( KEKOA KEKUMANO, HOMOSEXUAL, CISMALE HE/HIM, TANK ) «—◦—→ well met, LUKA LAM! the divine born child of DEMETER your name sings in our ears! it’s been 22 years and now they have answered the song in their veins. before they answered the song, they were resort staff and were living in maui, hawaii. history and myth will remember them for their CHARM, TEAMWORK, and ENERGY but will also magnify their JUDGEMENT, HESITATION, and CLUELESSNESS if it causes them to falter. now it is time for the world to sing their name with them.
luka lam, 22.
resort employee for 2 years.
born to...someone, cared for by his grandmother, makana.
aquarius sun, capricorn moon, aquarius ascending. which he mostly knows from an old best friend, who always told him he was meant to go off the beaten path.
fully homosexual.
down for a good time.
down to keep a secret.
grew up in a less famous, less affluent part of california, under his grandmother's care. when she had to return to her roots, he went with her.
getting a job was easy. fitting in was not. he was hired for his looks, not his locality; so he talked less, and he smiled more. he didn't need to talk when someone liked what they saw.
some really liked what they saw.
some of them were the guys he worked with.
some of the guys he worked with liked what they saw but didn't want anyone to know.
luka was usually down.
he didn't pack many shirts. maybe one or two.
he didn't pack much of anything; it felt like stealing, taking what his grandmother's family gave him.
he came alone, and he came quietly, in the night.
he came, because the life around him seemed to reach towards him.
he came, because he was a little over having to cover for multiple someones.
he came, because something called.
big brown eyes | my eyes are up here | laugh it off | bro it up | throw it down | down to clown | easy is as easy does | life finds a way
the silence without hearing the plants stopped becoming a problem when he stopped paying attention to it. communicating with touch, with signal, with sign; with intention, became more natural. some say you lose one sense, and the others become stronger.
luka was beginning to learn how to deal with, and then to live in, silence.
in that silence, came reflection. introspection. consideration. questions, and then answers. an understanding of sorts. a solidifying of goals.
packing up the greenhouse was more like folding up his clothes, and then taking all his plants to where they'd likely best grow on their own. if that meant a bit of travel, then so be it; more time to consider, to think, to conclude. traditionally, luka wasn't a thinker. but without the constant chatter of nearby plants in his mind, he actually had the space to practice. there was more space for himself, in there, in the quiet.
when all was said and done, luka looked at the then-empty greenhouse. he wondered if it would fade, or vanish, or simply be filled with someone else. and he didn't regret it; briar seemed to have things well enough in hand. if demeter needed him, she could probably yank him and throw him wherever. probably no stopping that.
there were one or two more stops to make on his way out, but they knew who they were. luka wasn't saying goodbye. it was more of a see you later.
not for anything in particular or specific, but simply late in general. his presence would have been missed, were anything around to bear it. luka didn't wake up because the flowers didn't sing with the sun, the vines didn't slide to better soak the light.
or, all those did happen, but luka's ears were deaf to the efforts.
when he did slowly blink awake, coming aware, it's to a dead sort of silence. the murmuring, the constant hum, it had faded to a background noise but now, living without it, luka wondered if he could hear anything at all. the shifting of the blankets disproved that, but the sound was so tied to the sensation he could almost believe it.
the greenhouse was a space of light, of life.
the greenhouse was alive. it just lived on without him.
checking his phone, he's fumbling a little, left in the shadow without the mental touch to shift vines and leaves to leave him some sun. unread messages, new and old. a call, or three.
it's quiet, in there. a quiet he hadn't heard since before taking that first step into the wide green unknown. he took a shot at a titan, knowing full-well what happened the last time someone did. but heaven help him if he wasn't angry. if he didn't need the titan-god-whatever to feel some inkling of what he'd inflicted to people who had no awareness, no capability, nothing to do with any of it--
even feeling it again, then, the new rage welled from within.
he was only sleeping with two men as of yet, but that wouldn't stop him from leaving a snail trail of his own. (it's perfectly harmless sap, honestly.)
@creatlcn
location: Pluckley Village, England
notes: october event
Was it cruel to arrive in England’s most haunted village after sunset? Maybe. Considering the town had no street lighting and a rumoured thirteen or fourteen ghosts, the autumnal evening fog crept eerily through the trees and seeped over the old stone road. “This isn’t so bad.” Samson commented, he wasn’t exactly shaken easily but there was this creepy feeling that they were being watched, or at least, that he was. A little more… on edge than usual, when he looked toward Luka, Samson’s eyes went a bit large. “You just looked at me like you saw something…” he quickly looked over his shoulder, “what did you see?”
more than glad for the chance to get out, get around, luka kept one arm around samson as they walked along. between the two of them, samson usually took to these things much more readily, much more easily.
so, if samson was spooked, then luka was likely doomed. unless he could somehow root himself.
turning to look at the guy, luka had started with a grin, but it faded quickly. "brrrr...--" cutting the word off. habit. "babe." trying that one on. "is this one of the places that dresses people up and pays them to be spooky?" dark eyes left wide. "you can lie to me, it's cool."
to most, luka would be largely the same. a little absent-minded, a little clumsy, a lot loud. the first in, the last out. of the baths, in the gardens, at the training area. but those who knew luka a little more closely might recognize the pause between lines. the knot between his brows, when he couldn't manage to smooth it.
mostly everyone was focused on one thing, which luka totally understood. it made sense. that just meant he kept his own thing closer to his chest.
an empty bed in the artemis cabin. a fire without vigil late at night.
after the sun's gone down, luka was making his own rounds. moonlit, phone in one hand, scrolling through whatever research he could find towards flowers that'd bloom at night.
and if someone interrupted him, he'd yelp and jump as always.
“Damn it-” Samson exhaled, watching his cock slide out of Luka before pushing right back in again. Luka’s deft, worn fingers brushing against the shaft - grazing the base of the crown as Samson drew back - holding his sack back for the son of Apollo’s purview. Loverboy was a fucking star, all firm musculature that knew where to stress, and where to pull: a masterwork of floral grace and earthly power. Heat rising, chest burning, something within his breast felt like it might sing as soft, ambient lights began to drift in motes around them. “don't worry, Lover. I intend to.”
Luka could epitomize every jock that Samson had ever imagined in this very position, bent and arching, needy and wanting. A real bro in the tight, muscular body of Samson’s closest friend - brofriend, boyfriend, whatever definition they landed on he’d settle into it neatly. Affectionately, desperately. Samson’s hips snapped forward with sudden precision, enough to jolt the bed and the flower boy beneath him. Another snap as Samson sank forward and blanketed his heavy, muscular frame across Luka’s - nuzzling into his neck as he sucked a mark below the other’s ear. A kiss of sorts, as Samson delivered steady but shallow thrusts into the other.
“I love you,” Samson breathed, the calloused hand of the former miner bracing against Luka’s hip as he withdrew enough to look fully into the other’s eyes, heavy body laid on him as his free hand stroked idly through Luka’s hair. The short, soft, pinstraight strands chording seamlessly through his fingers as the tips brushed against Luka’s scalp, the blue of Samson’s eyes fixing only a few inches away from the warm brown hues of the other. His mouth twitched, something akin to a smirk as he leaned forward to capture Luka’s mouth on his own, more tongue than lips before he spoke again, strong arms curling under Luka’s waist as he kept the same, steady tandem. “Hang onto me.”
there probably wasn't any need to put on such a show, for samson; luka could get fucked by him, could lay back and let the guy usually getting bounced do the bouncing, but luka wanted to give him more. he wanted samson to get the full picture, the full experience. he didn't just want samson to cum, he wanted to make it happen. to test samson's limits, to make him feel good inside and out, to make him feel hot. and wanted. "--mm, all the fuckin' time. over and over." sunlight warm on skin, what might be apollo's touch seeping through samson's fingers.
a few times, luka did bounce, reveling in it. breathing slow, flexing all the right places, relaxing all the others. making a meal of himself, a feast for eyes as well as sensation, but he paused at those words. eyes soft, almost shining, as he looked down himself and up at samson. the man on top of him. the man at his side. the man who followed him into battle and led him into haunted houses. "you-- yeah?" brows high. "I. yeah, I mean." blinking, rapidly. "fuck." samson was draped over him, pressing down, the warmest kind of covering. blinding, apparently, as luka was briefly dazed. he gave into the kiss, gave into the fuck, less for show and more for meaning. to help find the words, to get there, as his arms wrapped tighter around samson, holding him close, knees bending back, folding himself in half;
"I-- I love you, too," likely made a bit comedic with the lilt under his lungs from samson's hips, but he meant it. brown eyes and bared soul, he meant it. "love you, bro. love you love you love you--" head falling back as he surrendered more fully, eyes sliding shut, grin wide, body gone slack to better take the slam of samson's thighs. luka's insides gripping, but not restricting, closing around samson just enough to feel even better as his stomach went soft and slack. everywhere but his arms and his cock, running a river that pooled in his own navel, when he didn't bob and swing to streak elsewhere.
Luka started speaking and Samson’s eyes just sort of went wide, staring with his mouth slightly agape while his face went redder and redder. How’s that? He asked - ? Having gone from salacious, to sultry, to strangely romantic. At least, romance by any bro standards, but then again, Luka had been quick to correct even that at the beginning.
“Luka.” Samson looked away, scratching suddenly nervously at the side of his face. Managing to look at the other in the eyes, somehow so capable of navigating his thoughts - categorizing his feelings - but struggling with vocalizing them now. “Okay.”
Okay.
“Not- no, not like okay okay, that was all really, really hot. I meant okay in the affirmative like… yes to um, to uh… all of those things.” Luka had said lose control and somehow that equated to every nerve in Samson’s body drawing his muscles a bit more taut, core tensing visibly even as his tongue passed over his lips; the warm brush of sensation as Luka’s hole brushed against the beading tip of Samson’s cock. “Okay like…” he managed his suavest voice, comically so, “Okaaaay, that was really hot.”
Samson slid forward, pushing himself more firmly between his thighs as the heavy crown pushed against that tight, muscular ring- sliding past Luka’s resistance to sink forward, inch by inch without much room for acclimation until he was fully sheathed within. He stilled for just a moment as a shudder ran up his spine, actively trying to keep from arriving too prematurely; this wasn’t a role he was used to but- a subtle buck of his hips to test his own constitution.
Unsurprisingly, it was strong. Straightening up to take in the view, the corner of Samson’s mouth quirked even as it hung slightly agape. “I could stare at this all day.” He confessed, hand moving to wrap around Luka’s cock, confidence still in full as he drew his hips back then languidly pushed them forward as he found a deep, steady rhythm. “You’re so sexy, lover boy.” His pace began to pick up, a sharp brow raised, “Ready for me?”
like, sure, he could believe that, but it didn't always sink in. until moments like these, when his knees were up and his back was bent, his elbows were on the bed to prop himself up, and he'd just spilled out his fantasies for samson to see. bare. exposed. more naked than naked; hell, getting fucked felt less intimate than this, but here they were.
samson, gazing down at him with a bit of shock, a bit of awe, and a hell of a lot of dusting over his cheeks. "yeah?" grin half-cocked, but full-beam. "fuck yeah." clearly, samson was inspired, since he began to fuck into luka in earnest, which had him arching and bending, trying to help the angle as much as he was dealing with the spread. luka didn't get fucked all those times just for social comfort-- he liked it. really, really liked it. and having samson being the one pulling him apart, spreading him open, just made it that much better.
face relaxed, expression soft, it was his turn to gaze up at samson a little raw, a little real. brown eyes wide, aimed up. bouncing, with the pace of samson's hips finding that well-worn path along his insides. "can see it any time you want," offered back. quiet, but just a little cocky. definitely all luka. biting his lip at getting grabbed, he just tried to nod, fingers curling into the sheets. "all fuckin' ready. all yours." breathing slow, low in his stomach, letting it expand inside and out -- making more room for samson to take. "gotta give it to you real good. show you what I can do."
some would say there isn't much one can do on a dick, but some weren't silently tasked with trying to keep a small army of 'straight' guys interested. settling his weight on his shoulders, luka used his hips to help match samson's movement. full-length, full-depth, getting every inch he could of that dick before letting it go again. staring into samson's eyes, nodding, encouraging, as he slid a hand down his own stomach. knocking his balls aside to feel where he was fucked-- fingers spreading over his stretched him, brushing samson's shaft, bumping the flare of his head if he'd pull that far. spreading apart, to really let samson see himself disappear into luka's body. the way his rim tugged out just a bit with samson's cock, fed back in on each slide.
There was a strong point there, their shared peculiarities made embracing his own quirks a bit more palatable. Easier to understand when held up to the comparison of others… Not that Samson was ready to start looking inward and ask what it was about Luka’s floral skin or Bear’s metallic body that interested him so much: same with the prospect of fangs, fur, horns, scales and more. Why did it matter? That they were real at all was fantastical enough.
“You mean on our next date.” Samson offered a long, finger crooking before it was joined by a second, working the other open, a while felt like a slight understatement if the way Luka was bearing down on him was anything to go off of.
Feeling just a tad called out as Luka turned and found the corner of his mouth to kiss; Samson felt his face flush a little, though it was accompanied with his own playful laughter rather than any genuine embarrassment. Withdrawing just to wrangle, turning Luka onto his back, sliding between his thighs, hands finding Luka’s hips as he rolled his hard cock against the cleft of his ass. One sliding firmly over the other's abdomen, “I just-” he tugged at the inner corner of his cheek, “I want to be good at… this part, for you.” Samson pushed, gliding the crown against that tight, muscular ring as he slipped against him. “Tell me what else you want.”
nearly any other time a guy was on top of him, luka felt 'better' in some way. felt wanted, felt seen, felt cared for, if only by one particular appendage, and often only until it'd leave a mess inside him. or on him. not here, though, not now. luka felt warmer, felt hotter, but there wasn't that grounding sense of self being affirmed by hands pawning at his tan cheeks, at his warm pucker.
luka felt good, before they'd even gotten towards any kind of sex. and that's one of the ways luka knew he was in good hands.
"is it spooky again?" luka asked half-heartedly, samson likely feeling the flutter of tension at his core. "I mean, I can do scary. with you there." big, bold, and brash luka, clinging to the arm of one made to face things most weren't made for. when he wasn't clinging to that finger inside him. "woah--hey?!" laughing as he's flipped over, flopped out, hard and slapping against his own soft stomach, head slick enough to make a bit of a slap.
"bro--" reflex, by that point. "samson." trying to level warm brown eyes and lock gaze with the man pulling his cheeks apart. "fuck," word a soft exhale, tip to tested rim. "s'gonna be good, cuz it's gonna be you." hands finding firm, broad sides. "could push and nut halfway inside me, and I'd fuck myself stupid on you cuz you nutted in me." words a little mushed from how soft he was speaking, lips not moving nearly as much, but eyes and heart full of meaning. luka shifted his hips up and down, teasing samson's tip with his anus as he pushed, wanting to get more of that excitement slick against him. "I wanna feel you lose control," he offered. "I want to make you feel good. I want to feel good with you. I wanna take a nap and wake up to you nutting in me, or even left open after you hit it while I was asleep. I wanna be all warm and cozy with you, pressed against you on a couch. all slow and stuff." if he wasn't hard before, he certainly was now. "I wanna push you against the wall in the baths and make you have to take another one, after you just got out. and I wanna hang out at all the scary places even if I jump three feet in the air and gotta squeeze your arm to keep going."
Quite consumed by fitting in, by being one of the guys, by being accommodating and playing the part. It was never hard for Samson to see the parallel between them, “It wasn’t really as easy for me,” he admitted, “fitting in, I mean. I don’t think blending was ever an option.” He’d tried, but in some regards he’d translated that into a strength. It made the sense of self he’d harbored here more steadfast, certain. “I’ll iron your shirts for you,” Samson offered, lightening the mood by pressing an intentional kiss behind the shell of Luka’s ear - someplace where the skin was thinner, and vaguely ticklish.
It paired with a bit of a firmer press, the tip of Samson’s finger pushing through that tight, muscular ring - sliding with the resistance with a deft digit that was used to playing strings, and inside the son of Apollo himself. Crooking as he angled less toward preparation and more toward a bundle of sensations that focused more on pleasure.
“So not the kind of operation I like to play.” Liked to play, don’t touch the sides was a fun little pastime when he’d been - however age appropriate that game was. In this particular role and position, Samson was still building confidence; there was a strong part of him that worried if he tried to be more assertive that he’d just come across as a bit… silly. “I don’t want to just fuck you-” so crass, but it didn’t feel as heavy on his tongue as Samson often worried, “I want to cover every inch of you, play with your cock until your bust all over us, and do that deep passionate until your guts are more me than you.”
"at least we're all some kinda weird, here." himself very, very included in that. and it helped. ever since that first walk through the apollo cabin party. "what shirts?" luka teased, still pressing back to show he appreciated the gesture. "maybe the nice ones, for when we go outta town. into town. whichever."
pressure pushing right where he wanted it, luka gasped at first, then sighed long and low, body relaxing not just around samson's finger, but underneath him entirely. "fuuuuck, it's been a minute, bro." soaking in the attention, in the weight above him, in the words-- "that sounds so good, holy shit." rutting down against the sheets. he'd been half hard since samson spread out on him, but all bets were off with all that playing in his head. "I like all of that? especially the 'my guts more you than me' part. that's." he shivered, and chuckled. "pretty fuckin' hot, damn." turning his head, to press half a smile against wherever on samson he could reach. "you been practicing?" backpedaling, "not kidding! you made me throb with all that. and I want it."
voice softer, less the brash front of luka and more the softer, affectionate, well-meaning romantic underbelly. "I really want it."
“You’re talking to someone who irons his shirts twice, once out of the dryer and once before I put them on-” physically quite hard now, “it was much hotter that you put it back for me.” This was probably saying a lot more about him than he was ready to dig into, especially when there was something else his mind was wandering toward digging into. “Whenever I want… Gladly, happily,” he snickered against his friend’s skin, clearly really- really drawn to the son of Demeter. “Next time you sleep in my bed though, I’d like to be there too.” Enjoying the added expanse, straining against denim, Samson rolled into the buck - seizing the other’s hips for a beat before his hand slid down the curve of Luka’s muscular ass, slipping between them along with the other’s cleft.
Pressing, massaging, but not pushing in - certainly not dry - but more playful and teasing if nothing else. “And if I touch you like this?” A firmer press, the rough pad of the musician’s fingers massaging against that tight, muscular ring. Samson was still testing the waters, he enjoyed… what he enjoyed, but discovering those things was a work in progress. Luka, in all his facets, accepting and warm, made it that much easier to explore - and there was a very active part of him that hoped he felt he could do the same.
chucking, the sound warm-- "bro I don't think I've ironed..." the memory flashing back hard enough to furrow his brows, just briefly. "first time I showed up for work. at the resort, at least. had my dumb shirt all flat and pressed, all the ladies in the family house fussin over me, and when I got there?" amused, "the boys were kinda ticked. made 'em look bad. so I didn't iron anymore." he couldn't quite look up at samson, but his expression still softened regardless, with the thought. "huh." then, with a wider grin, "oh you bet. didn't make your place all clean and fresh not to crash in there." in bed, with samson. soft and warm and laughing--
and gasping, breath sinking into a grunt, as samson teased him. probed him. "mmm--" the noise obvious, not needing translation. "more than good," he echoed. "more than great." practice let him flex and relax, gripping against samson's finger, even dry; just showing what the muscle can do, complete with a pop of his cheeks around samson's knuckles. if he needed any reminder as to how...experienced...luka might be in that regard. "kinda wanna say you can touch me wherever you want, inside and out." letting that hang for a bit. "s'long as you don't, like, play doctor or whatever. only want you in there, not tools." grinning again, then, "maybe one tool." spread so wide, so loose and relaxed, luka felt freer around samson than most others. not all, but most. free to explore, to be explored. pushing his hips back to encourage the probing.
As Luka seemed to expand, stretching lazily like something feline in the sun, Samson took his opportunity to brush his hand across the other’s pec, finding the bud before it was swallowed by Luka’s settling body against the plush mattress. “My room was very lemony, by the way.” He’d come by to say thank you but in his way hadn’t been able to resist taking up space in the other’s bed much in the way Luka had occupied Samson’s. “And I saw everything was put back after too, much appreciated.” A little, playful tweak, the smooth line of his freshly-shaved jaw preening a bit against Luka’s neck.
“Admittedly, I have nothing planned,” Samson offered with an easy breeze, squeezing a bit tighter as he rolled intentionally against him, face resting neatly against the crook of Luka’s neck - Samson’s nose brushing gently against the dusting of fine hair there, “I was just thinking of you, benefit of being neighbours is I get to stop by whenever I feel like it…” He managed to wiggle out of his shirt, polo discarded somewhere beside him as he saddled warm skin against warm skin, mapping Luka with his hands even as he snuggled against his backside. “This still okay?”
stretched to the point of bending slightly backwards, luka was utterly defenseless against any assault on his notably perky chest. he shivered at first, when he'd been found. "hey, you're more than welcome, bro." warm, soft, comfortable like this; however samson was with other guys, luka liked him like this. pressing down on him with all that bulk and broad build. "of course I was gonna put it all back. --unless it was gonna be, like, hotter if I'd left it out, so you knew I'd used it, and--" cut off by a yelp, luka bucked underneath samson, voice high before melting down into a rolling laugh. hard enough to shake the both of them, as he melted into the sheets once again.
"oh, please?" he didn't mean to sound so pathetic. "please come over whenever you want, I mean." sighing, pleased, with that bare chest against his warm back. "more than okay. so fuckin' okay. the most okay." bare butt shifting, side to side, against samson's clothed front. "what's more okay than okay? great?" shifting his arms to spread his back wider, make himself a broader mattress for samson to nuzzle into. "s'great. very great. please come over all the time."
that, at least, earns a laugh before he can bite it back, ignoring the immediate urge to brush it off because... he kinda was? not some household name, but he'd put in work, and saw results for it.
"top 100 restaurants in the country big deal?" they didn't have stars or anything like that, but it was still something to be proud of. humming a little at the questions that followed, sinking a little further and actively considering. "I think I wouldn't be opposed to it, but it's not something like... immediately in the cards? more it's still there as an option if I decide to hang up the whole... demigod mantle and all the stress that comes with it." a beat, before turning his eyes on Luka properly. "how about you, bag to resort life if you decide to step back from all this? embrace a new life growing weird and wonderful things in some tropical corner of the world?"
"uh. yeah." he didn't even wanna try to imagine how many restaurants there were in the country, for this guy to beat out all but a hundred of them. "that's fuckin crazy, bro." looking over the man, gus seemed like any other guest he would've seen at the resort. just a guy. handsome, fit, sure, but a regular joe all the same. knowing that-- the context, the skill, the capability and capacity, made him so much more interesting.
and a little intimidating.
"what, me? ha-- fuck no." amused, letting his head fall back. "that was just work where my tutu was living. worked out for the both of us when she got invited to move home." convenience. the fact that he looked enough like the others to get in easy, convenient. "what I wanna do next, is, uh." turning a little pink in the cheeks. "I wanna grow food for people. like, around the world. so many folks can't eat when they need to, and I got fuckin fruit up to my elbows, you know?"
Affirmation had Samson nuzzling his face a bit deeper into the crook of Luka's neck, sinking deeper into his best friend as the other pushed back against him. His own clean-shaven cheek planting against Luka's as the other craned his neck, just so.
“You just looked so comfy…” Samson sighed, trailing off a little when that squirming finally stopped, he didn't make any motion to move his bulky frame, instead he just seemed to make himself a bit more comfortable. Blooming warmth against the crook of Luka's backside obvious enough, “and sleepy- figured you could use a little recharge.” Hence the intense body contact, to punctuate this, an arm snuck under Luka's torso, coiling the other in something of a grip. Holding fast, snuggling into him.
pressure, pressing down into almost all the places he could possibly want it. luka's answering hums were warm, wide, and pleased. the breadth of his bare back spreading as he shifted under samson, trying to soak up all the contact he could get.
"even more comfy now," he half-groaned. rutting his butt up against samson was just part of the rhythm at that point, only more accentuated when samson's chest was pressed into his upper back, squeezed and held as he was cuddled into. "that's me," offered in a stretch. thighs long, back bending, pulling his voice taut before he'd melt into the bed again. "your big, warm, cuddle-charged muscle-bro." he barely finished getting all the words out before laughing, the sound bright jostling them both.
"what'chu got goin on today?" the question a bit quieter than he'd been before that. gently offered, a feather on a pillow. "would llll..." trip, stumble, even while laying fully flat. "really like a little time like this, I think." another rub, cheeks to front. "little bit of a morning in bed "
It wasn't hard to see why those dreams would be having such a heavy effect on most of them. Forced to confront issues they'd rather have left simmering beneath the surface, challenged to view things differently. Sure, some people seemed less knocked by it, but Gus knew he was still pretty much just free floating until it properly sunk in.
"realized I'd been putting blame on him for things that really weren't on him." he needed to figure out how to rebuild that bridge, but Gus liked to think he'd at least put down a few of the planks to start it. see how things went from here, but it was a step in the right direction if nothing else. the small wave tossed in his direction was met with a far more dramatic response to play it up.
at least until he kicked some water back the others way. just a little. "probably the go home part, less so on the love magic stuff. probably just check in on my restaurant, make sure things are going as well as I'm hearing they are."
laughing, luka only half-attempted to block the splash in return, relishing the way heat tickled and spread from the spray. like being coated in steam, like every part of him was the same, wet and hot in the same way. it's relaxing, inside and out.
"oh shit, that's right. you're like, a big-deal chef guy." as much egging gus on as expressing interest. "you leave that behind, right? I mean-- I've had some of the grub that's gone around after your hand, and." shaking his head. "better than I ever saw at the resort. like, fuck, bro." all of that had to come from somewhere. "you ever gonna go back? like, for good?"
