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“Remember last time? You almost made me take you to the emergency room. You spent three hours on WebMD. I timed it.” Matt was slathering himself in the almost certainly expired SPF 70 he had found buried under a pile of empty cans of shaving cream.
Jay cringed. “Yeah, but- we’re gonna be in the water. It’s like a buffer, right?”
It was a shock that Lake Ontario wasn’t evaporating before their eyes. Matt felt like an ant under a magnifying glass. Maybe that American guy with that documentary was onto something, global warming or whatever. The AC at the apartment was busted and every public place with cool air was packed so tight that sheer body heat raised the indoor temperatures back to what they were outside. Anyway, they hadn’t been swimming in a while, and pollution was good for strengthening the immune system. Excessive radiation, on the other hand…
“I don’t want to find a giant skin husk when you manage to peel off your charred outer layer.” Matt tossed Jay the bottle.
“Fine.”
Jay squirted a bit of sunscreen into his gangly piano hands and rubbed a few pathetic patches down his arms.
“There.” He pouted and raised his eyebrows. The pale expanse of his shirtless chest was just begging to be painted bright pink.
“Seriously man, are you six? Are you six years old?” Matt grabbed the bottle from him and took matters into his own hands.
Jay yelped at the cold lotion slapping against his skin. “Matt! Get the fuck away from me!” A young couple herding toddlers glanced in their direction. An old man peeked up from the giant hole he was digging. Nothing out of the ordinary for the grimy public beaches of Toronto.
“Hell’s itch, heard of it?” Matt wrestled Jay into place. “Am I gonna have to sedate you? Wrap some benzos in ham?”
Jay tore himself away. “Here, just,” he rubbed his hands over his face. Sweat was dripping from his temple. “Don’t attack me with it, okay?” He turned, back facing Matt.
Jackpot. Matt grinned as Jay tensed under his touch. He was absolutely the type of person who didn’t get hugged enough as a kid, always flinching away from affection, kicking and punching whenever Matt got close. Even ruffling his hair was met with juvenile frustration. So this particular opportunity, for Matt, was a rare treat.
“Hurry up already. You’re not a masseuse.” Jay said. His arms were crossed over his chest. Matt figured he’d only get to do the hard to reach spots before Jay insisted on taking over.
“What, would you rather I get a girl to do this?” Matt rubbed the sunscreen across Jay’s shoulders, down the embarrassed hunch of his spine. “Want me to call your mom? I can ask one of these poor, struggling mothers if they wouldn’t mind lathering you up. Or are you too worried about popping a boner in a public place? How Oedipal!”
“Matt, shut up.”
Matt snapped the elastic of Jay’s swim trunks.
Jay whipped around and shoved him. “What the hell!”
Worth it. Matt threw the bottle of sunscreen. It hit Jay in the chest before he fumbled to catch it. Insult and injury, a beautiful combination. He shot off towards the water, leaving Jay in his dust. “You better finish up, bird,” Matt called from the shallows, “I think I smell rotisserie chicken!”