The crushing humidity of Jake's island was one of the first things that you had to get used to. It was nothing like the dry heat of Texas. You could feel the hydration at the back of your throat the moment you arrived. It felt like it had just rain and apparently it had just rained. It rained every day here on this island. At least once. It had to in order to properly sustain the unbelievable biome that Jake resided within.
You had never doubted that he lived on an island. But when you arrived, you had not expected it to be as wild as Jake had suggested it was. You don't understand how a human could possibly survive but Jake is living proof.
The attraction between the two of you had been what brought you to this meeting. He had been willing to try and be with you and you had been willing to be patient. You are in love with him enough to wait a few hundred million years if it meant getting the chance to have your feelings be reciprocated. You thought it would take a long time.
It doesn't.
In the first week of living together, Jake takes you through a run through the forest. You're kind of scared shitless of all of the unidentifiable animal calls you're hearing as you dash after him but you know you're safe. You're fast and physically capable of fending for yourself.
Chasing Jake is worth it. You tear through the woods. He starts to holler in sheer, boyish joy and you can't help but join him in his mindless screams of human-equated happiness. You never would express yourself so freely but there's something about Jake that entices you to change your ways from time to time.
You don't expect him to stop as suddenly as he does and when he does, you collide into his back though not as hard as you could of. You had the talent to slow down but the ground was practically mud and you slid through it until you met him.
His body was a lot more impressive than you had thought it would be. When he turns to look at you, you don't so much as remember your own birthdate. The boy is much more of a man than you are. His body is built for this atmosphere. Strong, sturdy, dependable, untamed, and yet still so characteristic of a gentleman with how he always makes sure to keep a clean-shaven face and short hair. It's unsightly of gentleman to let their hair grow out long and unruly, or so he says.
His body is a temple.
The first time you see it in all of its splendor, it is when he pulls you down into the mud to kiss and touch and explore your body. He isn't scared because you're a boy. He's scared because you're a human.
His hands are firm and massive, sliding rough over your skin but applying the gentle pressure that earns a rise of interest out of you. When you peel off his sweat-soaked shirt, you're surprised at how concealed his body truly is.
He's not over-muscled but he is defined beautifully. Like a thoroughbred, he was born to do what he does best. His muscles are subtle but exaggerated by sweat and shadows. His abdomen flexes and ripples the first time he thrusts into you and you don't know where to put your hands because everything feels right.
He's got a certain femininity to him as well.
It's the curve of his legs, the way they slope up to form the most delicious ass you have ever feasted your eyes upon. His mouth is pulled into a permanent pout of thick lips over bucked teeth and he's got some killer lashes that are just too impossible for any boy to have but he has them.
You are always surprised by how soft his hair is and how it always smells so clean even if he had just got home from adventuring.
The way he touches and holds you is one of your favorite things. It's as though he is dealing with a bird and you often reprimand him for being so cautious. You're not a girl and he doesn't need to treat you like one.
He only ever laughs at you when you say this and explains that he doesn't know how else to touch something that seems so unreal.
You never know how to reply so you just lean into that touch and let things go from there.
You have never been a religious man but you do know the passion behind worship.
Jake English is your God and he often drives you to your knees to bend over and implore upon his glory.
The love that you have for him is the most unfeasible and impossible thing to describe. It goes beyond proper English terms and expressions. It fills you up until you're suffocated. You can't explain this to him but you let him know through touch.
When you kiss him, it's a slow melt of tongues and mumbled words. You caress back his hair and touch his masculine face. Your mouth wetly marks him on his neck, along his chest. You know where he's ticklish and you know where he's sensitive.
You know that he likes the way you hold his ass with both of your hands and knead the flesh and pull it apart before pressing it back together. You know that he practically purrs every time you sink your tongue into his quivering hole and eat him out like he's a five-star meal. The way he pants and coos your name when his cock is down the back of your throat and the way he never, ever applies pressure to the back of your head but instead lets his hand hover there- touching but never forcing- just a presence of his desire.
The rare nights that he lets you make love to him are some of the best nights. Typically, you let him ride into you. He gets frenzied and excited and plows so hard into you that you can see the constellations when your eyes roll back into your skull.
But when you get to be inside of him, pulsating and tight, he becomes this tame, quiet boy who stares at you through widened eyes, so filled with an inner-peace that no one beyond the two of you will ever understand. You slide in and out of him and he never makes a sound, he never moans, but he only ever stares at you and you stare at him and you share a slow kiss.
You say one another's name in unison when you both come together and it never fails to make you hold him for the rest of the night, shaking, because above everything else, you are so fucking scared to lose this boy.
The special thing about the two of you is that it has never been purely about love. He was your best bro long before he was your lover and he had the honor of understanding you in the way that only a best bro ever could.
First and foremost, you are there to care for him and you will always but selfish desires aside in favor of coming to his side to please him. Your sacrificial gestures never go unnoticed and he still calls you his best friend, his best pal, the chum he wants to die with.
You always want to laugh because you're both too stellar at the things you do to even worry about death at this young of an age.
For someone who lacks formal education, he is more intelligent than he lets on. It attracted you to him even more and you spent nights laying across the floor as he read to you from exploration diaries of old time famous explorers that you had never heard of.
You listen to him tell you about every single animal and plant in existence and you listen with genuine attention to detail. The look on his face when you bring up those details later on is on your list of favorite expressions that Jake makes. He always looks so surprised and in awe that you'd bother to remember. He tells you he never expects you to remember the 'dumb things he likes'.
You tell him that nothing about his likes are dumb. He's a dork but he's fucking perfect in every way and he better realize that before you make him.
You never really want to go back and there's no reason for you to. Not when he has an impressive internet connection this far out. You had never been that socially demanding to the point where you'd miss it.
You tell him that you want to stay on this island with him and it's the first time that you see Jake cry. It's only a little bit, a wetting of his eyes before he sobs into your chest and tells you that this is the best thing that's ever happened to him.
You pat his back and tell him to man up.
He forces you down onto the hill top that you had been standing on over the ocean and he takes your clothes off. Between gasps of your name and rushed sentiments, he pushes into you and the sound of the ocean and his voice drown the rest of the universe out.
As your fingers gnarl around the grass and uproot it, he fucks into you harder and harder and you let him without making more than a grunt because you have realized that Jake has a lot of emotions that he needs to let you understand and this is the only way he understands.
It's not that the two of you never fight.
That would be impossible to avoid. The only difference is that when you have an issue with one another, you take it out on each other like respectable men. In other words, you use your fists and guns and swords and smash into each other with the brutality of fighting dogs. You've made each other bruise and bleed and break but there's no regrets.
Not when at the end of it all, you're there to carefully clean up the cuts you have given him or he is binding your splintered wrist. You're both too aggressive and occasionally short-tempered for your own good and sometimes you just need to deck it out like boys.
You always feel better after and the two of you make up.
You don't always go adventuring with him. He knows that it's not your thing as much as it is his but he still is always so incredibly excited when you do join him- and you do admittedly join him quite a lot. He's gotten you all of the necessary gear and it's now worn in and comfortable to wear. You climb mountain sides with him and escape a series of tomb traps and you hold him fast when the two of you descend into the mouth of a pitch black cave.
You try hard not to be such a baby when he picks up spiders the size of bricks to show you how cool it is and you try so hard not to cringe away when he asks you if you're scared. You're afraid he's going to throw it at you but when he realizes, he quickly throws it away into the grass and then lightly taunts you for being such a girl.
It's really not your fault that you don't think spiders are cute. Who the fuck does?
You learned how to cook so that you could actually make him a decent dinner every now and then. At first he called you a house wife but then he got a taste of your pot roast and quickly shut up about it. It's not an every night thing since you can't always be fucked to spend time bent over a hot stove.
Jake tries to help out but he's so forgetful in the kitchen that he does more harm than he does good. It's okay though.
He tries to learn things you like too and you have to smile at his attempts. He's not as selfish as some people might peg him for. He's spent countless hours hunched over your shoulder as you try to explain to him the technicalities behind creating an artificial intelligence or a robot with set codes to do certain things.
He's so fascinated and he tries so hard. He doesn't mess up a lot but when he does, he tries again and again until he gets it right and you admire his unbreakable conviction and hope. It's impossible to not admire.
You stop wearing your sunglasses around him at some point. He has trouble not looking at you for a straight week and you tell him to fuck off but you don't mean it. Not with how he's constantly looking at you.
Your name is Dirk Strider and you are so in love with Jake English.
You don't like the term 'soul mates' but a part of you wouldn't be surprised if that was the case with you and your best bro.
One night, he takes you to the beach. The warm water soaks at your feet as the two of you walk alongside one another, hands twined together as you meander along. You've abandoned your shirts and you had your pants rolled up to your knees.
You've taken on a bit of a tan since being here and your hair has become more blonde. Jake tells you that your freckles are more prominent as is the definition of your body. You have grown. You've grown in a lot of ways.
As you splash alongside him, you can feel your mouth pull up into a smile.
"Something on your mind, old chap?"
You look over at him and you pull him to a stop. Above you, the moon is a perfect sickle, beaming among the thousands of millions of stars and you stare past him at them all.
You see a streak of red through the sky and it glares out bright over the ocean and draws the direct attention of the both of you.
"What do you think that was?" he asked and you are just as surprised as him. Another red streak darts through the sky and you can feel the low vibration of something.
"By golly…"
You clench his hand and the water behind the two of you begins to churn and swish wildly. The sound of the animals of the forest erupt like an explosion of terror and another red streak pelts through the sky but only this one is far closer.
Closer enough that the both of you can see clear as day that it is a meteor. And it is heading straight for you.
Jake is shouting something to you but you simply can't look away. The meteor is engulfing, massive, impending. And when it makes contact.
You wake up.
Your body jerks violently upright and you are drenched in a cold sweat. You push a hand through your hair and wrench at it to make sure that you are absolutely awake.
You reach over and yank up your alarm clock to see what time it is. A smuppet falls off from it and lands with a squeak somewhere on your floor. It's about six in the morning.
You fall back and rub a hand over your face. Just outside of your window, you can hear the city roaring as it woke up. You can hear all of those businessmen rushing in their cars to get to their jobs. But most of all, you can hear the deafening silence of how incredibly alone you suddenly feel.
You cover your face with your arms and you try to reel yourself back in.
Your name is Dirk Strider and you really fucking hate that dream.