“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s a lot for me to ask you to trust me. I get that. And I guess there’s always a chance we’ll hurt each other again. But I’m willing to risk it if you are. I’ll try my best, but all I ask is that I’m allowed to talk about it with you if I get afraid again—that we talk about everything. That we do this thing together.”

Fergal turned toward Joe, his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but also like he was afraid to say it. Joe knew what he was thinking because he was thinking it too; whatever words came out of Fergal’s mouth at that moment would change everything for them forever. For several more agonizing seconds they sat there, staring at each other in suspended animation, Fergal about to say something, Joe waiting and breathing into what he had learned in the dream.Whatever happens, it’s just the path. I can handle anything.

Suddenly, as if the ocean could no longer bear the suspense, a heavy and unexpected wave leaped up over them, bowling them over into each other’s arms and sending them tumbling into the shallow surf. When they stopped laughing, their eyes met.

“Okay,” Fergal said. “I’m in.” He leaned over and kissed Joe’s wet lips. As the kiss deepened, they fell back, Fergal on top of Joe, hearts pounding, tongues wrestling, hands grasping, pelvises thrusting.

“Let’s move up the beach a little,” Fergal said, standing up and offering his hand to Joe. “I don’t want you to drown while I’m kissing you.”

As they settled on a spot about ten feet above the surf line, Joe gave a little eyebrow wiggle. “You wouldn’t have any of those condoms on you, would ya?”

Fergal fished into the soaked back pocket of his board shorts, first pulling out a small bottle of lube and then a string of three condom packets, each decorated with an ancient helmet. “I hope you prefer Trojans over Gladiators.”

“I do.” Joe laughed. “I really do. But let me clean some of the sand out of my … you know,the important spots.”

Joe awkwardly pulled his sandy, drenched white shorts off past his aching erection and then swam to a deeper spot to get cleaned up. Fergal watched and smiled until Joe stumbled back onto the beach. There appeared to be no diminishment in excitement for either man.

“My turn,” Fergal said as he laid out his wet T-shirt on the softer, dryer part of the sand. “Meanwhile you can lie down here.” He started for the water, and just as he was nearing the line of bigger waves, he called out, “On your stomach please!”

Hearing those words made Joe’s entire body vibrate with excitement. He tried to act calm as he laid himself down belly first, butt up to the stars, easing his too-hard erection to the side for comfort. Then, craning his neck and shoulders, he watched Fergal yank down his board shorts, his perfect cock snapping to attention, its unhooded tip yowling at the moon. Smiling back at Joe, he did one of his almost acrobatic dives under a wave, disappearing for a disturbingly long time and then joyously rocketing out of the water,just like he had done that first morning Joe saw him on the beach. Joe inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his throbbing heart, trying to comprehend everything the dream had taught him and how everything that had happened in his life had led him to this exact moment, about to make love to Fergal.This is right, this is good, this is how it should be.

Fergal, having finished washing up, trudged up onto the beach. For a moment he simply stood there in the surf, completely naked and dripping, hairy and hard in all the right places, the ocean crashing behind him, the warm wind blowing across his long, lean body; the white moons of his muscular, untanned butt cheeks the brightest thing on the beach. The way Fergal was looking out over the water reminded Joe of someone who was praying. After a moment he turned and slowly walked up to where Joe was lying on his stomach and then fell to his knees and, like he had done that night in the attic, spread Joe’s ass cheeks and began using his mouth, tongue, fingers—and whatever other mysterious appendage might be available to him—to make Joe’s body swoon and shiver.

Like before, Joe’s mind dove beneath the surface of Fergal’s blue-blue sea, only deeper than before. With each magical maneuver of Fergal’s mouth on Joe’s body, sea creatures began floating across Joe’s brain: pods of smiling dolphins and whales; undulating manta rays; schools of glittering fish; seahorses the size of Labradors; and finally, as he neared the ocean floor, a small group of stunning creatures, half-human, half-fish, with muscular bodies, long flowing hair, and iridescent green and blue fishtails. They nodded knowingly at Joe, as if they were the only beings that could truly understand the depth of what he was feeling at that moment.

After what could have been fifteen minutes or an hour (he had lost track of time), Joe came out of the trance as Fergal stopped what he was doing and whispered, “Flip over. I need to look at that face.”

Joe complied as Fergal tore open one of the condom packets and stretched the latex sheath over his cock, rubbing it with a thick layer of lube. He then lifted Joe’s muscular legs so that his anklesrested on Fergal’s shoulders. Joe’s body shook from the slight chill in the air, but more from the anticipation.

“You all good?” Fergal asked.

“So good,” Joe said, meaning it. “I’ve never wanted something more.”

Fergal took a deep, smiling breath and pressed the tip of his cock inside Joe. Joe winced a little at the pleasurable pain of it. Fergal’s raised eyebrows signaled for Joe to let him know how he was doing. Joe nodded encouragingly. He wanted more. Fergal went a little deeper, then a little more, but before it went any further, Fergal stopped, which made Joe’s heart jump in a momentary panic.

“Is something wrong?” Joe asked.

“Just making a little adjustment I think you’ll like.” Fergal lowered one of Joe’s legs to the ground, while keeping the other on his shoulder. This allowed Fergal to lean his long torso over Joe so he could both warm him and press his mouth to his. Joe moaned in pure gratitude, both for the warmth and for how well Fergal already understood him. Fergal slowly moved deeper until, with an extra deep kiss, Joe’s insides opened and closed around Fergal, embracing him as if he was always meant to be there.

Lifting his lips only slightly from Joe’s, Fergal whispered, “Your dream didn’t lie. I love you, Joe.”

“I know,” Joe whispered back. “I always knew.”

They fell back into their kiss, which grew deeper and wetter, as if all the Earth’s oceans were flowing back and forth between their bodies, connecting them completely, fully, fearlessly.

They made love for hours until, utterly spent, they lay pressed against each other at the edge of the surf, the sea’s frothy tongue tickling their toes. Joe’s head made a pillow of Fergal’s bicep while one leg flopped over Fergal’s thigh to keep him warm. They breathed in the scent of each other’s sticky, sweaty flesh, felt the tickle of each other’s body hair, swallowed the sweet and salty spit from each other’s mouth. The Atlantic roared its approval, the wind whispered words of thanks, the screeches of the seagulls called out hallelujahs. And Joe knew, down to his bones, that if anything tried to tear them apart again, be it Gladiator, disease, or self-doubt, it wouldn’t stand a chance.

THE BALCONY OF THE PROMETHEAN—5:43AMMonday morning

Beethoven’s Fifth poured from the Promethean sound system—DJ Mike’s closing signature. It had been hours since the sudden storm had ended. The quorum lay on the club’s outdoor balcony, skirtless and completely spent. The gold of divine guidance and wisdom encircled all of them with white flashes of light—a perfect connection to the cosmos. The Great Balance had begun to be restored.

“So, we’re one hundred percent certain?” Ronnie asked. “Joe is gonna be all right?”

“We’ve told you a dozen times already.” Howie took Ronnie’s hand. “He’s better than all right. He and Fergal are now up in the attic, all curled up in each other’s arms.”

“Thank the Great Goddess Mother,” Ronnie said, which still felt strange. Who exactly the Great Goddess Mother was, he still wasn’t quite sure, but he knew she had something to do with what had happened on the dance floor and in helping Joe home safely.

“You’re one of us now, Ronnie,” Dory said. “What do you think?”