Demure - A Sequel To Bashful ❤️

Part 4

"Come skinny dipping with me!"

"No. No way." Crossing his arms over his chest, Darryl sighed. "You do realise that anyone could see us, right?"

"Calm down, you idot. We're right on the outskirts of Venezuela, in the middle of nowhere, and there aren't any other houses for about 50 miles." Giggling slightly, Zak stepped closer. "Besides, I need every excuse I can to get you to take your clothes off."

"You're such a muffin," Darryl complained, looking out of the patio doors to the stretch of sand beyond. The moon was slowly climbing in the sky, casting a silver glow over the water, and gentle waves lapped at the shore, the ocean a pale turquoise against the navy sky.

"Hello? Earth to hubby?!"

Snapping back from his reverie, Darryl smiled. "It's so pretty at night. And don't call me that, you potato."

"Then come swimming with meeee!" Zak whined, trying to pull him out of the doors by his hands. Relenting, Darryl followed and reluctantly kicked off his shoes and socks. Seeing the gesture of defeat, Zak grinned smugly. "All of it, not just your shoes, you idot."

With that, he pulled his shirt and shorts off, tossing his boxers at Darryl's face as he made a dash for the water. Spluttering slightly, Darryl stood frozen in place, slowly turning deep red as he watched him sink waist deep in the pale water.

"Hurry up, baldie!" Zak winked, turning back to stick his tongue out. Seeing Darryl's hesitation, he casually walked back to the shore, his exposed skin pale in the moonlight. Running and grabbing him by the waist, he started to pull his shirt off too. "I know exactly what's under your clothes, so there's no point in hiding from me."

"That's not the point," Darryl groaned, anxiously looking around. "How do you know somebody can't see us?"

"I don't care. Either strip and get in with me, or I'll make you."

"Is that a threat, you muffin?" Crossing his arms stubbornly, Darryl turned away from the water - only to have a body slam into his, knocking them both to the ground. "Ow..."

"Oops," Zak sniggered, trying to be serious, "It was an accident." He shifted so that he was straddling Darryl's legs, bringing their lips together. "You're not going to win this, you know."

"I know," Darryl murmured, pulling him closer. "Your persuasion tactics are worth it, though." They fell back against the sand, hands fumbling as Zak fought to take Darryl's clothes off. Tickling him, Darryl smirked as he squirmed and shied way from his touch. "Now get off o-"

"No way." Sliding off Darryl's underwear with a triumphant grin, Zak threw his clothes back onto the patio steps, by their towels. Tracing light fingers over his chest, he rolled his eyes. "Was that so hard?"

He noticed the glint in his eyes and scowled. "Don't you dare make that pun, you moron."

"Aww, but it was a good one, you muffin," Darryl retorted, pushing him off of his lap and stepping cautiously into the shallow waves. He heard footsteps thudding behind him and turned, just in time to be slammed into (yet again) by Zak. They fell in a heap under the waves, resurfacing and gasping for air.

"Now I've got you wet," he teased, "come for a real swim with me."

"You could have just asked..." Darryl grumbled, but he followed as Zak paddled further offshore. "Don't go too far out!"

"It's fine," Zak shrugged, ignoring him. "It's not like anything would-" ducking under the surface, he tried his best to hold his breath as Darryl's shadow launched over to him. Hands clamped under his arms, and he was pulled back up to the surface.