riptide_asylum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
riptide_asylum) wrote2009-10-16 09:03 pm
riptide_asylum) wrote2009-10-16 09:03 pm
Entry tags:
"Hours Pass" (Out of the Dark, 2005)
Title: Hours Pass
Rating: R
Summary: Another lazy retired morning on board the Hightide.
Hours pass. How many isn't important, but the light is brighter when Cody finally wakes again, the small cabin grown hot as Cody wriggles in Nick's arms. Nick watches the wriggle appreciatively. Some things never change.
"Nick?" Cody raises his head off Nick's shoulder, his hair sticking up at an angle, as if it too was surprised to be awake.
"Hi baby," Nick murmurs, still pleasantly drowsy from the nap. "Feeling better?"
Cody nuzzles at him, responding with a stubbled cheek rasping against Nick's own. They stare into each others' eyes for a minute, and it's possible some more hours pass. Maybe they don't. Time's been behaving a little strangely for them both these days.
Cody bites gently at Nick's lower lip, tugging, then releases it and rolls away, unfolding from his side of the bed with barely audible creaks and pops, stretching on the way to the head. He turns on the tiny light and fan, kicking the door firmly closed behind him.
Nick waits four seconds--counting each one off in his head--before rolling across the bed and stretching over the side, all the way, until he's able to nudge the door back open with his fingertips.
Cody pulls a face and turns his back more squarely to the open doorway. Rolling back into the still-warm center of the bed, Nick crosses his arms behind his head, propping his neck up on their two pillows, listening to the morning, eyes drifting closed again.
Outside in the quiet marina the gulls bicker about fish and clouds and sky, and a tiny outboard motor putts by, slopping soft waves against the hull. Someone approaches their mooring, the measured clopping of deck shoes growing steadily louder.
Nick holds his breath until the visitor passes without a pause, footfalls dying away down the wooden pier.
Inside, down here in their den below the waterline, Cody is brushing his teeth and hair, dithering about in the mirror. Nick waits patiently for the telltale squeak of the bathroom door, the light flicking off just before Cody pounces, hungry for kisses and skin and touch. Nick savors being pinned to the mattress, licked and nibbled and rubbed enthusiastically into the day.
When Cody shows signs of easing up, Nick flips him over and returns the favor, heat and need combating Cody's minty fresh approach. He mouths every inch of Cody's exposed skin, pulling the tshirt up to bare Cody's belly, still mostly firm and no less sensitive than the first time he tasted it. Cody arches with a soft, contented noise as Nick holds him down, hands slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats, thumbs riding the familiar ridges of Cody's hipbones.
It's gone noon, the sun high in the sky, before the two of them emerge from the stateroom. Cody jogs nimbly up the steps to the galley, adjusting his jeans as he goes.
Through the doorway, Nick can just see the bottom of Cody's denimclad calves, his bare feet and ankles stalking across the clean tile floor as he remonstrates with Quinn. The cat remonstrates right back, yowling loudly. As usual though, the minute Cody picks up the ancient, foul-tempered beast, murmuring endearments, Quinn stops complaining and melts, regressing to a happy kitten state, purring even louder than earlier. Nick knows exactly how he feels.
Cody's feet turn back in the direction of their stateroom. "Nick? Did you want me to make you some breakfast?"
Nick gets up from the bed with a sigh. "No thanks, Cody, I like the boat just the way it is."
Reaching the top of the galley steps, Nick growls with pretended annoyance, skating his fingers across Cody's ass as he passes, dropping a quick kiss on the side of Cody's neck.
Quinn's growl is very real and Nick steps away just as the claws come out.
"Aw come on, Nick. That one time was just bad luck, that's all."
Nick stays quiet, rinsing the pan from earlier in the tiny sink. He looks over at Cody and bites his lip, then focuses on scrubbing cat spit and dried health food out in equal measures.
"Okay twice, but you've gotta admit, that second time was a fluke. They should really make warning labels for those things." Quinn jumps down out of Cody's arms, stalking off across the salon, tail held high.
"Cody, most people don't find grapefruit to be all that flammable. If they usually exploded, the government would probably be using them in the field more. Maybe they'd mention something at Reserves."
Standing at Nick's elbow, towel at the ready, Cody gives Nick a dark look. As Nick continues to scrub, smirking, Cody reaches two mugs down out of the cabinet and sets them on the counter, blue whales facing towards them. As he reaches for the coffee pot, Nick says, "I'm watching you, man. Half a cup, then that's it." He gestures with the sponge. "Then I'm cutting you off."
Cody grins, leaning in for a kiss. Still, Nick watches Cody carefully while he's pouring, suds cooling on his hands and wrists. He knows Cody knows he's watching, and it's half the fun.
Over breakfast, they talk about the party.
"Murray says he's found a bunch of people from the old days, Nick," Cody says mildly. "The management at Straightaways has even agreed to give us our old slip, and it sounds like they're willing to put aside rooms there for people to stay over and everything. Pretty fancy."
Nick nods, searching for words. In his mind, the two of them are surrounded by well-meaning friends and acquaintances, all of them pressing in, wanting to touch Cody, to take a piece of him away as proof of their devotion. The faces change while the bodies stay the same, til the two of them are locked in Nick's mind, crowded by a sea of long-dead Army buddies, VC and everyone whose ever taken a swing at the long-departed Riptide Detective Agency.
Nick has no idea he's started shaking til Cody's forehead makes contact with his own. Words are beyond him but unneeded, Cody's breath warm and constant on his skin, everything he needs.
Nick blinks his way back, focusing, and Cody's concerned frown is instantly replaced by cheerful satisfaction. He lets himself fall into eyes blue like a perfect sky, feels them buffeting him, carrying him through the storm and safely back to port, until it's just the two of them again, sitting in the High Tide's vast salon, talking about the most normal, ordinary, innocent of things, a party with all their friends. All the ghosts have been pushed back by Cody's sweetness, the innocence Nick's fought so hard to protect, backed up, it turns out, by solid steel.
Cody still has ways of surprising him, even when it should all be old news.
Nick nods, focusing on the coffee cups. Cody's whale is turned towards him. "You wanna do this?"
Cody doesn't answer, so Nick keeps going, keeps nodding. He manages a shrug and a grin. "It'll be fun. We'll see everyone again, have a few laughs--"
"Nick."
"--Murray can tell bad jokes and Joanna can smoke inside and set off all the smoke detectors. Maybe someone'll even try to arrest her. That's always a good--"
"Tell you what, big guy." Cody slides an arm around him, hand heavy on one shoulder, pulling him close. "We'll set it up for next year, okay? How's that?"
Nick looks down at the table, relieved in ways he can't even begin to express. And with Cody, he doesn't have to. They lock gazes and a world of communication passes between them: that Cody sees the fear in Nick, deep inside, the fear he can put aside for everyone and everything else. That Cody rescues him, the way he always has, and loves him all the more.
A splash outside and they both look up, the moment lost. Cody retrieves his arm and resettles, more centered. He puts both hands around his coffee cup. Nick's still lost in his gaze, still lost in their connection.
Rating: R
Summary: Another lazy retired morning on board the Hightide.
Hours pass. How many isn't important, but the light is brighter when Cody finally wakes again, the small cabin grown hot as Cody wriggles in Nick's arms. Nick watches the wriggle appreciatively. Some things never change.
"Nick?" Cody raises his head off Nick's shoulder, his hair sticking up at an angle, as if it too was surprised to be awake.
"Hi baby," Nick murmurs, still pleasantly drowsy from the nap. "Feeling better?"
Cody nuzzles at him, responding with a stubbled cheek rasping against Nick's own. They stare into each others' eyes for a minute, and it's possible some more hours pass. Maybe they don't. Time's been behaving a little strangely for them both these days.
Cody bites gently at Nick's lower lip, tugging, then releases it and rolls away, unfolding from his side of the bed with barely audible creaks and pops, stretching on the way to the head. He turns on the tiny light and fan, kicking the door firmly closed behind him.
Nick waits four seconds--counting each one off in his head--before rolling across the bed and stretching over the side, all the way, until he's able to nudge the door back open with his fingertips.
Cody pulls a face and turns his back more squarely to the open doorway. Rolling back into the still-warm center of the bed, Nick crosses his arms behind his head, propping his neck up on their two pillows, listening to the morning, eyes drifting closed again.
Outside in the quiet marina the gulls bicker about fish and clouds and sky, and a tiny outboard motor putts by, slopping soft waves against the hull. Someone approaches their mooring, the measured clopping of deck shoes growing steadily louder.
Nick holds his breath until the visitor passes without a pause, footfalls dying away down the wooden pier.
Inside, down here in their den below the waterline, Cody is brushing his teeth and hair, dithering about in the mirror. Nick waits patiently for the telltale squeak of the bathroom door, the light flicking off just before Cody pounces, hungry for kisses and skin and touch. Nick savors being pinned to the mattress, licked and nibbled and rubbed enthusiastically into the day.
When Cody shows signs of easing up, Nick flips him over and returns the favor, heat and need combating Cody's minty fresh approach. He mouths every inch of Cody's exposed skin, pulling the tshirt up to bare Cody's belly, still mostly firm and no less sensitive than the first time he tasted it. Cody arches with a soft, contented noise as Nick holds him down, hands slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats, thumbs riding the familiar ridges of Cody's hipbones.
It's gone noon, the sun high in the sky, before the two of them emerge from the stateroom. Cody jogs nimbly up the steps to the galley, adjusting his jeans as he goes.
Through the doorway, Nick can just see the bottom of Cody's denimclad calves, his bare feet and ankles stalking across the clean tile floor as he remonstrates with Quinn. The cat remonstrates right back, yowling loudly. As usual though, the minute Cody picks up the ancient, foul-tempered beast, murmuring endearments, Quinn stops complaining and melts, regressing to a happy kitten state, purring even louder than earlier. Nick knows exactly how he feels.
Cody's feet turn back in the direction of their stateroom. "Nick? Did you want me to make you some breakfast?"
Nick gets up from the bed with a sigh. "No thanks, Cody, I like the boat just the way it is."
Reaching the top of the galley steps, Nick growls with pretended annoyance, skating his fingers across Cody's ass as he passes, dropping a quick kiss on the side of Cody's neck.
Quinn's growl is very real and Nick steps away just as the claws come out.
"Aw come on, Nick. That one time was just bad luck, that's all."
Nick stays quiet, rinsing the pan from earlier in the tiny sink. He looks over at Cody and bites his lip, then focuses on scrubbing cat spit and dried health food out in equal measures.
"Okay twice, but you've gotta admit, that second time was a fluke. They should really make warning labels for those things." Quinn jumps down out of Cody's arms, stalking off across the salon, tail held high.
"Cody, most people don't find grapefruit to be all that flammable. If they usually exploded, the government would probably be using them in the field more. Maybe they'd mention something at Reserves."
Standing at Nick's elbow, towel at the ready, Cody gives Nick a dark look. As Nick continues to scrub, smirking, Cody reaches two mugs down out of the cabinet and sets them on the counter, blue whales facing towards them. As he reaches for the coffee pot, Nick says, "I'm watching you, man. Half a cup, then that's it." He gestures with the sponge. "Then I'm cutting you off."
Cody grins, leaning in for a kiss. Still, Nick watches Cody carefully while he's pouring, suds cooling on his hands and wrists. He knows Cody knows he's watching, and it's half the fun.
Over breakfast, they talk about the party.
"Murray says he's found a bunch of people from the old days, Nick," Cody says mildly. "The management at Straightaways has even agreed to give us our old slip, and it sounds like they're willing to put aside rooms there for people to stay over and everything. Pretty fancy."
Nick nods, searching for words. In his mind, the two of them are surrounded by well-meaning friends and acquaintances, all of them pressing in, wanting to touch Cody, to take a piece of him away as proof of their devotion. The faces change while the bodies stay the same, til the two of them are locked in Nick's mind, crowded by a sea of long-dead Army buddies, VC and everyone whose ever taken a swing at the long-departed Riptide Detective Agency.
Nick has no idea he's started shaking til Cody's forehead makes contact with his own. Words are beyond him but unneeded, Cody's breath warm and constant on his skin, everything he needs.
Nick blinks his way back, focusing, and Cody's concerned frown is instantly replaced by cheerful satisfaction. He lets himself fall into eyes blue like a perfect sky, feels them buffeting him, carrying him through the storm and safely back to port, until it's just the two of them again, sitting in the High Tide's vast salon, talking about the most normal, ordinary, innocent of things, a party with all their friends. All the ghosts have been pushed back by Cody's sweetness, the innocence Nick's fought so hard to protect, backed up, it turns out, by solid steel.
Cody still has ways of surprising him, even when it should all be old news.
Nick nods, focusing on the coffee cups. Cody's whale is turned towards him. "You wanna do this?"
Cody doesn't answer, so Nick keeps going, keeps nodding. He manages a shrug and a grin. "It'll be fun. We'll see everyone again, have a few laughs--"
"Nick."
"--Murray can tell bad jokes and Joanna can smoke inside and set off all the smoke detectors. Maybe someone'll even try to arrest her. That's always a good--"
"Tell you what, big guy." Cody slides an arm around him, hand heavy on one shoulder, pulling him close. "We'll set it up for next year, okay? How's that?"
Nick looks down at the table, relieved in ways he can't even begin to express. And with Cody, he doesn't have to. They lock gazes and a world of communication passes between them: that Cody sees the fear in Nick, deep inside, the fear he can put aside for everyone and everything else. That Cody rescues him, the way he always has, and loves him all the more.
A splash outside and they both look up, the moment lost. Cody retrieves his arm and resettles, more centered. He puts both hands around his coffee cup. Nick's still lost in his gaze, still lost in their connection.