10 Insane

"Dear diary, it has been one week since I was kidnapped and enslaved," Max said in a grave voice. "These people are evil and have no morals or ethics. They make me do their dirty work… I have reason to believe they won't keep me alive for much longer. They started starving me the day I got here. Little food and water-"

"What are you doing?" a voice from behind made Max jump three feet, his heart pounding like it was going to explode.

"You scared the absolute sh-" Max started.

Micah raised an eyebrow, watching Max breathe like he just ran a marathon and the blood return to his face.

Max cleared his throat. "I was just, um, talking to myself while I cleaned… why? Did it, uh, sound like anything or something?" Max laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head.

Micah sighed. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to babysit anyone— he wanted to be in on the action!

But no. He was ordered to keep Maximus Maas here until told otherwise.

Which, made Micah a tad grumpy.

"Just… stop causing trouble," Micah sighed, frustrated.

Max looked at the tired man. He was taller than Max himself, broad-shouldered with golden hair and piercing blue eyes. This man looked like he could snap an average person's arm in half.

With one hand.

But whatever.

"You seem…" Max started before he was shot an angry look by Micah, daring him to finish that sentence. "… like you don't want to be here…"

"Really?" Micah said sarcastically. "What gave it away?"

Max frowned. "Is there anywhere we're allowed to go outside of the house?"

Micah was quiet for a moment. Technically, no. But, the beach was at the bottom of the cliffs and Max would have to either swim a mile out to go around the cliffs in the water, or somehow hinder Micah long enough to get away from him and run back up the stairs to go… nowhere. There were guards stationed everywhere even though it was only Micah and Max in the house.

Micah eyed Max for a second before walking up to him. He got so close to Max that the latter had to lean back.

Micah's face was so close to his that he could smell the man's minty breath.

"If you try anything, I am dragging your sorry ass back in here and locking you in that room for only God knows how long. Got it?" Micah asked.

Max smiled, holding up his closed fist with his pinky up. "Pinky promise."

~

Micah tiredly sat down in the warm, fluffy sand as Max strolled the shoreline, picking up an occasional seashell. He glanced at Micah and saw the handsome man partially close his eyes as he rested his head on his fist. His sun-bleached hair shone in the golden rays and his lightly tanned skin was illuminated. In his light blue tank top and brown cargo shorts, all he needed was a seashell necklace to complete the whole surfer look he had going for him.

Max chuckled to himself as he sat down at the edge of the water. True, he could probably escape no problem— he had also been trained in defense and martial arts. But… this was pretty nice.

Max looked out amongst the beautiful blue water. This was the life he wanted. Salty air, white sand, glittering waves. Whether that meant he was destined to be alone forever, or…

He looked back over at the sleeping man who was snoring lightly.

Max sighed. A longing loneliness settled inside of him.

But he soon relaxed and got up. He walked over to Micah and laid down next to him, his left forearm laying over his eyes. It wasn't long before he fell asleep to the soothing sound of waves, dreaming of the life he longed for and someone to share it with.

A few hours had passed before one of them woke up. The first to wake was Micah, who sleepily looked around the empty beach.

Empty beach.

His eyes shot open and he stood up so fast sand went flying in all directions. He eyes scanned the beach looking for that idiot-

He looked down suddenly and found Max asleep next to him with his arm covering half his face. Something deep inside of him twanged and he made a weirded out face. He was about to nudge Max when the latter stretched suddenly, yawning. Max's hard-earned muscles bulged as he stretched, the white shirt pulled taught against his lean torso.

Max opened his eyes and looked at the shadow in front of him. The five o'clock sun cast rays of light across the water in a shimmering mirage, the sky turning deep purples and blues.

"How was your nap?" Max asked with a yawn.

"Good," Micah said, surprised that it was actually quite nice. He felt a lot better. Perhaps it had been all those sleepless nights of anxiety and doubt.

He unconsciously held a hand out to Max.

Both were surprised, but even more so when Max took it. Micah pulled him up to his feet before quickly letting go of his hand. Both men had a nice nap and replenished their energy.

Micah was ready to head back up to the house, but Max was not. He had only ever been to the beach once and that was a long time ago. He didn't want to go back just yet.

He walked to the edge of the water, the waves rushing over his feet as he continued walking in.

Micah ran over in a panic. "What are you doing?"

Max looked over his shoulder. "Relax, I'm not going in. I can't even swim," he laughed.

Micah frowned. Can't swim? He watched Max wade in up to his knees before sitting down in the water. Micah's panic level went up a notch.

Max let the gentle wave wash over him, tiny bubbles clung to his torso as the water receded before washing back over— this time over his shoulders.

Micah waded in over to Max. "The tide's coming in. We need to get back up. And you can't stay here if you can't swim."

Max stood up, his now transparent white shirt sticking to his muscled body. Micah didn't understand why his eyes wandered and he had a hard time looking away. He'd seen male bodies before, why was he feeling any different now.

Max, oblivious, was smiling easily and pulled Micah's arm.

Micah, caught off guard, stumbled into the water, getting completely soaked. Max laughed before walking over to Micah.

"Sorry, you looked like you needed a little cooling off," Max chuckled.

Micah looked up at him before swiping his leg under Max's— sending the man crashing into the water. When he came up, his wet hair was sticking to his head, but he was still smiling.

A bigger wave came over the both of them.

When they came back up, both were smiling.

Micah loved the ocean— he grew up in it. It was home for him.

The young men looked at each other, shaking the hair away from their heads, laughing lightly.

Micah's heart felt lighter, less heavy and burdened and not filled with so much anxiety.

Max looked over at the man staring at him, his hazel eyes illuminated by the golden sun rays. Max's lips parted as he lost his breath, watching Micah stand up. The water rolled off his very muscled body, his icy blue eyes peering at him from behind his golden hair. Max was glad for the water, otherwise he wouldn't be able to get up without facing horrific mortification.

Micah brushed his hair back, much to Max's silent dismay and helped the latter up again. "We gotta head back inside."

Max nodded and turned around, grateful for the cool breeze that chilled his skin. "Can we come back out tomorrow? Or… at least another time?" he asked hopefully.

Micah was doubtful, but didn't want to crush his hope. "Maybe."

Max smiled, happy and content.

But those feelings quickly vanished when Micah stepped in front of him to take the lead up the stairs, pulling a flashlight out of his soaked shorts. The stairs were hidden in the cliff so it was much darker.

Max tried not to look at the sculpted behind in front of his face, but it was really hard.

Really, really hard.