Note: I’ve mostly finished this story so you’ll see the rest up here soon. Enjoy!

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Quick links:

• Chapter 1 – Scroll down!
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3 – Coming soon!

***

Chapter 1

Luc Fournier hated coming to campus. He was like a fish out of water this far from the seashore, even though university was less than an hour inland. It may as well have been a thousand miles for all he cared; it was too far to smell the salt on the breeze. Not even the lonesome cry of gulls punctuated the silence as he trudged across the parking lot, making his way towards the art school. It was early November and the sky felt gloomy and listless, pressing down on him. If he was on the coast, he could always look out at the horizon for comfort, watching the swell of waves and listening to their soothing crash upon the rocky shore. Here there was no horizon, no waves and most definitely no rocky shore.

He wondered for the thousandth time why he had ever agreed to take this stupid job. Money, of course. Five years ago he’d been fresh out of college and desperate for work because his woodworking business had yet to take off. One of his former professors had approached him and offered him this part-time position and he’d jumped at the chance. Every semester since then, though, he’d regretted his decision. No amount of money seemed worth it to him now…

What could he do? He’d signed the contract and was therefore committed. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and continued onward, counting the days until he was free.

---

Oh, great, he thought when Jack Watanabe swaggered into his wood carving class later that morning, Why do I always get the jocks?

It was a hazard of teaching an eight-week elective class that started late in the semester. The dumb jocks at the college would inevitably pick it up, thinking it would be short and therefore easy. They inevitably learned the hard truth that wood carving was difficult work and it required a lot more than brawn. It also required dexterity and a lot of creativity. Most of the jocks dropped the course within a couple of days and, Luc judged, Jack wouldn’t be any different. Luc was known for being a demanding instructor.

Frowning, Luc turned toward the jock, ordering, “Please introduce yourself.” He was slightly annoyed that Jack was a couple minutes late and very annoyed that the big meathead’s presence sucked up all of the oxygen in the room. Upon seeing him, several young women whispered excitedly amongst each other and even some of the guys seemed starstruck by Jack’s entrance. If there was one thing Luc disliked more than dumb jocks, it was dumb jocks with attitude.

“Uh, I’m Jack,” the big brute stammered, seeming self-conscious despite his cooler-than-you attitude. “Jack Watanabe. Er, sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find this place!”

“Uh huh.” Luc gestured toward the rows of workbenches. “Please take a seat, Mr. Watanabe. And try to be on time in the future.” Jack hunched his giant shoulders sheepishly, looking down at the floor.

Luc had never seen him before but he could tell Jack was a basketball player from his jersey and probably a popular one, judging by the reactions he elicited from his peers. It was common for the athletes to wear their jerseys on the day of a game, a way for them to show off as well as build school pride. If Jack was a basketball jock, though, he was a particularly beefy one. Standing nearly as tall as Luc himself, he outweighed him by at least fifty pounds and all of it appeared to be muscle. He was big and broad and badass, his vanity all but oozing out of his pores.

The workshop fell silent as he made his way across the room. In addition to his red and black jersey, he was wearing a pair of baggy black nylon shorts and white trainers, which were presently unlaced. When he fixed his gaze upon him, Luc realized he possessed startlingly pale gold eyes, a stubbly chin and a mouth that was twisted into a perpetual smirk. Yeah, Jack knew he was hot shit and acted the part. The other students shifted on their stools, craning their necks to get a better look at him as he nonchalantly chose a seat right in the front and, leaning back against the bench, spread his beefy, hairy legs wide open. When Luc looked over at him, Jack jerked his chin in a total ‘jock-bro’ greeting before looking away.

Way too cool for this class, Luc thought, shaking his head. I give him one day and he’ll be gone.

“Alright, everyone,” he called out, drawing their attention back to him. He’d been in the middle of giving an introduction before Jack barged in. “I know this is wood carving class and you think you’ll be using tools but we will start out with a pencil and paper. You’ll find both items on the bench over there,” he nodded toward the side of the workshop. “The assignment for today is to draw something. It can be anything you like but remember that you will be using this drawing as a model for your first carving. Given that, I recommend choosing something relatively simple.” When a few of the (mostly male) students grumbled at this (including Jack), Luc felt compelled to add, “This is an art class, right? Wood carving is first and foremost about art. If you can’t draw it, you won’t be able to carve it.” He clapped his hands together, “You will have the rest of the hour to work on your drawing.”

He turned his back on the students and busied himself with organizing the tools they would use for tomorrow’s class. He smiled to himself as he did so, listening to the less than enthusiastic sounds of his pupils. The students might think this class was going to be a piece of cake but his warning hadn’t been idle: He knew from experience that, if they couldn’t render an adequate drawing for their first piece, there was no way they would be able to carve it out of a block of wood. He estimated that at least a quarter of them would drop the class today and about half would do so by the end of the week. And that was fine with him! His personal woodworking business was going strong and he no longer had time to waste teaching petulant children. This was to be the last time he taught wood carving at the university and he was looking forward to it being over.

The class period went by without much trouble. The majority of the students chose props from the workshop to sketch. He had a whole table of odds and ends–mostly maritime artifacts from his personal collection–for them to select from. He wanted to give them ideas for their own creations as well as show them what was possible.

Some of the students pulled out their phones and sketched photos they pulled up from the Internet. A couple chose things from their backpacks or pockets, obviously taking heed of his advice to draw something not too complicated. For his part, Jack spent the period hunched over his workbench, carefully drawing while looking over at his phone. When Luc circulated around the class, the jock quickly covered the drawing with his body, hiding it from view. Luc rolled his eyes. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was probably drawing a naked woman with big tits and a voluptuous ass. Typical jock!

Finally, class was over and he dismissed the students, telling them their homework was to finish their drawings. People stood and started to gather up their belongings and Luc slung his backpack over his shoulder, ready to head back to his workshop.

“Uh, teacher,” a deep voice called out. “I got a question.”

Luc turned back to see Jack standing before him with a big hand raised over his head. Luc tried to conceal his annoyance, “Yes?” Jack looked around before motioning him over. Luc sighed and approached, asking again, “Yes? What is your question?”

Jack swallowed hard as he neared, his huge Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “Jesus, bro,” he breathed as he looked up at Luc. “Yer even taller than me!”

Luc nodded, “Yes. And your question?”

Jack swallowed again, rocking back on his heels, and Luc was struck by the sudden realization that Jack was intimidated by him. This in itself was notable because there was probably almost no other man alive who could make this arrogant bruiser behave deferentially. This was for a good reason: Jack was built like a ton of bricks and was quite intimidating in his own right. His shoulders were broad and his arms were incredibly muscular. His neck was thick, too, ending at his tiny ears.

For some reason, it was those ears that drew Luc’s attention more than Jack’s size or muscles. They stuck out noticeably from the sides of his head probably because the black hair on the sides of his head was razored down to almost nothing, naturally focusing attention on those little nubs. They were so small they could have belonged to a child; they were almost vestigial. Adorable, he thought before shaking his head at himself. Why had he thought that?

Maybe it was because Jack’s ears reminded him of his little nephew, Jordan. Jordan had the cutest little ears imaginable and a mop of black hair similar to Jack’s. Given Luc’s height advantage, he had a view of the top of Jack’s head and realized his black hair was indeed textured similar to Jordan’s. Unlike Jordan’s boyish mop, though, the thick mop on top of Jack’s head was spiky, no doubt with hair gel.

The silence stretched between them as Jack fish-mouthed, trying to work up the courage to ask his question. Luc couldn’t figure out why he was so tongue-tied and prompted again, “Well, Mr. Watanabe? What do you want from me?”

“I was, er, juss, ya know, wonderin’ if ya maybe would…” His voice trailed off as he lowered his amber-gold eyes to the floor, completely stymied.

What is wrong with this guy? Luc wondered. I’m not that intimidating, am I? Certainly, the other students didn’t get this worked up in his presence. Luc might be tall but he was known among his friends for his warmth and easy going nature.

“Is something wrong?” he inquired when it was clear that Jack didn’t have the nerve to finish his question. “How can I help you?”

Jack steeled himself, balling his hands into fists and taking a deep breath. Finally, he said, “I was juss wonderin’ if ya–”

He never finished because at that moment the workshop exploded with laughter. Some of the girls shrieked, covering their faces, and most of the guys howled, more than a few pointing their phones in their direction. At the same time, Luc had the strangest feeling wash over him. He shivered, his nostrils filling with–of all things!–the scent of bladderwrack. He reached out to steady himself on a nearby bench, mind swimming.

Still shivering, he was turning his head to ask them what was so funny when Jack’s eyes widened and his cheeks burned scarlet. He immediately dropped his hands over his crotch but not before Luc looked down and goggled when he realized the jock was completely naked below the waist. (Hadn’t he been wearing shorts a moment ago?) He caught a glimpse of the long, fat sausage dangling over the jock’s hefty pair of bull balls before Jack’s hands obscured his view.

Now it was time for his own cheeks to color as Jack looked around frantically, demanding, “What the fuck?! WHAT THE FUCK???!!! WHO STOLE MY FUCKIN’ SHORTS????!!!!”

It was almost comical watching him crouch down, clamping his hands with difficulty over his privates. (Good thing he had big hands!) He crab-walked around the workshop, casting about for any sign of his missing shorts but they were nowhere to be found. In the end, one of the male students took pity on him and loaned him a pair of sweatpants from his duffel bag. Jack turned his back to everyone as he hopped into them. Luc watched, bemused, at the jock’s hefty, hairy buttocks bouncing up and down as Jack pulled the sweatpants over his significant booty. The pants were several sizes too small and the resulting protrusions in front and in back almost looked worse than if Jack had been wearing nothing at all. Jack looked down at himself, thoroughly humiliated, and clapped one hand over his crotch and the other over his butt. Not that it did much good, mind you.

Luc watched him dart out of the room, shaking his head. Over the years, he’d see a lot of things in his workshop but this was by far the weirdest. Yeah, he thought as he watched Jack’s broad back and even broader ass disappear from view, I’ll definitely never see him again. There’s no way he’ll show his face around here after this!

---

He was right; Jack dropped the class that night.

Luc couldn’t say he was disappointed and he certainly didn’t blame him. There’s no way he would’ve shown his face in class again if the same thing had happened to him! He shook his head and went back to reviewing the class roster. More than just Jack had dropped out; there were five fewer students when he took attendance the following day. At this rate, he would be left with just a handful of people. So much the better! He always preferred small classes anyway. Another ten could drop for all he cared. This was his last semester anyway.

He would have forgotten about Jack entirely if his younger brother, Laurent, hadn’t asked him to go to a basketball game later that month. The Huskies were playing their archrival, the Marshall State Polecats, but, it turned out, that wasn’t why Laurent wanted to go to the game.

“Have you seen the team’s point guard, Jack Watanabe?” Laurent asked breathlessly. “He’s so dreamy!”

Luc repeated the name, taking a moment to place it in his memory. When he did, he smiled, saying, “I have, actually. Sorry, bro. Not my type. Although I have seen him naked and, based on that experience, I can see why you’d be into him.”

“YOU WHAT???!!!” Laurent exclaimed, taking him by the shoulders and shaking him. “When? Where? How? And, most importantly, is he hung?”

Luc laughed, extricating himself from Laurent’s grasp. “He was in my wood carving class for, like, a day. It was super weird because at the end of the class he dropped trou in front of everyone.” He spread his palms, “Don’t ask me how it happened, though. All I know is one minute he was standing there in his shorts and the next he was butt-naked. And, yeah, he’s, uh, quite big. Definitely got nothing to be ashamed of down there.” He paused, grinning slyly at Laurent, “Perfect for a size queen like you, bro.”

Laurent was staring at him with his mouth agape, so taken aback that he didn’t even react to Luc’s jab. “…butt-naked…quite big…,” he repeated, somewhat breathlessly. “Jesus, bro! You got all the luck. And yer not even gay! Well, mostly not anyways. Fuck! Why did it have to be you and not me?”

“The other students probably snapped pics,” Luc offered. “I’m sure if you search online you can find some.”

Laurent stared at him with narrowed eyes, “I can’t believe you saw Jack Watanabe naked! I hate you. I fuckin’ hate you!”

“Hey, don’t blame me!” Luc said, holding up his hands. “Maybe if you ask nicely, he’ll invite you into the locker room after the game and you can see him in all his glory for yourself.”

Laurant scowled, “Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen!”

Luc shrugged, “Anything’s possible. Now, what time’s the game?”

“Does that mean you’ll go?” Laurent asked, clapping his hands together. “I’m so happy! It starts at seven tonight. Maybe we could grab dinner beforehand? I haven’t spent enough time with my big brother lately!”

---

They had pretty decent seats even though the arena was almost full. It turned out that Jack Watanabe was a bit of a phenom on campus. The rest of the players were also great but apparently Jack was known for his personality on the court as well as his unparalleled athletic abilities. When Jack was on the court, the team’s scoring went through the roof which meant he basically played the whole game without a break.

Not that any of this made any difference to Luc. With the exception of hockey which he still played with his besties from high school every weekend, he was firmly in the “Sport’s ball” camp. His eyes glazed over whenever the topic turned to, well, basically anything having to do with ball sports. He’d always thought the same was true of Laurent but was surprised when his little brother held forth on the intricacies of the game. Who would’ve guessed? Laurent wouldn’t have been out of place in a sports bar as long as they overlooked his purple hair and painted fingernails.

The game started and Jack jogged out onto the court with his teammates. Ah, there was that smirk and that swagger! He strutted around like a total rooster, lapping up the fans’ appreciation. Luc could see what Laurent said was true: Jack Watanabe really did own the place. Despite himself, the more he watched, the more captivated he became. He didn’t follow any of the plays, just enjoyed watching Jack’s outrageous performance.

The jock came alive out there, turning the game into equal parts spectacle and competition. He teased the referees and the players on the opposing team, earning laughs and applause from the fans, riling them into an uproar. This was clearly part of his strategy and Luc had to hand it to him: Jack really knew how to work a crowd in his team’s favor. It was a new experience because Luc had only ever played friendly games of hockey among friends, never in front of an audience. The stands in the arena where he and his brothers played were always mostly empty and, because of this, Luc had never understood the power of the fans to fuel a team’s performance.

Sitting in the stands that night, he finally got it. Without the fans, the game would’ve been a completely different experience. By elevating the crowd, Jack was elevating the game. And not just any game, his team’s game. The Huskies exploded with energy as the fans’ enthusiasm mounted. It was almost an orgiastic experience and it left Luc bemused and winded. He had to put his fingers in his ears at one point, the cheering was so loud.

And right in the middle of all of it was Jack. He became something otherworldly, an athlete without parallel, a performer in his element. He totally defied gravity, launching himself into the air, gyrating and tumbling with the ease of someone half his size. And he did so with amazing accuracy, always timing his plays perfectly. As a point guard, he didn’t take many shots of his own but he was an expert at setting up his teammates to score. And score they did! On the surface, Jack’s antics might seem to be shallow plays for the fans’ adoration, in truth he used them to his team’s advantage. There was so much going on just beneath the surface! The whole show, Luc realized, was very carefully orchestrated and Jack was the maestro. Just watching him, he could tell Jack was destined to go pro.

Even though they had good seats, Luc mostly watched the huge screens placed around the arena because the game was televised and there were no fewer than six cameras focused on the action at any one time. The cameras were just like the fans, they loved Jack, panning in so close you could see the droplets of sweat clinging to his stubbly cheeks, the fierce determination in his eyes and every wink and sly smirk. He looked larger than life up on those screens, a hero of the court. Luc was unwillingly seduced. By the end of the first quarter, he understood why Laurent and pretty much everyone else in the arena was in love with Jack Watanabe.

With Jack’s help, the Huskies immediately pulled ahead of the Polecats and their lead widened through the first half of the game. They looked poised to trounce their rivals at the beginning of the second half. Jack came rocketing out onto the court to thunderous applause. He raised his beefy arms, egging the fans on, inciting their approval. It worked! Everyone was more than happy to reward him with noise. He lapped it up, skipping around like a schoolgirl before taking up position in the center of the court.

The Polecats weren’t about to take it lying down and surrounded Jack with their biggest, more imposing players. He easily dodged around them, making them look like gangly children as he effortlessly stole the ball away from their center and passed it to an open teammate who scored a field goal with a swoosh of the net. Just like that, the Huskies extended their lead.

The action was a blur as both teams threw themselves into joyful yet serious combat, vying for the win. Jack’s handsome face split into a hungry leer as he started dripping sweat. He was a powerful athlete, though, and his body was primed for action. It would take more than a few minutes of strenuous game play to get the better of him. He stole the ball yet again and passed it for another basket, throwing his hands up and prancing around like a pony afterwards. Luc looked over and saw Laurent had his phone out, videoing everything. His eyes were round and his face was flushed. Clearly, he was even more enamored with Jack Watanabe than ever.

Luc was shaking his head at his brother when a wave of something washed over him and the curious scent of bladderwrack filled his nostrils. He clutched his seat, fighting back nausea. He was just starting to think, Well, that was weird! when he happened to look up at the screens overhead.

Apparently, Jack had gotten into an altercation with another player. He’d slapped the ball out of the guy’s hands and was grabbing for it when the other player shoved him. Jack windmilled his arms but wasn’t fast enough to keep from splaying out on his butt. He rolled over into a squat and was preparing to launch himself back onto his feet when there was an audible rip and his shorts gave way.

Just like that, Luc and everyone else in the arena were treated to the unforgettable: Jack’s nylon shorts falling away from him in shreds. Luc’s eyes went wide as the cameraman, obviously not expecting the footage to turn x-rated, captured the whole thing in high-definition. Nobody in the arena could possibly miss the fact that Jack was going commando underneath his shorts. The camera zoomed in and Luc watched as Jack’s hefty tubesteak and pendulous balls flopped out, swinging in the breeze. Even worse, the camera angle was such that the view was from down low. Jack’s face contorted in disbelief as he manspread for the whole world to see. Luc blinked, getting his very first sight of a guy’s asshole. It winked back at him from the crevice of Jack’s chunky buttocks, moist and hairless and delicately wrinkled.

Jack’s expression turned from cocky to aggravated to horrified as he registered what was happening. The camera abruptly cut away as he staggered to his feet and clapped his hands over himself, the tatters of his shorts trailing along behind him. But the damage had already been done. The arena let out a collective gasp as he turned tail and ran hurriedly off the court, his broad buttocks bouncing up and down behind him. Luc stared but Laurent focused his phone on him, intent on capturing the whole ordeal for posterity.

Just before he exited the court, Jack did something funny. He turned and looked over his shoulder, his expression haunted. It was probably Luc’s imagination but he could’ve sworn the dude was looking right at him. But that was impossible, right? How could he have known that Luc would be there tonight, much less where he was seated?

Luc and Laurent exchanged a look of bewilderment as the crowd around them processed what had just happened. Luc didn’t know why but he found himself wondering at one thing. The last time he’d seen Jack naked, he’d been very hairy but tonight he was shaved completely smooth, his golden brown skin flawlessly exposing every ridge, bump, curve and protuberance. He’d gotten the full view of Jack Watanabe, alright!

“I’m so gonna watch this before bed tonight!” Laurent gasped, breathlessly replaying the footage on his phone. “Jesus, bro! I need to take you along with me to every Husky game.” He looked over at Luc, flushed with happiness and lust, “Apparently, you have a secret super power. You’re able to make Jack’s clothes disappear!”

“Haha! I know, right?” Luc mopped his strangely sweat brow. “I was just thinking the same thing. What a coincidence!”

“Uh huh.” Laurent couldn’t take his eyes off of his phone. “He’s amazing! Do you think he’s a bottom?”

“A what?” It took Luc a moment to translate the term. He might be bi but he tilted mostly toward hetero and wasn’t up on all of the gay lingo. Fortunately, he had two gay brothers to school him and it didn’t take him long to figure out what Laurent meant. “Honestly, I don’t think he’s even gay, much less a bottom.”

“A girl can dream,” Laurent sighed, batting his eyelashes at the paused image of Jack’s butthole on his phone. “A girl can dream…”

---

Luc didn’t know what to think after the game. The Huskies ended up losing after Jack fled to the locker room and the fans were uncharacteristically subdued as they filtered out. For his part, Laurent was giddy. “Did you see that?” he asked Luc for the hundredth time. “Fuck! I’m so glad I had my phone out.” He stuck his phone in Luc’s face for the hundredth time. “Can you believe that hole! It’s so tight and so smooth! It’s totally awesome!”

“Awesome for whom?” Luc quipped, pushing the phone away. “Not for me or for Jack. I could’ve lived the rest of my life without ever seeing that. And think about poor Jack. There’s no way he’ll ever live this down!”

“Oh, he’ll get over it! There’s no such thing as bad publicity these days,” Laurent pointed out. “I can’t believe that went out on national television. Do you think they blurred it out?”

“I’m sure they did. There’s a time delay on those broadcasts for this exact reason.” Luc sighed, “Still, it was bad enough for poor Jack that his bare butt was on four giant screens simultaneously.”

“You don’t think he’ll drop off the team?” Laurent wondered, suddenly panic-stricken. “OMG! I hope not! Jesus, he’s the best–and hottest–player!”

Luc shook his head, “Nah, he won’t. He’s too much of an attention whore. In fact, knowing how narcissistic he is, I wouldn’t be too sure he didn’t plan it.”

“I don’t know, bro. He looked pretty shocked.” Laurent was silent for a moment before looking over at him. “Did you see how he looked in our direction right after it happened? I wonder why?”

Luc shrugged, “Yeah, I did and have no idea. Maybe it just seemed like he was looking at us? Maybe his parents or girlfriend were sitting in the stands near where we were?”

“Huh. Maybe?”

They exited the arena and headed toward Luc’s truck. As they prepared to climb inside Luc said, “Alright, so I went to a basketball game with you. Now it’s your turn to repay me. Will you come to Aimée’s art opening next week?”

Laurent pulled a face, complaining, “Aw, bro! Really, bro? You know how much I hate art!”

“Laurent,” Luc warned. “It’s Aimée! She’s our sister and a talented artist in her own right. We owe it to her.”

---

Chapter 2

A week went by and he, Laurent and their two other brothers, Jacques and Thierry, met up at the art gallery in Deer Cove for their sister’s art opening. Aimée was there, too, of course but she was surrounded by a gaggle of adoring fans. Tapping his foot to the smooth tones of a jazz quartet and watching the well-heeled patrons flock around her paintings, Luc observed her from afar, smiling to himself. She was positively glowing!

All of the attention was definitely warranted; her artwork was ethereal and beautiful. She mostly worked in oils, taking inspiration from the ocean and painting abstract scenes from the craggy coast. Luc felt lucky to have grown up in the area because the seashore provided him with a good share of his inspiration as well. Both he and Aimée had done well for themselves and were now making a comfortable living from their work.

He and Aimée were the unusual artsy ones in the Fournier clan, though. Their younger siblings, Laurent, Jacques and Thierry had little interest in art and instead preferred more physical pursuits. Jacques and Thierry worked in construction and Laurent was studying to become a landscape architect. Still, their siblings were proud of them and made the effort to show their support even if it wasn’t their thing.

Presently, Thierry and Jacques were staring at a canvas with folded arms and puzzled expressions. The painting was of the Fulsome Pier lighthouse but it was rendered in such an abstract manner that the fact wasn’t readily apparent. The lighthouse’s beacon was the only thing that was recognizable, the rest of it looked like–

“It’s a giant robot cyclops shooting lasers out of its eye,” Thierry supplied, obviously proud of his deduction. “Or maybe it’s a big penis spewing–”

“Hey! Knock it off!” Luc hissed, looking around nervously. “You’re such a Philistine!”

“Philistine, huh?” Jacques smirked, nudging Thierry in the ribs. “Listen to him, bro. That’s a university degree’ll get ya. Two hundred grand in debt and a fancy vocabulary!”

Theirry chuckled, leaning against his brother. Jacques and Thierry were fraternal twins but they almost looked like they could be identical. Right now, they were dressed like a pair of lumberjacks in matching flannel shirts.

“I don’t know what it is,” Laurent said, approaching them by way of the open bar and gazing at the painting, “but it’s making me horny.” He took a sip of his wine and made a face, complaining, “Don’t they have anything harder? This tastes like it came out of a juice box!” His purple hair was gone, Luc noticed, and was now dyed bright pink.

Luc glared at his younger brother. “Would you all just try to act like grownups for once?” He was so over their rude behavior! He’d endured more than his share of it over the years. Usually it was directed at his wood carvings but, even though his art wasn’t the target this time, he felt defensive on Aimée’s behalf. “Aimée’s an excellent artist.”

“I dunno, bro,” Jacques said, scratching his groin. “I kinda prefer yer stuff. At least ya carve hot chicks with big jugs.”

“I carve much more than that,” Luc corrected. “And the only nudes I carve are figureheads for boats.”

“You’d probably make more money if you just stuck to carving naked chicks,” Thierry observed. “Although me an’ Laurent would like it if ya carved some hot guys. Maybe some sailors without any pants?”

“True dat,” Laurent said, bumping knuckles with Thierry. As the two gay siblings, they shared a special bond that almost rivaled the one that Thierry shared with his twin brother.

Luc gritted his teeth, worried that the patrons could overhear them. He wished he hadn’t convinced them all to come tonight. He looked around and, deciding a glass of wine couldn’t hurt, snagged one off the serving tray of a nearby waiter. A series of particularly beautiful paintings of seaweed caught his attention and he wandered over to admire them. Aimée’s style was so unique! He really appreciated the way she captured the mysterious essence of the coast. The seaweed looked alive, almost like it was undulating under the caress of the cold currents, the light streaming down from the surface above. Truly beautiful…

The salty odor of the ocean filled his nostrils and he looked over and saw the door onto the deck was open. It was late autumn and the air had the bite of winter in it but was still mild enough to be enjoyable. He decided to take leave of his troglodyte brothers and sauntered out onto the deck. He leaned against the railing, sipping his wine and letting the sea wind ruffle through his thick, brown hair.

The gallery was a former fish cannery that overlooked the harbor. Down below, the rising tide lapped against the boats as the waxing moon crested the horizon, peering out over a rocky crag prickling with stunted conifers. He smiled as he looked out on the seascape, feeling like it lived in his blood. In a way it did; Luc was the descendant of a long line of fishermen. It had only been within the last generation that his relatives had abandoned their historic livelihood due to the collapse of fishing stocks in the north Atlantic. Even so, the sea still stirred within him, pulling him toward it like a siren’s song. It was the reason he felt twitchy whenever he was very far away from the coast.

The truth was that his family had a reciprocal relationship with the ocean. Everything they had taken from the sea came with a cost and, even though they’d hauled more than their share of fish out of it, plenty of them had been taken by the same waters that sustained them. Looking back over the annals of the Fournier family, Luc had been struck by how many had succumbed to the sea. Somehow, though, it seemed like a fair trade, he thought, as he gazed out over the harbor at the sea mist rolling in over the moonlit waves.

“The sea spits the Fourniers out only to devour us again later,” he murmured, smiling. “The way it’s always been.”

“What was that?” a deep voice rumbled behind him.

He turned and found himself face to face with Jack Watanabe of all people. The beefy jock was clutching a long, black robe around his broad shoulders. Underneath, his feet were bare on the deck planks.

Luc looked at him, not sure how to respond. When he remained silent, Jack prompted, “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Luc replied, recovering from his surprise. Jack was the last person he expected to meet at the gallery tonight. “Why are you here wearing that?”

Jack looked down at himself, his stubbly cheeks coloring, “Oh, I’m the model tonight. I’m juss out on break.”

“The model?”

Jack’s cheeks colored an even deeper shade of red, “Yeah, for the art class downstairs. Friday night figure drawings, ya know.” He looked around, explaining unnecessarily, “I’m the male model, right? I juss got done posing for my first set and needed some air and saw you out here.”

“I see.”

Jack looked down at his bare feet before lifting his head and fixing Luc with his otherworldly golden brown eyes. His mouth opened and Luc watched his giant Adam’s apple bob up and down. It was so big it was mesmerizing. Finally, Jack took a step closer and managed to stammer, “L-L-L-Listen, Mr. Fournier, I-I-I know it’s real weird but I was wonderin’ if ya could–?”

He never finished because Laurent appeared in the doorway at that moment and nearly dropped his wine glass when he realized who Luc was talking to. “Jesus Christ! Is that really Jack Watanabe?” he gushed. “What’re the fucking odds?”

Luc was wondering the same thing but took the opportunity to retreat because the jock was standing a little too close for his comfort. Jack had been so near that his rich, musky scent saturated the air around them, overwhelming even the salty breath of the sea. He didn’t know if it was the jock’s powerful aroma or what but he suddenly felt lightheaded. His stomach flipped and he gripped the railing to steady himself, shaking his head. Was it the wine?

He didn’t have a chance to figure it out because a freak breeze blew in from the otherwise still harbor right then. He looked over at Jack in time to see the jock’s robe billow up over his head. Like Marilyn Monroe in The Seven Year Itch straddling that damned sidewalk grate, Jack tried frantically to push the garment back down again but it was no use. His big, bare ass and huge male appendage were wantonly exposed in the moonlight.

Laurent’s mouth fell open and Luc’s face colored as he turned away. To make matters worse, the twins decided to join them on the deck at that very moment and both Thierry and Jacques witnessed the whole thing.

“Jesus,” Thierry breathed, completely dazzled by Jack’s display. “Who the fuck are you and can I have your number?”

“Get in line, bro!” Laurent said, pushing him out of the way. “I was here first!”

Jack backed away from them, embarrassed. Luc found this somehow funny because he’d just been posing nude for an art class. If anyone was going to be embarrassed here, it should be Luc. Why the fuck did Jack Watanabe expose himself every time they met? It was just plain bizarre. And, yeah, it was more than a little embarrassing.

Jack started to hold up his hands but stopped when he realized that would cause his robe to fall open. Instead, he turned to go, saying over his shoulder, “If you wanna see more of me, come to the art class downstairs. For ten bucks, you can sketch me–all of me!–for as long as ya want!”

They watched him depart, bemused. Being straight, Jacques was nonplussed but Laurent and Thierry couldn’t stop drooling. “Forget I ever said anything negative ‘bout art,” Thierry was saying, “I’m gonna quit my job and take up drawing full time!”

“Why wait?” Laurent replied. “We could both start right now.” His eyes were alight with mischief. “Wanna go see if they’ll let us in?”

“Dude, I’m so there!”

Luc and Jacques shook their heads, watching their brothers make a beeline for the studio space downstairs.

“Who was that guy?” Jacques asked finally. “He seemed to know you.”

Luc’s cheeks colored a deeper shade of red. “He’s, uh, nobody. I mean, he’s somebody, of course. I just don’t know him. His name’s Jack Watanabe and he plays on the university basketball team. Laurent and I saw him, ahem, play last week.”

“Really? That’s the guy who showed his hole to the, er, whole world? You know him? How? Why?” Jacques just wouldn’t let this go!

“I don’t know him!” Luc insisted. “I’ve only met him once. He registered for my wood carving class this semester but dropped it the next day.” (He’d actually dropped more than just the class but there was no way Luc was going to reveal that to Jacques!) He held up his hands, “That’s it! Really.”

“Uh huh.” Jacques’ eyes were narrowed. “You seem awful flustered right now, bro. I’m here for you if you ever need me. Yer my bi, I mean, my big brother after all.”

“Haha.” Luc’s face was so hot! “Can you drop it? We should get back inside before Aimée wonders what happened to us.”

“Aw, she’s fine. And it’s too hot in there anyways,” Jacques mused, leaning against the railing next to him and folding his arms. He was silent for so long that Luc found himself studying him closely. It was a bit of an eye-opening experience because he realized his ‘little’ brother had really filled out over the past couple of years. Jacques might be younger than Luc but he was built much heavier and worked out at the gym a lot. His biceps were about ready to bust out of his flannel shirt.

Finally, Jacques stirred, taking a deep breath and exhaling as he gazed out on the harbor. What he said next startled Luc. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever told you how impressed I am with you, bud. And Aimée, too. You both have really done great. I know it’s hard bein’ an artist these days. I’m impressed by yer talent. I wish I had even half of it.”

Luc stared at his brother in wonder. Jacques wasn’t normally one to be forthcoming with praise. In fact, he wasn’t very forthcoming with anything. Getting two words out of him was a challenge most days.

“Thanks, Jacques,” he said, wondering if maybe the guy was drunk and that was the reason he was acting like this. “That means a lot. And I’m proud of you, too. You’re only twenty-six and already own your own business. That’s an accomplishment right there! You’re just as talented as me, only in different ways.”

Jacques regarded him for a long time before looking back out over the harbor. The foghorn sounded mournfully in the distance and Luc realized that mist was creeping in from the ocean. It would soon engulf the harbor and the town.

Jacques smiled, “I’m glad we’re brothers, Luc.” He nudged him with his hulking shoulder. “I feel like I lucked out with you as my big, bi brother, and with Thierry as my gay twin. To say nothing of that silly little faggot Laurent and our feisty little Aimée. Ha! Ain’t we a family?!”

---

All five of the Fournier siblings met up in the pub down the coast in the small village of Courtney Downs later that evening. The fog was thick by then and Luc took the drive slowly. He’d insisted on driving his brothers because they were more than a little drunk whereas he’d limited himself to a half of a glass of wine. Part of him wondered if it was wise to go out at all but he was overruled by Aimée; she got the final vote because they were celebrating her big opening.

The four men piled out of his truck with Laurent, Jacques and Thierry making their way unsteadily over the gravel parking lot to the front door of the pub. When Laurent tugged open the heavy door made out of driftwood, the sound of traditional maritime music poured out into the parking lot. Luc smiled; a couple of his hockey buddies played in the band which meant there were bound to be more of his friends here as well.

Sure enough, a ragged cheer broke out when entered and his friends, Cedric and Simon, waved them over to their table. “Lucien!” Cedric bellowed. “Get yer skinny lil’ arse over here right now!”

He stood up when Luc approached and wrapped him in a bear hug, patting him fondly on the butt. Luc smiled to himself. Cedric always got handsy when you got a few beers in him, a fact he’d used to his advantage more than a few times over the many years they’d known each other. Cedric would never tell his wife but he and Luc had made out a few times, even exchanging a handjob or two in the parking lot after the bar closed. Cedric was a good kisser, too!

Simon, on the other hand, was always tightly wound and only nodded curtly to him as he sat down. He did, however, ask, “Aimée’s coming, right?”

Luc turned to him and smiled. “Yeah, she’ll be here. She had to go home and tuck Jordan into bed first but she’ll definitely be here.”

Simon relaxed visibly and even forced a small smile. It was common knowledge among Luc’s teammates that Simon was crushing on his sister, trying desperately to get up the nerve to ask her out on a date.

The crowd grew rowdy and the music got louder as the evening wore on. Knowing their audience, the band switched to playing sea shanties and Luc grinned as his friends drunkenly sang along. He was basically an introvert but he did enjoy spending time with family and friends. The icing on the cake was when Aimée arrived, sweeping in with a flourish as she settled into the chair between Luc and Simon.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Brother!” she whispered, kissing him on the ear. She looked radiant, her blue eyes sparkling and her long, black curling with the humidity of the sea fog. “And thank you for dragging those idiots to my show tonight. At least, I think I’m thankful.” She pulled a face and they both started giggling. Turning to Simon, she dazzled him with her smile. “Simon!” she exclaimed. “You’re here, too, huh? I’m so happy. Now, would you be so kind as to get me a beer?”

Flushed with pride, Simon immediately got up to fulfill the lady’s request as Aimée and Luc exchanged news and gossip from the evening. When Simon returned with the beer, Luc decided it was time to give the two lovebirds some space and got up to take a piss.

He pushed his way through the crowd, laughing and joking with people he knew along the way. When he walked into the men’s restroom, though, he stopped in his tracks, staring in disbelief: Jack Watanabe was standing with his back to him in front of the bank of urinals. The jock glanced over his beefy shoulder at Luc as he entered, biting his lower lip and giving him what could only be described as a lust-filled stare.

“Dude! I’m so glad yer here!” he called out. “C’mere! I gotta show ya something!”

Before Luc could react, he leaned forward and spread his legs wide, arching his back slightly. His pants dropped and Luc blinked as Jack’s big, firm, round, voluptuous cakes parted and he was greeted for a second time by the view of his little brown pucker.

“Jesus!” he cried, putting his hand in front of his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Are you stalking me or something?”

He turned to go but somehow Jack managed to shuffle over and catch him by the arm before he could flee. He swung Luc around to face him and Luc’s cheeks flushed crimson at the sight of the jock’s long, thick, uncircumcised member dangling like a heavy log between his smooth thighs. His mouth fell open, nostrils filling both with Jack’s potent man-stink and the salty, tangy scent of bladderwrack.

Jack seemed to become aware of just how compromised he was at that moment and froze. His stubbly cheeks went from pink to red in seconds as he stood there, fish-mouthing. Finally, he managed to stammer, “I-I-It’s not what it looks like! I ain’t no stalker! I juss wanna–”

Before he could finish, the door swung open behind them and Jacques’ voice rang out, taunting, “Well, well, well! What do we have here?”

They spun around to find all three of Luc’s brothers standing behind them. Jacques looked amused but Thierry and Laurent’s faces were twisted with jealousy. Without thinking, Luc reacted by kneeling down and grabbing Jack’s jeans from around his ankles, trying desperately to pull them up and cover those big, bouncy buttocks. The only problem was this put said buttocks directly in his face and he was momentarily astounded by their proximity. He’d never been that close to a man’s ass quite so ripe and luscious before and was momentarily mesmerized. He recovered quickly, though, stuffing those giant buns into Jack’s overstretched pants, but not before his brothers registered his reaction.

“We thought we saw him,” Thierry pointed at Jack, “sneaking in here and got suspicious when you darted in a moment later. Care to explain what’s going on, bro?”

“I didn’t follow him! I didn’t even know he was here! And nothing’s going on!” Luc insisted. He was vaguely aware of Jack’s shoulders sagging as he uttered these words but didn’t have the time to dwell on it. “I don’t even know him!”

“And yet every time you’re with him,” Laurent pointed out, “he’s naked. How come?”

“That’s not true and you know it!” Luc persisted. “It’s not like I made his shorts rip during the basketball game or I caused the wind to blow up his robe tonight! I’m innocent! I don’t know why the fuck he keeps exposing himself! It’s creepy!”

“I’m not creepy!” Jack protested, sounding hurt. “Really! I’m not a creep!” He’d clapped his hands over his crotch but his big, bulging ass cheeks were still mostly sticking out of his unzipped pants. “You just won’t let me explain!”

“What could possibly explain your prurient need to expose yourself to me all the time?” Luc demanded. “I’m tired of it! Now get out of here!” He pointed to the door.

Jack hung his head, grumbling, “I ain’t disgustin’, bro. There ain’t nuthin’ disgustin’ ‘bout me or my body.”

“I would agree with that statement,” Thierry interjected, earning a poke in the ribs from Laurent.

Ignoring Thierry, Jack continued petulantly, “I need to ask ya sumthin’ is all.” He thrust out his lower lip, “Would ya finally let me?”

“I-I-I,” Luc couldn’t seem to make his mouth work. His face was beet red by this point and he desperately wanted to be out of this situation.

Jacques took that moment to intercede. “Bro? Luc?” When Luc looked over at him, Jacques’ eyes were soft. “Juss listen to him. Let him talk.”

Jack nodded gratefully. “Yeah, yeah! Juss lemme talk to ya!”

“Oh, alright,” Luc said, helping Jack to pull his jeans up over the significant rise of his bounteous butt cheeks. “Just make it quick. What do you want from me?”

Jack’s eyes fell to the floor and he grew suddenly bashful. “I, uh, can’t do it here. Not like this. It’s gotta be in private.”

Luc cast an exasperated look at his brothers, pleading, “Would you give us a minute? Maybe stand outside the door and keep other guys from entering until we’re done?”

Laurent and Thierry started to protest but Jacques grabbed them by the elbows and steered them towards the door. Before they had taken two steps, though, Jack stopped them, announcing, “I won’t do it here. I need more privacy.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Luc huffed. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You just dropped your pants and spread your cheeks for me in a public restroom but you can’t ask me a stupid question unless it’s in private?”

“It ain’t a stupid question!” Jack insisted, stung. “I ain’t stupid, bro! I know ya think I’m dumb but I ain’t! And I’ll explain everything to ya, I promise. I know it don’t make no sense to ya right now but it will. I swear!”

“Bro,” Jacques encouraged, “just take him home with you! You know that’s what he wants! C’mon! I’m not even gay and I can see that plain as day. I don’t understand why you’re being so prissy right now. There’s a hot, young jock standing in front of you who keeps taking off his clothes. What more do you want? Just. Take. Him. Home.”

“No!” Thierry and Laurent barked in unison, turning on Jacques with outrage. “What the fuck are you sayin’?!”

“Yes!” Jack agreed, happily shaking his head. “That’s a great idea. Take me home! I wanna go home with you!” Before Luc could stop him, he bridged the gap between them and took him in his burly arms, hugging him tight. Lifting his lips to gently kiss him, he purred, “Take me, Mr. Fournier! I’m yours!”

Luc went rigid. He could see Laurent and Thierry’s stricken faces out of the corner of his eye. Clearly, they were very unhappy but this sudden turn of events. Jacques, however, took charge of them, shepherding them out of the restroom and leaving Luc and Jack alone. Jack clung to him, taking his hands and making him hug him back. Luc eventually responded, although his hug could only be considered tepid. Finally, he resigned himself to his fate and reluctantly led the jock out of the bathroom. They made their way across the crowded bar with Luc’s cheeks burning all the while. He felt like he was taking the walk of shame, especially with Jack holding his hand tightly and trailing along behind him like a lovesick puppy with his big ass cheeks still mostly hanging out of the back of his jeans.

He’d never live this one down!

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