Seldom Second Chances (9a/13)
Nov. 20th, 2014 12:36 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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wl_fanfictionTitle: Seldom Second Chances
Author: Clay
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: When a freak accident drops an impossible opportunity in Ryan's lap, it's up to him to decide whether to squander it, or to change his fate by going after the one thing he's always wanted.
Word Count: ~3300
Prompt & Author's Notes: Again, for the Thon Prompt 33: Strangled by the red string. As always, betaed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
asuka14.
Chapter 9a
They took the next exit off the 101 and ended up at a confusing circle-style intersection. Colin went around a full circuit, then picked a random exit, crossing under the highway onto Cacique Street solely because he found the name amusing. Luckily, his intuition seemed to be spot on because they immediately found a gas station, where they stopped to take a piss, refuel and get directions.
It turned out they'd found themselves in Santa Barbara and only about a mile away from the Visitor's Center, so when they'd finished their business, they hopped back in the car and made the short drive to a tiny little blink-and-you-'ll-miss-it building done up in white stone with a burnished red adobo roof. It was just off the ocean and surrounded by a veritable forest of palm trees, the absolute picture of southern California.
But as picturesque as it was, it only made Ryan miss Washington that much more.
They parked in the small adjacent lot and went inside, where there were two state workers behind a long counter that was heavily laden with a variety of business cards and flyers. Down at one end an overly enthusiastic young man was helping an older couple with what sounded like discount zoo passes, but it was the equally as chipper woman who greeted them.
“Come on over, sweetheart!” she chirped. “Don’t be shy!”
With a startled laugh, Ryan shared an amused look with Colin before turning back to her. “We’re just looking around,” he told her.
“Well I’ll be right here if you need anything!”
Chuckling under his breath, Ryan turned and followed Colin, who was crossing the room toward the far wall. White wicker chairs and potted ferns framed an enormous wooden display rack. It was as tall as Ryan, and he guessed it had to be just as long, too. It sat in the center of the wall, filled to bursting with at least a hundred brochures for different attractions. The range of interests varied almost as widely as the locales, with Ryan spotting brochures for Alcatraz alongside Bear Mountain ski resorts, various Napa Valley vineyards, and even one that just proclaimed MEXICO in vibrant capital letters. It took the two of them a few minutes before they finally found the section touting local attractions.
Immediately Colin grabbed for a silver brochure with the word Eagle across the top, the word itself anthropomorphized to look like the animal it described. Curious, Ryan reached for the same one, but he was immediately brought up short by the image that had been hidden behind the rack’s wooden pocket.
Only after Ryan saw the smiling man wearing a parachute did his eyes skip back up to see the full title: Eagle Paragliding. A shiver ran down his spine at the idea of hovering hundreds of feet in the air with little to no control, the only thing staving off death a thin bit of fabric attached to a flimsy harness by the skinniest strings he’d ever seen in his life.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, quickly shoving the brochure back into the rack.
Colin stopped reading and looked up, frowning. “What?”
“We’re not doing that.”
“Oh.” Colin looked down at the brochure again. Ryan couldn’t help but think he sounded disappointed, but a moment later he recovered, shrugging as he too returned his brochure. “Oh no, I wasn’t really considering it or anything. It just looked interesting. And, well…we were talking about freedom. Flying seems like the ultimate freedom.”
Ryan snorted. “I would say a divorce is the ultimate freedom.”
Colin frowned again, but he didn’t answer.
A moment more of scanning the racks had Ryan’s eyes falling on something much more his style. He grinned widely as he reached for the vibrant green brochure. “You want to talk about freedom,” he said, slipping it from the rack before shoving it under Colin’s nose. “This is what we should do.”
The brochure simply read Cachuma Lake in a bold, dark green sans serif font over a lighter green backdrop. The subtitle of Camping, Fishing, Hiking, and More! was illustrated by a smattering of photos beneath: a father and son sitting in a boat on the lake, a couple on a hike, a family around a campfire, and another in front of an RV. Ryan wasn’t sure which represented camping and which was “and more!” but since the whole thing looked like it had been done by the boss’s “very talented” kid, he wasn’t surprised.
“Out in the woods with nothing but your wits and a knife,” he said as Colin opened the brochure and started to read, “What’s more freeing than that?”
Colin raised his eyebrows, his eyes still locked on the brochure, but he didn’t say a word. Ryan could see he needed convincing.
“Imagine it!” he cried. He pulled Colin close and swept an arm out grandiosely. “It’s early morning. The sun is just starting to come up over the horizon. Can you see it?”
He looked to Colin eagerly, but Colin—still intent on keeping his silence—just gave him a placating smile.
“Come on, try!” Ryan turned back to his illusion. “You’re on a boat on the lake. Just you, a six pack of Molson, and your rod.”
Colin snorted, and Ryan threw him another look. “Not that rod.
“And there’s no sound except the wind through the trees, the water against the side of the boat, and the chirping of the crickets…” He smiled to himself. “No wife. No kids. No cameras. No judgment. Just you and nature.” He pulled away to face Colin fully again. “Seriously, how freeing is that?”
Colin was still aiming a wavering smile his way. “Well, it’s…it’s something all right.”
“It doesn’t sound nice?”
“No, it sounds nice,” Colin assented. “I just don’t know if I would call sitting on a boat for hours freedom.”
“That’s because you haven’t tried it,” Ryan replied. He turned and looked over at the woman behind the counter, who was still watching them with her beaming smile.
“Hey!” he called to her, grinning right back at her. “I think we need help now.”
The woman was more than eager to assist them with making reservations at the campground, as well as giving them directions and locating stores along the way where they could pick up bedding, beer, and other supplies. In short order they were on the road again, and after a couple stops, they headed north, just outside of the city where the lake lay in the foothills of the Santa Ynez Mountains.
They arrived at the campgrounds, and Ryan took it upon himself to handle the payment and subsequently obtain their fishing license for the duration of their stay. The man made lake was periodically stocked with rainbow trout, and Ryan was convinced they would be eating fresh fish cooked over a fire that evening. License in hand, he returned to the car so they could finally make their way to the cabin, only to find Colin leaning back against the hood of the car, his eyes locked on the lake.
The water shimmered in the afternoon sun, standing out in stark contrast to a backdrop of lush, dark trees. Further in the distance snow capped mountain peaks reached up toward a cerulean sky. Ryan took a moment to savor it, himself.
“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?” he asked quietly.
Colin smiled. “I’m warming up to it,” he acquiesced. He shoved off the hood, then nodded toward the car, obviously ready to move on.
“I still think we should have gotten a yurt,” Ryan said when they were back inside the car and on their way to their final destination.
“And I still think running water trumps a lake view,” Colin argued.
Ryan laughed. “Not a fan of roughing it?”
“Maybe I’m just not a fan of public toilets and pay showers.”
“Touché.”
And Ryan had to admit, when they finally stepped foot inside the cabin, that Colin had the right idea. As much as he wanted to get back to nature, he sure wouldn’t mind following that up by kicking back on the futon and watching the Canucks with a cold beer from the fridge.
And of course the private bathroom was a nice bonus.
He was eager to get out onto the lake, but the fishing would be better closer to dusk, and besides, Colin looked about ready to pass out, so they cooked up a little pasta they’d gotten on the way over and lunched while flipping through television channels. They still had a couple hours to kill, so Colin napped on the queen bed in the back room, while Ryan turned the TV to ESPN and dozed on the futon.
They awoke refreshed and somewhat restless after a long day of doing nothing. They were both ready to get out into the open air, and soon Ryan had their gear loaded into the small boat they’d reserved with the cabin, and they were headed out into the water.
Colin took up the oars as Ryan strung and weighted the lines on their new poles. They didn't say much as they glided across the smooth surface of the lake save Ryan directing Colin on where he wanted to go, and Ryan took the time to look around as they moved away from the shore. He imagined that this park was packed on the weekend, but considering it was mid week, they practically had the place to themselves, with most of the other vacationers on land, and those in the water few and far between. They found a nice, semi-private spot near the far side of the lake, and Ryan finished with the line while Colin laid back, his eyes closed against the waning sun. They could hear the distant chatter of other campers, and a cool wind rustled the tree line.
When he was done, Ryan cleared his throat and offered one of the lines. Colin opened his eyes and gave Ryan a content smile.
Ryan smiled back. “You like it, don’t you?”
“Hm?”
“This place. You like it here.”
Colin gave an affirming shrug as he reached for the pole. “It was a good idea.”
“See?”
“Yeah, well, with all of the craziness going on...” He gave Ryan a pointed look. “...I think we needed some peace and quiet.”
“Exactly my point. This beats that parachuting thing any day.”
Colin pursed his lips at that, obviously having his own thoughts on the matter, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he lowered his eyes to study the pole.
Ryan shrugged him off, not wanting anything to broach the subject for fear of ruining the moment. He baited his hook, and he was about to cast when he realized Colin hadn’t moved.
“You have done this before, haven’t you?” Ryan said.
“Not since I was a kid,” Colin admitted. He looked up sheepishly, shrugging again. “Maybe I’ll just rest while you do the fishing.”
“I don’t think so,” Ryan argued. He lay his pole aside and motioned for Colin to come closer. “Let me show you.”
Taking Colin’s pole, he showed him how to bait it with a worm they’d gotten when they’d purchased the rest of the equipment, jabbing it onto the hook in three separate locations to assure it wouldn't wriggle free in the water. When that was complete, he passed the pole back, then he slid forward, looping his arms around Colin’s shoulders .
“All right,” he said, pressing his cheek to Colin’s as he fit their bodies together so he could show him how to cast. “You ever skipped stones?”
“Uh…not since...”
“Okay, never mind. But you've played baseball, right? Well when you throw the line out, you want to swing your arm to the side like that. Not over your head. First, bring the rod to your side.” He laid a hand on top of Colin’s and guided it to his right. “Push the button on the reel, swing your arm out in front of you, then release it.” He showed Colin the motion a couple times, then backed off a bit, letting him try it himself.
The first time he released too soon, and the second too late. Both times the line barely moved, and Ryan told him to reel it in and try it again. On the third time, Colin hit it at just the right moment, and the line sailed out in front of them before plunking into the water about 20 feet away.
“Perfect,” Ryan whispered, smiling as he unconsciously wound his arms back around Colin. He replaced his hand on Colin’s, ready to show him how to reel it in once he got a bite.
“And now what?”
“Now we wait.”
Colin nodded, the fringe of hair along his temples tickling Ryan’s cheek. Ryan suppressed a shiver and tucked Colin a little tighter against his chest.
They were silent for a few minutes as they waited for something to happen. Ryan knew he should pull away, but the feel of Colin in his arms was too good to let go. The boat rocked slightly under the occasional wave, but for the most part, the lake was calm. Ryan could hear birds calling back and forth in the nearby trees, and the wind carried with it a hint of the evergreens that surrounded them: both fresh, and yet pungent with the scent of pine and damp earth.
Ryan closed his eyes, tilting his face toward the breeze. Colin’s chest moved against his with every breath, and soon he realized he’d synced their breathing, in and out. In and out. He could stay like this forever.
Or he could do something more.
In his mind’s eye, Ryan could see himself drawing back just slightly. He could envision the way Colin would look at him curiously, how he would cup one hand over Colin’s cheek, and their eyes would slip closed as he brought their lips—
“How—” Colin said suddenly, and Ryan opened his eyes, startled. Colin’s voice was low and rough, and he cleared his throat and tried again. “How do we even know we’re going to catch anything?” He was nearly whispering, but they were pressed so close together that Ryan could hear him clearly.
“We don’t,” Ryan replied, whispering back. “But places like this where they stock the fish are a good bet.
“And this is a good spot,” he continued. He finally forced himself to pull back, then took a deep breath to steady himself. He motioned toward the bank only a half a dozen yards away and then returned his hand to its place over Colin’s, but he made sure to keep some space between them. “See, the fish spend most of the day in the deeper water, but they come up to the shallows to feed, so we’re right in their path.”
“Oh,” Colin said. “Okay.”
Ryan nodded.
When they fell silent this time, it felt different. Ryan tried to think of something to say, but “Nice weather today, huh?” seemed a little desperate, even for him. He was almost certain that Colin had been able to read his thoughts, or maybe it had been the extended hug that had clued him in. Either way the tension in the air was palpable, and Ryan was certain that Colin wanted nothing more than to be off this boat and away from him.
He was just about to suggest they go back when Colin let out a sudden exclamation.
He turned to Ryan with wide eyes. “I think I got something!”
“What?” Ryan looked at the jerking rod. “Oh!”
Without thinking, he fit himself against Colin once more and began barking orders. “Pull up! You want to hook it! Not too hard!” He tried his best to guide Colin’s actions without hindering him, and eventually pulled back, seeing how well Colin could do on his own. “Got it? Now reel it in. Slowly!” He put a hand on Colin’s back, leaning forward to watch the water. “Give it a little tug, then reel. Tug, then reel. Don't let the line go slack.”
“I can see it!”
Ryan could, too. It was a gorgeous trout, thrashing just below the surface of the water. “Bring it home!” he cried, grinning from ear to ear as Colin gave the pole one final tug, and the fish popped free with a splash.
Ryan let out a triumphant cry while Colin stared at the fish twisting and thrashing in the air. Hurriedly, Ryan grabbed a net, scooping up the fish so they could detach the hook. It was a respectable two feet long and strong to boot, and they laughed and panted as they wrestled it into a waiting cooler. Ryan let out a long breath as he closed the lid on it. He could feel the heat of exertion in his cheeks. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up to see a bright eyed, flushed Colin beaming at him.
Ryan laughed and reached over to clasp him warmly by the shoulder. “You were great!”
“I was a mess!” Colin argued. “I can’t believe I actually caught that!” He laughed, shaking his head, and it was impossible to deny the sheer joy in his face.
“I can,” Ryan said. Colin gave another breathy laugh. The pink was fading from his cheeks, but Ryan was sure the adrenaline was still singing in his veins. Offering the rod, he asked, “Want to go again?”
“No!” Colin lifted his hands in surrender, scooting back. “One is enough for me!” He put a hand over his chest. “Anymore of that, and I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”
“It’s the best part!”
Colin chuckled, then let out a long breath, finally seeming to come down from the high. “Seriously, Ry, you go ahead. I think I’m good watching now.”
A few more minutes of prodding followed, but in the end, Ryan agreed that Colin had earned his supper, and he let Colin relax as he settled down to do his own share of fishing.
They stayed out there for another hour and a half, and in that time, Ryan managed to get a small mouthed bass, and another trout, but neither were quite as impressive as Colin’s catch. It was a fact that Colin seemed to take pride in, reminding Ryan a number of times throughout the evening. The teasing finally ended when Ryan convinced Colin to take his rod up again. He’d been lounging in the light of the setting sun, just chatting or dozing as Ryan fished, but each catch lit up Colin’s eyes, and eventually the right words from Ryan had them fishing side by side.
Colin’s was the last catch of the evening. Ryan watched fondly as Colin reeled it in himself, only giving the occasional bit of advice from the sidelines. It was a fierce battle, and Colin was visibly sweating after nearly 10 minutes of back and forth. Finally, he yanked back on the rod, and the fish flew up into the air and landed in the bottom of the boat, right between them.
There, flopping weakly, was a young bluegill that couldn’t have been bigger than 4 inches. Ryan took one look at it and burst out laughing.
“He's small, but he's strong,” Colin pointed out, pouting, as Ryan unhooked the fish and let it go, still chuckling.
Ryan pat him on the back. “Of course he was. Now what do you say we head back and gut these bad boys?”
The horrified look on Colin’s face had Ryan bursting out laughing again as he picked up the oars and began to row them back to shore.
To be continued...
Author: Clay
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: When a freak accident drops an impossible opportunity in Ryan's lap, it's up to him to decide whether to squander it, or to change his fate by going after the one thing he's always wanted.
Word Count: ~3300
Prompt & Author's Notes: Again, for the Thon Prompt 33: Strangled by the red string. As always, betaed by
asuka14.Chapter 9a
They took the next exit off the 101 and ended up at a confusing circle-style intersection. Colin went around a full circuit, then picked a random exit, crossing under the highway onto Cacique Street solely because he found the name amusing. Luckily, his intuition seemed to be spot on because they immediately found a gas station, where they stopped to take a piss, refuel and get directions.
It turned out they'd found themselves in Santa Barbara and only about a mile away from the Visitor's Center, so when they'd finished their business, they hopped back in the car and made the short drive to a tiny little blink-and-you-'ll-miss-it building done up in white stone with a burnished red adobo roof. It was just off the ocean and surrounded by a veritable forest of palm trees, the absolute picture of southern California.
But as picturesque as it was, it only made Ryan miss Washington that much more.
They parked in the small adjacent lot and went inside, where there were two state workers behind a long counter that was heavily laden with a variety of business cards and flyers. Down at one end an overly enthusiastic young man was helping an older couple with what sounded like discount zoo passes, but it was the equally as chipper woman who greeted them.
“Come on over, sweetheart!” she chirped. “Don’t be shy!”
With a startled laugh, Ryan shared an amused look with Colin before turning back to her. “We’re just looking around,” he told her.
“Well I’ll be right here if you need anything!”
Chuckling under his breath, Ryan turned and followed Colin, who was crossing the room toward the far wall. White wicker chairs and potted ferns framed an enormous wooden display rack. It was as tall as Ryan, and he guessed it had to be just as long, too. It sat in the center of the wall, filled to bursting with at least a hundred brochures for different attractions. The range of interests varied almost as widely as the locales, with Ryan spotting brochures for Alcatraz alongside Bear Mountain ski resorts, various Napa Valley vineyards, and even one that just proclaimed MEXICO in vibrant capital letters. It took the two of them a few minutes before they finally found the section touting local attractions.
Immediately Colin grabbed for a silver brochure with the word Eagle across the top, the word itself anthropomorphized to look like the animal it described. Curious, Ryan reached for the same one, but he was immediately brought up short by the image that had been hidden behind the rack’s wooden pocket.
Only after Ryan saw the smiling man wearing a parachute did his eyes skip back up to see the full title: Eagle Paragliding. A shiver ran down his spine at the idea of hovering hundreds of feet in the air with little to no control, the only thing staving off death a thin bit of fabric attached to a flimsy harness by the skinniest strings he’d ever seen in his life.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said, quickly shoving the brochure back into the rack.
Colin stopped reading and looked up, frowning. “What?”
“We’re not doing that.”
“Oh.” Colin looked down at the brochure again. Ryan couldn’t help but think he sounded disappointed, but a moment later he recovered, shrugging as he too returned his brochure. “Oh no, I wasn’t really considering it or anything. It just looked interesting. And, well…we were talking about freedom. Flying seems like the ultimate freedom.”
Ryan snorted. “I would say a divorce is the ultimate freedom.”
Colin frowned again, but he didn’t answer.
A moment more of scanning the racks had Ryan’s eyes falling on something much more his style. He grinned widely as he reached for the vibrant green brochure. “You want to talk about freedom,” he said, slipping it from the rack before shoving it under Colin’s nose. “This is what we should do.”
The brochure simply read Cachuma Lake in a bold, dark green sans serif font over a lighter green backdrop. The subtitle of Camping, Fishing, Hiking, and More! was illustrated by a smattering of photos beneath: a father and son sitting in a boat on the lake, a couple on a hike, a family around a campfire, and another in front of an RV. Ryan wasn’t sure which represented camping and which was “and more!” but since the whole thing looked like it had been done by the boss’s “very talented” kid, he wasn’t surprised.
“Out in the woods with nothing but your wits and a knife,” he said as Colin opened the brochure and started to read, “What’s more freeing than that?”
Colin raised his eyebrows, his eyes still locked on the brochure, but he didn’t say a word. Ryan could see he needed convincing.
“Imagine it!” he cried. He pulled Colin close and swept an arm out grandiosely. “It’s early morning. The sun is just starting to come up over the horizon. Can you see it?”
He looked to Colin eagerly, but Colin—still intent on keeping his silence—just gave him a placating smile.
“Come on, try!” Ryan turned back to his illusion. “You’re on a boat on the lake. Just you, a six pack of Molson, and your rod.”
Colin snorted, and Ryan threw him another look. “Not that rod.
“And there’s no sound except the wind through the trees, the water against the side of the boat, and the chirping of the crickets…” He smiled to himself. “No wife. No kids. No cameras. No judgment. Just you and nature.” He pulled away to face Colin fully again. “Seriously, how freeing is that?”
Colin was still aiming a wavering smile his way. “Well, it’s…it’s something all right.”
“It doesn’t sound nice?”
“No, it sounds nice,” Colin assented. “I just don’t know if I would call sitting on a boat for hours freedom.”
“That’s because you haven’t tried it,” Ryan replied. He turned and looked over at the woman behind the counter, who was still watching them with her beaming smile.
“Hey!” he called to her, grinning right back at her. “I think we need help now.”
The woman was more than eager to assist them with making reservations at the campground, as well as giving them directions and locating stores along the way where they could pick up bedding, beer, and other supplies. In short order they were on the road again, and after a couple stops, they headed north, just outside of the city where the lake lay in the foothills of the Santa Ynez Mountains.
They arrived at the campgrounds, and Ryan took it upon himself to handle the payment and subsequently obtain their fishing license for the duration of their stay. The man made lake was periodically stocked with rainbow trout, and Ryan was convinced they would be eating fresh fish cooked over a fire that evening. License in hand, he returned to the car so they could finally make their way to the cabin, only to find Colin leaning back against the hood of the car, his eyes locked on the lake.
The water shimmered in the afternoon sun, standing out in stark contrast to a backdrop of lush, dark trees. Further in the distance snow capped mountain peaks reached up toward a cerulean sky. Ryan took a moment to savor it, himself.
“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?” he asked quietly.
Colin smiled. “I’m warming up to it,” he acquiesced. He shoved off the hood, then nodded toward the car, obviously ready to move on.
“I still think we should have gotten a yurt,” Ryan said when they were back inside the car and on their way to their final destination.
“And I still think running water trumps a lake view,” Colin argued.
Ryan laughed. “Not a fan of roughing it?”
“Maybe I’m just not a fan of public toilets and pay showers.”
“Touché.”
And Ryan had to admit, when they finally stepped foot inside the cabin, that Colin had the right idea. As much as he wanted to get back to nature, he sure wouldn’t mind following that up by kicking back on the futon and watching the Canucks with a cold beer from the fridge.
And of course the private bathroom was a nice bonus.
He was eager to get out onto the lake, but the fishing would be better closer to dusk, and besides, Colin looked about ready to pass out, so they cooked up a little pasta they’d gotten on the way over and lunched while flipping through television channels. They still had a couple hours to kill, so Colin napped on the queen bed in the back room, while Ryan turned the TV to ESPN and dozed on the futon.
They awoke refreshed and somewhat restless after a long day of doing nothing. They were both ready to get out into the open air, and soon Ryan had their gear loaded into the small boat they’d reserved with the cabin, and they were headed out into the water.
Colin took up the oars as Ryan strung and weighted the lines on their new poles. They didn't say much as they glided across the smooth surface of the lake save Ryan directing Colin on where he wanted to go, and Ryan took the time to look around as they moved away from the shore. He imagined that this park was packed on the weekend, but considering it was mid week, they practically had the place to themselves, with most of the other vacationers on land, and those in the water few and far between. They found a nice, semi-private spot near the far side of the lake, and Ryan finished with the line while Colin laid back, his eyes closed against the waning sun. They could hear the distant chatter of other campers, and a cool wind rustled the tree line.
When he was done, Ryan cleared his throat and offered one of the lines. Colin opened his eyes and gave Ryan a content smile.
Ryan smiled back. “You like it, don’t you?”
“Hm?”
“This place. You like it here.”
Colin gave an affirming shrug as he reached for the pole. “It was a good idea.”
“See?”
“Yeah, well, with all of the craziness going on...” He gave Ryan a pointed look. “...I think we needed some peace and quiet.”
“Exactly my point. This beats that parachuting thing any day.”
Colin pursed his lips at that, obviously having his own thoughts on the matter, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he lowered his eyes to study the pole.
Ryan shrugged him off, not wanting anything to broach the subject for fear of ruining the moment. He baited his hook, and he was about to cast when he realized Colin hadn’t moved.
“You have done this before, haven’t you?” Ryan said.
“Not since I was a kid,” Colin admitted. He looked up sheepishly, shrugging again. “Maybe I’ll just rest while you do the fishing.”
“I don’t think so,” Ryan argued. He lay his pole aside and motioned for Colin to come closer. “Let me show you.”
Taking Colin’s pole, he showed him how to bait it with a worm they’d gotten when they’d purchased the rest of the equipment, jabbing it onto the hook in three separate locations to assure it wouldn't wriggle free in the water. When that was complete, he passed the pole back, then he slid forward, looping his arms around Colin’s shoulders .
“All right,” he said, pressing his cheek to Colin’s as he fit their bodies together so he could show him how to cast. “You ever skipped stones?”
“Uh…not since...”
“Okay, never mind. But you've played baseball, right? Well when you throw the line out, you want to swing your arm to the side like that. Not over your head. First, bring the rod to your side.” He laid a hand on top of Colin’s and guided it to his right. “Push the button on the reel, swing your arm out in front of you, then release it.” He showed Colin the motion a couple times, then backed off a bit, letting him try it himself.
The first time he released too soon, and the second too late. Both times the line barely moved, and Ryan told him to reel it in and try it again. On the third time, Colin hit it at just the right moment, and the line sailed out in front of them before plunking into the water about 20 feet away.
“Perfect,” Ryan whispered, smiling as he unconsciously wound his arms back around Colin. He replaced his hand on Colin’s, ready to show him how to reel it in once he got a bite.
“And now what?”
“Now we wait.”
Colin nodded, the fringe of hair along his temples tickling Ryan’s cheek. Ryan suppressed a shiver and tucked Colin a little tighter against his chest.
They were silent for a few minutes as they waited for something to happen. Ryan knew he should pull away, but the feel of Colin in his arms was too good to let go. The boat rocked slightly under the occasional wave, but for the most part, the lake was calm. Ryan could hear birds calling back and forth in the nearby trees, and the wind carried with it a hint of the evergreens that surrounded them: both fresh, and yet pungent with the scent of pine and damp earth.
Ryan closed his eyes, tilting his face toward the breeze. Colin’s chest moved against his with every breath, and soon he realized he’d synced their breathing, in and out. In and out. He could stay like this forever.
Or he could do something more.
In his mind’s eye, Ryan could see himself drawing back just slightly. He could envision the way Colin would look at him curiously, how he would cup one hand over Colin’s cheek, and their eyes would slip closed as he brought their lips—
“How—” Colin said suddenly, and Ryan opened his eyes, startled. Colin’s voice was low and rough, and he cleared his throat and tried again. “How do we even know we’re going to catch anything?” He was nearly whispering, but they were pressed so close together that Ryan could hear him clearly.
“We don’t,” Ryan replied, whispering back. “But places like this where they stock the fish are a good bet.
“And this is a good spot,” he continued. He finally forced himself to pull back, then took a deep breath to steady himself. He motioned toward the bank only a half a dozen yards away and then returned his hand to its place over Colin’s, but he made sure to keep some space between them. “See, the fish spend most of the day in the deeper water, but they come up to the shallows to feed, so we’re right in their path.”
“Oh,” Colin said. “Okay.”
Ryan nodded.
When they fell silent this time, it felt different. Ryan tried to think of something to say, but “Nice weather today, huh?” seemed a little desperate, even for him. He was almost certain that Colin had been able to read his thoughts, or maybe it had been the extended hug that had clued him in. Either way the tension in the air was palpable, and Ryan was certain that Colin wanted nothing more than to be off this boat and away from him.
He was just about to suggest they go back when Colin let out a sudden exclamation.
He turned to Ryan with wide eyes. “I think I got something!”
“What?” Ryan looked at the jerking rod. “Oh!”
Without thinking, he fit himself against Colin once more and began barking orders. “Pull up! You want to hook it! Not too hard!” He tried his best to guide Colin’s actions without hindering him, and eventually pulled back, seeing how well Colin could do on his own. “Got it? Now reel it in. Slowly!” He put a hand on Colin’s back, leaning forward to watch the water. “Give it a little tug, then reel. Tug, then reel. Don't let the line go slack.”
“I can see it!”
Ryan could, too. It was a gorgeous trout, thrashing just below the surface of the water. “Bring it home!” he cried, grinning from ear to ear as Colin gave the pole one final tug, and the fish popped free with a splash.
Ryan let out a triumphant cry while Colin stared at the fish twisting and thrashing in the air. Hurriedly, Ryan grabbed a net, scooping up the fish so they could detach the hook. It was a respectable two feet long and strong to boot, and they laughed and panted as they wrestled it into a waiting cooler. Ryan let out a long breath as he closed the lid on it. He could feel the heat of exertion in his cheeks. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up to see a bright eyed, flushed Colin beaming at him.
Ryan laughed and reached over to clasp him warmly by the shoulder. “You were great!”
“I was a mess!” Colin argued. “I can’t believe I actually caught that!” He laughed, shaking his head, and it was impossible to deny the sheer joy in his face.
“I can,” Ryan said. Colin gave another breathy laugh. The pink was fading from his cheeks, but Ryan was sure the adrenaline was still singing in his veins. Offering the rod, he asked, “Want to go again?”
“No!” Colin lifted his hands in surrender, scooting back. “One is enough for me!” He put a hand over his chest. “Anymore of that, and I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”
“It’s the best part!”
Colin chuckled, then let out a long breath, finally seeming to come down from the high. “Seriously, Ry, you go ahead. I think I’m good watching now.”
A few more minutes of prodding followed, but in the end, Ryan agreed that Colin had earned his supper, and he let Colin relax as he settled down to do his own share of fishing.
They stayed out there for another hour and a half, and in that time, Ryan managed to get a small mouthed bass, and another trout, but neither were quite as impressive as Colin’s catch. It was a fact that Colin seemed to take pride in, reminding Ryan a number of times throughout the evening. The teasing finally ended when Ryan convinced Colin to take his rod up again. He’d been lounging in the light of the setting sun, just chatting or dozing as Ryan fished, but each catch lit up Colin’s eyes, and eventually the right words from Ryan had them fishing side by side.
Colin’s was the last catch of the evening. Ryan watched fondly as Colin reeled it in himself, only giving the occasional bit of advice from the sidelines. It was a fierce battle, and Colin was visibly sweating after nearly 10 minutes of back and forth. Finally, he yanked back on the rod, and the fish flew up into the air and landed in the bottom of the boat, right between them.
There, flopping weakly, was a young bluegill that couldn’t have been bigger than 4 inches. Ryan took one look at it and burst out laughing.
“He's small, but he's strong,” Colin pointed out, pouting, as Ryan unhooked the fish and let it go, still chuckling.
Ryan pat him on the back. “Of course he was. Now what do you say we head back and gut these bad boys?”
The horrified look on Colin’s face had Ryan bursting out laughing again as he picked up the oars and began to row them back to shore.
To be continued...
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Date: 2014-11-21 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-21 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-21 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-22 09:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-24 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-11-23 06:38 pm (UTC)I'm waiting for the next chapter Oh I loved this story
Became afraid that I approached the end of I Read the very slowly in order to Unending this chapter
But I want to open Colin more in this story is still like a puzzle
In this story, I want more than sense and feelings of Colin
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Date: 2014-11-24 02:21 pm (UTC)And don't worry; Colin will open up eventually. They're very close to having a good, long talk about everything.
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Date: 2015-02-13 05:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-13 01:50 pm (UTC)