Hunter at Sea by Jevic    Hunter at Sea
by Jevic, The Tarheel Writer
Chapter Four
"Choices"

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Throckmorton Island Lagoon
Action Adventure
Violence
Sexual Situations
Rated Teen 13+

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    "That's the last grid, capt'n," Ted said quietly. "Sorry we didn't find the boat." Max banked the Guardian to the right. "Uh, capt'n. The base is the other way."
    "I know. We've got enough fuel for thirty more minutes and I wanna check out a hunch." Ted shrugged his shoulders.
    "You're the boss." Ted tried to figure out what kind of hunch his captain had as he continued to scan the waters of the Atlanta below them.
    Max Westphal had been the lead search team captain for almost a decade. In Coast Guard circles, he was the best. Grid searches were monotonous, but necessary. Trying to find a lost ship at sea was frustrating at best. Somehow, Max Westphal overcame the frustration and succeeded in finding what others wrote off as a lost cause. His gut instincts were legendary. Many a co-pilot questioned his judgment and his methodology. The celebrated captain often just struck out on an unknown tangent and found what he was looking for.
    In reality, Max relied on instinct and an understanding of the Atlantic Ocean. Once the grid was covered, he put his mind to work. A sailboat was missing. The squall winds were from the west, pushing the sailboat to the east. The squall had moved from the mainland well out into the Atlantic, probably past the Gulf Stream. According to all the weather data, the winds after the squall have been primarily southerly. Without the effects of the north bound Gulf Stream, the sailboat would have been pushed south. The search grid covered the area where the missing boat should have been, given its last course and destination. That was the best place for book-learned men to start. Men with years of experience knew that it didn't always play out that way.
    Max flew well south of the search grid. Ted could only scan the waters as his captain followed his infamous hunch. The feeling was familiar. Ted had been on more than one mission when his captain went out on a tangent. It still amazed Ted as to how Max seemed to home in on an unseen and undetected signal, ultimately zeroing in on the missing boat.
    The simple fact was that, the prevailing winds would have pushed a sailboat south. It was just a matter of figuring out how far out to sea the craft had been pushed before those winds took over. Max counted on the missing sailboat to be pushed toward the Bahamas and its some odd seven hundred islands covering over one hundred thousand square miles of crystal-clear water. Many of those islands were privately owned. That didn't matter. A sailboat with a strong southerly would be pushed in the direction Captain Westphal was flying. His many years of experience told him the missing sailboat was close by.
    Max was the first one to try and influence his son, but it was ultimately Hunter that finally got Jesse interested in sailing. That kid had shown up at his door more often than not, barefoot and wearing nothing but cut off shorts, begging for Jesse to come sailing. The hesitation he'd seen in his son's eyes evaporated when Hunter was at the door. If the kid from down the street could get Jesse interested in sailing and the wonders of the ocean, Max was all for it. It was Max's father that most influenced his love of the sea. Grandpa John was a sailor through and through. He taught his son every aspect of sailing, including a healthy respect of the sea. It was that respect of the ocean that ultimately led Max to join the coast guard.
    "Got an island at ten o'clock, capt'n," Ted said breaking Max from his thoughts. Max nodded and banked the jet toward the island. They raced over the island at three hundred knots, but what he saw was unmistakable. The "Stargazer" sat silently in the island's lagoon. Two tiny figures lay embraced on the beach. Max took a deep breath and banked the Guardian around for another pass. He slowed his airspeed to a hundred-ten knots, just short of stall speed. The coast guard jet flew over the island again. One of the figures was standing on the beach jumping up and down and waving his arms like mad.

Throckmorton Island Lagoon

    "Got'm capt'n," Ted said with ever-growing excitement in his voice. "Good goddamn, I can't believe it!" Max wagged the jet's wings from side to side letting those on the ground know that they had been seen. He even went so far as to barrel roll the jet. "Whew we! Now that's what I call a celebration!" Max turned the jet back toward Jacksonville and called in his report. As he finished, a little niggling in the back of his mind, niggled harder. On the first fly over, two boys were embraced on the beach. What did that mean? Was Hunter glad to see someone? Had Hunter taken up with someone else after his falling out with Jesse? How would his son react to this? Max actually started to panic at his son's reaction to the news but caught himself. What he saw wasn't necessarily indicative of anything. The circumstances could be explained in many different ways. Hunter had obviously been lost at sea for days and he would naturally be happy to be found. And where was Captain Turner in all this? He'd only seen two boys wrapped in each other's arms on the beach. The discovery of the "Stargazer" was a plume in his cap, but the questions his discovery conjured up left Max perplexed. He didn't know the answer, but he did know he had to tell his son what he had seen. Coast Guard ships were already on the way. Hopefully, Hunter and Captain Turner would be aboard a rescue ship within the hour.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

    Brice Throckmorton embraced the stranger in his arms and held him tight. The boy obviously needed the human contact and support. The sudden sound of a jet flying overhead didn't even register as Hunter held on to his savior.
    "Thank you," Hunter said with his voice full of emotion. "I've been lost at sea for days. You're the first person I've seen. And, and I don't even know your name," he sobbed. Brice held the boy tightly in his arms. He must have been through a harrowing experience for him to act his way.
    "I'm Brice," he said softly. "Welcome to my island." Jet afterburners blasted through the peacefully tranquility of the island paradise. Hunter looked up.
    "They've found me," he whispered. He jumped up and danced on the shoreline. "They found me!" he screamed as the jet flew overhead again, wagging its wings to let him know he'd been seen. Hunter was ecstatic and he danced a dance of elation on the shores of Brice's island.
    Brice didn't quite know what to think. He did know he was attracted to the young blond sailor, now cutting cartwheels down the beach of the lagoon. He also knew his father hated that he was gay. Brice looked out across the lagoon and gazed at the sailboat drifting lazily in the clear water. What the exiled boy saw was a way to freedom, an escape from his father's oppression. He glanced up and watched the jet do a flawless barrel roll. The clock had started ticking. Brice knew he had a very short time to convince the boy to take him away.
    "Hey, what's your name?" Brice called out.
    "I'm Hunter," the boy called out as he ran up grinning like a mad man.
    "Hunter, nice to meet you," Brice said extending his hand. Hunter grabbed the offered hand and shook it firmly.
    "Where am I?" Hunter asked.
    "This is my family's private island. We're about a hundred miles east northeast of Miami on the northern edge of the Bahamas," Brice explained.
    "Good God, I've traveled over, ah, well, I started at Jacksonville, but we got hit by a really bad blow."
    "We?" Brice asked as he gestured toward the lunch table. Hunter's smile vanished as he sat down at the lavishly appointed table ladened with food.
    "Captain Turner was killed when we got knocked down," Hunter explained softly as he gazed off into the palm trees. This news stunned Brice.
    "Uh, not to be insensitive, but where is the captain?" Brice asked quietly.
    "I had to bury him at sea," he explained as he looked down to his lap.
    "God, I'm so sorry," Brice said as he put his hand gently on Hunter's shoulder. "It must have been horrible." Hunter turned to look at the dark-haired boy. As his blue eyes slightly glazed with moisture, Hunter couldn't help but smile.
    "It was pure hell, but now, here I am safe and sound and I have you and your island to thank for saving my life." Brice grinned and gave Hunter a quick hug.
    "You must be hungry, and I haven't even touched my lobster." A voice suddenly called out.
    "Master Brice! Master Brice! Are you okay?" the butler called out as he emerged from the path to the house. Brice and Hunter stood from the table.
    "I'm fine, Chuck. This is my new friend Hunter. He'll be joining me for lunch. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, please bring another plate." The butler couldn't hold back his surprised expression as he looked the soaking wet guest up and down.
    "Master Brice, I don't think …"
    "That's right, Chuck. You're not paid to think. You're paid to keep me comfortable, well fed and happy. Right now, what will make me happy is another plate of food for my guest." Sensing the tension, Hunter tried to ease the situation. "I don't want to be any trouble."
    "Nonsense," Brice said. "Chuck here was just headed up to get you some lunch, weren't you, Chuck?" The butler stammered a bit then regained his professional demeanor.
    "Of course, Master Brice. Right away, sir."
    "Thanks, Chuck."
    "I am well paid to serve this family, sir, but I prefer to be called Charles, if you don't mind."
    "Sure thing, Charles," Brice said dismissively. Hunter watched as the man disappeared back up the path.
    "You were kinda hard on him, don't ya think?" Brice smiled a wicked smile.
    "He tells my father everything I do. He's never given me a break. Dear old dad gets detailed written reports on my every move. I know dad pays him well, but you'd think he could give me a break every once in a while." Hunter sat down in the opposite chair and looked at Brice. A hundred different thoughts were going through his head and "spoiled brat" was at the top of the list.
    Brice took in the look from his guest. He'd seen that look before.
    "I may have just come off as a stuck-up rich kid … "
    "More like a spoiled brat," Hunter interrupted. Brice grinned and shook his head in agreement.
    "Yeah, I guess I do act like that from time to time, but it's not the real me." Brice turned and looked at the sailboat. "I've dreamed of someone coming to this island to save me from all this shit." Hunter looked up at the huge house. Then he glanced down at the sterling silver, the bone china and the expensive bottle of wine.
    "Excuse me, but save you from all this?" Hunter questioned as he gestured to the surrounding opulence. Brice frowned. "Not everything is as it appears." Brice took a deep breath. It was time to convince this boy to take him away. "My father keeps me under his thumb. He watches my every move or has someone watch me," he explained as he nodded toward the house. "I'm told how to act, how to dress, how to speak, whom I can socialize with or more importantly, whom I can't socialize with." Brice's gaze turned from the sailboat to his guest. "I'm gay, Hunter. My father does not like that one bit. He sent me here so he can get rid of the boy I've been seeing at school. He will stop at nothing to see that his son is a carbon copy of himself."
    Hunter was astounded as he took in the story of his new friend's life. On the surface, Brice had everything anyone could ever want for. Underneath the shiny exterior was a miserable life. It was one of those life lessons that stays with you all your days … money truly does not buy happiness. Hunter could only nod slowly. Brice interpreted the silence as to mean his guest was uncomfortable. "I hope that my being gay does not make you uncomfortable."
    "Oh, no. That's not it at all. It's just that I always thought if I had a lot of money that I would be happy. I guess I've just realized that we all have things in our lives that cause us hardship and pain no matter what our net worth. And I've also realized that the two of us have more in common than our 'exterior' lives would lead people to believe." Hunter took a calming breath. "I'm gay too, by the way." He paused and looked directly into Brice's green eyes. "I've never admitted that to anyone, until now." The smile on Brice's face slowly grew into an all-out grin.
    "You're very handsome, Hunter. I think some boy is going to be very lucky to have you." Brice blushed at his own admission, but his shyness dissolved as a sad look came over Hunter's face. "I'm sorry, Hunter. Did I say something wrong?" Hunter shook his head.
    "No, no, it's not you," Hunter said as he leaned back in the chair. "My best friend, or should I say, my ex-best friend and I had a huge fight just before I set sail. I told him I loved him, and he told me he never wanted to see me again." Tears welled up in Hunter's eyes as he thought about Jesse. He glanced out at "The Stargazer" then looked back at Brice. "We used to sail every weekend during school and almost every day during the summer. He was the first person I ever had sex with. To him, it was just a one-time experimental thing and it never happened again, but I never got over it. I used to dream about holding him in my arms again, feeling his warm skin against mine and touching his wonderful hardness and making him feel good." Hunter looked wistful as his eyes turned back to the sailboat. "I made the mistake of falling in love with someone that could never return that love. When he told me he never wanted to see me again, he ripped a huge hole in my heart that will never heal."
    "And he made a huge mistake," Brice said softly. Hunter snapped his blue eyes around and locked them with the intense green eyes across the table. "From what little I know of you Hunter, you are a thoughtful, considerate, kind and caring person. It would take a fool to reject you." Brice threw caution to the wind and prodded on. "I'd never do that to you."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

    Jesse watched as his dad's jet landed. The good news of locating the lost sailboat and the sighting of a single survivor filled Jesse's heart with hope of a second chance. A Jayhawk helicopter had taken flight on the recovery mission as soon as the radio message came in on the sighting. In just a short while, Hunter would be picked up and brought to the Coast Guard Station. Jesse's heart was hammering in his chest. What would he say to Hunter? How could he ever apologize for his defensive response to Hunter's admission? And that's what it was, Jesse told himself. He knew he had feelings for Hunter, but he wasn't supposed to have 'those' kinds of feelings. He was supposed to fall in love with a girl, get married, have lots of kids and live a happy life. The feelings he had for Hunter interfered with those plans. Hunter's admission literally threw the wrench into the works and turned Jesse's world upside down. He'd reacted the only way he knew, defensively. Admitting to the feelings he had for his best friend was something he was not ready to do. He had to admit them to himself first and that hadn't happened. Then. But now, things had changed.
During the four days Hunter was lost at sea, Jesse's emotions had taken a severe beating. They ran from guilt and remorse to anger and rage and on to loss and desperation. The huge fight was the source of the guilt. The feelings, hidden deep within him, caused the anger and rage. The possibility that Hunter would never return caused the loss and a desperate need set things straight. The thought of Hunter dying while thinking he was hated by his best friend brought on tears of remorse at least three or four times a day.
    Jesse had seen all the signs, but he chose to ignore them. He'd stolen glances at his best friend when he wasn't looking. The way the cutoffs clung to Hunter's skin barely hid the very healthy physique beneath. The way goose bumps would come up on Hunter's chest and the resulting perking of his nipples caused a shudder to pass through Jesse's body. The warm touch of Hunter's leg against his as they sat down to dinner in the cabin of "The Pearl" was enough to increase blood flow in areas of Jesse's body that caused him to blush. Jesse found himself hard pressed to find anyone that even remotely matched Hunter's handsome face.
    It was natural for two young teenage boys to put their arms around each other and Jesse found himself remembering those times with a bit more than fond affection. Then there was the one time he had given in to all those feelings.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

    "Jesse! Come on!" Hunter yelled from the cockpit of "The Pearl." Hunter's best friend lumbered down the dock carrying an ice chest.
    "Aye aye, Captain Bligh!" Jesse yelled back as he handed the ice chest over to Hunter.
    "Damn this is heavy. What do you have in here, the kitchen sink?"
    "Nope, just dinner and a bit of a surprise."
    "Surprise, huh? Lemme see," Hunter said as he tried to open the cooler. Jesse climbed on board and grabbed the cooler.
    "Nope, not til supper time."
    "Ah, you're no fun," Hunter faked a pout.
    "Aye, captain. I can be a whole lot more fun than you can imagine." Jesse realized what he had said as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He immediately turned to the cabin to stow the cooler, all the while blushing furiously.
    "Aye, matey, you'd be surprised at what I can imagine," Hunter mumbled under his breath.
    "The Pearl" set sail that Friday afternoon and headed for Little River Inlet with two seasoned fifteen-year-old sailors on board. Their destination was the small beach adjacent to the jetties at the inlet. It was the perfect place to anchor. There was a lot of boat traffic in the inlet, but the soft sands of the pristine beach more than made up for it.
    A steady fifteen knot offshore wind pushed "The Pearl" down the Inland Coastal Waterway at a rock solid seven knots. Hunter glanced at his watch.
    "Jesse, we've only got fifteen minutes to make the bridge, tighten the main." Hunter watched the lean muscles in Jesse's back flex as he cranked in the main sail. Pure hormonal lust thumped through Hunter's veins. Blood flow increased as well to the lower regions of Hunter's body. The boat slowly heeled more to port.
    "Hunter! Tighten the jib!" Jesse called out. Surprised by his lack of attention to the sailboat, Hunter quickly tightened the jib and balanced the sails. Jesse settled back in the cockpit and put his arms behind his head.
    "Where's yer head at capt'n?"
    "Not where it wants to be," Hunter said before he had a chance to think about it.
    "Huh?" asked Jesse. Hunter glanced down at his friend's ripped stomach and the happy trail that emerged from the cut off shorts.
    "Ah, nothing. Just trying to make the bridge."
    "Oh, okay." The boys tried to time their trip to reach the rickety old draw bridge at the top of the hour. That was the only time the bridge opened for boat traffic and today, they arrived right on time.
    "So, what's the surprise?" Hunter asked. Jesse smiled wickedly.
    "Once we're past the bridge, I'll bring it up."
    "Oh, come on, Jesse. Gimme a break. What are you hiding from me?"
    "My great big ol gigantic hard-on, capt'n," Jesse said with a smirk on his face. Hunter just about fell off the boat. The boys dropped anchor at seven o'clock, just in time to take in the sunset. Jesse disappeared into the cabin only to emerge a moment later.
    "Surprise!" Jesse called out as he held up to ice cold beers.
    "You got beer!" Hunter exclaimed with a broad grin.
    It was one of those teenage nights that eighty-year-old men look back on with both fondness and a sense of sadness. The fondness for the memories and the sadness for what might have been.
    The steaks came off the grill a flawless medium rare. The corn on the cob came off the grill still in the shuck, dripping with the butter Jesse had slathered on just before putting them over the coals. The meal was perfect, and the beer took off the nervous edge that seemed to haunt the two boys over the preceding couple of months.
    They ended up on the beach sitting by a campfire and sipping the last of their beer. Hunter felt emboldened and was pretty sure it was the alcohol. He glanced over at his best friend and found himself filled with an almost uncontrollable urge to kiss Jesse's thick, red, moist lips that glistened in the glow of the campfire. Approaching voices stirred him from his thoughts.
    "Cool, it's a campfire," the boys heard coming from the surrounding shadows. Two young men emerged from the darkness. They were arm in arm and were both grinning.
    "I told you all the gay boys hang out on this end of the island," one of the young men said. Jesse jumped to his feet.
    "We're not gay," he said defiantly. The two young men took in the site before them and nodded to each other.
    "Honey, please. You two were made for each other. It's as clear as the big ol' bulge in your pants what you're thinking, thank you very much." Hunter ripped his eyes from the two visitors and zeroed in on Jesse's crotch. Sure enough, the outline of an erection was clearly evident. He gapped at the sight and despite the dim glow if the fire, he saw the deep red blush on Jesse's face.
    "You boys do have condoms, don't you?"
    "Ah, uh, what?!?" Jesse stammered.
    "Condoms. Protection. AIDS. Gotta cover it up before you do the fuck and all that."
    "We're not gay!" Jesse affirmed as he stood defiantly.
    "Sure, baby. Sure. And Randy here has never sucked my cock." Jesse gapped at the two visitors. "Might wanna close that mouth darlin', unless you wanna wrap those luscious lips around yer boyfriend over there. I'm Adam, by the way and you two look just delicious," Adam said and then turned to Randy. "Honey, we've got that great big king size bed. Don't you think it just be deliriously sexy if these two boys joined us?" Hunter saw his opportunity and took it.
    "Come on, Jesse. Let's get back to the boat and let these two, ah, enjoy the fire."
    "We're not gay," Jesse said again as he walked toward the water.
    "I hope you've got some lube 'cause your boyfriend looks like he wants to fuck." Jesse's mouth looked like a fish as it opened and closed. "Here' ya go." Adam handed something to Hunter and smiled. "Your boyfriend seems to be in denial, but don't you worry sweetie, things have a way of working themselves out," he said with a wink.
    "We're not gay," Jesse said again as he put his hands on his hips.
    "You two enjoy yourselves," Adam said with a wink. Jesse and Hunter dove into the dark waters of Little River Inlet and swam back to "The Pearl." A quick freshwater shower on the swim platform preceded a quick change of clothes.
    "What'd he give you?" Jesse asked as he pulled on a clean pair of boxers. Hunter pulled out a condom and a plastic tube of lube.
    As the full moon made its way across the star filled night and the waves of ocean inlet gently lapped at the hull of "The Pearl," the two boys reached for each other and gave in to irresistible hormonal urges. Warm lips met warm lips and all of Jesse's worries went out the window. Hunter helped roll the condom on Jesse's erection. With his feet against the cabin top, Hunter groaned as Jesse eased himself into the hot flesh of his best friend.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

    Jesse blushed as he remembered that night. It was magical. He did not want to be gay, but the feelings he experienced that night left him confused. What they had done could not happen again. It was just too much to comprehend. Being gay was not a choice Jesse was ready to make, despite the huge crush on his best friend. Despite all his efforts, the memories of that night were at the forefront of every self-pleasuring moment.
    Jesse tried time and time again to think of the girls he found attractive, but eventually, when the up and down motions of his hand reached a fever pitch, his thoughts turned to that night on "The Pearl." Hot spurts of teenage spunk sprayed across Jesse's stomach as he thought of himself tightly sheathed inside his best friend.
    Hunter's frustration grew from the fact that Jesse never once mentioned what had happened. It was never brought up. It was as if it had never happened. Hunter's memories told him otherwise. Jesse had made love to him that night. It was a memory that was forever etched into his young mind - a memory he wanted to relive again and again.
    Jesse's conflicted thoughts were broken by the sound of an approaching aircraft. The HU-25A Guardian Jet slowly taxied to a stop on the tarmac. The jet's engines wound down and finally the aircraft's navigation lights were turned out. Jesse found himself holding his breath as the door was finally opened and he saw his father step out.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

    "What do you mean by that?"
    "You're a handsome young man, Hunter. I'd be lying if I said I didn't find you attractive." Hunter looked at the dark-haired youth across the lunch table. The boy called Brice was certainly gorgeous and Hunter found himself attracted to not only the boy's beauty, but his declaration of intention. The possibility presented itself and Hunter was intrigued by the possibilities. He took another bite of lobster and followed that with a wonderful mouthful of delicious wine.
    "Brice, would you like to visit my sailboat."
    "I'd love to." A short time later, Brice found his feet on the cabin top as his new friend, with each earth-shattering thrust, slowly erased the innocent memories of his times with Tyler. He replaced them with the very real emotions and feelings of being made love to by the blond-haired god that had sailed into his private lagoon. Brice smirked as Hunter drilled into his ass.
    "If only daddy could see me now," he mumbled as the blond god's cock brushed against his prostrate.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *


On to Chapter Five
"Decisions"

Back to Chapter Three
"Throckmorton Island"

Chapter Index


Hunter at Sea is © 2008-2022 by The Tarheel Writer.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form – physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise – without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.


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