riptide_asylum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
riptide_asylum) wrote2010-03-17 10:28 pm
riptide_asylum) wrote2010-03-17 10:28 pm
Entry tags:
"Red Letter Day" (Fear of Falling, 1991)
Title: Red Letter Day
Rating: PG
Summary: Nick's keeping secrets, and Cody can't help being worried...
Nick was acting secretive, and it was starting to get Cody worried. After all these years, he knew his partner pretty damned well, and there wasn't much he couldn't cajole out of him. A six pack of beer and a long weekend fishing, far from King Harbor and prying eyes, and Nick would open up, tell Cody whatever was on his mind.
But this time, something was different. Nick seemed preoccupied, and more than once, when Cody'd walked in to find Nick on the phone, Nick had ended the call abruptly.
"Wrong number," he'd said with a shrug, his eyes sliding away from Cody's face, and Cody felt something cold and fearful taking hold in the pit of his stomach.
It was years since Cody had doubted Nick for more than an instant. But something was up, something Nick was determined not to share, and the more he tried to hide it, the more scared Cody became.
They were booked up solid with fishing charters all week, and Cody found it hard to keep his company smile in place. He hardly had a minute alone with Nick each day, and at night they fell into their bunk, too tired to talk. Too tired to do more than hold on, Cody crawling as close as he dared, taking what comfort he could from the way Nick held him, the whispered "I love you" in the dark.
Cody kissed his lover's skin and prayed it was the truth.
Sunday morning dawned choppy and gray, white caps in the distance promising stormy weather, and Cody was glad when the day's booking called in a cancellation. They could have used the cash - they could always use the cash, the charter business was safer, but it didn't pay as well as the agency had - but a day in port meant a day with Nick, and Cody was determined to get some answers.
But when he came out of the head, he found his breakfast waiting and Nick, smiling, beckoning him close. Snuggled up in the booth, with Nick's hand resting gently on his thigh, Nick murmuring contentedly in his ear, Cody found he could hardly concentrate on his bacon, let alone work out what to say. The breakfast ended up forgotten on the table, and by the time Cody remembered what he'd planned to ask it was after three, and Nick was snoring softly on his chest.
Pleasantly sated, warm, safe beneath the weight of Nick's body, Cody curled close into his lover and told himself he'd been mistaken. For the first time in a week, he relaxed.
The next morning, he realized his mistake. Nick left early to take a party of tourists up - a party of young, scantily dressed, female tourists, Cody thought with a sinking heart as he heard his partner's jaunty whistle. He remembered having to watch Nick with girls, the admiring looks, the cocky grin. The hurt.
Almost angrily he tore himself away, forcing his eyes from his lover's departing back to the charter who'd hired the Riptide for the day. Through the familiar drill of rods and lines, bait and tackle, lifejackets and the location of the head. Cody pulled the Riptide out of dock with a sinking heart and an incipient headache, and fought down the urge to radio the Mimi just to hear Nick's voice.
Somehow he made it through the day, bore the cheerful chatter of his fishing party as they filled their ice chests with a respectable catch. It was sundown before he brought the Riptide home, his face stiff from smiling, to find the pier empty and the Corvette missing from its space.
Cody nearly cried then and there. A day without Nick was hard enough, and the prospect of an evening without him turned him cold inside. The idea of a life without him was beyond imagining.
He told himself they were getting low on supplies, that Nick had probably made a trip to the store with his day's earnings, and forced himself to get on with the post-charter chores. But when the deck was sluiced and all traces of the intruders had been carted out with the trash, Nick was still missing.
Cody shivered. Normally he never felt lonely on board, but now that Murray had left to spearhead his own robotics company, and with Nick so distant, he felt frighteningly alone.
Forcing his hands not to tremble, he bypassed the beer in the fridge and went to the top cupboard for the whiskey. He poured himself a shot and sat at the galley table, inhaling its liquid fire and refusing to think about the evening he'd had planned, on deck with Nick, the cold beer, the sunset.
Nick couldn't be doing this to him, not after all these years. Cody pushed the glass away undrunk and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. They'd been through so much together, were so much to each other. Cody could no more imagine a life without Nick than he could give up breathing.
Almost angrily, he jumped to his feet and dumped the untouched whiskey down the sink. He and Nick belonged together, they both knew it, and if Nick had forgotten - well, Cody knew how to remind him.
He'd just finished laying the table when he heard the throaty grumble of the Vette pulling in. Heart beating fast, he centered the plate of fried chicken, lit the two tall candles he'd placed on either side and killed the salon lights.
Heart in his throat, he leaned against the table and turned his eyes to the wheelhouse stairs, waiting.
"Cody! Cody, you there, man? Sorry I'm late - " The Riptide rocked as Nick jumped aboard, and Cody breathed easier as he heard his partner's hurrying steps. Whatever was between them didn't matter; they'd get past it the same way they'd fought off countless other threats. The only thing that mattered was him and Nick, together.
Nick bounded down the steps and stopped abruptly as he took in the candlelit salon and his partner standing silent, waiting.
"Oh," he said quietly, and pulled a face.
Cody's heart lurched. "Nick..."
"I didn't think you remembered." Nick looked up at Cody with a small smile. "I wanted to surprise you. But the baker made a mistake - that's what took so long." He came forward, and for the first time, Cody realized he was carrying two large bags.
"You wanted to surprise me?" Cody repeated, baffled. Automatically, he took one of the bags from Nick.
"Yeah, I had dinner all planned out, I cancelled the charters for the rest of the week so's it'd be just you an' me, and we could take her out to the deep water. Celebrate properly. And then they screwed up with the cake! Man, I couldn't believe it." As he talked, Nick pulled a bottle of champagne out of the bag he still held and put it on the table.
Cody looked from the wine to Nick in confusion. "Nick... buddy, I think I'm missing something. What's the occasion?"
Nick repossessed the bag that Cody had taken and extracted a large cardboard box. He opened it carefully, frowning, then looked up at Cody, confusion in his eyes. "Ten years tomorrow," he said, and pointed.
Cody looked from Nick's face to the cake on the table and gasped. Picked out in icing was the name Riptide, and underneath, slightly wobbly numerals read 1981 - 1991.
"Ten years tomorrow," he repeated faintly.
"Yup." Nick stepped in close and slid an arm around Cody's shoulders, and Cody leaned into him, feeling every moment of tension from the last week drain away. "I didn't think you remembered. But if you didn't... what's this all about?" He pointed at the table.
"Dinner?" Cody tried half-heartedly
"Dinner? With candles and a tablecloth and your special fried chicken? Come on, big guy. You'll have to do better than that."
"I wanted you to tell me what was on your mind." Cody pulled a little away, turning so Nick couldn't see his eyes. He couldn't decide whether to be ashamed or relieved. "Tonight when you weren't here, I got kinda worried."
"Cody... Cody!" Nick's voice sharpened as he realized what Cody meant, and Cody allowed himself to be pulled back into his partner's arms. "Cody, you got nothing to worry about, do you hear me? Not now, not ever."
It was nearly midnight by the time they remembered dinner. The candles had sputtered away to pools of semi-liquid wax, and the champagne was barely chilled anymore. Fortunately, the fried chicken was just as good cold. Snuggled close in against Nick in the booth, a glass of the pale wine in one hand and a chicken wing in the other, Cody couldn't remember a more romantic evening.
His body still thrummed, every nerve-ending alive with awareness of Nick's proximity. The warm ache of Nick inside him, the sleepy, heavy feel in his limbs. The electric thrills as Nick touched him, the heat of his breath on Cody's neck. Cody sighed happily and leaned back into his partner's arms.
"Ten years," he murmured. "That's a lot of years, Nick."
"Good years." Nick kissed Cody's cheek, and Cody shivered with pleasure. "'S a good boat, pal." He pulled away a little, turning to smile at Cody, and raised his glass. "The Riptide."
"The Riptide," Cody echoed, and sipped the warm bubbles. He hesitated a moment, then put the glass down. "To us," he said, and pressed his lips to Nick's.
Nick kissed him back hungrily, putting his glass down one-handed and pulling Cody into a tight embrace. "To us," he agreed huskily, and kissed Cody again. "Whaddaya say we leave the cake til tomorrow, baby?"
Rating: PG
Summary: Nick's keeping secrets, and Cody can't help being worried...
Nick was acting secretive, and it was starting to get Cody worried. After all these years, he knew his partner pretty damned well, and there wasn't much he couldn't cajole out of him. A six pack of beer and a long weekend fishing, far from King Harbor and prying eyes, and Nick would open up, tell Cody whatever was on his mind.
But this time, something was different. Nick seemed preoccupied, and more than once, when Cody'd walked in to find Nick on the phone, Nick had ended the call abruptly.
"Wrong number," he'd said with a shrug, his eyes sliding away from Cody's face, and Cody felt something cold and fearful taking hold in the pit of his stomach.
It was years since Cody had doubted Nick for more than an instant. But something was up, something Nick was determined not to share, and the more he tried to hide it, the more scared Cody became.
They were booked up solid with fishing charters all week, and Cody found it hard to keep his company smile in place. He hardly had a minute alone with Nick each day, and at night they fell into their bunk, too tired to talk. Too tired to do more than hold on, Cody crawling as close as he dared, taking what comfort he could from the way Nick held him, the whispered "I love you" in the dark.
Cody kissed his lover's skin and prayed it was the truth.
Sunday morning dawned choppy and gray, white caps in the distance promising stormy weather, and Cody was glad when the day's booking called in a cancellation. They could have used the cash - they could always use the cash, the charter business was safer, but it didn't pay as well as the agency had - but a day in port meant a day with Nick, and Cody was determined to get some answers.
But when he came out of the head, he found his breakfast waiting and Nick, smiling, beckoning him close. Snuggled up in the booth, with Nick's hand resting gently on his thigh, Nick murmuring contentedly in his ear, Cody found he could hardly concentrate on his bacon, let alone work out what to say. The breakfast ended up forgotten on the table, and by the time Cody remembered what he'd planned to ask it was after three, and Nick was snoring softly on his chest.
Pleasantly sated, warm, safe beneath the weight of Nick's body, Cody curled close into his lover and told himself he'd been mistaken. For the first time in a week, he relaxed.
The next morning, he realized his mistake. Nick left early to take a party of tourists up - a party of young, scantily dressed, female tourists, Cody thought with a sinking heart as he heard his partner's jaunty whistle. He remembered having to watch Nick with girls, the admiring looks, the cocky grin. The hurt.
Almost angrily he tore himself away, forcing his eyes from his lover's departing back to the charter who'd hired the Riptide for the day. Through the familiar drill of rods and lines, bait and tackle, lifejackets and the location of the head. Cody pulled the Riptide out of dock with a sinking heart and an incipient headache, and fought down the urge to radio the Mimi just to hear Nick's voice.
Somehow he made it through the day, bore the cheerful chatter of his fishing party as they filled their ice chests with a respectable catch. It was sundown before he brought the Riptide home, his face stiff from smiling, to find the pier empty and the Corvette missing from its space.
Cody nearly cried then and there. A day without Nick was hard enough, and the prospect of an evening without him turned him cold inside. The idea of a life without him was beyond imagining.
He told himself they were getting low on supplies, that Nick had probably made a trip to the store with his day's earnings, and forced himself to get on with the post-charter chores. But when the deck was sluiced and all traces of the intruders had been carted out with the trash, Nick was still missing.
Cody shivered. Normally he never felt lonely on board, but now that Murray had left to spearhead his own robotics company, and with Nick so distant, he felt frighteningly alone.
Forcing his hands not to tremble, he bypassed the beer in the fridge and went to the top cupboard for the whiskey. He poured himself a shot and sat at the galley table, inhaling its liquid fire and refusing to think about the evening he'd had planned, on deck with Nick, the cold beer, the sunset.
Nick couldn't be doing this to him, not after all these years. Cody pushed the glass away undrunk and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. They'd been through so much together, were so much to each other. Cody could no more imagine a life without Nick than he could give up breathing.
Almost angrily, he jumped to his feet and dumped the untouched whiskey down the sink. He and Nick belonged together, they both knew it, and if Nick had forgotten - well, Cody knew how to remind him.
He'd just finished laying the table when he heard the throaty grumble of the Vette pulling in. Heart beating fast, he centered the plate of fried chicken, lit the two tall candles he'd placed on either side and killed the salon lights.
Heart in his throat, he leaned against the table and turned his eyes to the wheelhouse stairs, waiting.
"Cody! Cody, you there, man? Sorry I'm late - " The Riptide rocked as Nick jumped aboard, and Cody breathed easier as he heard his partner's hurrying steps. Whatever was between them didn't matter; they'd get past it the same way they'd fought off countless other threats. The only thing that mattered was him and Nick, together.
Nick bounded down the steps and stopped abruptly as he took in the candlelit salon and his partner standing silent, waiting.
"Oh," he said quietly, and pulled a face.
Cody's heart lurched. "Nick..."
"I didn't think you remembered." Nick looked up at Cody with a small smile. "I wanted to surprise you. But the baker made a mistake - that's what took so long." He came forward, and for the first time, Cody realized he was carrying two large bags.
"You wanted to surprise me?" Cody repeated, baffled. Automatically, he took one of the bags from Nick.
"Yeah, I had dinner all planned out, I cancelled the charters for the rest of the week so's it'd be just you an' me, and we could take her out to the deep water. Celebrate properly. And then they screwed up with the cake! Man, I couldn't believe it." As he talked, Nick pulled a bottle of champagne out of the bag he still held and put it on the table.
Cody looked from the wine to Nick in confusion. "Nick... buddy, I think I'm missing something. What's the occasion?"
Nick repossessed the bag that Cody had taken and extracted a large cardboard box. He opened it carefully, frowning, then looked up at Cody, confusion in his eyes. "Ten years tomorrow," he said, and pointed.
Cody looked from Nick's face to the cake on the table and gasped. Picked out in icing was the name Riptide, and underneath, slightly wobbly numerals read 1981 - 1991.
"Ten years tomorrow," he repeated faintly.
"Yup." Nick stepped in close and slid an arm around Cody's shoulders, and Cody leaned into him, feeling every moment of tension from the last week drain away. "I didn't think you remembered. But if you didn't... what's this all about?" He pointed at the table.
"Dinner?" Cody tried half-heartedly
"Dinner? With candles and a tablecloth and your special fried chicken? Come on, big guy. You'll have to do better than that."
"I wanted you to tell me what was on your mind." Cody pulled a little away, turning so Nick couldn't see his eyes. He couldn't decide whether to be ashamed or relieved. "Tonight when you weren't here, I got kinda worried."
"Cody... Cody!" Nick's voice sharpened as he realized what Cody meant, and Cody allowed himself to be pulled back into his partner's arms. "Cody, you got nothing to worry about, do you hear me? Not now, not ever."
It was nearly midnight by the time they remembered dinner. The candles had sputtered away to pools of semi-liquid wax, and the champagne was barely chilled anymore. Fortunately, the fried chicken was just as good cold. Snuggled close in against Nick in the booth, a glass of the pale wine in one hand and a chicken wing in the other, Cody couldn't remember a more romantic evening.
His body still thrummed, every nerve-ending alive with awareness of Nick's proximity. The warm ache of Nick inside him, the sleepy, heavy feel in his limbs. The electric thrills as Nick touched him, the heat of his breath on Cody's neck. Cody sighed happily and leaned back into his partner's arms.
"Ten years," he murmured. "That's a lot of years, Nick."
"Good years." Nick kissed Cody's cheek, and Cody shivered with pleasure. "'S a good boat, pal." He pulled away a little, turning to smile at Cody, and raised his glass. "The Riptide."
"The Riptide," Cody echoed, and sipped the warm bubbles. He hesitated a moment, then put the glass down. "To us," he said, and pressed his lips to Nick's.
Nick kissed him back hungrily, putting his glass down one-handed and pulling Cody into a tight embrace. "To us," he agreed huskily, and kissed Cody again. "Whaddaya say we leave the cake til tomorrow, baby?"