Phil ambled through the narrow streets of the small village. At this time of the year he liked to be comparatively near to where his family had their original home and Litochoro was as good as any of the similar villages in the vicinity.
"Hey, Phil."
He turned at the shout and returned the wave from a young man. He had already been there several days and had made a couple of casual friends to sit, talk and drink with. He would stay there a few days more and then move on, just like always.
He glanced up at the clear sky and bright sun. It was unseasonably warm. Although he had a jacket in case it turned cold, he was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Most of the young people were similarly clad, taking advantage of the warm snap. He smiled at the way the older generation kept their normal layers on, unimpressed by the temperate spell.
The sound of a motorbike's rumble caught his attention as a Harley Davidson hog pulled up alongside him. He tried not to overtly ogle its rider. The male was sex-on-wheels. A broad-chested torso was emphasised by a tight, white vest. Dark chest fur peered alluringly over its rounded neckline. Over that he wore a black leather vest which was fastened with three chains. Well-worn jeans were covered by assless, black leather chaps and large, solid biker's boots completed the ensemble. Next to this impressive male, Phil felt quite boyish.
"Hey, so who are you today?"
Phil grinned at the question. As the rider pulled off his helmet, raven-hued hair fell to his shoulders and his smile glinted, dark and feral, framed by his goatee.
"Philander, you?" he countered, grinning back.
"Viggo," came the reply and both men laughed. Phil ran a hand through his thick, golden-brown hair, his dark eyes, so similar to Viggo's, danced with the same amusement he could see in the biker's. This had become a ritual whenever they met. The easy camaraderie warmed his heart.
"Nice weather," Viggo continued, leaning back and squinting up at an almost cloudless, blue sky.
"Too nice for this time of year," Phil replied.
"Don't knock it, just take advantage when you can," Viggo said, his eyes raking over Phil's slender form. Phil was just a couple of inches shorter than his own just over six-foot frame, but the slighter body always made the difference seem so much more. He stretched, confident in his own raw masculinity, knowing that several sets of eyes were riveted by the movement. "Be honest, are you busy right now?" he queried.
Phil cocked his head to the left as he regarded Viggo levelly, considering his reply. Giving a smile he shook his head.
"No," he said honestly. "I'm not."
"Good," Viggo grinned.
Phil watched as the bigger man eased sinuously off the bike and went to one of the storage boxes. Phil admired Viggo's bikes, although he had never wanted to have one of his own. This one had red bodywork, the steel gleamed cleanly and the customised golden handlebars glinted brightly in the sunlight. Reacting instinctively, he caught the helmet tossed over to him and stared at it.
"You mean...?"
"Put it on and join me," Viggo said slowly as if talking to a small child. He laughed at the scowl on Phil's smooth-skinned face. He gave a victorious grin as the younger man slid the helmet into place. "You'll need your jacket, too," he added.
Staring at the small space in which he had to sit, Phil suddenly realised how close he and Viggo would be. Certain parts of him cheered at this revelation, however, common sense dictated he subdue any such wayward libido. Viggo was not a man to mess with and that kind of thought was ridiculous. He eased carefully behind the bigger man.
"Hold my waist," Viggo directed. "You're not used to this and it'll be safer. When it gets a little rougher just slide your arms round tighter and lean into me. I'm a good rider. I'll keep you safe."
"Thanks," Phil said. He was touched the other man was being so considerate. He liked Viggo's company although the other man could be dark and melancholy on occasion. However, at the moment, it was Phil who had been somewhat down and Viggo was already making him feel much better.
****
The ride was exhilarating. Viggo eased them through the village and onto the open road, opening up the throttle to let Phil experience the speed and power of the machine. Then he turned off onto a less frequented road and finally onto what seemed little more than a footpath through some dense pine forest. Phil held tightly around Viggo's trim waist, leaning against his back as the older man negotiated the rough terrain with practised ease.
Finally Viggo slowed to a stop and Phil gingerly got off. His legs were a little shaky from the ride and he expected some ribbing from the bigger man, but Viggo just gave a smile.
"Stiff?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"A little," Phil admitted. Certain parts that he was still trying to will into quiescence throbbed dangerously at the single word and Phil was grateful that Viggo was opening his other box and tugging out a backpack.
"This way," Viggo said, marching forward.
Phil dutifully followed. After a minute or two he gave a gasp at the sight of the small pool that Viggo was leading him towards. The clearing was a perfect sun-trap, Phil noticing the increase in warmth as even the light wind vanished. It was quiet, serene and Phil felt the residue of tension leave his body.
"It's beautiful," he enthused.
"Very beautiful," Viggo replied. However, the bigger man's dark eyes were not on the pool, as Phil's were. Instead they were focused on the younger man himself.
Entranced with the pool, Phil failed to notice Viggo's predatory stare at him and it took another moment for him to realise Viggo was stripping. He started as he found himself staring at Viggo's naked ass as the older man shoved his jeans down to his ankles. As deft fingers rapidly untied boots, Phil turned away and began to undress himself. He did not need to be asked. The pool silently begged to be swum in.
It took seconds to yank off his jacket, t-shirt and jeans. His briefs and socks joined the small pile and then he eyed up the best spot to get into the water. Not sure of its depth, he had no intention of diving or jumping.
As soon as he was naked, Viggo had angled himself to unobtrusively watch Phil. The younger man's smooth, golden skin seemed to glow in the sunlight. His own furred skin was darker in hue. Viggo licked his lips. Phil was beautiful. It was a word Viggo had used carelessly many times in his varied past, but it was true of the youth before him. He let his eyes caress the naked form and then purposefully moved to where he knew he could dive in.
