Chapter 21: Epilogue (The Honeymoon)
Baz:
It's quiet and we're alone… a gentle breeze from the beach sweeps the gauzy curtains up and around the windows. Tropical birds are singing from the trees, and the hum of insects, lapping ocean waves, and tick of our ceiling fan lulled us to sleep in the sticky afternoon.
The sheets on our bungalow bed are white linen, and I know they're clean because I brought them from home. Simon's laying on his stomach, head turned away from me, sleeping the sleep of exhaustion as he (probably) drools on his pillow. His bronze curls are kissed with sun and his skin is noticeably darker than it was in England (except for his bum, of course). He's been thoroughly sun-kissed and Baz-kissed.
Because we're on honeymoon. We're married now… Simon and I.
I stretch and nestle into my pillow, listening to the island. Watching a blue butterfly flap lazily through one of our windows before it exits out the other.
We're thoroughly alone.
After the wedding, I wanted to take Simon on a Mediterranean cruise for our honeymoon. But then the Corona virus started creeping up and we realized it would be better to stay home. And we could have been very happy that way, too, if Father's friend hadn't told us about the island.
He owns a small island in the Caribbean. It's tiny, but it has a couple of bungalows on it, along with electricity and water run by a solar-powered generator. If we flew over enough supplies for ourselves to stay a good long while, Father's friend said we could wait the virus out while honeymooning here.
Simon loved the idea, of course (once I reassured him we could afford it). He wanted to go alone, just the two of us, but I persuaded him on the practicality of letting at least two people come along… the helicopter pilot, in case there's an emergency and we need to get back, as well as someone who can housekeep and cook for us. There are suites for Keith and Jenny (the pilot and cook) in the second bungalow, and they give us plenty of space and privacy. They know we're on honeymoon so are going to great pains not to interrupt us… it's kind of humorous. Like if they're not really, really careful they're going to inadvertently spy us screwing each other (which is, I must admit, a legitimate concern). Some days they're so tactful in staying away from us it feels like Simon and I really do have this island all to ourselves.
We've been here a week, and it's been a relaxing, peaceful time. I had no idea Simon was such a nappy person. When he's not eating or having sex with me, he's like a big happy cat lying in a patch of sunlight.
Naps are helped along by the fact that we have almost no communication with the outside world. The cell phone signal is so bad here (and forget about the wireless), so we've given up trying to use our phones, and instead rely on the pilot to keep us up to date on any big news that develops in the outside world. He has a two-way radio and can catch headlines and talk back and forth with the mainland. He hasn't been telling us very much, so either there's little going on in the world or he's letting us live in a honeymoon bubble.
I suspect it's the latter, but I'm not complaining. We needed a break and a chance to seal our new relationship after the hubbub and din of the tour. We needed a chance to be lazy and just… lovers. I thought I would miss the bookshop but honestly I've hardly thought about it.
Simon rolls over and faces me, now. From the tip of his nose, to his eyelashes, to his full lips… he's perfect. I move closer and he smiles, eyes slitting open but then closing again. He throws an arm and a leg over me like he wants to make sure I don't sneak away.
And why in the world would I do that? After a while I drift off back to sleep, too.
Simon:
I wake up and at first I don't know where I am. But I look over and see Baz, so then it doesn't even matter where I am. I'm with him, and all is right with the world.
I can't believe I ever objected to this island getaway in the first place. When he told me about this, my first reaction was "what's it going to cost", but of course if I don't limit our activities to just what I can afford but instead start going with what we can afford, a tropical honeymoon was just fine.
My second worry was about leaving Ebb for so long. I mean, I don't live with her anymore; haven't for a while. But this virus thing… it's kind of scary and new. Will she be okay? What if she gets sick?
She laughed that concern away, for me. She said she's hunkering down and hibernating in her apartment with stacks of books and projects and enough provisions to get her through the year. She told me to go on, go away… she has some reading to do.
So I told Baz "yes", and he whisked me away to a tropical island...
We shower and dress and check the fridge in our little kitchenette, to see what Jenny has left us to eat. There's a fresh fruit salad, salad with cucumber in it, and shredded barbeque pork and rolls waiting for us… along with a full pitcher of Pimms. Mmmm. I pour some into champagne glasses (because of course there are champagne glasses in the cupboard), add a fresh orange slice to the rim of each one, and fix us a couple of plates. We go sit outside in the shade of the patio. The breeze from the sea feels good.
It's hot so I'm wearing shorts, a tank top, and bare feet. I haven't seen Baz wear shorts yet… not sure if he owns any... but he is wearing short loose capris-style pants today, with a white linen short-sleeved button-up (half undone) and bare feet. He's got sunglasses on and his lush black hair is blowing back in the breeze like I'm marooned with a goddam movie star.
"What should we do today, darling?" he asks in a slow drawl, sipping his Pimm.
"Let's go down to the beach and look for rocks and drift wood. Maybe we could even go for a swim." I say. What I think is "let me steal you away to the beach so I can pound you into the sand."
"That sounds delightful." Baz says, licking his lips. He may understand more than I thought...
We pack a lunch, plenty of water, a blanket to lay on, towels… basically everything we can think of to be comfortable outdoors for a couple of hours. We let Jenny and Keith know where we're going, so nobody worries… and also so they can avoid going to that spot for a couple of hours…
It's easier just to walk barefoot, but we carry our sandals and we're each wearing a rucksack. We start at the shore, but then Baz has us turn inland to follow a fresh water stream. "I heard about a secret spot," he tells me, mysteriously. In a few minutes we can't see or hear any signs of civilization and have our sandals back on because the path's become less sandy and more rugged. We step gingerly over and around fallen trees and rocks. We look where we're going, though. It wouldn't do to step on anything poisonous.
Finally we find a shady, sandy spot. There's a small break in the trees overhead and an open, sandy patch dappled with sunlight. The stream has widened into a lovely fresh water lagoon. It must be spring-fed because the water is so clear and pure. Now that we've stopped walking all I hear is the trickling of water, the ocean off in the distance, and gulls.
"This looks like a good spot for a rest. Let's put the blanket here," I suggest.
Baz stops and unloads his rucksack. There's a sweat stain where it covered his shoulders, and his back is probably soaked. I see him swat away a mosquito and am glad neither of us has had to put on bug spray, yet. The breeze along the shore did a good job keeping the bugs at bay, and we can still feel it a little here in this open spot, despite the trees. I don't want there to be limits on where I can kiss Baz during this excursion, but I really don't like the taste of bug spray.
We spread the blanket out together and sit on it. It feels good to bury my feet in the sand. My heels hit cool damp dirt underneath and it's such a fresh, simple feeling.
"Water?" he asks, handing me a flask.
"Yes, please."
Even the water tastes more delicious out here. Every single little thing we do feels like a treat. Life on the island is so stripped down… no noise, except what nature provides; no visual overload. Just eat, sleep, wake, and make love.
And I'm really looking forward to that last part.
"Should we go for a little swim?" I ask. "A skinny dip?"
"Mmm," Baz replies. "That might feel really good."
"Yes, it's hot, isn't it?"
"Sizzling."
We stand up and start removing our shirts. I hand mine to Baz and he lays both our shirts over a couple of bushes. Then off go our bottoms, and our pants. We hold hands and walk into the water gingerly. It's a little cool, at first.
"Come on… none of that! Let's dive in," I say, and let go his hand to do just that. I jump up and then go head first into the water, coming up and spouting like a whale just a few feet away from him. I shake my head and do my best to spatter him with water.
"Your turn!" I tease.
He raises an eyebrow and looks skeptical about whether or not that's a good idea, but then he does what I just did. Except he stays under water a bit longer and I lose track of him for a few seconds. Then I feel a hand on my butt and he pops up right beside me, wrapping his arms around me from behind and kissing me on the neck.
"Oh! Hi," I say.
"Hi."
The water's not actually cold so we adjust to it pretty quickly. It feels heavenly. No doubt my enjoyment of the water is enhanced by the way Baz is rubbing his naked body up behind me, and I feel that he's already getting hard.
He's kissing my shoulders and back now. His hands are on my hips and his cock is right… there. I spin around, making sure to keep contact with his cock by brushing my skin on it. I throw my arms around his neck.
"This is so naughty," I say. "What if someone sees us?"
Baz laughs. "Not likely."
"But possible…".
"I suppose."
"What if they saw me… do this?" and I wrap my hand around his cock. I start to stroke it up and down.
"That would be," Baz gasps, "scandalous."
I lean in and we kiss. We're both wet, so I don't worry about whether it's sloppy. I lick his jaw and tug gently on his lower lip with my teeth. I keep my hand moving on his cock. He moans.
I feel his hands on my waist, and then they slip lower. He grabs me by the buttocks and lifts me up in the water. I wrap my legs around his waist. I feel him snake a hand down my front. He holds my bollocks softly in his hand and then strokes up and behind to my rim.
"What if they saw this?" he whispers. He's fingering around my rim.
"Omigod, that would be so bad," I reply, sucking on his neck. "They would think we're shameless."
Baz kisses me lightly and sets me down. "Be right back. Don't go anywhere," he says. He wades out of the water, naked, and starts digging in his rucksack. Is he looking for lube? Yep. I see the bottle. He grins and waves at me.
Omigod… is this going to work in water? Won't the lube wash off? It's silicon-based, so maybe not...I guess we're experimenting, here.
His finger all lubed up, he wades back into the water. He makes a show of it for me, keeping eye contact and walking slowly, licking his lips, and I'm happy to see he still has a partial erection. He returns to my side and we pick up where we left off… me with my legs wrapped around his waist, him rubbing a now lubricated finger around my rim. He slowly inserts it. He gets all the way up to the knuckle before slowly pulling it out. He repeats that, and it feels so good in the water.
The water is shallow enough I can see Baz's nipples. They're erect, and I want them. I brush my hands up against them and then pinch them lightly. I lick them and twist them till Baz moans and sticks two fingers up me. This time he crooks them so he touches my prostate. I shudder and moan into his shoulder a little.
"Simon," he says softly, "I love touching you in the water but I think the lube is washing off. Maybe we should be on the blanket."
"Yeah, I think you're right," I huff. "But damn I like you in the water."
"I'll still be wet…" Baz promises.
He gently disentangles my legs from his waist and sets me down, so my feet sink back into the sand of the lagoon bottom. I know we're meant to leave the water now and return to the blanket, but first… one kiss. My hands slide up to his neck and brush his damp hair away. I let my hands smooth down his biceps and clench them as I draw him closer. I press our lips together and then open his mouth with the gentle pressure of our kiss.
I love how his arms feel, but I keep my hands moving and now they're at his waist… his hips. I snake them around till they find the smooth muscled mounds of his arse.
God, he's well put together, there.
Perfect time to lean into him a little and rub ourselves together. The cool-warm water of the lagoon and the gentle slide of our cocks against one another… mmm. I surge forward a little too much and Baz stumbles back, laughing. "Hey now, big guy," he murmurs against my lips, steadying himself. And I lose all patience. Why the hell aren't we on that blanket, yet?
With a sweep of my arms as I duck down, I scoop Baz up and carry him, bridal-style, out of the water and onto the blanket. I lay him down reverently, like he's the most precious, incredible thing in the world. Because he is, to me. Then I pile on top of him, and he accepts me, spreading his legs a little.
Because we belong together; we fit. Because we have learned to simply slot ourselves together, and all questions are answered, all doubts are cleared, all wounds are healed.
Baz:
I may be taller than Simon, but he's plenty strong. When he picked me up and carried me out of the water, all I had to do was lean against his chest and enjoy the ride.
I've never felt so taken care of, so adored, in my life.
Then I'm lying on the blanket and the dappled light is falling on my skin. I feel chilly, just for a moment, until Simon joins me on the blanket and crawls over the top of me, sheltering me… protecting me.
It feels incredible. Ever since the night I joined him on the tour, Simon has been more open with me. He was always honest, but in a restrained, careful way. Like he wasn't all in… because he couldn't be.
But that's changed, and now it feels like it's us against the world. We're together and united in every aspect possible. Yes, one can argue that marriage is a simple piece of paper, but for me it's so much more. It's Simon stating openly and unashamedly that I'm his and he's mine, that we're together, forever.
I remember when he wouldn't let me buy him a pair of pants and a shirt— his separation from me was a matter of pride. Now he trusts our partnership enough to let me whisk him away to this island and spoil us a little.
I like him taking charge, I like him claiming me in every way he enjoys (I enjoy that myself.) But I started something earlier and I wouldn't be a Salisbury-Pitch if I didn't finish it too.
I leave one last kiss on his beautiful lips and roll us over.
Simon gives me a puzzled look.
"I wasn't done, love," I whisper in his ear and reach for the lube. That makes him almost growl. He wants it. He wants me.
This seems somewhat risqué of a place — out in the open, but I'm hoping we won't be disturbed. Our island companions haven't walked in on us yet— I have a good feeling about this.
After applying a generous dab of lube to my fingers, I start over on opening him up.
My cock is almost twitching from excitement. I want to be inside him, I want to make him feel good.
Simon's rim feels silky under my fingers and when I move around, he moans from pleasure.
It goes faster now, of course, and it's not long before the third finger is in and Simon is open and ready for me.
But first I come back to his lips and snog him a little, keeping my fingers still.
Simon can't seem to decide whether to be happy about the kiss or cross with me for not moving my fingers…
He settles with a whine, "Baz-"
"Someone is awfully spoilt, Mr. Salisbury-Pitch," I joke. That makes him chuckle.
"You're lucky I love you, Mr. Salisbury-Pitch," he says back to me. He isn't really cross.
After leaving one last longing kiss on his lips, I return my attention to the lower half of his body. I put a rolled up beach towel under the small of his back and lube my cock up.
I line myself up against him, touch his thighs with one hand and steer my cock against his arse, right into him. I go as slowly and gently as I can, still caressing him with my other hand.
"Baz...I need more…" Simon is nothing if not impatient.
"All in… due time, love…" I gasp through shattered breath.
It doesn't take long before I get us up to a bit of speed, thrusting my hips into him.
"Yes…" he moans, and my passion builds because I live for that sound coming from him… only him. My cock feels amazing inside of Simon. He's tight and wet and every thrust I make takes me up to heaven.
"You...so…so...good…" I try to tell him while panting. And Simon is just that — good, body and soul. I love everything about him. How passionate he is over his music, how he taps into and expresses such deep emotion when he sings — things he can't find the words for, otherwise. But I don't just get his words… I get all of him. And so I get a view into his heart, beyond his words and music. Simon lets me see him — the real him.
Simon is trying to thrust back against me and I increase my speed so he can have all the pleasure he wants.
He won't last for long— I can see that— so I take a hold of his cock and start moving my hand along with my thrusts. Just as I do so he lets out a shriek, "Fucking hell… Baz…"
That gives me the extra adrenaline kick I need to go even faster, slamming my cock into him, making him moan and gasp more and louder.
"Oh yes…" His voice is the best melody in the world, even without singing. This right here, Simon gasping with me inside him, is my favourite ballad and the best love song he could gift me with.
"Ah…" I let out a groan as I pump my cock into him one more time before we both spill, me filling Simon with my come and him covering my belly with his.
As soon as we both calm down a bit, I pull myself out and sink onto Simon. He looks angelic, bleached curls spread in every direction, blue eyes shining from pleasure, all flushed from making love.
I get to make love with Simon — my husband. The thought still sounds unbelievable to me... I wanted this far too soon after we met. I never thought I would get it. That we would have each other...
I kiss his cheek and his sweat-covered temple.
"I love you, Simon." I mean so much more with those words, but I might be a bit tired from the sun and from ecstatically pounding into my husband for a good half an hour.
But I think he understands. I didn't think that would ever happen either, that Simon would understand me. But he does. We both came a long way since this all started, since that first day we met.
Simon smiles at me, face glowing with happiness.
"You're all mine and I'm all yours. I love you."
Then he kisses me on the mouth in the most deep and passionate way.
That's when we hear the tree branch snap.
We only have a few seconds to cover up with the blanket before we see Keith running towards us.
Before he's close enough to see us clearly, he exclaims, "I heard screaming, what's wrong?"
That's when I remember Simon's shriek of pleasure earlier. It apparently was misinterpreted.
"Thank you for checking up on us, Keith. But we're completely fine." I'm trying to keep my voice neutral. In reality I have no idea if I want to laugh or to cry from humiliation.
When he sees us nude, covered by a blanket, he obviously understands what has occurred.
"Right, sorry. See you blokes for dinner later."
"See you soon, Keith," I answer because Simon is awfully quiet, practically hiding under me.
Keith is trying hard not to look embarrassed (or at us) before walking away, muttering, "...newlyweds."
As soon as Keith is gone, I chuckle against Simon.
"It was your idea, love, being this reckless..." I kiss him to sooth his nerves because Simon has gone completely red from embarrassment.
"I wasn't thinking," he admits and goes for another kiss.
"Well, nobody will stumble onto us by accident now, that's for sure," Simon adds as an afterthought…
"True. We could take another swim and see where it takes us this time," I joke.
However, Simon gets that glint in his eyes and I'm fairly certain there's more indecent behaviour waiting for us up the river...
"I married right," I tell him and he kisses me with softness and force all at once like only he can.
"I think we better wash off in the water."
Simon:
After spending a full day outdoors, Baz and I decide to stay in tonight, for our supper. Thanks to Jenny, we bring a stir fry and steaming bowl of rice back to our room before locking the door and pulling down the bamboo shades.
No unexpected visitors tonight.
There's a little round table by the window. Baz lights some tea light candles in the middle of it, and suddenly we have our very own private honeymoon supper.
Except Baz has his nose in a book. At first I'm tempted to make him put it away (what's he reading, anyway?), but then I decide to let it slide. We have been together an awful lot these past few months, ever since the tour ended, actually we were together for a lot of the tour, too. And it's not like he's neglected me today, I think to myself, remembering our interlude in the lagoon.
Our two interludes in the lagoon.
Anyway, his reading gives me time to think.
The tour was amazing… not one bit as lonely as I thought it would be… because Baz was with me on the tour more often than not. He went back a few times to help Penny with the bookshop and make sure the place hadn't burned to the ground, or something. But mostly he just traveled around with us. He could pull it off because Penny ran the shop like a pro (she ended up with a hefty pay raise and bonus, as a result).
Agatha stayed away for awhile (Baz was right… she was more embarrassed, than anything), but she eventually came back to the bookshop and started talking to Baz again. They resumed their informal photography thing again, after talking it out.
"If I'd had any idea how serious you two were…"
"I know. We weren't making that known, so it's as much our fault as yours. Just a misunderstanding."
He persuaded her to come to one of our gigs again, and finally we faced each other.
"Hey, Aggie."
"Hey."
"No hard feelings?"
"Of course not."
"How about a hug?"
"Yeah."
"Don't kiss me, though."
Agatha looked at me like she had three options: slug me (hard), walk away in a huff, or just admit that that's at least a little funny and have a laugh.
Luckily she went for the laugh, and we've been friends ever since.
Her and Penny sat by each other at the wedding (Micah on Penny's other side). They both laughed and cried during parts of our vows.
The weirdest recent contact with Agatha came a week later, just before we left for our honeymoon.
Baz wanted me to give him that last photo shoot I'd promised. He hadn't told me much about it, just that it would be in the woods and that I should wear the outfit with long grey boots again.
We went separately… he wanted to get there early and set up.
When I arrived, there were two surprises. First, Agatha was there. "Today I'm the photographer."
Second, Baz was dressed up, too. I'd never seen him like this in person… just in art photos on his website. He was dressed head to toe in black… tight black trousers and black boots. He wore a long hooded cloak that was mostly open around the bare skin of his neck and chest. His hair was down, long and loose, and his pale grey eyes were rimmed with liner. He looked ferocious and sexy as hell.
But then he grinned at me and pulled out a pair of horns. "For me?" I asked.
"No, for me. We're doing this shoot together."
"Aggie's the photographer?"
"That's right."
I'm having a hard time not staring at him. We're both wearing boots, but his heels must be higher because I have to raise my head to talk to him. And then those horns he's fixing onto his head… why is that so sexy?
I clear my throat. "So… what are we doing here? Is there a concept for this shoot?"
"Yes. We're enchanted husbands and we're standing in a grove of trees. We're holding hands. Right there."
I follow him over to the grove of trees. "You stand here, like this."
"With my back to the camera? You know I'm not trying to hide from anyone anymore, right?"
"I know, but I've had this concept for so long and I've always imagined it like this."
"Wait a minute," I say. "How long?"
"Since the beginning. Since I told you I could do this in five photo shoots."
"Was it always in your concept that we were husbands?"
A hint of color is slowly spreading across his pale, perfect face. He's not looking at me.
"'Fess up, Baz."
He sighs and looks over at Agatha, then at me (she's busy fussing over the camera, like she might change the settings. I know for a fact Baz doesn't let her change settings, so she's trying to be discreet).
"Simon, I loved you right from the beginning. So embarrassingly early I couldn't have said a word or I would have chased you off for sure."
"How many weeks in was that, even? And you already knew you wanted to marry me?"
"What can I say? I was smitten."
And with that I grabbed him by the collar of his spooky black cloak and pulled him down toward me.
"Come here, Pitch."
"That's Salisbury-Pitch, actually."
I press my lips onto his lips hard and kiss him like I'm never going to let him go (I'm not).
After a minute Agatha clears her throat behind me.
"Should I be photographing?"
I let Baz go long enough for him to answer. "Not this part. Maybe you could go back to the car and get my wizard's staff?"
I hear her sigh and walk toward the car. Baz, in his brilliance, has bought us another thirty seconds.
"I am going to nail you so hard tonight," I promise him in a fierce whisper, staring hard into his eyes. With that I let him go, and he smooths his cloak out while still looking flustered. There is slightly more color on his cheeks then is strictly normal.
Then Agatha's back, with his staff. She rolls her eyes when he leans it against a tree, out of view of the camera (because he didn't really need it), before he taking my hands in his own for the shot.
Then I'm looking up into his eyes, and he's looking down at me. And I could look at him forever, because he's perfect and this is right where I belong.
