Desert Island Ch 01 1

Chapter 1.

(Jack)

It took me several moments to come to my senses as I was woken by the sound of seagulls screeching. I stretched my tired, bruised body and wiped the sand from my face. Gingerly, I pulled myself into a seated position and looked out to sea. How was I still alive? I looked up and down the beach for other survivors, squinting to fight against my swimming vision. The entire beach was littered with the contents of the boat lying beached in the sand, but there was no one else in sight. My throat was scratchy and sore from dehydration, and the midday sun was glaring down on me, meaning things would only get worse. I knew I needed to get into the shade of the trees and look for help. So, I forced myself onto unstable legs and staggered up to the tree line, where I ungraciously sank back to the ground, panting for breath as exhaustion once again overtook my body and I passed out.

When I next came to, the sun had set, although the full moon provided enough light to see by. I looked along the shoreline and was shocked to see many of the items were gone, leaving only three cases; the tide must have carried the others away. Annoyed at myself for not salvaging more in time, I used a nearby tree to pull myself upright and walked on wobbly legs towards the crashing waves. I first grabbed the case being licked by waves, pulling it several meters up the beach and then returning, doing the same with the remaining two. Sitting on the smallest of the cases, I pulled open the zip of the largest, which was full of clothes, and to my relief, a large bottle of water. I unscrewed the lid and drank greedily. The remaining two cases revealed yet more clothing, sunscreen, and a pair of trainers. These items wouldn't help me survive, but regardless, I carried the cases and their contents up to the tree line to ensure that those too wouldn't be lost to the sea. I'd watched enough survival shows to know that the logical next step was to look for food, a water source, and to prioritize building a shelter while looking for others from the boat.

Within the mix of unrecognizable trees, there were many coconut trees, but they were incredibly tall and slender. I thought with a sting that I should have tried harder in PE. I was averagely built and stood at 5'10, but definitely did not have the strength to climb several meters without other branches to cling to. At 18 years old, I had tanned skin, with brown hair and eyes.

I spent the next few hours reflecting on everything that had led up to me boarding that godforsaken boat. It had been the only means of escaping my family that I could afford, and I'd paid cash, so they'd not be able to track me. Not that I really thought they would, but I wasn't taking chances. From the moment I first boarded, I'd had a bad feeling. The sight of some of the crew and the state of the boat had unsettled me, leading me to spend most of my time in my tiny cabin, avoiding interactions as much as possible.

The night brought with it a chill that sank into my bones. I pulled on several layers of what dry clothing I could find and curled into a ball, forcing myself to sleep.

I woke to the sun beginning to peek over the horizon and, hauling myself up, mustered the energy to look for food. I'd barely explored more than one hundred yards when I heard something. Was it someone shouting? I stopped walking and strained my ears. I heard it again and stumbled towards the sound, when suddenly, clearer, I heard a man's voice, "Is anybody out there?" I took off running in the direction it came from, my trainers slipping in the loose sand, calling back, "I'm coming, where are you?"

"I'm here. I'm here!"

I rounded the corner of the beach and almost ran headlong into a practically naked man wearing only briefs and a pair of trainers. We reached for each other's shoulders and collapsed together, both winded. I stammered, "I thought I was alone. I'm not alone."

"I was so scared."

"Me too."

I looked up at the guy's face and saw him wipe tears from his eyes. He pulled me in for a hug, and we clung to each other as our breathing steadied. "I'm Jack. I found some cases that way. I have water," I continued stammering.

The guy pulled back, his hands lingering on my shoulders. "Amazing. Thank you." He took a few deep breaths and continued, "I remember seeing you on the boat. I'm Aaron." I nodded in agreement.

We helped each other unsteadily to our feet and began walking back up the beach, both holding tightly to the other's shoulders, scared to be left alone again.

Aaron and I passed the water back and forth as we spoke. "Fuck," he breathed, "I was really starting to think I was alone. I don't think I've ever been so scared."

"Same here. Do you remember anything that happened?"

He shook his head, "Nah. I woke up to the alarm. The water was already ankle deep, and by the time I made it up the stairs, I was pulled into the ocean. I honestly don't know how I'm not dead. I'm just glad I pulled on a life jacket."

"I would say we're lucky. But I'm not sure I feel it just yet. I guess that's what you get when you cross the ocean in the cheapest way possible."

It was then that I really looked at Aaron, taking in his lean, defined build, and maybe a couple of inches taller than me. His skin was smooth and pale, which perfectly complemented his short ginger hair. I couldn't help but picture where that orange hair continued past his waistband. "So, quick question. Erm, why are you in nothing but a pair of tiny pants and trainers?"

Aaron glanced down at himself and let out a sheepish laugh. "Ah, yeah. About that... I had this brilliant idea to dry my clothes on some rocks. Turns out, the tide had other plans. Now I'm rocking the 'shipwrecked model' look." We laughed at his misfortune as he continued, "In regard to my 'tiny briefs,' I think I look cute in them."

I pulled out a vest and shorts from one of the cases. "Fair. If you've got it, flaunt it, I guess. You can have these if you like, though."

Aaron gratefully accepted the clothes and slipped them on. "Thanks, man. You're a lifesaver. Literally." He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm really glad I found you. Surviving alone would've been a real pain in the... well, you know."

That simple gesture of camaraderie made the whole ordeal feel a little less daunting.

After a few hours of back-and-forth conversation, Aaron asked, "So, what was your reason for being aboard?"

I let out a long, slow breath and decided that if I was ever going to open up to someone, it may as well be now. "To be honest, I was running away."

"Really? Can I ask from what?"

I nodded, "My dad. He's a drinker, and when he drinks, he gets violent. He got worse when he caught me kissing someone from school."

"Oh, shit." Aaron's hand found mine, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Yeah. Well, I got sick of being his punching bag. About a week ago, he stumbled into my bedroom yet again and started hitting me. I'd had enough, and without thinking, I smashed my lamp over his head, knocking him over. He was so drunk, he just rolled around threatening me."

"Fuck. I'm so sorry, Jack." Aaron's arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close as we walked, offering silent support.

"Others have lived through worse. Anyway, I knew then that I needed to run. I'd been saving to leave for a year, keeping cash behind my wardrobe." I took a moment to collect my thoughts before continuing, "So I threw on a jacket, grabbed the money, and got a coach to the shore and looked for the cheapest passage I could find; that's how I ended up on that fucking boat."

"That sucks. Seems like we both have sorry stories that led us here."

"Wanna share yours?" I asked, passing him the water bottle.

"An island therapy session. Why not?" He laughed. "I didn't know my parents. I've been in and out of foster care my whole life. I had some good carers, but most were pretty shitty. I finally turned 21 a few months back, and I took the grant I was given and decided to start over. That's how I ended up here."

I squeezed his forearm, "Well, when we get out of here, we'll still be able to start over."

A few hours later, we were exploring the area where we were stranded. The island had a shoreline of bays surrounded by natural groynes of large rocks that were eroded around the edges. The sandy beach gradually gave way to a dense jungle, with towering coconut trees and thick underbrush.

"The island looks quite big. So hopefully water and food won't be a problem," said Aaron, glancing around at the verdant surroundings.

"Yeah, the place looks lush enough. But I wonder if we're really alone here. Could be others, maybe even some locals," I pondered aloud, scanning the jungle for any signs of habitation.

"Think anyone's around?"

"I don't see any signs of life. No footprints or smoke from fires," I replied, my voice tinged with uncertainty. "But we should stay alert, just in case."

"Agreed. For now, it seems deserted. Let's just focus on surviving."

"Well, we'll count that as a blessing then. Who knows how long it'll take to be rescued," I replied, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation.

As we continued our exploration, the reality of our situation began to sink in. The island, while beautiful, was also daunting in its vastness and unfamiliarity. We needed to establish a plan for survival.

"We should probably set up a base camp," Aaron suggested, his eyes scanning the shoreline. "Somewhere safe and sheltered."

"Agreed," I replied. "Maybe find a stream. Fresh water is going to be crucial."

We made our way back to the area where we had found the cases, deciding it would be a good starting point. The shade of the trees provided some relief from the sun, and the proximity to the beach meant we could keep an eye out for any passing ships.

I recognised some of the nuts and fruits as edible, but there were plenty I'd never seen before. It didn't take long for us to have a whole selection of strange-looking fruits piled in front of us.

Aaron asked, "So, do you think they're safe to eat?"

I rolled a large purple fruit between my hands and said, "Well, I guess there's only one way to find out." I sank my teeth into the soft flesh. The juice squirted across both our faces, causing a fit of giggles as we continued to make our way through the variety of fruits. Once finished, Aaron reached across and swiped his thumb across my lip saying, "You're a messy eater." That small gesture brought a smile to my face.

Having explored the first several meters of jungle, Aaron said, "Do you think it's worth walking down the beach to look for other survivors and more supplies?"

"Yeah, good idea," I agreed. "Let's see what we can find."

We trudged through the wet sand for a long while, before coming to a rocky groyne, with rocks as wide and high as we were tall. Aaron climbed the first rock and then reached his hand down to help pull me up. Once we were level again Aaron placed his hands on both my shoulders, smiling broadly.

"What can you possibly be smiling about?" I laughed.

"I know it's weird, but I'm having fun," Aaron replied, his enthusiasm infectious.

"It'll be more fun when we find more supplies," I replied, slapping his hands away. We continued to make our way over the next few rocks, climbing and pulling one another up, then sliding down to the sand on the other side. There, we were surrounded by rock pools, which to our luck had uneven rocks that had managed to stop a few things from being washed back out to sea. On closer inspection, we found another two cases and a backpack with a sleeping bag attached.

One case held nothing but women's clothing. Aaron held up a skirt to his crouch and said with a smirk, "You know, this is my colour, and it would allow the boys to breathe."

I burst out laughing. "If you wanted your 'boys' to breathe, you should probably lose the itty-bitty pants you have on."

Aaron's smirk widened. "Do you know what? We're wild boys now. You're right." And in one swift movement, he pulled both his shorts and underwear down to his ankles, exposing his smooth, white, uncut cock nestled in a patch of bright orange pubes and low hanging balls. He stepped out of them, before pulling back on just the shorts. I shook my head laughing as I turned away, worried Aaron would see me getting a good look at his cock.

The second case held towels and more men's clothing; it was a combination of small shorts and vests. Aaron dug through it pulling out a tube. "What is that?" I questioned.

"Lube," Aaron said with a laugh, "You never know when it might come in handy." Before slipping it into his pocket. I laughed, a little uncomfortably and opened the remaining backpack.

"Holy shit. Jackpot!" Aaron fell to his knees alongside me, to get a look in the bag, seeing why I excited.

"A survival backpack? You have got to be joking, look there's more water!"

"And a knife!"

"A torch and a fire making kit." I reached forward and grabbed Aaron face with both hands and kissed him on the forehead with a loud "Mwah, we're gonna be okay mate!"

We continued looking through the backpack. There were also water purification tablets, a first aid kit, orange rope, and a thick roll of duct tape. I unzipped a small rectangular soft case. "One more thing in here." I opened up a little black pouch and tipped out a coil of metal with thick material handhold straps on each end.

"What is this? A medieval torture device?" I asked, holding up the coiled metal contraption.

Aaron glanced up. "It's a chainsaw, genius. For cutting branches, making shelter, firewood... you know, survival stuff."

I watched as he unsheathed the knife from its leather case. It was about six or seven inches long.

"Whoa. This is serious business, I'm so wild." He laughed swinging it through the air.

"Careful, I ain't no Doctor, Aaron!"

"Relax, I've got this," Aaron grinned, twirling the knife with exaggerated flair. "I've seen, like, three whole episodes of Bear Grylls."

"Great. When you inevitably stab yourself, just remember I failed first aid in school," I quipped, eyeing the blade warily.

We each took turns having small sips of water before I flung the backpack over my shoulder and shoved the sleeping bag under my arm, "Let's go back to the other cases."

Aaron smiled lifting the suitcase with the men's clothing, "Lead on Jack my friend."

Getting back was made slightly more difficult by the fact we each had a heavy bag to lug over the rocks and drag through the sand, but even that couldn't spoil our happy mood and comradery. I couldn't stop my mind from wandering. I thought about Aaron's thumb sliding across my lip, the comment he had made about the lube, the feelings I felt at seeing Aaron's dick. I wasn't sure how he'd react to me being gay, so when I told him my dad had seen me kissing someone, I'd left out the fact it was a boy. I hoped he would be okay with it.

Once we made it back, I unzipped the sleeping bag to make a kind of makeshift double bed, and Aaron used the flint and strike from the survival kit in an attempt to make a small fire. It took him over an hour of striking and referring back to the diagram before finally succeeding. He gave a whoop, throwing an arm over my shoulders saying, "See that, Jacky. I told you; Wild boy."

I playfully shoved his arm off my shoulder and said, "You definitely smell like a wild boy." We both laughed before deciding to wash off in the ocean.

Over the next week, we worked tirelessly to create both a modest camp and a large signal fire for when a boat or plane could be spotted. We'd been discussing how odd it was that we'd seen neither. We dug a makeshift commode a few minutes' walk from camp, but when we needed to piss, the ocean had become our bathroom. To begin with, we stood several meters apart, but over time we had gradually become more comfortable, fishing out our dicks and standing shoulder to shoulder, emptying our bladders into the waves, while I subtly checked him out; not that he was particularly shy.

We were both sporting cuts, scrapes, and blisters on our fingers from cutting, lugging, and stacking so much wood. Aaron had received a bit of a nasty scrape down the side of his face when he'd used a long branch to whack at the coconuts high in the trees. I'd fallen on the floor laughing when a coconut finally dropped, and a panicking Aaron dived out of the way into a bush. I'd suddenly stopped laughing when I saw the blood on his face. Luckily, it wasn't too deep, and now all that was left was new, pink skin.

Our camp was set several meters back from the tree line in the hopes that the trees would provide a barrier against a storm similar to the one that landed us here. We'd built our 'hut'--for lack of a better word--against a stone outcropping that already provided some natural shelter. Then we built makeshift walls by bundling branches together with rope and duct tape and twisting them between the bushes and trees. We also weaved large palm leaves between the stacks and across the top to create what we hoped would be a waterproof structure, just big enough for the sleeping bag and cases. I had also collected piles of moss and leaves to put beneath the sleeping bag to provide a softer sleeping surface.

I still hadn't told Aaron I was gay. I didn't want him to get weird about it. We'd been sharing the 'bed' each night since we'd got here, and it made me feel safe when I woke in the night, and he'd pulled me in tight. I didn't want that to change. But Aaron seemed comfortable enough in himself that it probably wouldn't bother him. He was so open and affectionate; it was hard to imagine him reacting badly.

That night, I sat up in bed, I could just make Aaron out from the moonlight filtering through the trees. His steady breathing, confirming that he was sleeping soundly. I squeezed my hard, aching dick through my underwear. Convincing myself that my insomnia was being caused by the fact I hadn't played with myself since leaving home, almost two weeks ago. After an internal struggle, I decided that it couldn't hurt, so gently climbed out of the sleeping bag, and made my way, silently down to where the treeline met the beach. I slid my underwear off, standing naked in the moonlight. I gripped my cock at its base and squeezed it, moaning slightly as the pressure afforded some relief. Past my fist the head of my dick grew harder, and I rolled back my foreskin. Pre-cum pooled at the head of my dick, which I quickly scooped up with my thumb and brought it to my mouth. I loved the salty taste and milked more from my dick, wondering if Aaron's would taste the same. I felt so good. My ears were trying to listen, and I stifled my moans, so Aaron wouldn't hear. I slid my hand up and down my shaft.. I thought about Aaron's ginger pubes and white dick, picturing it hard. I was leaking more and more. I thought about him grabbing me and pulling me close taking my dick in his hand as I did the same back. My breath shuddered and I leant forward, using one hand to steady myself against a tree while the other furiously beat my dick. My knees bent as I felt my balls draw tight to my body as I shot ropes of cum onto the ground.

I cleaned myself up as quickly as I could and headed back to bed. Aaron roused slightly, "You, okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. Needed a piss." I climbed into bed, and he scooted behind me, falling back to sleep. I quickly followed, feeling guilty that I'd thought of him while waking.

We had explored our new surroundings a mile or so in each direction, but there were no signs that any other survivors had made it off of the boat. We were alone on the island. We'd fallen into a daily routine starting with walks to refill our bottles at the closest spring, collecting nuts and fruits on the way. The early afternoon was used to improve and maintain the living structure, and the late afternoon and evening were reserved for swimming and goofing around.