[FIC] Surfing With Colin
Aug. 16th, 2006 03:32 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Though it's a short story (only 4000 words), LJ won't let me post it all at once, so part one will be posted here, and then part two is in the comments afterward.
TITLE: Surfing With Colin
IDEA BY: Anesthesiagirl
WRITTEN BY: Makingamochrie
PAIRING: Colin/Ryan
RATING: NC-17 for mansmut (no BDSM or anything like that)
DISCLAIMER: FICTION! Don't own, don't sue, don't take candy from strangers
SUMMARY: "ry/col.......at the ocean (up to you as to WHY they are there) with ryan teaching colin to body surf/boogie board.....whatever......."
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Ryan Stiles walked out of the surf looking like a bronzed god birthed by Venus herself. His sunbleached hair laying in tight ringlets against his head, he carried a bright yellow Custom X bodyboard under one arm, and had his fins—as if someone with feet his size should even need fins—hooked over two fingers of the opposite hand.
Smiling with fond exasperation, he trudged through the sand toward where Colin sat on a low-slung beach chair beneath a huge, multi-colored beach umbrella. Clad in black swimtrunks which had yet to see even a drop of seawater, he also had on a t-shirt, a towel slung over his shoulders, a ballcap on his head, a stripe of white zinc oxide on his nose, and enough sunblock to send the product’s stock prices skyrocketing. It was evidently the sun vs. Colin Mochrie, and at the moment, Colin appeared to be winning. He also appeared to be deeply engrossed in a book, and if Ryan knew his lover as well as he thought he did, it was a book that had been read a dozen times already. Ryan never understood why someone would read a book more than once, let alone dozens of times, but just chalked it up to being one of the Eternal Mysteries of Colin.
Stopping before his lover, he smirked, then shook himself like a dog. Colin slowly raised his head, staring at him through the lenses of his now spotted sunglasses. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Now that you’ve fulfilled my salt water quotient for the day, you may return to your fishy friends, Aquaman.”
“C’mon, Col!” Ryan cried, stamping his foot in the sand. “Come play with me! The water’s warm, and the waves are really moving!”
“And the second part of that is an enticement…why? Is having seashell bits permanently imbedded into various parts of my body some new kink that I’m not aware of?”
Ryan rolled his eyes. Colin could out-stubborn a mule sometimes. “Because it’s fun,” he said simply. “And because we’re on the beach. You know, sun, sand and surf? So far, you’re batting oh for three.”
Reaching down, Colin scooped up a handful of dry sand and let it drizzle through his fingers. “There. Now my batting average leads the majors.”
Ryan sighed. “Please? I want to teach you to bodyboard.”
Colin shot his gaze over to his own bodyboard, brand new, black and slowly bleaching in the sun. He hadn’t wanted the thing in the first place, but Ryan insisted, and what Ryan wanted, Ryan got. He looked back at his lover. “You know, I’d love to, but I’m right at the part where Mistress Seralena is about to get impregnated by the Evil Aliens, and I just wouldn’t want to miss it.”
“Miss what? You’ve already read the damn thing fifty times!”
“Fifty one,” Colin corrected, holding back his grin. Frustrating Ryan really was a guilty pleasure. “Besides, I keep hoping that this time she’ll finally catch a clue and realize that she’s not strapped down to the table and can easily escape by using the transporter thingie pinned to her shoulder.”
“C’mon, Col. Please? You don’t have to stay out that long, I promise. Plus, you love the water!”
“I do,” he agreed. “When it’s not full of surfer dudes with more brains below the waist than above. ‘Outta the way, Gramps!’ is not my favorite mating call.”
“Name me one time you heard that,” Ryan challenged. When Colin began to sit forward, Ryan shook his head. “Never mind. Listen, that won’t happen here. I’ve been talking to some of them, and they’re really nice.”
“Yeah, nice to you, bronzed Baywatch model who they have to block out the sun just to see. Me, on the other hand….”
“Co-lin….”
Colin cupped a hand to his ear. “Is that a seagull I hear?”
“Yeah, and he’s gonna come under that umbrella and shit on your head if you don’t come out into the water with me.”
“Well, Dr. Doolittle, be sure to let him know I have my poo-proof cap on before he does that, eh? Wouldn’t want him to waste his ammo on one as immune as I.”
“Don’t make me come in there after you.”
“Yeah,” Colin snorted, “like you could get me out of this chair and into the water. Not on your best day, Stiles, and not on my worst.”
Ryan seriously considered it for a span of perhaps ten seconds. Then gave up on the idea, knowing he’d be the one with the worse end of the deal if he even thought of attempting it. Instead, he fell back on his foolproof plan. ‘The Eyes.’
Colin just smiled pleasantly at him, drumming his long fingers on the arm of the beach chair.
So he added ‘the pout’, complete with trembling lower lip.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Then he slumped his shoulders, becoming the lost toddler looking for his mommy.
And Colin finally broke, chuckling and shaking his head. “One day, that’s not going to work on me, you know,” he said, pushing himself out of the chair and onto his feet.
“Yeah,” Ryan crowed triumphantly, “but I plan on exploiting it to its fullest until then.”
“Mm.”
“Now, take off your shirt, your glasses, and that damned cap and let’s get wet!”
“Sure you don’t want me to take off my trunks, too?”
“Well, yeah, but then we’d cause a riot, and that would be bad.”
Colin smirked. “Depends on what kind of riot we’re talking about. Are they running toward me, or away?”
Rolling his eyes, Ryan bent to pick up Colin’s board and handed it to him after his lover had sufficiently disrobed. “Here. You can use my fins, too. Makes it easier to steer.”
“I think I’ll go fin-less to start out. Wouldn’t want to make the others jealous.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“Boss, huh? I think I like that!”
“Yeah, well don’t get used to it.”
“Me? Never.”
“C’mon! Let’s go!”
And so they went.
*******
It was the time of an astronomical low tide, with about ten yards of waist deep water—warm as bathwater—before a long stretch of sandbar broke through like a second beach. Beyond that, the waves were breaking nicely perhaps fifteen or so yards out. They weren’t any higher than four or five feet, coming in at a steady three per set, which suited Colin just fine. He’d swum in rougher surf, but trying out something new was better attempted in calmer waters.
Ryan aimed them toward a relatively unpopulated area of the ocean. “Don’t get on your board till we’re out past the breakers,” he said, holding his own high over his head as they slowly approached the white water spume. “Hold on!” he cried as a wave curled toward them, already cresting white and threatening to crash down on their heads.
Taking a deep breath, Colin grabbed hard hold of his board and ducked his body deep beneath the water so as to avoid most of the crashing wave’s fury. He spun a bit, but popped up like a cork, just in time to get a face full of water from the next one in line that crashed directly atop him. Pushing hard with his strong legs, he managed to break through the curl of the third, board still in hand.
Ryan shook the water from his hair, grinning wildly at him. “Whoo! This is great, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Great.” He spit out a mouthful of seawater.
“Let’s move out just a little further, then we can hop on and paddle out.”
“I see an oil rig in the distance. Perhaps they’re serving lunch.”
That earned him a sharp glance, and he bit back a grin. It really was too easy, sometimes.
He reached for the leash and secured it around his wrist as Ryan struggled with his fins. Then he tilted the bottom of the board down and slid aboard, scootching himself forward until he was more or less centered on it and floating in the relatively calm—for now—sea. The water was warm, but not too warm this far out, and the sun beat pleasantly down on his bare back. All in all, he felt good, not that he would ever admit that to his ego-inflated partner.
“Well,” Ryan said after he copied Colin, “you got the first part down okay. Now, when the next set of waves come, try to get one that looks like it’s just starting to curl. Paddle like hell to get on the lip of the curl and hold on tight to the top of the board. You can use your arms to steer that way, or your legs, like rudders. Or both, preferably. I’ll teach you how to try and ride the face later.”
“How ‘bout I just watch you do it first, just to get the idea.”
It wasn’t as if he was stupid. And he’d bodysurfed all of his life. But watching Ryan from the back was, as always, too good of an opportunity to let pass. That bronzed back and shoulders, oiled, gleaming with water, muscles pumping as he moved, that fine behind working with the effort….
Ryan gave him a grin that told him his thoughts were being read, right down to the commas and the periods. He shrugged, completely unembarrassed. The truth was the truth, after all.
“Here they come!”
Colin angled his board so that it wouldn’t inadvertently catch the wave while Ryan kept his perpendicular to the shoreline and paddled like his ass was on fire. Sure enough, he caught the wave perfectly, rising up to the top of the curl and staying atop it for quite awhile until it broke in front of him and he crashed down with it, riding the fast rushing water all the way to the sandbar.
Then he jumped up and pumped the board high overhead. Colin thought he could hear the triumphant crow from where he was.
“Nice one!” Colin complimented when Ryan finally made it back out to him.
“I caught the lip too late, but damn, that was fun. Your turn!” He came over and held onto Colin’s board to steady it before the next set arrived. Then, without bothering to look around, gave him a nice, slow, warm kiss that Colin felt throughout his entire body.
“Isn’t my fin supposed to be on the bottom of the board?” he quipped.
Ryan leered. “It’s a special inflatable fin,” he replied, smug as smug could be. “Custom made.”
“I see.”
“Ready? Here they come!”
They let the first one pass, but the second seemed perfect. “Ready? Paddle, Colin, paddle!”
And so he paddled, and somehow, with the water both sucking him back and pushing him forward, managed not only to crest the lip, but go through it and thus found himself on a curling face. Instinctively turning his board to the right, he tried to steer along the collapsing face, and managed a whole three feet before the whole thing caved in on him and he went flying, his board one way, his body another.
He hit the water hard and got churned under by the crashing wave, hitting the bottom and bouncing several times—and adding a ton or so of sand to his trunks in the process—before righting himself, or so he hoped, and pushing back toward the surface.
When he breached, Ryan was right there, a look of fear and horror on his face. “Jesus Christ, Col, are you okay?” His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, reaching out and touching his lover, as if to reassure himself that he was, indeed, still in one piece. “You’re not bleeding anywhere, are you?”
Colin, meanwhile, was choking up seemingly the entire ocean. He felt Ryan’s strong arm go around his hips, dragging him back toward the dry sandbar, and he collapsed there, choking and panting and wiping the stinging water from his eyes. “I’m fine,” he finally managed to gasp. “Just hemmed when I should have hawed, but I’m fine. Really.”
Ryan was deathly pale beneath his tan. “I’m so sorry, Col. I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t—.”
“Enough,” Colin replied. “I’ve been dumped under worse waves than this and managed to survive just fine. Just let me get my breath back and we’ll go out again.”
“Maybe we should…..”
“No. Look in the encyclopedia under ‘Horses, getting back on’. Besides, I need to rinse these trunks out. I’ve got sand in places no sand should ever be. If I wait much longer, I’ll be growing a pearl.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Colin said firmly as he regained his feet. He didn’t hurt anywhere, which was good. “I’m going back out. You coming with me?”
Ryan climbed back to his feet with a good deal less assurance, his eyes still dark with concern.
Shaking his head, Colin grabbed his board and raced back into the water, calling, “Last one past the breakers is a rotten egg!”
Which turned out to be Ryan, flippers and all.
*******
Part 2 of 2 is in the comments below.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-16 07:46 pm (UTC)“Ok, but why would I be blowing anything on the couch?”
“Well you can’t very well stay in the bed with me. I mean, after all, what if I roll over and accidentally spank you like a girl?”
Ryan swooped in for a hug, which Colin easily sidestepped, and stood there, staring at him, hands on hips.
“Is it too late to say ‘I’m sorry’?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe,” Colin allowed. “But not to say ‘I love you’.”
“I love you,” Ryan replied. “That was easy.”
“The truth always is.” Colin smirked.
“Does that mean I don’t have to sleep on the couch?”
Colin scratched at his chin. “Hm. I’ll have to think about that one.”
Ryan immediately dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around Colin’s leg. “Please!” he cried. “Please don’t make me sleep on that lumpy old couch all alone! It’s cold out there! And dark! And…and…lumpy!”
“Man,” Colin replied, “you really should try out for a soap opera. You’d win an award for sure.”
Ryan snickered. “So? Can I sleep with you? Please, please, please?”
“Oh, alright,” Colin sighed, sounding as if the prospect was the worst thing he could possibly imagine.
“And will you teach me the Mochrie Method?”
“I suppose.”
Ryan jumped to his feet, grinning. “Goody!”
“We’ll start lesson one right now.”
“Now? But, Col…there’s no water.”
Colin slanted a grin at him. “Then we’ll just have to improvise, won’t we.” He chuckled. “Take off your clothes.”
“Ooh, I’m liking this improvising stuff already!” Within a minute and a half, he was naked as the day he was born. “Is this the way you teach all your students?”
“Ah, no. You’re the first to be learning by this particular route.”
Ryan puffed his chest out, only to double over when he got a backhand to the belly. “Oof!”
“Sucker.” Colin took slightly longer in disrobing, but finally he was done, and after allowing his lover a good long look, stripped down the covers, crawled into the bed, and lay down on his belly. Making full use of his so-called boneless body, he then mimed a ripple in the ocean, slowly arching his body from his head to his toes and back again.
Ryan, who was already half-erect by the prospect of things to come was at full staff by the end of that particular maneuver. “Do that again,” he husked.
Colin complied.
“Fuck the ocean. I’ll go swimming in you any day.”
“Well, then, climb aboard.”
And Ryan did, with alacrity, laying his long, thin body along the dips and curves of the trim one beneath and snuggling in.
“Hmm,” Colin commented, “I see mine isn’t the only board with an inflatable fin.”
Ryan laughed softly. “I said custom made. I didn’t say unique. You didn’t think yours was the only one, did you?”
“I had hopes.”
“I don’t think you’ll mind too much when you see what this baby can do.”
“I’m counting on it.” Though it was more difficult with the weight atop him, Colin managed to do ‘the ripple thing’ again, and Ryan groaned.
“Man, that’s nice!”
“Glad you’re enjoying.” He thought for a moment. “Oh….before we progress to step two, I think you’d better wax your fin. It’ll make it easier to cut through the water.”
Ryan laughed aloud. “You’re getting better at the innuendo thing! I’m impressed!”
“I picked it up by osmosis,” Colin replied dryly. “Now get waxing. The tide’s coming in.”
Still laughing, Ryan slipped off of his lover and reached for the bottle of lube on the nightstand. Within moments, his ‘fin’ was completely waxed and ready for action. Begging for it, if the truth be known. Then he climbed back aboard. “Your willing student is ready, oh great teacher.”
“Alright. Step two. Paddle. Not spank. Paddle.”
******
DOUBLE DAMN! Ok, the last part (REALLY!) is in the comments AFTER THIS!