He can't help the way his smile brightens, broadens, crinkles at the corners of his eyes, because it's true: he'd dug into that fish like it was his mother's lasagna.
"Hey," he says, keeping it up, even though it's all a pretense, a chuckle in his voice and that smile impossible to push away, "you're all lucky I decided to share. It's the last time I bring Kamekona anything, that's for sure. You know, I think I basically put down the down payment for that truck of his, considering I'm the one he always charges. What happened to doing us a favor after we got his truck back, huh? That's what I want to know."
His hand smacks, light, against the bartop, a mimicry of actual annoyance.
It's better. A little better with every catch and tossing back of words and jokes and teasing. Steve looking a little lighter, a little looser. Unwinding by a hair.
"Okay, fine." He lifts his hand in surrender. "You got me, I admit it, the fishing part was not entirely awful."
Neither was being alone on the boat for hours with Steve, having some beers, watching him soak up the sun and salt air, tan skin and stupid hat and a lightheartedness missing all too often these days.
And everything else. Everything still new, still miraculous, even after weeks, now. Which he still can't believe, isn't sure he trusts, but is damn sure going to make the most of while and when he can.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2012-11-22 04:09 am (UTC)"Hey," he says, keeping it up, even though it's all a pretense, a chuckle in his voice and that smile impossible to push away, "you're all lucky I decided to share. It's the last time I bring Kamekona anything, that's for sure. You know, I think I basically put down the down payment for that truck of his, considering I'm the one he always charges. What happened to doing us a favor after we got his truck back, huh? That's what I want to know."
His hand smacks, light, against the bartop, a mimicry of actual annoyance.
It's better. A little better with every catch and tossing back of words and jokes and teasing. Steve looking a little lighter, a little looser. Unwinding by a hair.
"Okay, fine." He lifts his hand in surrender. "You got me, I admit it, the fishing part was not entirely awful."
Neither was being alone on the boat for hours with Steve, having some beers, watching him soak up the sun and salt air, tan skin and stupid hat and a lightheartedness missing all too often these days.
And everything else. Everything still new, still miraculous, even after weeks, now. Which he still can't believe, isn't sure he trusts, but is damn sure going to make the most of while and when he can.