The following morning, Matthew dressed Lukas in the same little jocks that he had worn on Wednesday when they went to the beach. They had been washed, by McCady, obviously, and they were folded, at the front of the drawer, on the top of one of the little piles.

Lukas probably would have worn them anyway.

Or might have.

They had tightened up a bit, after the wash, and Matthew figured he couldn’t risk stretching them again. They would probably tear. And they weren’t going to come down anyway.

He had figured a way of getting them off Lukas, if Lukas did really wear them in the surf, and was up on the board, with Matthew helping him.

A few of the strands in the ladder down the front had broken in the wash, and Lukas’ cock was a little bit more exposed than it had been. It didn’t look too bad, in the mirror, but if Matthew did anything more to them, they would just fall apart.

As it was, it was doubtful whether Lukas would really wear them, once he pulled his jeans down on the beach, and realised what he had on.

Matthew had rung Lukas yesterday afternoon, and had said to him, if it’s a fine day tomorrow, do you want to go to the beach?

Lukas had been happy. Whatever had happened in the morning, with McCady, with all that banishing of evil spirits out of his mind, had obviously passed, and Lukas was in a good mood. They had even laughed together on the phone.

‘I can’t get that movie out of my mind,’ Matthew had said. ‘That guy getting wasted.’

It was the only way he was ever going to get to do it, if he got Lukas to admit that he wanted it done, that he wanted Matthew to do it. If he could get Lukas to talk about it, then it might really happen.

Matthew hoped so.

Lukas was sure he’d put on a pair of dark blue jocks today. They had a Frosty the Snowman on the front. It said Frosty, so Matthew knew it was Frosty. By the time Lukas was pulling his T-shirt on, and again, later, when he was pulling his sandals on, he was sure he had put the Frosty jocks on.

Matthew kept reminding him. Kept presenting the image of how they looked to Lukas, telling Lukas he had put them on, because Lukas had actually put them on, and done his jeans up, before Matthew changed him.

The Frosty ones were pretty silly, but Lukas didn’t really have that many that weren’t, and Matthew figured he’d agree to wear his jocks on the beach today, if he had a memory of what he had put on.

He knew he was wearing the Frosty jocks.

The only thing that could happen was if Lukas went to the toilet, and found out that he didn’t have them on, though he had been before he had a shower. Matthew had been with him, since seven-thirty, coming into Lukas’ mind while he was still asleep.

Lukas had been dreaming about clouds, about clouds in his bedroom, tiny little clouds, miniature ones, that were floating everywhere, chest high. And Lukas was walking through them, like he was a giant. He turned around, and behind him, the sun was streaming out of his sitting room.

And then water started to flood the room, pouring in through the door until Lukas was drowning.

As soon as Lukas was ready, Matthew phoned him.

‘So do you want to go?’

‘Yeah.’ Again, Lukas sounded happy.

‘Remember to bring a towel.’

Matthew had made sure, this morning, that Lukas would remember to bring a towel, saying to him, Matthew has your trunks. You only need a towel.

By the end of it Lukas had been nodding. He had to bring a towel. He didn’t need anything else, but he had to bring a towel. In the end, he had even gone and gotten a towel, a beach towel, and put it on the end of his bed, just in case they went. It was a fine day. They would be going. Lukas was excited about it.

It wouldn’t be like the other day, when what had happened in the shower had happened. Matthew had even said to him, ‘I get stiffs all the time. I can’t control it. I shouldn’t have said what I said.’

And he had said he didn’t care if Lukas was gay!

Lukas couldn’t wait till Matthew got there. He was nervous about it. Nervous to think Matthew might not phone him, that they might not go.

It wasn’t any surprise to Matthew, then, that Lukas sounded happy, sitting on his bed, most likely, talking to Matthew, with those faded little ABC jocks on under his jeans.

Man, that was a joke!

Matthew caught a cab, and paid for it himself.

Lukas met him at the front door with a towel in his hand, folded. A beach towel. The same one that he had put out on his bed.

He had nothing else in his hands.

‘Are you ready to go?’ Matthew said.

Lukas nodded. He was smiling. He looked not only happy, but excited.

It was nine-thirty.

At five past eleven, Matthew was pulling into the car park at Whale. It was a hot day, but a bit too windy. There were only ten or fifteen cars there.

‘Have you got my trunks?’ Lukas said.

‘Hang on.’

Matthew reached around behind the seat and pulled his pack onto his lap. He unzipped it, and started looking through it, moving things aside with his hands: the two towels he had in there; his lunchbox, which was somehow still in there from school; a paperback copy of Mansfield Park, also from school, twisted and water-stained; his sunglasses; his sunscreen; a T-shirt.

‘Shit,’ he said, and starting pulling things out of it.

When he had pulled everything out, he turned to Lukas.

‘I must have taken them out, when I took the towels out.’

Lukas nodded.

Matthew put everything back into the bag, feeling his heart thudding in his chest, excited, but wondering what he could say to Lukas next. What was Lukas thinking? He wasn’t saying anything. Did he think Matthew had done it on purpose?

‘Can you swim in your jocks?’ Matthew said, after he had zipped up the bag and turned to Lukas.

‘Maybe her shop’s open. It’s Friday. She’d probably come in on a Friday.’

‘Are you going to buy another pair?’

‘They looked good,’ Lukas said. ‘I really liked them.’

‘I’ve got them at home. I must have had them between the towels. They’ll be in the laundry.’

‘I don’t want to swim in my jocks. Unless I have to.’

‘It’s practically the same thing,’ Matthew said. ‘They’re like jocks anyway.’

But Lukas wanted to go and see if the shop was open.

When they got out of the car, they had to walk up the esplanade to the turn off to James Street. Matthew hadn’t parked down here before, where there were practically no cars. He’d been parking up the road a bit, closer to the shops, but there was a house here, the only house in Whale Beach, eighty or a hundred years old, Matthew supposed. Built way back before the area was declared a national park.

‘That looks pretty weird, eh?’ Matthew said, as they were passing it.

Lukas turned his head to look at the house.

It was a ramshackle old weatherboard that had once been painted white. The paint was peeling though, and the veranda that ran all along the front of the house was buckled, like rolling waves.

It looked abandoned.

‘Like it’s haunted or something,’ Lukas said.

The shop wasn’t open, but as they were walking down to the beach, Lukas discovered that he’d forgotten his wallet.

‘And I haven’t got my phone either,’ he said, stopped at the top of the stairs, and with both hands thrust into his pockets.

‘Does it matter?’

‘I don’t suppose so,’ Lukas said. He was smiling, and he trotted down the stairs to catch up to Matthew, his towel slung over one shoulder.

Matthew was carrying the board.

Both of them were wearing sandals and they stepped out of them together once they had flung their towels out. Matthew ripped his T-shirt off and sat down. He had his sunscreen in his hand already, and he squirted some out, waiting to see Lukas undress.

He was probably going to freak when he realised what he was wearing. He knew he had put those Frosty jocks on. It was a memory.

Lukas unbuttoned his jeans. Unzipped them. And pulled them down. His T-shirt was blousy, and as he bent, it covered his groin, so he couldn’t see what jocks he had on.

Still, though, Matthew had caught a glimpse of them. And had seen what they were. The faded little ABC jocks. Meant for a four year old. With a ladder all down the front of them. And a hole in the rear, double the size of a dime. So thin, they were see-through, even without being wet.

And as Lukas pulled his T-shirt over his head, Matthew got a good look. Lukas’ sack was bulging out the sides of them. His cock, about as long as it could get, was hanging straight down the front, practically naked, only hidden by the horizontal strands of fabric in the ladder, which continued all the way down the front and widened under his ball sack, until it was the whole width of the seam, sitting up under his perineum.

When Lukas had taken his jeans off, he had stood there, folding them, and then bent forward and put them on top of his sandals. Matthew hadn’t looked then, but his heart had been racing. Now, as Lukas was pulling his T-shirt over his head, Matthew’s heart was thumping.

Still, at any moment, Lukas was going to see what he was wearing, and stop. There was no way he’d stand on the beach in those. Matthew knew this, as he saw Lukas’ chest extended, his arms up over his head as he pulled his T-shirt off. His stomach was sucked in, and he was practically, as good as, or better than, naked.

Matthew concentrated on what he was doing, rubbing sunscreen into his chest. He was expecting Lukas to shriek, or something, at any moment, but when he looked up again, he saw Lukas folding his T-shirt, holding it out in front of his body, and folding it. He hadn’t even looked down yet, and realised what he had on.

Matthew didn’t think he could do that. He didn’t think he could get undressed like that, without looking at what he had on. But Lukas had a strange way of doing everything. Like he had to fold every piece of clothing before he turned his attention to the next thing.

Lukas put his T-shirt on top of his jeans, and then it happened. He stood up again, and turned around to look at the beach. The jocks were caught right up his arse. Matthew didn’t know how he couldn’t notice. Lukas had his hands on his hips, looking at the water. And then he reached back with his fingers, and slid them down the sides of his jocks, pulling the jocks out of his crack.

Matthew realised what he was doing.

He was trying to look cool, like he knew he had jocks on but it didn’t matter. He had stood there for a moment, with his hands on his hips and looked at the water, but he must have known the jocks were caught up in his arse, which was why he had turned around. There was no one behind them. He slid his fingers down the insides of his jocks, pulling them out of his arse, but as he did this, he realised there was something wrong. There was no way they were going to cover his arse cheeks. Most of his arse cheeks were bare. He looked down at what he was wearing.

And then he turned around and collapsed onto his towel, next to Matthew, propped up on his elbows.

‘Shit,’ he said, biting his lips. He was red in the face already.

‘What?’

‘I’ve got these stupid jocks on.’

‘What’s wrong with them?’ Matthew said, turning to look casually at Lukas’ arse. He turned back to Lukas, frowning.

‘They’re too small for me.’

Matthew propped himself up and looked at them properly. Lukas’ arse looked so sweet that he felt a choking feeling in his throat. Most of the rear of the jocks barely bridged Lukas’ crack. And they may as well have been made out of a tissue.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Matthew said, falling back onto his elbows.

‘Do they look stupid?’ Lukas was still biting his lips, staring at the towel in front of him.

‘They look okay to me.’

‘They’ve got this sort of big hole thing at the front.’

‘Show me.’

Lukas turned on his side, not looking down himself, but looking at Matthew’s face.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Matthew said.

‘Can you see my cock?’

‘Not really.’

‘Do you reckon I could wear your jocks?’

‘I’ve got a jockstrap on,’ Matthew said, lying down with his arms folded under him, but keeping his head toward Lukas.

‘Shit,’ Lukas said.

‘What the fuck are you worrying about?’

‘Do they look okay?’

‘They look like speedos.’

‘You reckon?’

Matthew nodded.

Lukas sucked in a big breath and blew it out through his mouth with puffed out cheeks.

He lay down, like Matthew was, lying on folded arms, but with his head turned towards Matthew.

‘Are you sure they look okay?’

‘Do you want me to wear them?’

Lukas smiled, like he had to control himself to keep himself from laughing, controlling his lips.

‘Is that funny?’

‘Well they wouldn’t fit you. They hardly fit me.’

‘They don’t look that small.’

‘Would you wear them?’

‘If you want me to.’

Lukas chuckled.

They stared at each other for a moment, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. Time stretched into eternity.

‘You should wear speedos,’ Lukas said, at the end of it.

‘My gear’s too big.’

‘You’d look like that guy, in the movie.’

Matthew said nothing.

‘If you got a red pair.’

Matthew unfolded his arms and stretched them out, putting his hands under his groin, but still, he kept his face turned toward Lukas.

Lukas started again.

‘Would you like it, if I smashed your gear, with a baseball bat?’

‘I thought you kind of looked like that kid.’

‘Yeah. I thought you looked like that guy.’

Matthew frowned. ‘I’m not as big as he was.’

‘Are you serious? Your cock’s heaps bigger than that.’

That wasn’t what Matthew meant, but,

‘You should see it when it’s hard,’ he said.

Lukas swallowed.

‘I’ll show you. When we get in the change room.’