The Woodjin: Shore Leave by Lbilover

The windmill hole at Flamingo Golf has often been my bete noire, they do give you Dum-Dums, there is a Woodies ice cream parlor across the street, and yes, there is only one place to play miniature golf on LBI and it's *not* Island Golf, no matter what anyone says!



Elijah dug his toes into the sand, still holding the warmth of the sun on top but cooler down below, and gazed out at the ocean, where a round, plump mid-September moon was rising, creating a shimmering golden path across the dark water that reached from the horizon to the shore. He had the fanciful notion that if he ran to the water's edge, he could jump onto that path and run along it until he reached the moon...


Smiling to himself at the idea, Elijah watched Sean crouch to put another piece of wood on their newly-kindled fire. The wind whipped at the flames, sending bright orange sparks dancing through the air. Sean had already put on a thick fleece pullover against the brisk breeze coming off the water, but Elijah with his higher body temperature wasn't feeling cold in his thin tee shirt. Only happy, so very, very happy.


Such a day it had been - one that brought back memories of his childhood, of carefree summer days spent at the shore with his mom and Zach and Hannah. Although even then he hadn't truly been free, but subliminally aware of a subtle tug connecting him to his dad, and reminding him of where he really belonged, all the while he swam or helped his brother create elaborate sand forts complete with pennants and tiny plastic soldiers.


He felt that same tug now, more insistent than when he was a child, warning him that he'd strayed a little too far from home and his responsibilities. But it was worth the small discomfort and the risk. He had no regrets over taking these few precious hours away from the pines, especially knowing what it meant to Sean, who had arranged it as a surprise for him. Trust his magician to make a wistful dream a reality.


"You okay?" Sean asked, sitting down beside him. "You're kind of quiet."


"Happy as a skunk in whirlwind," Elijah said. He slid his arm around Sean and hugged him. "Thank you, my magician, for a magical day."


"Then you forgive me for beating you at miniature golf?" Sean joked in typical fashion.


"It was the windmill hole that was my downfall," Elijah said. "If I hadn't kept hitting the ball between the two openings so it rolled back down the ramp, it would have been a lot closer. Anyway," he dug his hand into the front pocket of his very sandy jeans and pulled out a small rectangular blue card adorned with a flamingo that he waved triumphantly. "I got a 25 cent off coupon."


"Not to mention a strawberry flavored Dum-Dum."


"Very true."


"And the ice cream and French fries at Woodies across the street."


Elijah giggled. "You don't have to sell me on Flamingo Golf, Sean. I loved it, even if the Woods always played at Island Golf."


Sean gave a mock shudder. "Island Golf? Heresy! There's only one miniature golf place worth playing at, and that's Flamingo."


"Try and tell that to Zach, I dare you," Elijah said with a laugh. "Now what about those s'mores? I'm hungry!"


"Didn't have enough junk food for one day, Woodjin?" Sean teased, tickling his ribs.


Elijah squirmed and said, "Hey, if I'm going to have a day on Long Beach Island, I intend to do it right. Besides, we burned a lot of calories climbing the lighthouse, not to mention swimming."


"You mean indulging in horse play, don't you? I'm not sure either of us actually swam a stroke." He put his arm around Elijah and hugged him back. "It's been a grand day, hasn't it?"


"The best ever, Sean." And best of all was seeing Sean so relaxed and content. There wasn't much time in a doctor's busy life, especially one married to the Woodjin, for playing hooky.


They exchanged a kiss, salty and slightly sandy, for they hadn't been able to shower after their swim, only towel off and change into dry clothes. Then Sean removed his arm and reached for the large shopping bag that contained among other things the ingredients for making s'mores. He pulled them out one at a time like a magician taking rabbits from a hat. "Graham crackers! Hershey's chocolate bars! Vegan marshmallows! Pointy sticks!"


In short order, they were each holding two skewered marshmallows over the flames.


"So how do you like your marshmallows done?" Elijah asked.


"Incinerated," Sean replied. "Like this." The first marshmallow on his stick caught fire and quickly ignited the second one. He held up the stick, checking to be sure every part of the marshmallows was black before blowing out the flames. "Ah, perfect!"


"Sean, I can't believe you burn your marshmallows!"


"Let me guess: you go for a nice uniform light brown."


"Uh-huh." Elijah held his stick carefully above the flames and turned it slowly.


"Takes a lot longer to enjoy your s'mores that way." Sean scraped the charred mess of marshmallow onto a chocolate covered Graham cracker and smushed it down with another cracker. He waited a minute or so for the chocolate to melt then took a large bite. "Oh my god, that is so good," he uttered thickly. He held the s'more out to Elijah. "Want a bite?"


Elijah couldn't resist. He bit into it, closed his eyes and moaned with pleasure, not even minding the slight charcoal taste. The rest more than made up for it.


"Uh-oh," Sean said, "looks like your marshmallows are on fire."


So they were. Elijah just laughed, blew out the flames and assembled his first s'more.


They ate s'mores until they were stuffed and groaning, then lay back on their blanket to admire the night sky, Elijah's head pillowed on Sean's chest. The moon rose higher, turning from orange to palest gold, and an occasional shooting star streaked across the sky as if to add a final finishing touch to the glories of the day.


Sean slid his fingers into Elijah's salt stiffened hair and lazily stroked a pedicle, and Elijah hummed with pleasure and cuddled closer. Their small campfire might be dying, but the ever-present fire inside them was awakening.


"The beach is totally deserted except for us," Sean observed. "How about one more swim before we head back?"


"A swim?" Elijah arched a skeptical eyebrow.


"Well, euphemistically speaking." Sean got up and held out his hand to Elijah, who took it and was pulled to his feet.


They quickly shed their clothes and ran hand in hand and naked as jaybirds into the ocean. It was warm as a baby's bath and they dove past the first line of waves hissing onto the sand and emerged chest deep where only gentle swells disturbed the moon-silvered water. They goofed around for a while, laughing breathlessly as they wrestled and dunked each other, but it was really a form of foreplay, with 'accidental' brushes of hand in sensitive places, designed to arouse.


At length, breathing hard, they stood facing each other, hands now resting lightly on the ocean's undulating surface.


Elijah leaned in and licked away a salty trickle snaking down Sean's neck, ending at the base where a pulse beat a rapid tattoo. He fastened his lips over the wet skin and sucked, hard.


"Oh shit." A shudder ran through Sean and beneath the water his aroused cock jumped, brushing like liquid fire against Elijah's.


Elijah raised his head. Sean's eyes were needy, his face open and vulnerable in the moonlight. "Sean," he whispered, thinking how very beautiful his husband was and how badly he wanted to give him everything he needed, bring him to mindless pleasure.


Bracing his hands on sea-slick shoulders, Elijah boosted himself up and wrapped his legs around Sean's waist. "Take me," he said simply, and Sean did. Holding Elijah's hips in a bruising grip, Sean entered him in a swift, silken glide, and they moved, buoyant and weightless, in the warm embrace of the ocean, cries muffled by fevered kisses.


They returned to the blanket on shaky legs, toweled off and pulled on their clothes. Sean kicked sand over the fire's embers while Elijah shook out the blanket and folded it, placing it with the damp towels in a nylon carry-all, and put the remains of the s'mores ingredients in the shopping bag.


Though everything was packed up, they lingered on the beach, neither quite ready to see their magical day come to an end. But it was increasingly hard for Elijah to ignore the invisible tether, stretched almost painfully tight now, and besides, to take any more would be greedy, he decided. His heart was full to overflowing as it was, with love and happiness and content.


"I'm ready to go now," he said softly.


They climbed the slippery sand to the boardwalk where they'd left their shoes. At the top, Elijah took one last look behind him at moonlight shining on dark water, one last breath of tangy salt air. Then he slipped on his sandals and followed Sean back to the car, already looking forward to the joy of homecoming, where Rocky, Maggie and Fred would be waiting.


~end~