“What?”
“Girls. Have you been with a lot?” asked Drew again.
“Nah, just one.”
“And did you… you know?” Drew sounded almost nervous. Robbie wasn't sure why. It wasn't any more invasive than the questions he’d already asked.
“Not all the way. But enough to know girls are not for me. Or maybe just enough to know that Melanie Birch is not for me.” Robbie laughed as he said that, remembering the blundering, uncomfortable, and definitely embarrassing fumbling between him and Melanie.
Silence fell again, but different this time, like Drew was working up to asking Robbie something else, something with a weight to it. Robbie tried to be patient, tapping his fingernail against the glass of the bottle and bouncing his foot so that his whole leg vibrated.
“Have you, uh, been with a lot of guys?” Drew asked, his voice much quieter and less certain than before.
Unsure what constituted lots, Robbie paused. Would Drew be more or less interested in him if his answer fit Drew’s conception of ‘a lot of guys’?
“Some,” replied Robbie cautiously.
Drew’s “Huh,” didn’t give Robbie any clues to what he thought.
“So,” Drew continued eventually, “Can I?” Robbie had absolutely no idea what Drew meant. It seemed to be a common thread through the conversation.
“What?” Robbie asked.
Drew shuffled around for a second, and Robbie tipped his head up to look in Drew’s direction. Now used to the dark, he could see the shape of Drew as he leaned in closer. Anticipation almost immediately overrode his shock of realisation. Robbie held his breath and felt Drew’s warm exhale as he leaned in and kissed him awkwardly on the side of the mouth, clumsy and beery and strange. But when Drew pulled back quickly Robbie immediately wanted another. He unfolded himself and carefully leaned over to where Drew half sat, half kneeled, and took out his phone.
Robbie put his hand over Drew’s and stopped his frantic swiping to get the torch working. He tugged Drew’s wrist gently and he fell forward, catching himself on his hands and dropping his phone into Robbie’s lap. Robbie kissed Drew lightly on the mouth. Drew kissed him back with a tentative enthusiasm.
“I’ve gotta go,” Drew said when the kiss finished. He leaned away from Robbie feeling for his phone.
“Don’t. Stay, just for a bit?”
Drew slowly relaxed and Robbie shuffled, dragging him to kneel between his outstretched legs. Robbie leant in and touched his lips to Drew’s again. Drew opened his mouth and the kiss changed into something more intense so quickly it shocked Robbie. He stopped kissing. Drew didn’t. Drew slid his hand around Robbie’s head, far more confident than Robbie expected, holding him so he could explore his mouth. The sting of Drew’s fingers clutching too tight in his hair spurred Robbie to move, and he twisted Drew’s dark floppy curls through his fingers, until they separated, panting.
Robbie looked at Drew, only a blurry dark outline huddled in front of him. They were both still, silent, and Robbie waited for Drew to say something.
“My phone?”
“It’s here,” said Robbie, grabbing it from where it had fallen beside him, touching the home button and lighting up the screen for Drew to see. Drew took it from him and turned on the torch.
“I’ll see you later maybe?” said Robbie. He didn't want to sound desperate. But he didn't want Drew to leave without making plans.
“Um, yeah. Yeah that would be good,” Drew slipped from the top of the boulder and clambered down onto the rocks.
Robbie lay back and listened to the scrabbling sounds of Drew picking his way back to the club. He stayed up there in the dark, just for a little while longer.
Chapter 6 - Drew
27th December
Drew smiled before opening his eyes. The sun on the caravan roof heated up the relatively small space. The smell and too warm temperature felt familiar and summery. He’d forgotten how much he liked it, along with the anticipation of shock and cold and clear ocean waves once he hit the beach.
Drew’s dad snored in the back room. His mum chatted to someone in the garden. She’d probably spent the morning organising her Caravan Park Tournament partner for this year. Or gossiping and sharing a coffee.
Drew dragged off his sheets and light cotton blanket and made his way to the tiny bathroom, brushed his teeth and washed his face. They still used the amenities block for showers and laundry, but the plumbed-in toilet, sink and running water were a luxury. He stepped out of the caravan in his boxer shorts and an old The Cure T-shirt.
Robbie. Of course, gorgeous, touchy, feely Robbie Adams and Drew’s flirty mum ate breakfast together in the garden. Drew rolled his eyes at the pair of them, and both of them laughed at him. It was friendly, inclusive. A strange feeling welled up in Drew, something oddly domestic, normal, yet completely abnormal in a magical Christmas summer holiday kind of way.
Drew’s mum had braved the BBQ and prepared a ridiculously large stack of pancakes. Piles of cut mango, banana and strawberries, and the Canadian maple syrup that she saved for special occasions, or special people, were on the table. Drew squeezed in next to Robbie, pressing himself into his side, heating them both up almost instantly to a sweaty uncomfortableness. That surprised his mum, but she smiled. He glanced at Robbie, who looked surprised too. Drew surprised himself, sitting right next to Robbie, practically on top of him, a statement, maybe a not-so-subtle claim. Something to investigate later when he woke up properly.
“Why are you here?” Drew asked Robbie after they’d made a dent in the pancake stack.
“Andy.” Drew’s mum combined exasperation, fondness, and outrage perfectly.
“What?”
Robbie pressed his mouth to Drew’s shoulder to muffle a laugh at their exchange. Drew stilled, he’d plastered himself to Robbie’s side, sitting practically on top of him, but Robbie’s soft mouth on his shoulder, and his hot exhalation through the thin fabric of his T-shirt breathed an intimacy into the morning he hadn’t anticipated or expected. Robbie drew back, his face flushed, Drew’s mum muttered something about coffee and extracted herself from the table. Robbie shifted away, clearly trying to put some space between them.
The skin of Drew’s thigh, and arm that had been pressed against Robbie’s, covered with a slick sweat. The sudden rush of air cooled his skin and left him wishing Robbie would lean back into him.
“I’m sorry. That wasn't meant to be rude,” Drew turned to face Robbie.
“Nah, it’s ok. Sorry. I just kind of intruded. Assumed.” Robbie played with his fork, swirling bits of pancake in and out of maple syrup, but not eating. “Um, maybe I should just go.”
Drew tensed. He didn't know what he wanted, but it wasn't that. He didn't want Robbie to leave. He forced himself to relax and slide those few tiny centimetres closer to Robbie, pressing tentatively back into his side.
“Don't. Go I mean.” Drew picked up his own fork and shovelled half a pancake into his mouth to stop himself from saying more. Robbie slowly began to relax.
“So, um, do you want to go fishing today? With me, I mean?” asked Robbie.
Drew hadn't been fishing for ages, since he was a little kid really. He didn't particularly like the endless monotony of casting and waiting without a guaranteed pay-out of a fish at the end.
“I mean, sometimes it feels kind of pointless. Like a waste of time.” Perhaps not the thing to say when someone asks you to spend the day with them. “Why? Do you like fishing?”
Robbie’s knife and fork clattered onto his plate when he stacked up his glass and cutlery, pushing them away. “Yeah, I love it.” Robbie's face lit up. “It’s like a puzzle, or a lottery, or a meditation.”
“Well that’s enlightening and eclectic,” Drew said, but he wanted to know why Robbie described it that way.
“You know, like there’s this whole challenge of working out tides, and species, and where to stand and cast, and what bait to use. It’s a puzzle.” Robbie traced the bright fl
owers of the tablecloth with two fingers as he talked. “And you might get everything in the puzzle right, and still spend three hours fishing and get nothing. But you might get twenty fish. Like a lottery.” He picked at a loose thread and it pulled a line in the pattern of the cloth. He shook his hands hard and shoved them under his thighs. Robbie tilted his head to the side, looking at him with a tentativeness that Drew didn't like. Drew wanted Robbie confident and laughing, not worried about what anyone else might think of him.
“But even if you get it wrong, or you just don't catch something, you stand somewhere beautiful. It’s just you, and you have to either focus or let go. Or both. And that is. I don't know. Something.”
“Okay,” said Drew after a few seconds.
“Okay what?”
“Okay, let's go fishing.”
Robbie’s huge grin right there, just for him, made Drew’s heart stutter.
“Brilliant, I got a bunch of gear for Christmas that I’m dying to try out. I'll bring it. Do you have a rod? Do you have any bait? Have you ever pumped for nippers?” Robbie’s enthusiastic questions were overwhelming, and his beautiful mobile mouth just centimetres from his own begged Drew to kiss it, just like the night before.
“Don't worry,” Robbie continued, “I have enough fishing stuff for us both. Get ready, I’ll come and get you in an hour.” A quick firm kiss on his mouth left Drew reeling, smiling, widely.
Chapter 7 - Robbie
27th December
“So when I said I'd come fishing with you, I didn't realise you were going to make me hike for an hour to get to some middle-of-nowhere beach,” Drew said to Robbie as he followed him down the bush track carrying a backpack, a fishing rod and a couple of other bits of fishing gear Robbie had packed for him. Robbie turned his head to smile back at Drew. He was such a grouch.
“It’ll be worth it, I promise.” Robbie grinned. Nothing, not even Drew’s attitude towards fishing would ruin his absolute pleasure at having Drew with him for the whole day.
They turned a final corner of the overgrown dark tunnel of bush track. The treeline gave way abruptly to bright sunlight, sand dunes and bright pink pigface flowers in a sea of familiar grasses and beachside succulents.
Robbie climbed to the top of the dune and waited for a grumbling Drew to join him. They both looked down to the empty beach, a long crescent ending in black rocky cliffs at each end. It was beautiful. No human footprints marred the flat expanse of golden sand, only the odd slide of a large goanna’s tail and the intermittent prints of kangaroo paws and tails. The sea was a clear and bright blue with the white caps of a swell at the mouth of the bay, small waves interrupting the water's pristine colour.
“You’re right,” Drew said.
Robbie looked up and down the beach for the perfect spot to set up and fish.
“About?” he asked as they started down the other side of the dunes.
“It is worth it.”
Fishing was most definitely not Drew’s thing. Disappointed at first that Drew didn't seem to sink into the calm of waiting for fish to bite, Robbie’s joy returned when Drew abandoned the rods and started pulling off his clothes to lay on a towel and read. Robbie had known he’d be lovely, but really Drew was a lean, perfect, surprise underneath his ratty t-shirts and too-big board shorts. Robbie could tell he was a swimmer now. The muscles under his pale skin were long and sleek and his neon green speedo swim shorts left nothing to the imagination. Robbie turned back to the sea, watching his fishing line and feeling the pull of the waves, taking in the perfection of the moment.
Eventually Robbie dropped his rod into the holder on the beach, leaving the bait in the water to try and tempt the fish. He flopped down on the sand next to Drew, flicking him with a tiny spray of fishy bait water from his fingers.
“Ugh. Really?”
Robbie laughed at Drew’s disgusted expression.
“Hamlet, still?” Robbie asked, nodding at the book Drew read.
“No, this is for me, not for school.” He flicked the cover back and flashed it at Robbie, an old torn up copy of a John Grisham novel.
Robbie’s eyebrows drew up in surprise. “You like that stuff?” Not that he knew if he did or not, himself, but Grisham seemed ancient, like an old man’s holiday read.
“Yeah. Mum always gets second hand books at the Goodwill shop and stacks the bookshelf in the van. I think she has a book club or some kind of trading thing going with the ladies. This was on the shelf a couple of years ago, and I had nothing to do so I read it. I just really liked it. I read it last year, too.” Drew sat up and shoved the book in his bag. “I think it puts my head in a Christmas holiday mindset, maybe just signals to my brain that I can let stuff go.”
Robbie watched Drew’s face while he talked, the nostalgia and concentrated contemplation clear in his expression. Drew pulled his long legs up so his knees tucked into his chest and draped his arms over them. Robbie sat up, mirroring Drew’s position, watching him watch the waves.
“Are you happy?” asked Robbie.
Drew turned to him and gave a confused shrug. “What do you mean? Here? Yeah sure, this is great. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Oh, you’re welcome, but that kind of wasn’t what I meant. I mean, do you like your life. Your friends, family, school? Everything?”
“Um, that’s an insanely big question. Why? Are you happy?”
Drew had avoided answering, or maybe he just didn't know the answer. Maybe Drew didn’t know how he felt about his life. Robbie could understand that. He didn't know how he felt about his life either.
“I don’t know,” Robbie said eventually, “I don't know if I’m happy, and I kind of feel like I should know. No, that’s not right, I feel like I should be happy, and I’m selfish if I’m not.” Robbie looked away as he made his confession. “There’s nothing bad in my life. Annoying, yes definitely, frustrating, for sure, but nothing bad. I just don’t feel like it’s... enough.” He felt guilty at his admission. Drew said nothing. Robbie sank into the quiet surrounding them and they sat in silence on the pristine beach.
Robbie started at the tentative touch to his knuckles. He looked down at Drew stroking one long finger up the back of his hand. Drew watched their hands too. Robbie wished Drew would look up so he could see his eyes.
“I’m happy here. Right now. On the beach, with you,” Drew said.
Robbie turned his hand over underneath Drew’s gentle tickling exploration. Their fingers laced together loosely and they both shuffled closer, leaning on each other as they turned and watched the sea.
The walk back out from the beach felt longer than it had on the way in. The thick, hot air of Christmas and New Year had sunk heavily into the bushlands, and the cooling seabreeze on the beach ended the instant Robbie and Drew set off from their fishing spot. The cicadas shrilled loudly and mozzies stung, making Robbie regret his earlier boasts that mosquitos weren’t interested in his blood.
“I’m not happy now,” Drew said from behind. He dragged a bag, the fishing rods and the rod holders. Robbie carried the fish bucket with the three good-sized sand whiting, along with the other backpack.
“Stop sulking,” Robbie said, glancing behind and grinning wildly at Drew’s half-cranky, half-teasing expression. “You’re happy. You got to spend the day with me.”
Drew smiled at that, and he sped up to catch Robbie as they came over the last small hill to the carpark.
“Yeah, I am happy I spent the day with you.” He dropped the fishing rod holders and grabbed Robbie’s arm. Robbie turned towards him, a bit of fish water sloshing from the bucket onto his leg. “Thank you,” said Drew. “I really am happy.” He leant in and quickly kissed Robbie on the mouth. “Today was fun.” Drew picked up the rod holders and trotted past Robbie who stood still, stunned for just a few seconds before racing to catch up with him at the car.
Robbie opened the boot and shoved the backpack in, grabbing the fishing rods out of Drew’s hand and slid them in so they hung over the ce
ntre console. He shoved the lid on the fish bucket and put it in the boot too.
“You can’t just do that,” Robbie growled at Drew who calmly leaned on the passenger side door.
“Do what?”
“You can’t just kiss me and say you’re happy, and then nothing.” Robbie teased, but an underlying uncertainty coloured his tone.
“Yes, I can,” said Drew, and his smirk said Drew knew what he’d done. He grabbed Robbie’s shoulders, pulling him forward, so that when Robbie finally relented, they pressed together, Drew squashed between Robbie and the car.
“Or I could do this,” he murmured and kissed Robbie again, taking his time. They kissed, exploring each other’s mouths, for not long enough. Pleasure, adrenaline and happiness rushed through Robbie, close to the elusive feelings he’d wished for down at the beach, a contentment in exactly where he was and what he was doing that was usually absent.
“Can we do something together tomorrow?” Drew asked. Robbie pushed himself back, just enough to see Drew’s face.
“Something like this?” Robbie asked, winking suggestively. Drew blushed, adorable and ridiculous, considering he’d practically just jumped Robbie.
“If you want. But I thought maybe we could enter the Caravan Park Tournament, or go to the movies or something.”
“You’re inviting me to compete in the tournament?” Robbie had secretly loved watching the holiday residents compete at the annual fundraising tournament but had never been invited to join. Every pair of competitors had to have at least one member of the caravan park community.
“Only if you want? It’s kind of lame, and I wasn’t going to go in it this year because Isaac’s gone, and we usually compete together.”
“No, I want. I really want.” Robbie smiled when Drew’s tentative expression changed to the surprisingly cheeky grin he’d seen when they’d walked back to the car. It went a long way to soothing the unnecessary jealousy that Drew had someone he usually competed with. Robbie pressed a quick kiss to the side of Drew’s mouth and pushed away from him.
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