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Martin flung himself into the waves like a puppy. He went under, but came up again after a few moments, hooting with joy. Up on the beach, Luke smiled and shook his head, laying out the picnic blanket.
The sand shone silver in the light of the full moon. The sea was dark, and Luke figured it was ice cold, too, even in a summer night. But Martin loved the sea, loved swimming, and Luke loved making Martin happy. Even if that meant visiting the beach after nightfall.
Luke started arranging the candles how he wanted them, then spent a good ten minutes lighting them because the lighter was almost out of fuel. All the while, he kept nervously glancing at the sea, but Martin was still out there, bobbing amongst the waves. Once he’d finally got the last candle lit, he knelt down on the picnic blanket and set out the food and drink — the petits fours in more varieties Luke could count on both hands, the éclairs with chocolate on them so thick it stuck to his fingers, and those tiny little cinnamon-sugar doughnuts Martin loved so much. He put out the wine and two glasses, but poured himself a cup of tea from the thermos before pulling a blanket over his shoulders and settling down to read while Martin was swimming.
He made it through the entire thermos and several chapters before movement at the water’s edge caught his eye. He looked up, one finger between the pages, and smiled when he saw Martin jog towards him across the sand.
Martin accepted the towel Luke held out for him with a breathless, “Thanks, love.” Luke watched him towel off, his elbows on his drawn-up knees. Martin rubbed the towel over his hair so it stuck up in all directions and eyed the pastries and red wine. “When you said picnic, I was picturing Tesco sandwiches and maybe a beer or two,” he remarked, pulling the towel over his shoulders.
Luke smiled up at him. “Are you complaining?”
Martin shook his head so quickly that water droplets flew from his hair. “I’m touched,” he said, ducking under the blanket next to Luke. He cocked his head. “I haven’t forgotten some anniversary, I hope?”
“Nope.” Luke kissed him on the temple, and went to pour him a glass of wine. “Just wanted a nice night out with you.”
Martin grinned. “Thank you. This is lovely.”
Martin devoured the doughnuts within minutes, and then went to town on the petits fours. They were talking, about anything that came to their minds; Luke had been toying with the idea of going back to uni and get a degree in architecture, and Martin enthusiastically encouraged him.
He was just about to launch into lengthy reminiscences about his own time at university, when suddenly, he fell silent.
“What is it?” Luke asked, a little slow after multiple glasses of wine.
“We’ve got company,” Martin replied in a low voice.
Luke lifted his head from Martin’s shoulder. Two police officers were walking up to them, a man and a woman. They looked relaxed, almost like they were out on a casual stroll, but Martin sat up anyway.
“Good evening,” he said when they reached them. He was tense. Luke didn’t know if taking his hand would help or make it worse, so he just leaned closer to him.
The male officer touched the brim of his cap. “Evening.”
“Everything all right?” asked Luke. “We can clear up.”
“No need,” said the female officer, making a placating gesture. “We were called in about an illegal campfire.” She nodded to the candles. “I suppose that clears that up.”
Luke chuckled and Martin relaxed. Not fully, but at least he smiled.
“This looks like a special night out,” remarked the male officer. “Is there an engagement or something we can congratulate you on?”
Martin smiled and waggled his ring finger. “You’d be six years too late.”
“Well, congratulations on that!” the male officer said, and laughed.
Luke smiled, and Martin chuckled politely.
With a “well, we won’t keep you” and an “enjoy your night,” the police wandered off.
“You okay?” Luke murmured into Martin’s ear when they were well and truly out of sight.
“Yes,” Martin replied, pulling the blanket closer over his and Luke’s shoulders. “Sorry. Old habits. I was eighty before they began to decriminalise us.”
“Hm.” Luke nuzzled at Martin’s hairline. He held him tighter. “No-one’s going after us,” he murmured into his ear.
Martin didn’t reply, but he leaned into Luke’s embrace.
Luke smiled, and put his head back on his shoulder. “So, what were you saying about that old lecture hall?”