoulder, kissing and sucking with purpose while his fingers dipped inside with the help of the water all around us. By this point, I had gotten rather used to this and it only took a few minutes of fondling before I was pushing myself onto his fingers and mewling in Remy's ear, asking for more. A little worrisome, yes, about my manhood, but when you're that close to orgasm, pride tends to go out the window.

Remy was not one to make me wait, and he immediately complied with my pleadings. He pushed up inside of me, using my own bodyweight as leverage to get deeper inside. His heat inside of me was intense and for a moment it felt as if I was feeling every drop of water hitting my skin while in the ecstasy of the moment.. Finally, I settled and was able to look down into Remy's eyes.

They were an intensely clear blue. They shone and they were affixed specifically on me. He looked like I was the only thing in the world he could see at the moment and that thought filled me with a different kind of heat.

I smiled down at him.

“Good vacation,” I muttered.