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turpsI hope you like this, and that boat cleaning is manly enough for you *g*
Chris stares at the bucket full of bottles and old cloths. Nick has one too and Chris suddenly has a bad feeling that Nick’s tricked him somehow; he was expecting a picnic on Nick’s boat, not buckets of cleaning supplies.
“I though we were going to your boat?” Chris sounds suspicious to his own ears, and he’s not surprised when Nick laughs.
“We are.” Nick locks his car and starts to walk toward the jetty, he’s wearing cut offs and a white shirt, practically glowing in the sun. He holds his bucket in one hand, swinging it casually, and Chris watches for a moment, enjoying the sight.
“Hold on, Carter you speed freak.” Nick’s almost at the gate to the jetty and Chris runs to catch up, skidding to a halt at Nick’s side. Nick smiles and holds Chris round the waist for a moment, pretending to steady him for any watching eyes.
“If you didn’t spend so much time staring at my ass you wouldn’t have to run to catch up all the time.” Nick sounds amused and Chris just waves a dismissive hand.
“You know you like me looking at your ass.”
“Not as much as I like looking at yours.” Nick tries to leer and they both laugh, this is an old game and if they’re not careful they’ll end up having an ass groping session, which is fun, but not at all smart in public.
Nick pats Chris on the arm, his hand hot against Chris’ skin, then walks onto the jetty, turning right.
“You’re going the wrong way, dumbass.” Chris knows Nick keeps his boat in slip 12, but he’s walking away from that, toward a part of the docks Chris has never seen before.
“No I’m not.” Nick keeps walking, hips swinging exaggeratingly so Chris doesn’t notice the boat until he’s practically under it.
“Damn.” Chris is shocked. Nick’s boat is on supports looking huge out of the water. It looms over both of them, casting a shadow that reaches into the distance. Chris can’t help looking up at it, wondering how something so beautiful and graceful in water can look so awkward on dry-land.
The bottom looks filthy, covered in algae and dirt. Chris thinks Nick should get that cleaned, then remembers the bucket in his own hand and whirls round. “You don’t expect me to clean that do you?”
Nick laughs out loud this time, putting his own bucket on the ground. “Not by yourself, no. I’ll help.”
“You tricked me.” Chris can’t help admiring Nick’s technique. The way Nick casually mentioned he was going to his boat the next day, knowing Chris would ask to go while he was sleepy and sexed up. “You’re devious, Carter. You can tell you’re one of them.”
“Like you have room to talk.” Nick laughs before handing Chris his empty bucket. “Can you fill this up while I get the ladder set up? I thought you’d rather do the bottom.”
Chris nods and goes to fill the bucket at a near-by faucet. He’s seen how tall the boat is, no way is he going to be up a ladder all day. Bucket full, Chris passes it up to Nick who attaches it to his ladder. Nick must have switched on the radio he has in the boat, a local station is playing and Chris whistles as he fills his own bucket.
He’s still whistling hours later when they finally finish, stepping back together to admire the gleaming boat. Chris’ arms ache and he flexes his fingers which are wrinkled and puffy. It’s been a good day, singing along to the radio and talking as the sun shone with the smell of the ocean in the air.
Their shirts are soggy bundles on the ground. Chris took his off when Nick dumped a bucket of water over him. Why he doesn’t know, Chris happens to think the O Town song is good, and still thinks so after singing it thirteen times in a row. Nick, Chris is sure, just took his off to torment him, so he could flex his muscles as he cleaned. Not that Chris is complaining.
“Thanks.” Nick leans against Chris, and Chris sighs contentedly. “I know I tricked you. You didn’t have to stay.”
“You should have told me that earlier.” Chris grins then turns serious. “There was nowhere else I’d rather be.”
And it’s true. There wasn’t.
Chris stares at the bucket full of bottles and old cloths. Nick has one too and Chris suddenly has a bad feeling that Nick’s tricked him somehow; he was expecting a picnic on Nick’s boat, not buckets of cleaning supplies.
“I though we were going to your boat?” Chris sounds suspicious to his own ears, and he’s not surprised when Nick laughs.
“We are.” Nick locks his car and starts to walk toward the jetty, he’s wearing cut offs and a white shirt, practically glowing in the sun. He holds his bucket in one hand, swinging it casually, and Chris watches for a moment, enjoying the sight.
“Hold on, Carter you speed freak.” Nick’s almost at the gate to the jetty and Chris runs to catch up, skidding to a halt at Nick’s side. Nick smiles and holds Chris round the waist for a moment, pretending to steady him for any watching eyes.
“If you didn’t spend so much time staring at my ass you wouldn’t have to run to catch up all the time.” Nick sounds amused and Chris just waves a dismissive hand.
“You know you like me looking at your ass.”
“Not as much as I like looking at yours.” Nick tries to leer and they both laugh, this is an old game and if they’re not careful they’ll end up having an ass groping session, which is fun, but not at all smart in public.
Nick pats Chris on the arm, his hand hot against Chris’ skin, then walks onto the jetty, turning right.
“You’re going the wrong way, dumbass.” Chris knows Nick keeps his boat in slip 12, but he’s walking away from that, toward a part of the docks Chris has never seen before.
“No I’m not.” Nick keeps walking, hips swinging exaggeratingly so Chris doesn’t notice the boat until he’s practically under it.
“Damn.” Chris is shocked. Nick’s boat is on supports looking huge out of the water. It looms over both of them, casting a shadow that reaches into the distance. Chris can’t help looking up at it, wondering how something so beautiful and graceful in water can look so awkward on dry-land.
The bottom looks filthy, covered in algae and dirt. Chris thinks Nick should get that cleaned, then remembers the bucket in his own hand and whirls round. “You don’t expect me to clean that do you?”
Nick laughs out loud this time, putting his own bucket on the ground. “Not by yourself, no. I’ll help.”
“You tricked me.” Chris can’t help admiring Nick’s technique. The way Nick casually mentioned he was going to his boat the next day, knowing Chris would ask to go while he was sleepy and sexed up. “You’re devious, Carter. You can tell you’re one of them.”
“Like you have room to talk.” Nick laughs before handing Chris his empty bucket. “Can you fill this up while I get the ladder set up? I thought you’d rather do the bottom.”
Chris nods and goes to fill the bucket at a near-by faucet. He’s seen how tall the boat is, no way is he going to be up a ladder all day. Bucket full, Chris passes it up to Nick who attaches it to his ladder. Nick must have switched on the radio he has in the boat, a local station is playing and Chris whistles as he fills his own bucket.
He’s still whistling hours later when they finally finish, stepping back together to admire the gleaming boat. Chris’ arms ache and he flexes his fingers which are wrinkled and puffy. It’s been a good day, singing along to the radio and talking as the sun shone with the smell of the ocean in the air.
Their shirts are soggy bundles on the ground. Chris took his off when Nick dumped a bucket of water over him. Why he doesn’t know, Chris happens to think the O Town song is good, and still thinks so after singing it thirteen times in a row. Nick, Chris is sure, just took his off to torment him, so he could flex his muscles as he cleaned. Not that Chris is complaining.
“Thanks.” Nick leans against Chris, and Chris sighs contentedly. “I know I tricked you. You didn’t have to stay.”
“You should have told me that earlier.” Chris grins then turns serious. “There was nowhere else I’d rather be.”
And it’s true. There wasn’t.
