Three years ago, I was two days away from fifteen years old. For my birthday present, my parents decided against getting a new ski-boat to afford me my own personal wave runner. I was riding in a bay that was near by my house. It's natural shape was just a large crescent with an opening about thirty feet wide facing the full blown ocean wind. This wind current kept the air moist, and the waves dangerous, but I didn't mind in the slightest. A giant smile rode my face as I pummeled through wave after wave, never once falling. I mused the idea that I was too strong to fall, because I was fairly muscular, if I do say so myself.

It was a fun time indeed. I couldn't think of a way to make this any better. My own time alone on the ocean, or close enough to the ocean at least.

As finally the crashing and smashing of the waves began to bore me slightly, I was more entranced by the beautiful scenery. Directly down, the water is crystal clear and it's as if you can see for miles down. Schools of fish are very very sparse, but they are there occasionally. I wondered how deep exactly it was, but there is no way to tell as the sun was beginning to set and didn't strike the water at the proper angle, leaving the depths nothing but a black void. I chuckled nervously. In truth, I have very few fears, but one of them – my biggest one – is black water.

When I look to the sides, the crescent around me was large enough to hold at least three football fields. It was pretty much sheer cliffs straight up and down around the entire thing, except for the opening and one area directly across from the opening. It seemed there was a small hole there. I could sometimes see water billowing in and foam being spewed out. "It could even be a cave." I imagined, but I never really wanted to find out. The part of the hole outside of the water was only a foot high and not very wide either, and it was very dark.

As I once again stared downward into the surf, the subtle sound of an engine snoring and water pounding into fiberglass caught my attention. It was a jet-ski, much like my own. It's presence shocked me a bit. I was at least 4 miles down the coast from any port or civilization that I knew of. The rider approached directly at me. I could tell he was male, and quite the man he was. He wore no life jacket (or any safety feature that I could see) and stood instead of riding passively. He looked completely at ease with his surroundings. He looked powerful.

As he drew the last few feet, "Well, hello beautiful, I'm Scott" smiling, "... Oh geez, didn't mean to scare you bud."

His words took me aback. I'd never met anyone so upfront with sexuality like that. Little did I know that Scott has a gaydar of legend. I laughed. He must have been thinking of my ride.

"You're sure riding a thing of beauty too."

"Oh I didn't mean that 90's piece of crap. Talking about that face, man. And those ripped arms. I'd like it very much if you'd take off that jacket."

Florida boys, hah! They put California girls to shame. I looked him over one more time. A stunning tan highlighted by the moisture of the ocean and bulging biceps gave tale to how much time he spends laboring in the sun. He had a small amount of incredibly cute freckles peppering his cheeks. Classic beach-boy look to him, with his dirty blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes. We were young, but even then, he was built like a skyscraper, tall and firm. I felt butterflies in my stomach, but I was by no means a shy person.

"How about an eye for an eye? I take off this vest, and you take off your shorts!" I yelled excitedly.

"I like the way you put it," he growled, already sliding them off. I smiled and undid the zipper of my safety-vest. Slowly removing it to reveal my slightly paler skin and slim cut chest. My eyes widened. He went commando! Now, completely naked, he sat smiling at me in the dying sunlight. This boy was fucking hung. His half hard cock it seems was enjoying this little game between the two of us.

"Fuck it!" I giggled, and set about removing my own swimming trunks and compression shorts.

"Oh man. Getting kinda chilly out here huh?" he asked, not hiding his stare at my crotch whatsoever. And it was, as I saw sharp Goosebumps raise his barely visible blonde hair all about his body.

"If we keep this going, it's gonna get hot very fast."

He chuckled a bit, and then said eagerly, "Wanna join me for a swim then?" And with that, he was already diving in. For the briefest nano-second I saw his sexily flexed ass. Feeling my own cock twitching with the desperate beat of my heart, I nearly face planted into the water. Nearly.

But before I leapt, I looked down. The black unknown lay beneath me, unrelenting. It was then that I looked up, noticed the sun going yet further down and the water darkening along with it. My heart skipped a beat. "I can't do it," my conscience told me. There's no telling what's down there. There's no sign of a way back once you are down there. And when your gone, no one will ever find you. You'll die alone, and cold. I'll die alone.

Then, I see him going down and down. Further away from me to the depths. Slowly being sucked from reality into nothingness. Suddenly, I felt sick everywhere. He was going way to far down, thought I could still see him kicking to go farther. Irrational fear gripped me and I felt a powerlessness I hadn't felt since watching my father die slowly and painfully from lung cancer.

I gripped the edges of my jet-ski fiercely. How long has it been? A minute? Two? 10 seconds? I couldn't tell. I was leaning as far to the edge of my seat as I dare, searching, but now I could not see him.

Then, a pressure hit the side of my jet-ski, my safety. But there was no wave. Within half a second, the jet-ski tilted to a 70 degree angle, and I screamed. I screamed so hard, and even when I hit and sank below the water, I still tore out my lungs. I roared till I had no oxygen left in my lungs in sheer terror of that blackness encroaching me. And suddenly, without the buoyancy of life sustaining air in my lungs, I sank like and anchor. I flailed my arms about, attempting to stop, or slow myself, but it was no use. It was as if I forgot how to swim, and further I sank.

I hugged my chest as tightly as I could with my limited ability of controlling my panic stricken nervous system. I dare not open my eyes. I knew exactly what I would see, and it terrified me. The water drifted past my steadily sinking body with the occasional flurry of bubbles. In not long at all, my lungs burned as it had inhaled a thousand white hot nails. Temperature was changing, getting colder, terribly cold. I was on fire on the inside, and submerged in ice on the out.

And then, it's as if I blinked. The direction the water was hitting me was changing. Soaring downwards rather than up. Did I hit the bottom? Was there no farther to go down? But no, there was something odd. I felt something fap against my thigh. Twice. There was a rhythm to it. There was also pressure on my armpits that I hadn't noticed till now. Ouch. The thing on my thigh scratched me. I was losing consciousness. Even the blackness of my eyelids started to turn double-black. The water was getting warmer too. I guess this is the end huh. As soon as my lungs fill with water, it's over.

The thing on my armpits moved. Wait, not thing. It was a hand. And the thing on my leg. Could that have been a foot? The pain of my lungs hit me full force just then. It didn't matter what it filled with, my lungs HAD to fill with something. It felt like they were shriveling into nothingness.

I took a sharp intake. Halfway through, I coughed until green and brown phlegm sputtered from my mouth and then I breathed again.

"WHAT... cough.cough...THE FUCK...cough...IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?" a voice roared murderously too me. I opened my eyes. I was back to the surface, being held by a firm grip. "oh god... dude, you gotta wake up.. I can't hold us for long like this." The voice pleaded. Our jet-skis were far away and the boy from earlier was treading both of us in the water singlehandedly. His breaths were just as staggered as mine.

Every twitch of muscle, every single movement was agony. I was in a near drunk-like state. The salty water chapping my lips seemed to dazzle before my eyes with little blue stars. "Pleas..." he began but his words were cut off by choking. We began to go down again, but his grip on me did not falter.

Slowly, I began to kick the sea back and add my strength to Scott's own. We clutched each other chest to bare chest and kicked for survival. Our heads surfaced through our struggle, but now there was a new horror. The sun was nearly beyond the horizon and the ocean submitted once again to the moon's tide. Waves now the size of tractors plowed towards us with not the slightest hint of sympathy.

The first one hit, and it hit like a rock. I held tighter to him, inseparable, though there was no warmth left in the slowly chilling water. We were sent downwards, deep, but together. I had to admit, I wasn't nearly as scared as I was before with Scott. Even if I were to die right now, I could do it perhaps a little happy with this beautiful and very caring boy.

Thunderous water battered us constantly. Though still, somehow we managed to stay afloat. I had all but lost hope of making it back to the jet-skis which were nowhere in sight. The dark sky created a clammy atmosphere of barriers between us and everything else. For a while it seemed that we were not moving, that we were stuck in time as much as space. But after resurfacing for what seemed like the 60th time, I saw it approaching. The, "cave" sucked and spewed surf mercilessly. Just like a low-class whore. I attempted to joke, but there was no humor left in me.

A weak voice cut through the crashing and cracking noises around me. "Don't... let go of me," he pleaded. And for a terrifying second, the pressure of his arms disappeared. I clung to him harder than anything in my life, and of that I am sure. My arms burned, cramped, stretched, and twitched. But they did not let go.

It was then that a strong current stirred us violently to my left. My heart dropped below my stomach. Even with all the water in my eardrums, I could still hear the SPEEWSH of water churning and spewing from the cave. It became louder and louder as the tractor beam of currents pulled us into the dark, emotionless hole.

I managed one scream and then everything went cold, black and terrifying. We were in constant motion. The movement was circular, which could mean a number of things about the cave, but I didn't care about it one bit. All that mattered was survival. Scott moved slightly. One of his hands went around the back of my head and the other the small of my back. He was trying to protect me.

There was a vicious slam. I waited for pain, but it didn't come. But a second later I felt Scott's chest tremble and shutter. Scott! I imagined him just opening his mouth for a moment in agony and this lungs pouring over with water. Please. I cried out to nothing in particular.

Distraught, I did what I could, trying to protect his head and anywhere else I could. I was brushed against walls a few times, but I just slid off of the thick layer of slime coating everything in the disgusting place with only a small cuts.

Something changed. Much warmer water joined in with us and I was out of the cave. As simple as that. The absence of the pounding water left me feeling lightweight and free.

Large waves still tore at my psyche, but it was at this moment that I saw both a wonderful and horrible thing. My wave-runner was perched against a rock 10 feet away. And Scott was no longer moving as I carried him like a sack of mud. My body screamed in protest to such vigorous movements but I forced on, not only for myself, but Scott as well.

I sat near that back of the seat and propped him up on his side. My mind fumbled over itself attempting to remember back to my PCR class. Wait, no no no, you check the pulse first, then check breathing!! Or was it check for broken bones first? UGH!!

Screwing protocol, I held him still and felt under his chin. However, the waves and bouncing made it truly impossible to feel anything other than aching. I laid my head on his chest. Instead of being the beautiful sculptured strong chest I was used to seeing, he was pale, cold, and looked dangerously close to breakdown. Panic set in. His chest was not expanding. He wasn't breathing.

"Ok, ok...." I said extremely unevenly. "I've just gotta..." I attempted to put him on his back, but my hands trembled terribly. "Oh my God, I can't do this!" I yelled, but I knew I had to. It's not like what you read in a story book, where people go on auto pilot and save lives like it's nothing. Here was this beautiful boy. His body in my arms, and life in my hands.

So I tried my hardest. I managed to maneuver him laying flat on his back with his head near the head of the vehicle. I sat between his legs and looked down at him. He was still shockingly sexy completely naked, even half dead. The only change on his face was the lips, which had gone an icy blue. A larger wave crashed into us again. It pulled us off the rock my jet-ski was clinging to for life and sent us off to the middle of the crescent. Here, the moonlight could reach us, and it brought with it's ghostly glow an unexpected, unwelcome surprise.

The water about my feet was tainted a glowering crimson. It's source was from the seat, trailing down in bloody stripes, from Scott. Even as I watched, the lines of gore grew thicker. But there was no time! The threat of him bleeding to death, no matter the amount of blood loss, was not as immediate as suffocating.

Not wasting another second, I hastily opened his mouth and placed my lips on his. "The kiss of life" as I've heard it before. I desperately forced oxygen into his lungs and felt his chest fill unwillingly. Took a breath, fed it to him, took a breath fed it to him. Then I pressed my palms onto his chest and pumped onto his heart three full times. Then back to breathing for him.

As I assisted him, worry tore at my soul. What if he dies? Could I live with myself? I wondered. Tears fell from my face and landed on his chin.

"NO!! NO NO NO!!! YOU'RE NOT GONNA GIVE UP DAMN IT!!!!" I screamed at him with all my might, feeling my throat tear up. "Scott.." I choked. Then breathed for him again. And slammed his chest. And breathed for him...

It felt like hours. It probably was hours. Sweat dripped from every part of my naked body and it felt like every muscle in my arms, abs, chest, back, and even legs was injected with ruthless acid. Eventually, it was not humanly possible for me to continue. I could barely contain a breath for myself, much less him. Sobbing, I lay my head down on him in defeat.

Every confidence I had ever obtained was shattered along with any happiness. As I rested my cheek on his cold and limp chest, the weight of everything crushed down on me. I was in anguish over this boy, and a question plagued me. I've asked it plenty times before. Do I regret coming here at all? Would I rather have never met Scott and having him still alive, or live with this experience. Because I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt that his first impression on me and saving me from a dark watery grave stirred deep feelings in me.

Even as we were trapped in that awful cave, I still felt invincible. I felt that after it all, we can come together again in mutual brothership, and that can form into something more. But as I lay here, the blood continuing to pool at my feet, there is no mistaking what has happened. He didn't deserve this. It's my fault. So maybe I deserve the same. It won't take much. Just wait for the tidal waves to reach their peak heights.

I closed my eyes.... and my mind settled to nothingness.

Try as I might, I could not block every sensation. My pulse throbbed hard in my face.

Wait. Throbbed in my face? What?

Warmth blossomed beneath me suddenly. I felt a steady thrum, deep bass. Like the strike of a baritone. Rich and... in crescendo. In the flash of a match, I was up looking at him with my hand on his neck.

Beneath that supple skin, blood rushed to replenish his everything. I felt like oozing butter on the inside and I cried. Cried harder than before, or ever. I leaned forward.

Scott's lips were chapped and drying. But, from between them, a cough emerged. I jumped violently and began shaking all over again with renewed fear. His muted cough was followed by an unbearably weak groan.

"Scott! Scott, please. Just stay awake! I... I'll get you out of here," I managed before my words caught in my throat.

"Ugh...umm. Unggg." He moaned at me. I wanted to try to understand if he was saying something, but I needed to get us out of this damn cove and the wind was picking up.

As gently as I could, I grabbed his bicepts and pulled him into a sitting position. He yelped in pain but otherwise didn't complain. When he was in place upright in front of me, I saw his cut. It was nothing. Maybe half an inch wide right next to his shoulder blade. It was seeping with blood. Oh but wait, oh god, that's really deep. It could have been all the way to the muscle judging by how the blood seeped faster if his shoulder moved.

I instinctively reached for my shorts or any patch of clothing to wrap it in, but then I realized I was still completely naked.

The engine roared to life. I found comfort in the sound of it. It reminded me that I have a home and family that I must go back to no matter what. From a pocket compartment, I procured a small towel which I held firmly on his wound. It hurt me as he winced to my painful touch.

As we soared off into the dark horizon together, I whispered softly in his ear. I began with soothing words of serenity, and eventually began singing lullaby's to him. It could have been my imagination, but he seemed to grunt and groan less as I sang.

In minutes I saw the sparkling lights of the coast, my great beacons. We both shivered as our bare skin was ravaged by the cold night air. I truly feared that Scott would go into shock or seize up, but he was strong. I made it to the place I had parked my truck beside an enormous public wharf. Scott was trembling savagely. I quickly stood and reached for his arm. He was not aware of his surroundings, though the way he was swaying in his seat, I could tell he was lightheaded. When he saw me, he attempted a reassuring smile, but it turned out looking more like the smile you make when you say good bye to someone for a very long time.

Scott could not move very well at all. He was clearly in pain and had lost more than his fair share of blood. I managed to get him off the jet-ski with wobbly limbs. God, saving Scott's life was the work out of the century. However, it was very clear that I couldn't help him much further. He crumpled to the ground and pulled me down with him.

"No. Scott we're not giving up."

"Jesse..." he said, his voice a terrified pleading. My eyes squinted with emotion. I had no idea how he came to know my name at all, but the use of it formed a bond between me and him that I knew I couldn't sever till the day I die.

"It's ok S..Scott." I whimpered. "I.. I'm gonna go get help for you. Alright? Please don't move much. I'll be back.."

He nodded faintly, then flushed completely pale from the action. How can I do this? I asked myself. I felt I just needed to hold him until he felt better. As if a loving embrace can heal all the world's ailments. But, such things are false. So I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sight of him, stood up and ran.

The dock was completely deserted and huge. The compact wood scraped my waterlogged feet as I tore across the space looking for salvation. The air about me was finally still, not a seagull or moth in sight. Large shrimping boats and private vessels bore down on me like an insignificant little pig, fit for slaughter. No sound but the puht puht puht of my desperately running soles on the smooth yet course flooring.

I looked for any sign on people. This particular stretch of dock was at least a half mile long. I dreaded the thought that I may have to run all the way to land and then possibly further. My soreness slowed me down considerably, but running with a purpose will always beat out running without a purpose.

I wondered if anyone was in the boats right now. What if I screamed for help? Would it come? I considered it, but I couldn't bring myself to exert the energy to cry out while running for Scott's life.

There came a small building in my sight. It was very small, perhaps just an outhouse of sorts. But there was a light coming from under the door. My heart shot in my chest and I doubled my miserable speed.

"HELP!" I croaked through tears. "Please.. Oof," I grunted as I hit a solid and particularly painful object. It seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

I took three steps back and realized it was a person whom just stepped out of a corner from around the outhouse. I gasped at the sight of0 him, slightly from shock, but more out of fear. He was a monster of a man. I am 5 foot 7 but my eyes only matched his nipples height on my tippy toes. He looked to be about in his late 20's. He was ripped from head to toe with bulging muscles throbbing with jutting veins. He wore only a pair of small cargo shorts. The sight of his stature filled me with cold dread.

He looked me up and down.

I felt extremely venerable before him completely naked, visibly shaking, out of breath, clearly too exhausted to put up any sort of fight. I took several more steps away from him. Then I looked up at his face.

And as I looked into his eyes, I saw genuine care, with a pinch of surprise. He took two strides to my staring self and placed a hand on my shoulder then motioned to the nearest sailboat. All of my emotional barriers shattered.

Sobbing uncontrollably, "Please s..sir! Scott, he's... he'll die. I'm alright! WE HAVE TO GO BACK!" I cried feebly tugging back at him to Scott.

His brow furrowed, "Son, let me at least get you a towel."

"NO!" I roared, frustrated. "Scott..." I was at a loss for words. I just wanted for him to know what was happening.

"Where is he?" said he with the deepest whisper.

I could only point. It was dark, but the moonlight was sufficient enough to see a figure lay at the edge of the murky water. He took one glance and fired off in the direction top speed. Through the burn, I followed as best I could. I only got halfway there when I saw the man lift Scott as if he were a child into his arms. Scott's legs dangled limply as the man ran back. He passed me without stopping slowing of saying a thing, only looking deep into my eyes. I attempted to turn around and follow once again, but my muscles failed on me. The very calf and deltoids and hamstrings that I have used every single day of my life, to play sports, to climb mountains, to play with my dog, simply buckled and refused to budge once again. I fell onto my chest staring sideways, parallel to the land.

I saw a grand pelican swoop down and capture the night's prey into its jaws. I felt the fish's hopelessness. Seeing him so helpless set a deep sadness into me. He's gone.

A few seconds later, the pelican lurched. From its mouth, water splashed out, along with the glimmering fish. There was the smallest splat and the pelican flew off into the distance defeated.

I heard a shout. It was the man carrying Scott's, "Travis! Get out here, I need ya' help! Hurry up, damn it!"

"Help the boy over there. Bring ‘em inside." The man said urgently. There was a scuffling of bare feet on polished wood. Then wordlessly, warm hands gripped my armpits and shifted me into a standing position supporting 80 percent of my weight.

"Are you ok man? What the hell happened to you two?" a Travis asked me. He seemed younger than the other man. Not nearly as towering either.

I wanted to reply, but didn't. I just said, "Thank you Travis." I sighed deeply. I "walked" on my jelly legs to the opening onto the sailboat. Inside, calm lights illuminated a peaceful looking living room area.

Scott was laid onto a plushy couch on his stomach. Forgetting the pain everywhere, I ran to him and knelt at his side. He was awake, but his eyes were screwed shut as if in pain. The other two were about rather lively looking for something. It's up to them now.

I ran my hand over Scott's forehead and into his short blonde curls. At my touch, his eyes slowly opened and looked at me. I made a big happy goofy smile, just so thrilled that he was alive and with me.

"Jesse. It's thanks to you that I'm here, huh?" he spoke softly.

Yet more tears fell from my lids. And before he could say something else, I kissed his icy lips. We kissed gently, not using force or aggression, but just loving each other just the way we are.

The kiss lasted minutes on minutes long. As I came up for air, I noticed Travis and the other man looking at us, surprised. Heat filled my cheeks and reached all the way to my chest. Then Travis began to chuckle and elbowed his friend. They both smiled as they approached to clean and bandage Scott's back and some of my minor cuts.

I never let go of his stunning face for the duration.

When they were satisfied with Scott's situation, they moved us both away to let out a sofa-mattress. After final adjustments on bandages, they told us that we are not to leave and are welcome to help ourselves to whatever food they had. Then, they said goodnight and graciously gave us our privacy.

Alone, we lay exhausted on the comfy mattress. Scott could get in no other position besides on his stomach his face towards me. As gently as possible, I wrapped an arm around his lower back and pressed my body against his. I felt our combine heat finally send comfort into my bones. Content as can be, I kissed him softly again.

"Jesse... thanks," he said as we broke contact, his throat filling with emotion.

"Shh, tomorrow." I said placing a finger on his lips.

He looked at me with the most innocent and curious look. "Tomorrow.. Babe."

As he called me that, a shiver fell down my back, and I slowly slipped into sleep thinking of every single synonym of "Happiness" I knew.



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