Jet lag is a bitch.
It was only five AM, and David had already been awake for over an hour. There was only so much that even Xanax could do when your body thought it was one pm in the afternoon- yesterday. He’d been scrolling through his phone in the dark, checking out what his friends in New York had been doing in the past twenty-four hours it had taken him and Sebastien to fly here. Thank God the family jet was available. Even first-class commercial wasn’t going to cut it when you had to fly for twenty-four hours to your destination.
He looked across the bed at his boyfriend. Not that they had DTR, but after 3 months, it was definitely more than dating. They were entwined together. They were a team. He had come along to support Sebastien for his job, leaving his gallery in the hands of his assistant. I mean, Keisha was amazing, he trusted her no question, so that wasn’t an issue, but still, they were travelling to the other side of the world. Sebastien needed his emotional support for this job, he had said, “Your presence is the substructure underpinning the innovatory nature of my artistic vision.” Thankfully, he’d grown up around Moira Rose, otherwise, he might have needed a translator to work out that he was basically saying David was his muse.
However, somehow Sebastien was still asleep. Perhaps that’s because he’d been awake for about three days before they arrived. That man could do blow like nobody’s business. Thankfully, David had a great relationship with their dealer; in fact, probably the longest relationship he’d ever had if you didn’t count Alexis. He knew him well enough to know the cocaine he sold was pure and safe. I mean sure, it wasn’t cheap, but David was happy to know that Sebastien wasn’t going to die because he was snorting drain cleaner, or whatever. That was another reason the private jet was helpful. They wouldn’t have been able to bring as much blow into the country as Sebastien was going to need if they’d flown commercial. Without some substantial bribes, anyway. He didn’t want to risk buying it from people he didn’t trust and he still didn’t really trust Australians.
David had pretty much given up cocaine, and most other party drugs. Well, not when he went out drinking obviously, because, well, nobody needed messy David after six cosmos and a few polar bear shots. Everybody needed him upright at the end of the night to sign the tab. But he was sick of getting photographed by the tabloids sloppy, or with his eyes looking like saucers at four am stumbling out of a club. So yes, a tiny bump…. A bumpette, if you will, was fine, to stop him from becoming a sloppy drunk. But after that, he stuck to prescription medication, prescribed to him, only. Nothing illegal, thank you very much.
Listening to Sebastien snuffle in the dark he suddenly became aware of the brightness of the room shifting around him. A small sliver of golden light crept into the room through a tiny crack where the curtains were supposed to meet, falling softly on the dark walnut floorboards between the bed and the ensuite. David realized that this was probably the only chance he would get to do this, so he opened the balcony door as quietly as he could manage and snuck out of the enormous suite they were sharing.
In the peaceful bliss of the predawn, he sat in the rattan lounge on the balcony and watched the sun commence its journey to daylight; rising over the Pacific Ocean and sending a golden luminosity over Bondi beach. It was stunning. Other than the sounds of seagulls squawking up and down the beach, there was no-one else around. Orange streaks of sunlight were peeking over the water, glistening over the ocean, beginning their dance with the waves. The ocean pool below the hotel was aquamarine and contrasted against the yellow light.
David knew there was very little chance he would be awake to see it again. They were only here for a week. The only other opportunity he’d get to see it would probably be at the end of a hard night partying and then he wouldn’t be sober enough to care about it or even remember it later.
He and Sebastien had arrived last night, landing around eleven pm. Even with priority, it still took forever to get out of the airport and then into their town car. It was midnight before they even checked in. Sebastien had been specifically requested to photograph some pop princess that was headlining the Mardi Gras party.
David could admit that he had always wanted to come to Sydney Mardi Gras. Sure, it was no New York Pride, but it was still a pretty big deal. Sydney had a massive queer community. The idea of partying the night away and being able to lie on the iconic Bondi Beach to recuperate in between the night’s festivities had always appealed to him. He had seen the photos of those lifeguards at the beach… he might be in a serious relationship with Sebastien, but it couldn’t hurt to look, right? And he planned to spend some time doing just that.
Movement caught his eye and he looked down at the ocean pool that lay right beneath the hotel. The morning had barely broken, but there was enough light now to see that someone had rippled the top of the water. They must have dived in. David couldn’t understand what would possibly give anyone the urge to dive into a swimming pool voluntarily at five am in the morning. He was sure it wouldn't be pleasant. Although, even when they arrived last night it had been pretty muggy. The humidity would kill him if it stayed like this. Surely it couldn’t stay like this, it was the end of February which meant it was the end of summer here, right? He had to admit that swimming would be the perfect foil to his overall stickiness.
As the man resurfaced and started swimming, David noticed he was wearing an obnoxious red and yellow speedo, which, ew… but then his arms started moving out of the water and David realized he was doing freestyle laps of the pool. David was mesmerized. The man’s arms were strong and muscly, moving slowly and confidently through the water. As his body peeked out to turn at the end of each lap of the pool, he caught glimpses of very sturdy shoulders. Hmmm, delicious. He watched the man swim, turn and repeat for a while, enjoying the bliss of his repetitive and calming actions; it was almost meditative. David watched him for so long, he didn’t realize the sun was above the horizon until the glare coming off the water hit him with full force. He went inside to find his sunglasses, noting that miraculously, Sebastien was still asleep, and headed back out to the balcony.
With his sunglasses firmly in place, he returned to leaning on the balustrade watching the swimmer, only to notice the pool was empty, ripples moving slowly and reflecting the early light. He scanned around the immediate area and noticed a trail of wet footprints leading to… bingo! Oh yes. There he was, and oh my god, he did not disappoint; he was even hotter out of the pool. David watched the man run his towel down his legs, and even from this safe distance, David noticed his thighs were like tree trunks. Then the man stood up, flinging his towel around his shoulders, rubbing his back with the towel between his two hands. As David ogled the muscles in the man’s biceps rippling in his methodical approach to drying himself, he seemed to look up at David and pause his routine. Surely, the man hadn’t noticed him? He guessed it wasn’t that far between him and the pool, but he probably looked like he was just watching the sunrise, right?
David pulled himself away from the railing he was leaning on and lifted his arms up in a stretch, moving his eyeline to the horizon and giving himself an excuse to move. He kept one eye on the swimmer, who hadn’t resumed drying himself –he just stood still like he had become stuck somehow. David didn’t like the idea that the guy might be watching him, so he nonchalantly wrapped his arms around himself and headed back indoors.
Deciding that he might as well try and get a few more hours sleep before hitting the pool – it wasn’t like Sebastien was emerging from his coma-like state any time soon. He crept back into bed cautiously, trying not to cause the bed to dip or shake. Sebastien really didn’t like to get disturbed when he was sleeping. He had been more temperamental than usual lately and while David was used to melodramatic artists, he was really hoping for a more relaxed holiday where they could…. Reconnect.
It had been a magical summer for Patrick. He’d always fantasized about leaving Canada behind, swapping the rural snowdrifts for the golden sands and sunshine. Watching all his friends and family back home dealing with snowstorms and below-freezing temperatures on social media had made him appreciate his decision to take a break from home a great deal. And the ocean. He was really enjoying the ocean. The lakes around Toronto were beautiful and calming, but the Pacific Ocean with its power and beauty was something else, it couldn’t be held back. It was a force to be reckoned with.
Patrick also loved doing the early shift at Icebergs. He had early access for daylight-breaking solo laps of the most stunning ocean pool he’d ever seen. He loved diving in to the salt water pool to start his laps, it was the first step to waking up for the day. The laps were like meditation. Watching the light change around him while he was swimming was captivating. Getting out of the pool in the peace of the early morning gave him a warm satisfaction to his core. If he timed it right (and being Patrick, he timed it right most mornings), he was able to grab a quick bite to eat and some tea at the club before the patrons started rolling in at six am.
He was the only guard on duty between six and nine in the morning, when the pool was filled with serious lap swimmers, and the biggest issue he had to deal with was one person not approving of the speed that somebody else was doing in their lap lane. After nine, he had a colleague on shift with him and although he had to deal with the social swimmers until lunchtime, it was usually just the locals and Iceberg’s members and the occasional hotel guest. It didn’t usually get that busy until the afternoon.
One of the most important parts of his move to Sydney, was that it had allowed him to explore his new lifestyle without any baggage.
Sydney was a queer mecca. Patrick had arrived at the beginning of November, managing to snag a job at Icebergs as a lifeguard, which was a club house and cafeteria for the two beachside ocean pools that sat on the iconic Bondi Beach. He also found a room in a massive share house halfway up the hill to Bondi Junction. There were six bedrooms in the early federation style house, and it was filled with a whole family of queer friends that had helped him hit the ground running. The house was big and well cared for but unrenovated, so it didn’t cost a bomb.
It was an eye-opening time for Patrick. Especially his quick and easy friendship with his housemate Hamish, who was the same age as him but had been out virtually since he could speak. He was like a check-list for gay stereotypes; camp and bitchy as hell and he even did drag at the Colombian. Patrick was a regular for his shows as it was so much fun. He loved the atmosphere and the opportunities to pick up. Patrick always did well at the Colombian. His Canadian earnestness made men want to ravish him and he used it to his advantage. With a bit of encouragement from Hamish, he now understood what he was working with.
He’d been enjoying being out in Sydney. He didn’t even need to officially come out, he just turned up and started sleeping with men, and there was nobody here to question if that was how it had always been. It had given him the confidence to be everything he wanted to be, without anything holding him back. He could be carefree in a way he was sure he would never have been at home. It didn’t matter how many men he slept with; he was never seeing them again once he left. So, when they all started talking about Mardi Gras, Patrick knew he’d be staying for the whole festival and then moving on before winter hit. His job was also only a contract until the end of March so it worked out perfectly.
Patrick pulled himself out of the pool after his refreshing swim, feeling ready to face the day. As he was drying himself off, mind empty and calm, he happened to look up and he noticed he was being watched. There was a hotel guest about three floors up on his balcony, watching him dry himself off. He froze, he wasn’t used to seeing anyone until he got inside to see Rita and Dot at the cafeteria. The man must have noticed him and he reached up into a stretch, moving his eyes to the horizon. He was long and lean and very dark-haired, which Patrick had to admit, was definitely his type. He looked pretty good from a distance, and there was something familiar about him. Patrick hoped he might come down to the pool today, and he would get a chance to check him out up close.
Wrapping his towel around his waist, he walked into the club to get breakfast.
As much as David wanted to, he could not sleep. Lying in bed next to his comatose boyfriend just wasn’t working for him. He was hungry, but sitting in the room trying to quietly eat room service wasn’t appealing. They had booked a suite, and while it was large with all the amenities you’d expect of a suite, it was still just one big room. He decided to go down to the hotel buffet breakfast, then head straight out to check out the pool, and maybe he’d find that gorgeous swimming man there.
He got up, pulled on his black Tom Ford slim-fit swim trunks, a white fitted tee, and grabbed his beach towel, sunscreen, and large white framed sunglasses, stepping into his Gucci slides and heading out of the room, closing the door oh-so-quietly behind him. While he definitely wished Sebastien was awake, so they could spend a romantic morning together down at the pool, he did not want to be the one to wake him.
David walked into the hotel dining room, and while the buffet spread was excellent, he decided to go light before going downstairs to swim; coffee, fruit salad, yoghurt. And a few rashers of bacon. Protein was a good idea, right? Sebastien had noticed he had put on a few pounds over the winter in New York and he didn’t want to have those on show when he was lying poolside.
It was barely eight am by the time he got into the pool area. It was already 27 degrees, if the temperature gauge on the digital clock hanging on the wall of the clubhouse was to be believed. Sheesh, how hot was it going to get today? He started dropping his stuff onto one of the empty white lounges by the pool. Now that the sun had completely risen, he could see it was spectacular. The aquamarine water of the pool glistened, offset by the ocean behind it, and the waves were crashing on the beach, marking time in an irregular fashion.
After taking in the spectacular view, he scanned around the pool. People seemed to be doing laps. The long pool, directly to the front of the hotel was full of people swimming up and down, with various degrees of capability and varying strokes. And standing over them was the swimmer from earlier, with a red peaked cap sitting awkwardly on his head to match the ridiculous red swimming trunks he was now wearing, Icebergs emblazoned across the bum in yellow. A flash of a memory rattled through David’s jet-lagged brain. Red and yellow were the colours of a lifeguard’s uniform… of course! That’s why he was wearing the hideous Speedos this morning in the pool. The swim shorts covered up his tree trunk thighs, which was disappointing but it didn’t stop David from remembering exactly what was going on underneath them.
David removed his shirt and sat down on a pool lounge, which were all empty at this early hour, and his eyes didn’t stray from the man. He watched him from behind his massive sunglasses while he rubbed sunscreen all over his chest and legs, wondering what he would have to do to get his attention. The man must have sensed he was being watched, as he turned around a little; just a quick half spin. Then came the double-take. David smirked and raised an eyebrow. Yes. He’d been noticed.
Patrick took a double-take. Yes, that was the man from this morning for sure. Tall, dark, and lean. With the quirk of that thick eyebrow and that smirk, Patrick knew the other man was interested; his face gave everything away. Great. He just couldn’t move too far away from the edge of the pool; he was on duty after all. He just had to wait for the man to come to him.
David watched as the man went back to overseeing the pool. He guessed that was his job and he wasn't really allowed to move too far away. It didn't matter. He was only here to look. Sebastien and he were exclusive. The man leaned over to talk to somebody who was in the pool, and Jesus, that ass was delicious. He guessed if swimming lengths of the pool worked to keep him this toned and fit, he could have conceptual understanding of why he did it. It would never be something he would do, but he was here for the rewards it reaped. The man squatted to get closer to the person he was talking to in the pool, and David got the opportunity to see those thighs in a crouching position. He'd love to see those thighs on his chest while he fucked into his mouth. Mhmm, what a delightful train of thought; a train of thought he had to change quickly. He was in danger of being more than a little turned on, and that would be inappropriate considering the size of his swim trunks.
The man stood up and walked halfway up the length of the pool, keeping an eye on everyone. Then he turned and walked back. This gave David the opportunity to check out his pecs and his abs, that were definitely defined, but still a little soft, which he liked better anyway – it was comforting. The man glanced his way and smiled at him, raking his eyes down his body, seemingly appraising David’s attributes in the same way he had been taking him in. David preened under the attention, smiled back at the handsome lifeguard, and was about to get up and go chat with him when…
"David, there you are." Sebastien leaned over and kissed him. David stilled and glanced up at Sebastien. He was surprised to see him to be sure, and his eyes darted quickly back to the lifeguard and he watched the man’s smile drop. Sebastien looked around and spotted the sexy lifeguard that David was now watching. "You. You work here?" he called out in a lazy but still patronizing tone.
"Me?" The lifeguard held his hand up to his chest with a look of shock on his face, looking around as if Sebastien might be talking to someone else.
"Yeah, we are going to need another lounge over here, so I can lie next to my boyfriend. And organize some drinks… I need coffee," Sebastien said with a complete lack of self-awareness while scratching his toned belly underneath his ratty t-shirt, a flash of his six-pack being visible.
David was going to die. He was waiting for the ground to open up directly beneath him and swallow him whole. He was mortified. “Oh, no, Sebastien, that's not… he's not…" He started to say, shaking his head slightly, when he heard the most gleeful, wholehearted belly laugh, and turned around to see the lifeguard almost doubled over with mirth. David wanted to disappear into his chair.
"Yeah, that's not happening," Patrick said, placing his hands on his hips as he raised his eyebrow at Sebastien, letting the smile fall from his face. What an arrogant tool. He looked over at the gorgeous man he’d been checking out and was pleased to see that he at least looked mortified by his boyfriend's behaviour; head hung low, not looking at Patrick anymore. But seriously, if that was his boyfriend then he was not wasting his time there, gorgeous or not.
The douche canoe kept talking. “Is there a manager I can talk to about your attitude? What sort of service staff laughs at their guests?” He pulled himself up tall, trying to make himself seem larger, he was obviously filled with self-importance and arrogance. “I could get you fired!”
“Mate. I’m a lifeguard. I work for the club and I’m here to ensure the safety of members and their guests. I’m not here to be at the beck and call of wealthy hotel….. patrons.” Patrick turned back to the pool. He’d had enough of that conversation. He wasn’t getting any further into it. What an unfortunate ending to what was shaping up to be a lovely session of checking out a new guest, and what he was hoping might lead to some flirting to distract him for the day. Hands clasped together in front of him he watched the other guests swimming laps until his heart rate settled. When he finally looked over his shoulder, he found that the two gorgeous but arrogant guests were gone.
“Sebastien, he’s a lifeguard! He’s not hotel staff. He belongs to that little Icebergs club. The pool is theirs. They just allow the hotel guests to use it.” David tried to reason with his stubborn boyfriend as they walked back into the building to get into the lift to the hotel.
“Whatever, David. We won’t be going back there again!” Sebastien exclaimed, waving him off haughtily.
“Are you kidding me!? I literally booked this hotel for access to that pool. It’s one of the most exquisite examples of an ocean pool, anywhere in the world, and I am not giving up on it because you don’t understand the job of a lifeguard!” David stomped half a step behind him, throwing his arms around as he talked.
“He was a tedious example of how déclassé the Australians can be. They lack elegance and charm of any kind.” Sebastien said, still sounding like he was not bothered by anything that was happening.
“Mhmm, I’m not really sure he was Australian, actually. That accent seemed a little North American to me.” David said with a small smile that he knew Sebastien wouldn’t notice. He couldn’t help but think about the man and his thick thighs leaning over the pool.
“Whatever, David. Are we going to eat breakfast, or should we just go back to the room so we can fuck before I go to my initial meeting with the P.A. of that little singing star I’m supposed to photograph?”
“Sure, let’s fuck Sebastien. I may as well get some benefit out of your little poolside display,” David rolled his eyes. He knew one thing; when Sebastien was wound up, he could be counted on to fuck David hard. And he if he still had the image of that lifeguard’s thighs in his mind while he was getting pounded by his arrogant boyfriend, all the better for David.
Patrick could hear the strains of Gloria Gaynor pumping through the house when he turned the lock after returning from his morning at the club. He followed the music to Hamish’s bedroom and rapped on the door. The music stopped and after a little shuffling, the door swung open to find Hamish in a skin-tight tank top, very short loose short shorts, and a pair of death-defying platform heels.
“Rehearsing?” Patrick greeted his friend with a smile and a raised eyebrow, leaning against the door frame. How Hamish walked in those things was beyond him and it impressed him no end that he could dance in them too.
“Patsy Cline!” Hamish sing-songed the nick-name Patrick had been bestowed by the household, “Yes, I’m on tonight. You coming?”
“I’ll be there, Hame, what time?”
“I’m on at ten, but there are some incredible performances tonight. It will be packed, so come in with me? You’ll do well.”
“I can’t say I ever have any problems at the Columbian, Hame,” Patrick smirked. Hamish loved encouraging Patrick to explore his slutty phase of coming out. Of course, they’d fucked when they first met, but neither was that into each other, so they had that kind of easy solid friendship that you can form with someone, knowing full well that nothing was lurking beneath the surface. Hamish had also been encouraging in helping Patrick move past his nervousness at being new to sex with men.
“You’re such a cockslut, Patsy,” Hamish teased giving him a wink, Patrick knew there was no malice at all in it, and reveled in taking power from the name.
Coming into this understanding, and being in such an enthusiastic community, was a godsend to Patrick. Not that his upbringing in Thunder Bay was prudish in any way, but it was pretty hetero-normative and the idealization of a straight monogamous relationship had kept him tied down for too long. It felt so good to fuck his way through half of the gay community in Sydney, with no judgment from anyone. He got to try things out, experience a full range of things that other people enjoyed, and was starting to solidify his own desires and kinks.
None of the men he had been with were concerned about the brief nature of their connection. Whether it was once, or a couple of times over a week or so, they all moved on happily knowing that it was sex – pure and simple. Patrick was always planning on going back to Canada, and was upfront about it. Having been in a long-term relationship for the better part of his adult life, he was so happy having this time to explore his sexuality. It didn’t hurt that he had his Canadian boy-next-door thing going on. He knew the novelty of being from elsewhere definitely helped him pull, so he leaned into it, hard. Hamish had helped him realize his best features and how to use them to get what (and who) he wanted.
“Okay- well I’m going to go have a disco nap, otherwise I’ll be asleep on the dance floor before you perform. Meet you for dinner?”
“Patsy, who are you kidding? Girl, you are never on that dance floor,” Hamish said with a smirk, his hand on his hip and a wave of his wrist. Hamish had seen Patrick dance and knew that was best saved for special occasions. “I’m meeting Marco and Killian for dinner at ‘Thai me up’ at 7.30. Sound good?”
“Cool, I’ll be ready by seven.”
He wandered up the stairs to his room and grabbed his stuff to shower to get the salt and sweat of the day off, before settling in for a nap. He loved hanging out with Hamish and his drag friends. They were all so deliciously camp and were funny and bitchy in a way that never felt mean. He always laughed so hard around him and they, in turn, adored his straight-laced energy and trolling humour.
In the shower his mind was drawn back to the couple he encountered that morning at the club. God, what a pair of pretentious assholes. He hoped he didn’t have to deal with them again.
Even if the scruffy boyfriend complained, Patrick wasn’t at all worried. He was well-liked and popular, and nobody from Icebergs, with its down-to-earth attitude, actually gave two hoots about what the patrons that came down from the hotel had to say.
But despite their entitlement, he couldn’t stop thinking about how the gorgeous dark-haired asshole had been staring at him from the minute he arrived. He was hoping he would get to flirt with him a little, tease him a bit and then head back to his room with him to fuck him senseless at the end of his shift. It wouldn’t be the first time his morning had gone that way. However, with the revelation that he had a boyfriend, and that his boyfriend was a giant dick, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to make that happen. Unfortunately, desire didn’t always work the way you wanted it to, and he still wanted to fuck the dark-haired man which was annoying. Those long legs would be in his thoughts for a while.
Patrick slipped his soaped-up hand down his body thinking of the man’s tiny black swim trucks and his long legs covered in dark hair. His hand slid down underneath his dick and soaped up his balls, imagining that smirking mouth sucking on them, licking them, and tugging at them. His semi-firm length sprang forward and was fully erect by the time he moved his fingers to encircle it. He stroked himself gently, imagining those long legs wrapped around him while his very generous cock sunk into his open hole. He imagined the way that expressive face would contort and the sounds the man would make as Patrick started sliding in and out of him. How the man would cry out Patrick’s name as he brought him to climax by relentlessly pounding his prostate. Patrick would collapse on top of him, heart beating fast and breath raspy as he shot his load into the man’s desperate hole. It was this image that made him come so hard he actually groaned out loud in the shower. With five housemates, he was usually more careful than that, but he shook his head and laughed. Hopefully, nobody was home.
Patrick opened his eyes from his shower fantasy, and assessed the damage. He removed the shower head from its wall bracket, so he could rinse the cum off the tiles which had made it a pretty impressive distance and smirked to himself, knowing he wouldn’t have to think about the man again. Tonight, was another night, and he planned to get balls deep in somebody else. Whoever took his fancy.