JOHN BARROWMAN / SCOTT GILL RPS FIC - VOLCANO
John Barrowman / Scott Gill RPS fic.
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Title : VOLCANO
Characters : John Barrowman and Scott Gill
Rating : PG
Disclaimer : I do not know or own JB or SG. I have no rights to them. All this is pure fiction from my twisted little brain.
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VOLCANO
“It’ll be good.” Scott told John, plonking himself back in his chair and handing John a leaflet, “I’ve never seen one properly and we can swim after.”
John got the look on his face.
Scott had seen this look countless times in the five years since he’d known John. It was the ‘are there shops?’ look. He got this look every time Scott suggested they look at a ruin or some sort of amazing architecture.
“Where do we leave from?” John asked.
“The jetty just along by the harbour.” Scott said, “The boat leaves at ten thirty from here, and brings us back at four. It takes about forty five minutes to an hour to get across.”
John looked out to sea. The outline of Nisirros was visible from the café where the two men were sitting eating breakfast in the early morning sun.
John had a few misgivings about visiting the island. Nisirros was, after all, an active volcano. The last eruption had been in the mid forties. It wasn’t very highly populated and probably had very little to do in the way of shopping.
The tiny resort where they were staying had a few restaurants and cafés, enough bars to keep the tourists happy, and two tiny ‘supermarkets’ that sold basics. Still, it was hot and sunny with a good beach. The studio apartment he and Scott had rented was comfortable enough and they were both enjoying the holiday immensely.
“Come on, then.” John said, getting up, “What do we need to take with us?”
“Sunscreen.” Scott said simply, “And some cash.”
“Towels?” John asked.
“No.” Scott said, “We can dry off in the sun.”
John smiled to himself as they wandered down to the harbour. At least they were visiting something nature had made and not ruins. They’d hired a car for a few days and toured the small island. It must have been quite something way back judging by the amount of ruins that were just simply scattered around the countryside. And in the main town Scott had gone into raptures over some well preserved half crumbled building. It made John happy just to watch his clever partner run his fingers over the stones. Scott told him he could feel the age in them. John didn’t really understand, but if it made Scott happy, then he was happy too.
They sat up on the deck of the small boat with their legs dangling over the side so that the spray from the waves splashed them. The forty five minute crossing passed quickly enough and soon they found themselves standing on an equivalent jetty on the shore of the volcano.
Looking around, they located a couple of tavernas that looked promising for lunch and past the short waterfront area they could see a small beach.
Loud honking of vehicle horns drew their attention to a line of beaten up mini-busses.
“Hey! You want volcano?”
“Middle of volcano!”
“Very good ride to centre of volcano!”
The various drivers barked their tours, waving the boat passengers towards the busses.
“Come on.” Scott grinned, heading for an orange and pink bus.
They paid the young woman standing at the door and climbed aboard. The interior of the bus had worn seats and only three of the windows had glass in them.
“You bring me to the classiest of places, Darling.” John laughed as they took their seats.
The bus soon filled and the young woman climbed on and stood in the open doorway.
A large man heaved himself up into the drivers seat and started the engine.
“Good-a morning-a.” the young woman said, heavily emphasising the ends of the words, “We go up the hill-a to the edge-a of crater and then make our way down-a to the lava bed-a. Enjoy journey.”
The bus lurched away from its parking spot and began it’s ascent up the first part of the hill. The road wound its way up in a switchback pattern with some extremely tight bends.
“You will see-a some small stone-a structure at side of road-a. This is where people is die from accident. The family place flower and light-a in the structure.” the young woman told the passengers.
John and Scott exchanged bemused glances.
Their worries were compounded when the bus driver turned in his seat and yelled “No accident in thirty year!” at the passengers, then proceeded to chat to the young woman as he navigated the tight turns, looking more at her than the road.
Scott held John’s hand.
“If we die here, remember that I love you.” he whispered.
Soon enough the bus heaved its way over the crest of the hill and Scott and John all but gasped at the vista spread out in front of them.
The volcano’s crater was around three miles long by one mile wide. Neither of them had expected it to be so huge.
“The island is the volcano.” the young woman explained, “It last-a erupt in middle of 1940’s. All inhabitant of island-a are build house around outside edge-a of the crater. Soon we take you to lava bed-a.”
John winced as an acrid smell assaulted his nostrils. Many of the other passengers began to hold their noses. Scott looked at John with his eyebrows raised. He couldn’t smell anything.
“The bad-a smell is sulphur.” the young woman told them, “It is where-a the molten lava is blow up through the crust-a. It blow through fissure in rock-a. Lava bed is solid. Twelve-a feet thick on the top-a where it is cooler. You will notice blow holes in the lava bed and it is very hot down there. Please do not jump up and down on the lava bed-a.” She turned and said something to the driver as he stopped the bus. “OK. Yannis say he will come back in one hour. There is hut for drink. Enjoy.”
The passengers filed off of the bus. The temperature in the crater was extremely hot and very dry and there was no shelter or shade anywhere.
John and Scott watched the bus drive away in a boil of dust.
“I have a feeling that this might be the longest hour of our lives.” Scott said.
They made their way down between the rocks to the rough slope that led to the lava bed.
The heat was incredible. The sun beat down onto the surface which, combined with the heat of the lava beneath the crust, made them feel like their shoes would melt.
“Stop. Listen.” Scott caught John’s arm, “Can you hear it?”
“Hear what?” John was certain Scott was going to say he could hear a cracking sound.
“The lava bed is drumming.” Scott said, “When people walk across it, it drums.”
John listened.
“Oh hell! It does! Twelve feet isn’t really that thick is it?” he said, “Shall we go?”
Scott laughed. “What? And sit in the shade of those lovely trees and sip ice cold beer?”
John narrowed his eyes at Scott.
“Scott? Scott?”
Scott turned to him.
“Assholes!” John said, grinning.
There wasn’t really much to see in the searing lava bed. They examined a sulphur rimmed blow hole and felt the surface with their hands, deciding it was too hot to touch comfortably.
“Makes you feel pretty insignificant, doesn’t it?” Scott said, gazing around at the sheer raw majesty of the volcano.
John nodded, thinking he’d really like to be on a nice safe beach or swimming in the clear sea. This place scared him just a little.
They walked back up to the hut which was actually a roof supported by a back and a side wall, housing a bar which sold warm soft drinks.
Sharing a tepid coke, they listened to the boy that sold the drinks telling a couple about the toilet arrangements in the crater.
“Man piss in bush.” he was saying, “Laidee go in there.” he indicated a small sentry box sized hut, “Piss in bucket and empty into hole. Stand back. Steam. Whoosh!” the boy gestured wildly.
Scott and John exchanged glances.
“I might wait until we’re in the taverna.” Scott grinned.
Yannis brought the bus back exactly on the hour and collected his roasting passengers.
Back on the quayside, Scott jerked his head in the direction of the beach.
“Swim.” he said.
Leaving their shoes and t-shirts on the beach, they waded into the blissfully cool water and sank gratefully below the surface.
Scott pulled John towards him under the water and kissed him.
When John tried to take the kiss further, Scott held him at arms length.
“Wait until we get back later.” he said, “I’ve got an idea.”
John shivered in anticipation despite the heat. He could hardly wait.
During lunch in a lovely little taverna, sitting under a canopy of vines, John tried to wheedle out of Scott what it was he had in mind for later.
Scott just smiled and refused to tell him.
They boarded the boat back to their resort and sat once again with their legs dangling over the side.
More people followed their idea and sat near them.
“Did you enjoy that?” a man asked Scott.
“Yeah. I thought it was great.” Scott answered.
“I hated it.” the man said, “If the earth has an arsehole, that volcano was it. Couldn’t get no pleasure from being somewhere so hot.”
Scott smiled at John.
“Oh, I don’t know.” he said to the man, “I’ve been in hotter places than that.”
He winked at John.
“It was a hole.” the man griped, “A hot hole.”
“I like hot holes.” Scott said with a straight face, “Holes are a hobby of mine.”
John was biting the inside of his mouth in an effort not to laugh.
“What about you, mate?” the man asked, “Do you like holes too?”
“Nowhere near as much as him.” John grinned, nodding towards a laughing Scott.
The man gave up on the men with the weird answers and asked the same questions to the couple on his other side.
John leaned in towards Scott and spoke softly.
“Pray tell, my man, what is it you like about holes?” he asked, “What sort of holes do you like?”
“Oh, I like holes that are dark and narrow.” Scott grinned, “Preferably with impossibly tight entrances.”
“Hmm, kind of like potholing, then?” John said, “Do you wear any special clothing?”
“Just a rubber coat.” Scott said, “Though there is one particular hole that I’m becoming rather familiar with. I’m hoping, one day, I might not need to wear the coat.”
John smiled at him.
“I’d like that.” he whispered.
As they disembarked, the grumpy man called out to them.
“You guys want to come for a drink?” he yelled, “We’re going in that bar over there for a cooling down drink.”
“Might join you later.” Scott called back, “We’re just going to sort out some potholing.”