Happy birthday, Berty...

[sunrayinn]

Late?  Moi???

*looks sheepish*

*picks up birthday and moves it to a couple of days later*

There.  Now I'm not late!!!!!  I just have a small problem with not being able to upload anything to my website, so I am having to post this here, which is more scary than pretty much anything I've done in the last 18 months!!!!  Anyway, you're almost certainly worth it!!!!!!!  For everyone else seeing this, please feel free to skip it!

It's a story for you.  A Wilby story seeing as I don't write Due South and I don't write Atlantis and I DO write SG1, but you must be bored out of your head with those... so finishing some Wilby was my only option!!!

So:

Title:  Summer Wind
Author:  Pepe
Pairing:  Duck/Buddy
Spoilers:  Set before the movie, so no, not really.
Rating:  18
Warnings:  Slash.  first time.  A bit angsty.  A bit romantic.
Notes:  Wilby Wonderful fic for the lovely Berty. Extremely late!!! I hope you had a wonderful birthday, my friend, and I'm sorry I was away on holiday and then that my computer hated me and finally that my website STILL hates me!!!!  I should write something lovely and smushy and cute here, but I don't think I could find the words to do our friendship justice so I shall just give you lots of hugs and kisses and hope that you know anyway.

And I shall now try to perform a cut!!!!


As parties went down at the Watch, this was a good one.

A fire. Some food. Some booze… and Duck.

Duck sitting there watching because Duck never joined in any more. Never let himself get drunk. Never let himself get compromised.

Only time he took his pants down these days was to piss, and Buddy was tired of it. They’d been jerking off together for years. They’d shared cigarettes. Shared a sleeping bag. Shared pretty much everything, and Buddy didn’t like sober, silent Duck. He liked loud-mouthed, drunk Duck, because that was when he got what he wanted. That was when Duck let go and came out of his shell and stood there, dick out, encouraging them all to do something wild and stupid and dangerous.

And he’d been bitten on the ass.

Duck that was.

He’d gone too far. Pushed the wrong guy. Had too much to drink and too much to smoke and it had all gotten out of hand. Some people hadn’t known Duck since he was a kid. Some people didn’t understand what a nice guy he was. What a good friend he could be. What a wise head he owned. Some people only saw drunk Duck and thought that was all there was. Spreading it around. Pissing himself. Falling over with his pants around his knees and loving it when his ass got slapped.

And so Duck had got into a punch-up because some idiot had called him a queer and, even though he was small-framed and wiry, Duck was one hell of a fighter, and there had been blood all over the place by the time he’d been pulled off. Duck had been badly cut up. The other guy had been much worse.

And Duck had stopped drinking after that. Just refused to let it happen again, because the Duck he was when he was drunk was so totally different to the Duck he was when he was sober… and the sober one was better.

In Duck’s eyes at least.

Buddy still wasn’t sure. He liked his friend being out of his skull. He liked seeing the dangerous side that lurked beneath the surface of that calm face, with those gentle eyes and soft voice. The Duck everyone saw during the day couldn’t even vaguely be compared with the one who came out of a bottle, and Buddy missed him.

He skirted the party and went to sit down at the fire - holding out his hands to the flickering flames and staring at Duck across the orange glow.

“Hi,” Duck smiled, and Buddy nodded his head.

“Hi. How are you?”

“Fine,” Duck answered, and it sounded honest and real, so Buddy smiled at him.

“Great. Me too. Haven’t seen you down here in a while.”

“Oh well, you know, been busy.”

“Yeah.” Buddy knew what had been keeping Duck out of the way. Knew about the truck his mother had bought him, and knew that he had set himself up as a handyman. Someone who could do anything. Someone who DID do anything, and so while the rest of them were lying around trying to decide what to do with their lives, Duck was already earning a good living.

“You got much work on?” Buddy asked casually.

“Plenty,” Duck answered, picking up a stick and throwing it into the flames.

“Too grown up for the likes of us now?” Duck didn’t answer. Just smiled his quiet smile and shrugged an almost shy shoulder, and Buddy leaned towards him. “We missed you down here.”

“Yeah?”

“Place hasn’t been the same without you.”

“No fights?”

“No pissing into the wind,” Buddy corrected, and Duck smiled his quiet smile - the one that lit up his face as he chuckled silently to himself.

“Got tired of having to wash my jeans every other day,” Duck explained, and Buddy knew that wasn’t true.

“He was a dick,” Buddy pointed out and Duck nodded his head silently and picked up another stick to play with - hands constantly moving as he turned it around. “Everyone knows you’re not queer.”

“Yeah?” Duck pursed his lips and nodded his head and Buddy frowned at him.

“And even if you are, you’re OUR queer, and that makes it okay.” And it did. Everyone had suspected it. At least, Buddy thought they must have done. No one ever said anything, though. Never had. Duck was Duck and everyone who knew him had always liked him. Duck inspired that. It was difficult to find something to hate, and with liking him came the need to protect him. The need to let him be whoever he wanted to be. No questions. So if Duck was queer, then that was okay.

More than okay.

“I got a job up at the Mulligan house,” Duck explained, still fiddling with his stick - his voice barely audible over the roar of the ocean streaming up over the pebbled shore line.

“Oh yeah? Doing what?”

“Clearing stuff out. Mending it. They’re going to put the place up for sale, so I’m tidying it up for them.”

“Thought they were over on the mainland.”

“Yeah. Not coming back. Not for a while.”

“So how do you get in? That gate they’ve got…”

“Got a key,” Duck answered, lifting his face so he could look Buddy in the eye. “To the house as well. I go up there every morning - early - just when the sun’s coming up. Get a good half a day done and then go on to do the other stuff in town.”

“A key, huh?” Buddy asked, and his heart started up a thump in his chest that he tried hard to ignore because it was a thump that had never done him any good in all the long years they’d been friends.

“Yeah,” Duck nodded and pursed his lips again, which made Buddy’s mouth go dry.

“Always wondered what the place was like,” Buddy mused roughly, trying to seem casual but thinking he was failing abysmally. “Only seen it from the water and from behind the gate.”

“It’s big,” Duck shrugged. “Kind of run down. I’ve got a summer’s worth of work to keep me busy.”

“A summer?” A whole summer?

“Yeah,” Duck nodded, and there was a silence that Buddy didn’t really know how to fill. A silence that seemed to say a whole lot more than he intended, because Duck’s next words were smooth and low, and he glanced away so he didn’t have to look Buddy in the eye as he said them. “You’ll - uh - you’ll have to come up sometime.”

“Yeah?” Buddy licked his lips and watched as Duck flicked his worn down stick into the fire and then rubbed at the leg of his pants - unsure of himself in a way that wasn’t his usual style.

“You’re not working, are you?” Duck asked.

“Waiting to hear about the force,” Buddy answered.

“So you could use a bit of money? A few hours labour?”

“You could do that?”

“Own my own business,” Duck answered almost proudly, and there was a smile on his face that made Buddy’s stomach shiver.

“You’d throw some work my way?”

“If you don’t mind getting up at the crack of dawn and spending the morning with me, yeah,” Duck nodded, and Buddy smiled at him because getting up early to be with Duck had never been a problem.

“Sure. I could do that. I’d like that. Yeah.” And he would. He knew he would. He liked being out in the fresh air and he liked working with his hands. He liked Duck, too. Liked his company. He was easy to get on with. Not demanding. He did a job and he did it right, but he wasn’t impatient or difficult. If Buddy didn’t know how to do something, then Duck would teach him. If Buddy had something he could teach Duck… well, Duck was a fast learner, whatever the teachers had sometimes thought.

“I don’t have any tools,” Buddy grimaced, because he wasn’t a handyman. That had never been in the plans for his future, so yeah, he could work with his hands, but that was as far as it went.

“You can use mine.”

“And the Mulligans won’t mind?”

“They just want the job done. I wouldn’t take you if I thought you were going to clear the place out.”

“Right.” Buddy knew Duck understood people. That he took the time to watch them and learn them and get to know them. His silence wasn’t always about not having anything to say. It was about taking stuff in, too, and he was good at it.

Buddy glanced at his watch and cleared his throat. It was late. The fire was dying down a little and the wind was picking up and if he had to be up early in the morning…

“I could swing by and get you tomorrow,” Duck said quietly, and Buddy nodded his head. “Drop you home later. Pay you by the hour.”

“All sounds good,” Buddy agreed.

“So I’ll come by at dawn?”

“Yeah. I’ll be up,” Buddy nodded again and slapped his hands down onto his thighs. “Guess I’d better go and get some sleep if I’ve got to be up that early.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Duck answered and climbed to his feet, all wiry-limbs and long, lean grace. He never seemed to put on any weight, and yet the muscles in his arms were stronger and fiercer looking than when Buddy had last seen him, and Buddy suspected the rest of his body was equally as taut. “You want a ride?” Duck asked, and Buddy frowned at him, not really sure of what was being offered.

“A ride?”

“Home?”

“Now?”

“Yeah,” Duck smiled and Buddy nodded quickly and laughed because he didn’t know where his head was or why he was thinking about what Duck’s body looked like naked. Maybe it was just that they hadn’t been together in a long time. Maybe it was the taste of summer on the wind. Maybe it was something else altogether. The something Buddy had never really let himself think about.

They said their goodbyes to the few who weren’t off under the cover of the trees and Buddy climbed into Duck’s truck and let himself be driven through the streets. They’d done this a thousand times - not always in a car or a truck - but riding side-by-side - often on bicycles as they made their way home from a night out at the Watch. Before Duck had found drink, he’d been the quiet one. For the couple of years he’d been off his head, he’d been the one crashing onto people’s lawns. Now he was back to being the quiet one again, and Buddy - however much he thought he missed Drunk Duck, found that he liked this one just as much. He liked that he didn’t have to say anything. Didn’t have to make conversation. Didn’t have to talk about the latest girl he’d had up in the trees or about the way he’d narrowly avoided being run over because he’d had one too many to drink. He didn’t have to try to make Duck laugh. Didn’t have to try to make him smile. Simple things did that all on their own and, when Duck DID smile… however infrequently it was… it took Buddy’s breath away. It always had.

“It was good to see you tonight,” Buddy managed finally, sitting in the truck outside his parents’ house - fiddling with the door handle and not knowing when he was supposed to climb out.

“Yeah. I liked it,” Duck answered softly, and Buddy reached out and patted his shoulder, wanting to pull him into his arms and give him a bear hug, but not really thinking it was in the slightest bit appropriate. Not here. Not now - all cramped up as they were.

“Thanks for the ride,” he nodded abruptly and opened the truck door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah. If you’re not here, I’ll just drive on,” Duck nodded, and Buddy knew that was his get-out. Duck wouldn’t hold it against him if he changed his mind and didn’t want to go… but he DID want to go… and so when Duck drove by the next morning - the early morning light bouncing off his truck roof, Buddy was already sitting out on the sidewalk waiting for him.

They uttered brief good mornings, and Duck handed him a cigarette, and then it was all about the silence - Duck’s bare arm hanging out of the open window as he half hummed along to the radio and tapped his fingers in a rhythm on the steering wheel.

The Mulligan house, when Duck got the gate open, was as huge as Buddy had always thought it would be. It was a mess, too. Stuff thrown everywhere, both by lack of care and by the winds that picked up sometimes. It was open and exposed to the elements - the ocean clear and blue in the background. Beautiful in the summer months. Wretched in the winter.

Duck unloaded his tools from the truck and Buddy helped carry them around the back to the deck that was as much falling down as mended.

“We’ve gotta get this repaired,” Duck explained. “I was going to patch it up, but the new wood looks wrong against the old. We’d be better to just rip it down and start again.”

“That’s a big job,” Buddy pointed out, and Duck shrugged.

“We have all morning.”

It was difficult work. The higher the sun got, the harder Buddy found it, and he watched Duck strip off his t-shirt so that all he was wearing were his white, paint-splattered overalls - one of the straps hanging off his slim bared shoulder. It looked cool and sensible, so Buddy stripped off, too - revealing a body that was nothing like Duck’s pale one. Instead, he was darker-skinned and broader-chested, and the hair under his arms was thick and black rather than pale and sparse.

And Duck looked.

Buddy was sure Duck looked, and then Duck caught his eye and turned away abruptly to carry on with bashing at a bit of wood with his booted foot so he could clear it away and replace it.

When midday came, Duck started to pack up, and Buddy found it easy to fall into a routine with him. Easy to follow his lead… and that was the way it began. Dawn until midday… day after day… week after week… back-breaking work that hardened Buddy’s muscles as much as it had Duck’s. So much so that when Buddy challenged Duck to an arm wrestling competition, he was fairly sure he’d win… until he didn’t.

“How can you look so skinny and be so strong?” Buddy complained, holding his aching bicep. Duck didn’t answer. Just smiled at him and walked away, and Buddy felt his stomach turn over because Duck had his overalls tied around his waist and they’d slipped down low… down over his hip bones, so that the long curve of his spine was visible along with the beginnings of the swell of his buttocks. “How can you be so beautiful, too?” Buddy asked without thinking, and his heart slammed to a halt in his chest, making him choke and flail out a hand to stop himself keeling over because he’d never… NEVER… been that stupid before. Never lost that much control over himself. Never spoken out loud what had been on his mind for more years than he cared to remember.

For a minute… a brief minute… he thought Duck hadn’t heard, but then Duck turned, and there was a look in his quiet eyes that told Buddy he’d heard everything.

“I mean…” Buddy began, and then trailed off, because he’d said what he meant… even if he hadn’t actually meant it to come out of his mouth. “You used to be a skinny little runt,” he pointed out, not sure whether he was trying to rescue the situation or validate his comment or… or what?

“I still am.”

“You beat that guy half to death.” And it always seemed to come back to that night. To that guy. To that incident. The night when Duck had seen who he’d become and found the strength to make a change. The night he’d taken himself away from Buddy. From everything they had had together. From everything Buddy wanted.

“He called me queer.”

“And?” Buddy asked curiously.

“And?” Duck asked right back, and Buddy frowned at him and watched him tap his fingers on the piece of wood next to him.

“Are you?” Buddy asked quietly - his mouth suddenly dry.

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

And Buddy didn’t know why. Duck WAS gay. Buddy had no doubt in his mind about that… and yet he DID have doubts, because Duck never acted like he was, and Buddy didn’t even really think he knew what it would look like if he did. Didn’t think he’d know what it looked like if ANYone did.

“All those times you wanted us to get our dicks out down at the Watch…” Buddy began, and Duck nodded his head and leaned back against the wooden post behind him, staring out over the Mulligan’s garden towards the vast stretch of ocean.

“I was drunk,” Duck tried to explain, but he didn’t sound as sure of himself as Buddy needed him to.

“Trying to see us?”

“I was drunk,” Duck said again, a little more forcefully this time. “I don’t want to see your dick anymore than you want to see mine.”

“But I DO want to see your dick,” Buddy answered, and closed his eyes and pursed his lips because it was insane to be talking like this. Insane to even be thinking about it. It didn’t matter that they were all alone here. It didn’t matter that no one could hear them. It didn’t even matter that Buddy had wanted to ask… to make the first move… to let it all out, for years now.

“And you’re NOT queer,” Duck said quietly.

“No. I’m not,” Buddy promised and slumped down to sit on the porch step, letting his eyes drift down over Duck’s slender torso. He wasn’t gay. It wasn’t something he could even consider. He had a life. A plan. A career. It was all mapped out… and he couldn’t be queer. He just couldn’t. Not with Duck. Not with anyone.

“What do you want?” Duck asked softly, and Buddy shook his head because he really didn’t know beyond the obvious.

“To be a cop.” That was what he’d always wanted. What his mother wanted for him. What the whole place assumed for him.

“And to get married? To have children?” Duck pushed.

“Yeah. I suppose,” Buddy agreed.

“And to spend the rest of the summer fucking me up here where no one can see us - right?”

The words were shocking, and Buddy opened his mouth to snap out a reply, only to find that there was no reply to give. Not one that made any sense, anyway.

“I thought… I thought it’d just happen,” Buddy admitted, and he knew he sounded ridiculous. He wasn’t a child anymore. Things didn’t just happen. “I thought you’d brush up against me one too many times and I’d shove you and you’d grab me back and we’d laugh about it and then just… just DO it.”

“No,” Duck answered, and shook his head, and Buddy realised that Duck had deliberately been keeping his distance. Deliberately not knocking in to him. Deliberately not making contact because he KNEW. He knew in the way only Duck could, that there was something between them. Something Duck couldn’t let happen because Buddy was going to be a cop, and cops didn’t fucks guys. Not for any reason.

“Don’t you want that? Us? Doing that?” Buddy asked stupidly, and Duck shook his head in that quiet, gentle way of his - face grave as he looked at Buddy across the distance separating them.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it.”

“So do you?” Buddy pressed and Duck shook his head and turned away, bending down to pick up his tools so that he could stuff them into his bag ready to go home. Buddy watched him. Watched the curve of his ass. Watched the line of his legs in their baggy pants. Watched the back of his head when he straightened up - hair cut short up the back so that Buddy’s fingers itched with where he wanted to touch it. “Duck?”

“Let’s go home,” Duck answered quietly, and Buddy frowned and got to his feet - anger simmering in his belly for the first time because Duck wasn’t playing fair. Buddy was going out of a limb. He’d said he thought Duck was beautiful. He’d said he wanted to see his dick. How much more obvious did he have to be? How much more clearly did he have to spell it out that yeah, spending the rest of the summer up here making love was EXACTLY what he wanted to do?

“I’m going to be a cop soon,” Buddy explained, and Duck turned around and nodded. “And I can’t do this stuff then. Won’t want to.”

“But right now you do?”

“Summer madness,” Buddy agreed roughly. “Too much sun, and too much testosterone and too much of you naked. I’m not getting any.”

“And so I’ll do?” Duck’s voice was as smooth and gentle as always and Buddy winced at him because that had come out all wrong. It had nothing to do with not getting any. He didn’t WANT any. Not with anyone else. Not like he wanted it with Duck, anyway.

“I keep getting hard when you take your shirt off,” Buddy tried to explain - closing his eyes so he didn’t have to suffer the excruciating embarrassment of looking Duck in the face. “I keep hoping you’ll get hard when I take MINE off, but those pants are too damn baggy for me to see anything at all.” And he’d been looking. He’d been looking for signs that Duck liked him ever since that night down at the Watch when they’d finally met up again.

“Sun and testosterone,” Duck reminded him and grabbed for his t-shirt which was hanging over the edge of the porch. “It’ll cool down soon.”

“I don’t want it to cool down.”

“We can’t stop it.”

“Yeah,” Buddy promised, surprised at the roughness of his voice. “We can.”

Duck paused and looked at him - his hand stilling, and Buddy swallowed hard and got up, taking a step towards him. This was madness. This was sunstroke, or lunacy, or something far, far worse... but it was what he wanted. Duck. Naked. Wanting him.

“Don’t put it on,” Buddy said quietly, and reached out to snag the t-shirt from Duck’s hand, dragging it away from him and throwing it off into the distance where it landed over a discarded post.

Duck didn’t say a word. Just cocked his head slightly to one side and looked at him thoughtfully.

“Whatever you’re about to say… don’t…” Buddy warned, and Duck nodded and smiled slightly, closing his eyes briefly when Buddy crouched down and reached out - gently cupping his cheek. “You like guys, right?” Buddy needed to know for sure. Needed to hear Duck say it, because he’d never really known for sure.

“Yeah. Right.”

“Guys like me?”

“Dark… dark guys,” Duck acknowledged, and it was clearly painful to him to say it at all… but Buddy needed to know.

“I’m dark.”

“You’re dark,” Duck nodded, opening his eyes and looking straight at Buddy - eyes suddenly so blue that it took Buddy’s breath away. “What do you want? A quick fuck?”

“Yes. No. I mean… no.” But he didn’t really know. Never had. There was something about Duck. There had always been something about Duck, and Buddy didn’t go with guys. He wasn’t gay, and yet Duck… Duck made him feel things he didn’t want to feel. Made him want things he couldn’t possibly want. Buddy’s head said that a quick fuck would be the most convenient. The least damaging. His head said that in and out as quickly as possible was the best way to go. But his heart… his heart said something different. Said he couldn’t use Duck. Said that Duck was too special. Too important. Too vulnerable to be taken and abused and dumped. “I’m not gay,” Buddy reasoned. “I don’t like guys. I’m going to be a cop. I’ve got it all thought out…”

“And I’m inconvenient?”

“You’re perfect,” Buddy admitted - his voice breaking over the words… and he was. Duck was the kind of perfection that Buddy had never found in all the girls he’d taken to bed. The one person who understood what Buddy wanted without saying a single word. “I’m going to get married and have kids,” Buddy murmured - the certainty a harsh pain in his stomach. “I just… just once… just for one summer…”

“That’s more than once…”

“Yeah. I know.” And Buddy did know. He knew there were still a few weeks of work left to do on the house, and he knew that if they did this now it would be the start of something they couldn’t stop because it had never crossed Buddy’s mind that it wouldn’t be good. It had never crossed his mind that he’d be too disgusted with himself to want to do it again. Maybe once… when they were teenagers… maybe then it would have been a one-off. Could have been a fuck down at the Watch or a fumble in a garden shed somewhere… but this summer was different. This summer they had somewhere to themselves. Somewhere they could lock a door. Somewhere safe. This summer they were both on the brink of something… manhood. Responsibility. This summer was their last summer. The last summer they’d have… and maybe that was why Duck had appeared back down at the Watch. Maybe that was why Duck had offered him this job. Maybe Duck had known exactly what Buddy did. That it was now or never.

“You might hate it,” Duck pointed out, and Buddy ran his fingertip over Duck’s lips - tracing their outline carefully. “The sex, I mean… going with a guy.”

“I might hate it,” Buddy agreed and realised that he was holding his breath because Duck was so damn close to him - body half naked and firm and beautiful. “Why don’t you just make this easy for me?” he sighed, and Duck shook his head and lifted his own hand, carefully placing it on Buddy’s cheek so that tingles of fear and want skittered down into his belly.

“What do you want to do?” Duck asked, and Buddy shrugged his shoulders because he honestly didn’t know what there was that he COULD do. Loving Duck had always been a blur of colours. A deep feeling of contentment lying in his belly.

“I want to watch the sun go down with you,” Buddy said stupidly, and that brought a smile to Duck’s face.

“Okay.”

“And light a fire to burn all this wood and stuff.”

“Yeah, we should…” Duck began, turning his intense gaze away a little.

“Hey,” Buddy muttered softly, and drew his face back around - close this time… so much closer, and it was the easiest thing in the world to lean in and brush his lips over Duck’s - just softly. Just slowly. Barely touching at all. “You look so good in firelight.” That’s how it had been down at the Watch. Duck sober and sitting there, throwing sticks into the fire that made it flare and crackle. “You used to come on to me when you were drunk. You used to say things that got me hot.”

“I don’t drink anymore,” Duck reminded him, and Buddy nodded.

“I know that. And you’re right. Sometimes it didn’t agree with you… but it made you less inhibited.”

“I’m not inhibited now,” Duck promised, and Buddy knew that was true. Duck wasn’t backing away. He wasn’t saying no. The only hesitation came from Buddy himself because this was a big deal. This was years of denial flooding out of him, and he didn’t really know where it was coming from. Duck was attractive. Duck was gentle and sweet and stubborn and wise. Duck was the guy everyone went to when they wanted to talk. Duck was the guy the girls flocked around because he treated them right. Duck was the guy who made Buddy’s heart beat faster and his balls tighten painfully in his pants - and it had taken him a long time to admit that.

He leaned in again, ghosting his mouth over Duck’s and then smiling at the sigh that worked itself up out of Duck’s mouth.

“Do you go with many guys?” Buddy whispered, and Duck shook his head. “How many is that?”

“Not many,” Duck whispered back.

“You get picked up at the Watch?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“You like that?”

“I like this more,” Duck answered, and Buddy’s gut clenched painfully.

“Have you ever…?”

“Yes,” Duck told him clearly, and Buddy paused - mouth hovering over Duck’s as he took it in. Duck wasn’t a virgin. Somehow… sometime… he’d gone down to the Watch and been picked up and been fucked… and Buddy wanted to know who and why and how and when. Wanted to know why he wasn’t the first, because Duck was HIS friend. Always had been.

“Were you drunk?” Buddy asked quietly - words hissing out of his mouth.

“First time. Yeah. Needed to be.”

“And after that?”

“Not always,” Duck admitted and Buddy hated that because that meant he’d known exactly what he was doing and who he was doing it with. That meant he’d made a choice to say yes. A choice to drop his pants. A choice to be fucked.

“I want…” Buddy hissed and Duck tightened his fingers on Buddy’s face and leaned their foreheads together.

“I know.”

“You don’t know.” How could he? Buddy barely knew himself.

“It’s all right,” Duck promised and took hold of Buddy’s free hand, guiding it around his waist and onto the rise of his ass - right where the skin met the fabric of his overalls, and Buddy shuddered and moaned, fingers slipping easily down under the thick, heavy cotton.

“I want…” he tried again, mouth open and slack against Duck’s. “I want…” And he was out of words again, because what he wanted was too damn difficult to ask for. His hand was on Duck’s ass. Under his overalls. Caressing over bare, rounded flesh, and Duck’s ass was as tight as Buddy had known it would be, and that half killed him because he wanted it so damn badly. “You’re beautiful,” Buddy said again, words still as ridiculous as the first time he’d said them, and he dropped his head and kissed Duck’s jaw, then trailed his lips down, suckling on the soft curve where neck met shoulder. When Duck whimpered in the back of his throat, Buddy looked up and pressed their mouths together - a longer kiss this time - holding their lips together… just holding… until Duck shifted restlessly and opened his mouth a little, and Buddy fell into him. Fell and drowned. Mouth working Duck’s fully open so they could kiss harder and more deeply, and the first touch of Duck’s tongue to his made him moan out with pleasure.

So different to a woman. So much different.

Duck smelled of sweat and of soap, and his mouth tasted of the water he’d been drinking all morning. The heat was still flaring in the sky, and Duck’s skin was hot and dry where the sweat wasn’t gathering… and damp and cool where it was. Buddy’s fingers moved slowly over his back, trailing up Duck’s spine and then down again, and Duck arched and murmured and grazed his teeth over Buddy’s tongue.

“Lie down with me,” Buddy whispered, and Duck barely answered - just murmured something and shifted so that they could sink down onto the dry, warm earth.

It wasn’t comfortable - Buddy knew that, but there was nowhere else to go. They had the keys to the house, but neither one of them would consider that, and Buddy was pretty sure they couldn’t wait either… and being outside seemed right. That was where they’d always been. Outside. Cycling. Swimming. Laughing. Shouting out into the wind. Pissing into the ocean. Duck wasn’t a man to be held by four walls. Wasn’t a man who ever seemed comfortable inside. He was earthy and primal, and Buddy could feel it more strongly than he ever had before.

He tensed and groaned as Duck’s strong fingers scraped down his back, and they wrestled and fought each other - mouths panting against each others as clothes were dragged off and bare limbs entwined.

“I want you,” Buddy groaned, and Duck met him halfway, pushing up with his hips as Buddy pushed down - hard dicks rubbing painfully together and sending Buddy’s pulse racing. “I want you.”

And Duck’s body said quite clearly that Buddy could have anything he wanted. That he could take his time or he could make this harsh and fast. That Duck would submit to anything… anything…

“Duck,” Buddy breathed, and kissed him hard, melting under the intensity of the embrace Duck gave back. “Duck…”

And that was all he needed to say. Just Duck’s name. Over and over. Over and over until somehow… inexplicably… Duck’s fingers were caressing Buddy’s cock, wiping something smooth and slick onto him, and Buddy couldn’t see or think or speak. Couldn’t do anything other than follow the lead Duck was so gently giving. Easing forward. Pushing. Entering… and it was like something from another life. Like everything Buddy had ever known crumbling in, in, in… folding in on itself until it was just a minute speck of the brightest light Buddy had ever known… guiding him… taking him…

Buddy arched his back and tried to drag air in over his tortured lungs, and Duck wound himself closer, urging Buddy on… wanting him… taking him… and Buddy could smell the ocean. Could smell the summer. Could smell everything he wanted and could never have… Duck’s skin. Duck’s hair. Duck’s body rising and falling - hips stuttering and shaking - ass opening up and drinking Buddy down.

Buddy wanted this. Wanted this forever. Wanted this moment to go on and on, with the sun sailing through the sky towards dusk, and the fire crackling in the yard while the waves crashed against the rocks below and the wind blew the scent of summer across their naked, sweating bodies.

He wanted the force… his precious career… to fall apart. Wanted the letter of acceptance that he knew was coming to get lost somewhere. To be struck by lightning or drowned at sea. He wanted his mother to say it was okay for him not to be a cop. That she’d always known he wanted to be something different. That it was fine for him to take up a partnership with that nice boy Duck who was busy making something of himself. That it was okay for him not to get married. Not to have children. Not to do anything other than fuck Duck up the ass all day every day…

“Oh… God…” Buddy gasped, and Duck groaned beneath him, impaled on Buddy’s cock - lips parted with pleasure as Buddy pounded in to him. Pounded… pounded… until it all faded to nothing but that exquisite white spot of pleasure and Buddy came… convulsed and came… pouring heat out into Duck’s squirming, shaking body and watching, wide eyed as Duck came too.

There was the lazy sound of a light aircraft buzzing overhead, and the scent of flowers on the breeze, and Buddy rolled away carefully - dirt sticking to his skin and hurting his knees. He sat up and brushed himself down, and Duck closed his legs and sat up too, more gingerly than Buddy - resting his elbows loosely on his bent knees and staring out towards the ocean.

There was nothing to say. Nothing that needed to be said. It was going to get chilly soon. The tide was coming in and the wind had picked up, and Buddy glanced across at Duck and felt his heart thud in his chest.

“I meant it, Duck,” he finally said quietly. “About the fire. About wanting to watch the sun go down with you.”

“Yeah?”

“About not wanting it to be just once. Not just one fuck and then goodbye. We’ve got a few weeks of the summer left. I want…”

“What? What do you want?” Duck asked seriously, and Buddy turned away from the questioning blue eyes and rubbed his hand through his thick dark hair.

“I want what I can’t have. You know I can’t have it. I was honest about that.”

“Yeah,” Duck answered gently, heaving himself up off the ground and walking naked across the yard. “You were honest.”

He bent down and started picking up sticks and chunks of wood, and Buddy watched him, unsure if he was supposed to get up and join in, or just enjoy the view.

“If things were different,” Buddy tried to explain, and Duck looked at him and nodded his head.

“I know.”

“Do you?” And Buddy wasn’t sure if Duck DID know. Wasn’t sure if Duck understood just how very much Buddy wanted this life for himself. Wasn’t sure Duck knew that he’d be prepared to live life as Duck’s partner if only his career wasn’t all planned out for him.

“Maybe one day,” Duck said gently, rubbing at his ass to try to get rid of the earth sticking to it.

“One day?”

“Maybe one day the career and the wife and the children won’t matter as much.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Buddy acknowledged, and Duck smiled at him - that beautiful, gentle smile - because apparently it was all okay. Apparently Duck understood. “Will you still be here?” Buddy asked, and Duck shrugged a shoulder.

“Can’t think of anywhere else I’d want to go.”

And that was it. That was what Buddy wanted to hear. That Duck would be here. Waiting. Waiting for as long as it took Buddy to realise what he wanted. What he needed. He’d be here as a friend. Here as anything Buddy wanted him to be… but not as a lover. Not after this summer had ended.

“I should put something on if I’m going to mess about with fire,” Duck said decisively, scanning the ground for his clothes.

“Not on my account,” Buddy murmured, propping himself up against the porch steps and crossing his ankles.

“I’m going to get a burned dick,” Duck pointed out, and Buddy smirked and winked at him, his belly trembling all over again.

“Yeah. I think it’s safe to say we’re both going to have one of those before the summer’s over,” he murmured, and Duck smiled at him and shook his head, practical and gentle and loving even now. “I like you better when you’re sober,” Buddy promised. “I never thought I’d say that, but it’s true. I like you better.”

And this was how he’d remember Duck. Standing in the afternoon sunshine - blonde hair a halo of sunlight. Body naked. Dick soft and spent. Eyes smiling. This was Buddy’s Duck. This had always been Buddy’s Duck, and he always would be - however far Buddy travelled and whatever it was he had to do to make it back here. This was the Duck he knew would be waiting for him.