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angellioncosplay · 2 years

Note

It isn’t from a prompt list, but because it is still winter and just in time for Valentine’s Day, would you consider: OT4 Hockey Players Barclay and Duck and Figure Skaters Indrid and Joseph? Nsfw and meet ugly, if you’re interested!

Here you go! I decided this was, indeed, a good fill to do on Valentine's Day.

Rink time at Ice, Ice, Baby is scarce, as it’s Kepler’s only skate center. Which is why Duck is not thrilled when he sees another group entering right as the adult hockey group is getting their skates on.

“Pardon me.” A man with dyed-silver hair approaches Owen, the captain, “there must be a mistake. We’ve reserved the rink from six to seven.”

“Since when?”

“Since this week.” Another man, black haired and sporting coordinated skate clothes, joins the first, “I double checked, we’re on the schedule.”

“Oh. Well, we never look at the schedule, this has been our slot for forever.”

“Then you ought to have reserved it.” Silver hair replies, voice oddly un-snide for the comment.

Barclay hops up from his spot near Duck and joins Owen. Duck notices that when both newcomers look at him, Mr. Put-together’s gaze stays on Barclay. Maybe the other guy’s does too; he’s wearing weirdly reflective, red glasses that make it hard to see where he’s looking.

“Uh, what are you all here for? Maybe we could, like, share, I know the team could do with a drill day-”

Black hair shakes his head, “Thank you for offering, but no. We’re teaching the new youth skate class, and it’s just not safe to have them on the ice with another group. They’re still not in total control of their movements, and if one of you barrels into them accidentally the parents will have our asses, not yours.”

“We’re not giving up the ice.” Owen crosses his arms.

“But we reserved it!”

“C’mon, man, give it a rest, let’s just let the kids practice.” Duck starts unlacing his right skate.

“No.”

Black hair sighs, “Please just follow the schedule.”

“Make me, twinkle-toes.”

Silver hair frowns a moment, then unleashes a smile colder than the air around them, “I have an idea. If Joseph can score a goal off of one of you, we get the ice. If he can’t, we’ll have the class do off-ice exercises for today.”

“Fine. Barclay, get out there.”

“Uh, I’m not even in my-”

“Fuck it, Duck, you go.”

Duck re-laces his boot, grabs his stick, and skates out to the goal; he’s more than happy to cede the ice, but his pride insists he actually try to block. It shouldn’t be hard; he’s their back-up goalie for a reason. And Joseph’s face is too symmetrical for him to have ever played hockey in any serious way.

His ass isn’t bad, either.

He gets in position, both of them waiting for Owen to call “go.” When he does, Joseph zooms up the ice with alarmingly impressive speed. A tenth of a second later, the puck goes into the net like Duck isn’t even there.

Joseph smiles, so casually dazzling that Duck finds himself blinking away a blush.

“Grew up in the midwest.” Is all the other man says before skating back to the edge of the rink. Duck follows him, too busy enjoying the view to mind the good-natured booing from his teammates. Barclay is perfectly quiet, stays that way even as Duck wobbles over to join him. His eyes are fixed on Joseph, who’s now stretching as his co-teacher welcomes in the pre-teens.

“You okay big fella?”

His friend doesn’t even look his way as he murmurs, “I think I’m in love.”

—------------------------------------------------------------

“A truly rewarding first day.” Indrid sips his cocoa from the paper cup as Joseph winds down the country road to the house.

“They’re a great group of kids.”

“Agreed. Though I was also referring to your putting the hockey team in their place. Those pick-up games when you visit home paid off. I suspect even the goalie was impressed, given how he was watching you when you two skated off the ice.”

“Indrid, he was just behind me.”

“Perhaps. But at least one of his teammates is very interested.”

“Which one?” There’s a glimmer of excitement in his voice.

“The tall one built like a de-anthropomorphized werewolf.” Indrid knows, through their shared love of certain romance novels, that Joseph will understand this for the compliment it is.

Joseph laughs, “Barclay? Good to know.” They pull into the garage, Indrid grabbing their bags as Joseph unlocks the door into the house.

“From the way he was smiling, you could have him eating out of the palm of your hand in a matter of days.” He doesn’t add that he’d very much like to see that happen. That if they had any taste at all, the entire team, the entire town, would be enamored with Joseph.

Indrid can start a business venture with Joseph. He can sign a lease on this two bedroom house with him. But for reasons he cannot articulate but is stuck dealing with anyway, he cannot tell Joseph that he’s in love with him.

And, as the weeks speed by, when Joseph teases him for going to the rink to train everyday, he teases right back that if he’s ever going to keep up with him, he’ll need his stamina.

He’s still internally banging his head into a wall over that one during free skate when someone bumps into him.

“Oh, fuck, sorry.” Duck, recognizing him, offers a casual smile, “hey, how’s teachin’ goin’?”

“Very well, thank you. I take it your team found a new time to play.”

“Yep, just switched to the next hour. Sorry about all that, by the way. Folks in Kepler get stuck in their ways about the weirdest fuckin things.” He chuckles, “shoulda seen the fights that broke out over changing the color of the ‘Welcome to Kepler’ sign.”

“No breaking chairs over people’s heads, I hope?”

“Nah, just a ban on all hot beverages at town meetings.”

“Goodness. Tell me everything.”

Duck obliges him, the two of them weaving in circles until free skate is over. It gives him ample time to appreciate Ducks many charms; the curve of his smile, the easy friendliness in his green eyes, and the stout, soft torso that Indrid would like to slide his chilly hands across to defrost them.

“You hungry? I, uh, I’m enjoyin spendin time with you but I’m also fuckin starvin.”

Indrid is more than happy to accept the following invitation to an early dinner at Amnesty Lodge. Better still, this turns out to be Barclay’s place of employment, so he gets glimpses of the handsome cook while delighting in the company of Kepler’s resident beefcake.

“Outta curiosity, how’d you learn to skate?”

“I had private instructors from the age of seven. I, ah, I was at the competitive level for some time, though I never became a household name. I was all set to go to Olympic tryouts and then I had a rather disastrous accident on the ice. As you’ve seen I can still skate just fine, but it ended my career.”

“Fuck, that fuckin sucks. It ain’t quite the same, but I was on the second string for the Kepler Killer Spruce, our minor league team. Got into a bad collision on the ice, other fella’s skate found just the wrong spot on my leg and that was that.”

“That’s terrible. Also terrifying.”

“Wanna see the scar?”

“Absolutely.” This is only partially so Duck will roll up his pants to show Indrid the curving muscles beneath, “oh, oh my.”

“Gnarly, right?” He smirks as he rolls the fabric back down, “okay, show’s over, you wanna see any more skin, you gotta pay for dinner.”

Indrid laughs along with him and pays the bill. As they’re stopped by Indrid’s car, saying goodnight, a slip of paper slides into his back pocket as Duck drawls, “In case you wanna do this again sometime.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay likes getting to practice before everyone else; he can make sure the ice is clear, get his gear on at his own pace, and do the extra stretches his joints are demanding lately.

These days, there’s the added benefit of watching Indrid and Joseph with their class. Clonking his bag against the door, he opens it and finds Joseph alone on the ice, skating with earbuds in. Barclay sits down in his usual spot, opens his bag, and spends the next seven minutes not putting it on.

Barclay’s not bad on the ice, and he’s never bought into the weird hockey vs. ice skating thing. Different sports take different skills. But Joseph is elegant in a way Barclay could never hope to be, movements precise and so sharp he’s certain if he tossed a dime on the ice, Joseph could turn on it.

The other man glides to a stop, smiling at him as he leaves the ice and removes his earbuds.

“No kids tonight?”

“Every last one of them is down with that flu that’s going through town. Indrid too.”

Barclay’s phone buzzes and he picks it up, “Looks like it got most of the team, and the last two guys just texted to say they’ve gotta look after sick family. Guess I’ve got the night to myself.”

“You’re not staying to skate?” Joseph tucks his gear away in a clearly compartmentalized bag.

“It’s not as fun for me if I’m by myself. I, uh, I might go downtown and grab some coffee. See if the bookstore’s open.”

“Would you, um, mind if I followed you? I put in a special order there that I need to pick-up.”

“Sure. You gotta join me for coffee too, though.” He winks, then adds, “if you want to, I mean.”

Joseph smiles again and Barclay swears his pupils must be morphing into hearts. His condition doesn’t improve when he discovers the book Joseph ordered is a A Slice of Murder; he fucking loves the Pies and Private Eyes series.

Confidence isn’t usually a problem for him–he once went to a gay bar with Aubrey, Dani, and Duck, only to get five drinks sent to him in the first half hour—Joseph’s just spectacularly out of his league.

They get coffee and cupcakes to-go, wandering main street under a cloudy sky. Joseph takes one bite of his mocha-toffee cupcake and moans, “You have to try this.”

“Hands are kinda full, lemme just” He freezes midway through transferring his bag into the same hand as his cup as Joseph holds the dessert up to his mouth. He opens it obediently, blushing as Joseph brushes a stray crumb from his beard.

“That’s fucking great.”

As they continue down the street, Joseph says, “Indrid mentioned you were on the Killer Spruce for a while.”

“Heh, yeah. I was goalie for three years. It was great, but cooking had always been where my heart was. Duck said you’d been trying to go pro?”

“Emphasis on trying. The longer I was in it, the more hostile it became and I…my mental health took a few too many hits. I can be a perfectionist, and that’s a blessing and a curse in a discipline like skating.”

“No kidding.”

Joseph bumps their shoulders together, “I guess it’s good Duck was in the goal that first day and not you; not sure I could have gotten a puck past a pro goalie.”

Barclay swallows the last of his coffee, forcing his nerves down with it, and replies, “Nope, it woulda been even easier. All you would have had to do was wink and I’d have gone done like a chopped tree.”

He stops and Joseph does the same, meeting his eyes, “Is that your way of telling me you’d like to go on a date, big guy?”

“Guhun. I, uh, I mean yeah, fuck yeah.”

“That sums up my feelings too.” Joseph plucks the empty cup from his hand and tosses it in a trash can, then twines their fingers together.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you certain this is safe?” Indrid sits on the freezing log beside Duck.

“Yep. We got the all clear to open it for skating two days ago and it’s only gotten colder. Can’t believe you never skated on lake ice before.”

“It wasn’t conducive to building skate routines. And if I go through the ice, I expect you to save me.”

“Promise I will.” Duck helps him up, “can’t let a cute fella freeze to death on my watch.”

It doesn’t take Indrid long to adjust to the bumpier surface, at which point he slips into his usual swoops and spins. With the sunset reflecting in the ice, it looks like he’s flying, golds and pinks tinting his face.

“Not bad for a city kid.” Duck teases as Indrid returns to his side.

“Is that so…” Indrid grins, “last one to finish a lap of the pond has to buy dinner.”

“You’re on.” Duck takes off, Indrid quickly pulling ahead of him. He pushes harder, managing to catch up and keep stride with him.

“You keep up well, sweetheart.” Indrid blows him a kiss.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Duck passes him, “but you gotta catch me if you wanna find out.”

They hit the finish point and skid to a stop at the same time. Duck doesn’t even get a chance for a full breath, Indrid wrapping his arms around his shoulders and dragging him into a kiss.

“Caught you.” He sing-songs, and Duck smiles into the kiss.

“Sure did. Ain’t even mad that I gotta buy dinner.”

“I believe that pleasure falls to me. Provided” Indrid purrs against his lips, “we eat it in bed.”

—----------------------------------------------------

Going for an extra cool-down lap was a mistake. Joseph’s reflexes are fast, but not as fast as a rogue hockey puck.

“Shit!” He bangs into the wall but manages to stay on his feet. Blinking away the pain reveals Duck skating over to him in a hurry.

“Fuck, Joe, I’m so fuckin sorry, my shot went wild. Did it get you too bad?”

“I’ll have a hell of a bruise on my cheek, but I’ll live.”

Duck seems satisfied with his reassurance, but when Joseph comes back from his dinner at Pho Sure (god bless strip malls), he finds the shorter man waiting for him by his car, snow dusting his bomber jacket.

“Hey. Uh, just wanted to double check that you were still fine.”

“I got a few funny looks, but that was it. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

Duck hesitates, as if there’s something else he wants to say, then grins, “Any time, Joe.” He turns, making tracks towards the sidewalk at the edge of the road.

“You’re not walking home, are you?”

“Nah, catchin the bus. My car’s in the shop until Tuesday.”

“Do you want a ride?”

“That’d be fuckin great.”

As they’re pulling out of the parking lot, the ranger adds, “Uh, actually, any chance we could swing by your place? Left my phone charger there last time I was over with ‘Drid.”

“Of course.” He changes lanes, focuses on the road to avoid imagining Duck and Indrid tangled up in bed together and all the things he could be getting up to while pressed between them. He’s just doing a favor for his friend, no matter how badly he wants to pull over on some dark country road and worship Duck’s belly and thighs until the sun comes up.

He calls up the stairs when they get inside to let Indrid know he’s home, and there’s a flurry of footsteps a moment later.

“Oh! Hello sweetheart, are you here for your—what on earth happened?” Indrid runs right past Duck to cup Joseph’s face in his permanently cold hands.

“Just a flying puck. It’s my own fault for not clearing off soon enough.”

“And mine for aimin’ like shit.”

“You hockey players and your brute strength.” Indrid teases. His face turns serious as he looks at Duck, “oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry, that was a poorly timed joke.”

“S’fine.” Duck shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning on the table. He won’t look at either of them.

“Duck, you know I’m not angry at you, right? I meant it when I said this wasn’t a big deal” Joseph joins him, resting a hand on his arm.

“I know, I know it’s just, I fuckin hate hurtin people, even on accident. Makes me feel like shit, but I didn’t wanna say anythin because I ain’t the one with a new bruise.”

“Well, it’s said.” Indrid stands behind his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his belly and resting his chin on his shoulder, “and since no one here wishes for you to feel like shit, what would make you feel better?”

“I dunnoAh!” Duck breaks into a smile as Indrid coats his face in kisses, “kinda hard to feel down when you’re doin’ that.”

“Hmmmm” Indrid gazes at Joseph; he’s not wearing his glasses, and as his eyes focus mischief comes into view, “perhaps you would feel even better if you apologized to Joseph more…thoroughly.” His fingers dip down, fiddling with the zipper of Duck’s fly.

“I’m down if Joe is. If you tell him what we talked about.”

“Tell me what?”

Indrid steps back, tapping his fingers together, “I, ah, I, as you know, you and I share a proclivity for non-monogamy, and, ah-”

“Is this about the storeroom incident. Because Barclay told me about that. In detail.” He smiles, trying to put his friend at ease.

“Nono, it’s, I” brown eyes squeeze shut, “I have feelings for you as well. I want to be your boyfriend.”

The warmth in his heart pivots from desire to affection, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because in spite of showin off in spandex in front of huge crowds, he’s shy.” Duck teases.

“Perhaps only when it comes to you, Joseph. You’ve been my friend for years, supported me through difficult times and I was afraid admitting I wanted more would lose me what I already had.” Indrid looks at the floor, doesn’t budge as Joseph cups his chin and guides him into a kiss. At which point he melts, lips hungry and demanding as he twines himself around him.

Tapping of fingers on a screen draws their attention; Duck smiles down at his screen, “Just textin Barclay and tellin him you two finally worked it out. It was killin him, bein’ able to tell you were into each other and watchin you dance around it.”

“Is that so? Well, then, I think he ought to join us.” Indrid holds out his hand and Duck sets the phone into it, “and you ought to get going on your apology.”

He has never heard Indrid use this voice before, cold and comforting all at once, like ice water on the worst day of summer.

“Yessir.” Duck gives a goofy bow and drags Joseph towards the stairs, “c’mon, gorgeous, we’re usin his bed because it’s the size of a fuckin boat.”

“I sprawl when I sleep!” Indrid calls from behind him.

“It’s true.” They say at the same time; Joseph laughs, adds, “he once fell off a queen-sized bed in a room we were sharing.”

“Cute.” Duck giggles, “now get your ass into this king-sized one.”

Joseph lays back, the two of them laughing and messily kissing as they tug and toss away clothes. Duck kisses a line down his stomach, taking his dick into his mouth without hesitation as Joseph throws his legs open.

“OHmygod, Duck, yes, oh you’re in trouble I’m going to make you apologize to me this way for everything.”

“Fine by me. Fuck you look even hotter from this angle.”

All he gets out in reply is a moan as Duck slides two fingers in while his tongue teases the tip of his dick. There’s a creak in the doorway, Indrid leaning against it with Duck’s phone in his hand.

“Don’t mind me, I’m simply recording to give Barclay an incentive to hurry over here.”

“Shhhhit!” Joseph bucks his hips as Indrid laughs and perches on the bed. His pink and yellow robe is open, revealing a tent in his black boxers.

“Do you like that, Joseph? Knowing he’ll see just how needy you are, how willing you are to take on all comers?”

“Holy fuck ‘Drid, you’re a menace.” Duck grins at his boyfriend while trailing kisses along Joseph’s inner thigh.

“It’s, it’s what I get for sharing my OnlyFans login with him, ohgod.”

“Yes, yes it is.” Indrid tosses the phone on the blankets, kisses his forehead and Duck’s hand where it’s resting on his hip, “I’ll be back in a moment. “

He disappears into the bathroom. Joseph reaches down, threading his fingers into Duck’s hair as his fingers curve inside him. He chases his orgasm, babbling out praise with every swipe of his tongue, and cums with a surprised gasp. Duck groans softly, rests his cheek on Joseph’s navel and grins up at him.

“Fuck that was fun.” There’s five’o’clock shadow on his jaw and Joseph eases them both upright so he can kiss along the edge of it. Duck crawls into his lap, his boxers noticeably soaked. The kisses are so all-consuming it takes him a moment to register Indrid’s shape in the room and new footfalls on the stairs.

“Holy fuck.” Barclay is fumbling to get his shoes off, pupils wide as he stares at the scene on the bed.

“Hi, big guy.”

“Hey, babe. You cum yet?”

“Yes.” He trades a smile with Duck.

“Rather rudley he did so while I was out of the room.”

Barclay’s attention snaps to the skater, “Oh yeah? Seems to me you should have made sure he didn’t until I was here to see it. And” he growls as Indrid saunters closer, “I think you oughta take his place as my fleshlight because of that.”

“Oh hell yeah, I’m into this.” Duck shifts so he’s sitting on the bed instead of Joseph, allowing them both an unobstructed view of their boyfriends.

“I’m prepared for that. Oh!” Indrid gasps, going pink across the chest as Barclay yanks the robe off and rips his boxers away, “oh goodness yes, alright I’m going, I’m-oof!” He snickers as Barclay shoves his upper body forward and down, his palms coming to rest on the bed while his feet remain planted on the floor.

“Think it’s time we use some of that flexibility of yours. You’re staying like that until I cum.”

“Ohhhyes.”

“Here, big fella, you’re gonna need these.” Duck opens the bedside table, rolling the bottle of lube down the bed and tossing his friend a condom.

“Thanks, man.” Barclay undoes his pants, shoves them and his boxers down to his ankles, “oh fuck, you are prepared.”

“As I saAAAAAid, ohgoodness.” Indrid doesn’t get any time to recover from Barclay removing the plug before the cook pushes into him.

“That’s it baby, take it, fucking take it.” Barclay must bottom out because Indrid yelps and claws the bedspread.

“Jesus it’s fun seein’ him get fucked from this angle.” Duck is eagerly rubbing his dick as Joseph kisses his shoulder.

“Agreed.”

Barclay blows Joseph a kiss, “You like this view, I’ll fuck him this way eveyr night.”

“That’s very thoughtful.” He’s about to get up and kiss him when Indrid whines into the bed.

“W-would someone please touch my cock?”

“I’m. busy.” Barclay punctuates his words with thrusts, punching moans from Indrid’s chest. Duck scoots forward, Indrid lifting his head excitedly. The ranger holds his head up long enough to settle on the edge of the bed, then forces it back down so Indrid is sucking his dick.

“Mmph!”

“Huh? Oh, sorry sugar, though you said you wanted to touch some cock.”

Indrid moans helplessly, eyes shut in bliss when Joseph sneaks off the bed and stands and his side.

“As much as I’m enjoying the show, big guy, I think he deserves a helping hand.” He wraps his right hand around Indrid’s cock, garbled thank yous spilling around Duck’s dick.

“Figures your sense of humor sticks around in bed.” Duck teases.

“I like it.” Barclay pauses to kiss him, Indrid and Ducks moans filling the air as he does. Then the slap of skin joins them and Barclay grunts, “when you jerk him off he gets tighter.”

“Good to know.” He speeds up his strokes, the muscles in Indrid’s back tensing as twists, whimpers, and cums across the floor.

“Hang tight, baby, I’m not done yet” Barclay switches to jerky, short thrusts as Indrid squeaks against Duck’s skin.

There’s a gasped out “fuck” as Duck cums on his face, and a second later Barclay growls, slapping Indrid on the ass once as he shudders through his orgasm. The instant he pulls out, Indrid drops to his knees, panting. Duck wiggles backwards, Barclay stepping out of his clothes to help Indrid onto the bed as Joseph quickly cleans the cum from the floor.

“Everybody good?” Barclay says softly.

“Uh huh.”

“Yes.”

“Mmmhmm” Indrid looks sleepily up at Joseph, “I’ve wanted that for so long.”

“Me too. I guess this means we’re all dating know, right? We should talk about that, I can get a chart going if we need to-”

Duck kisses him on the lips, “Tomorrow, darlin. Think for tonight, we cuddle up under the covers and be glad we found each other.”

He smiles, “Right. Tomorrow.”

21 notes · View notes

angellioncosplay · 3 years

Note

A prompt if you’re interested: From the very end of the last chapter of “Amnesty Records” where you wrote “a song about two ghosts finding each other in the woods, falling so in love that they come back to life.” Indruck, please! Your choice of rating! Meet uglies and so sweet you’ll get cavities are always welcome! Thank you!

I decided to pair this ask with the prompt for the 31st, which is "nothing truly ends."

Content note: this contains references to a car crash.

31. Nothing truly ends

Indrid stumbles back up the embankment; it’s a miracle he can move at all, the way the car rolled ought to have broken a few bones but here he is, barely a scratch on him. He holds his phone up but there’s no signal. Fucking NRQZ.

Headlights cut through the raindrops up ahead and frantically waves his arms, calling for them to stop. The mini-van pulls over and a woman hurries out, the man in the passenger seat calling to the children clamoring about to stay in the car.

“Thank you so much for stopping. I, I hydroplaned and by the time I got control the car was already-”

“Jesus.” The man turns to the woman, who’s holding her cellphone as a flashlight, “anyone down there?”

“No” Indrid approaches them, “I was the only passenger.”

“I can’t quite...oh christ, Arthur, there’s someone in the driver’s seat, they’re not moving. I’m going to go down, if they’re stuck maybe we can help them.”

“I’ll call 911 and come right down after. Boys, you stay put you hear?”

“For goodness sake, there’s no need for this fuss, I’m right here. Hey, hey! Can’t you hear me?” He steps into the beam of the headlights. Freezes when he casts no shadow.

When he holds up his hand, the light passes right through it.

“Well, fuck me I guess.” He whispers, following the woman’s flashlight to where an arm is hanging through the broken driver side window.

When it registers, when he screams, the other travelers don’t even flinch, but every bird and beast scatters away.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s not fair; he’s incorporeal and yet he cannot get past this line in the trees. Whenever he tries, it’s like ramming his shoulder into a brick wall.

“Yeah, that was a real bummer when I worked it out.”

He spins, startled, to find the source of the drawl to be another man. About his age, he’d say, and dressed like a park ranger. He flicks his eyes downward; not a human shadow in sight.

“Who are you?”

“Duck Newton, it’s a nickname.” He holds out his hand, “forcibly retired ranger and, uh, fellow ghost.”

Indrid takes the offered hand, the touch colder than the worst winter night, “Indrid Cold, yes like the urban legend.”

“Bet you’d be more pleasant to pick up than they say he was. I, uh, I mean, for, uh, for a ride, a, a car ride” color rises in Duck’s cheeks, “that’s, that’s uh, fuck, that’s the only way I mean.”

He’s too tired to decipher whether that was attempted flirting; having the first person to try and pick him up in months be a dead guy might be bleaker than the accident that put him here.

“Why can’t I move beyond here?”

“Ghosts get tethered to where they died; you can only move a certain radius outside it. Guess yours and mine overlap.”

Indrid nods. Then he sags down onto a fallen log, “I spent my whole life trying not to be trapped somewhere. Seems fate had other plans.”

Duck steps closer, “You were the wreck last night, right? Then fate’s got fuck-all to do with it. That was just bad luck and a wet road.”

“No!” Indrid snaps, “no, there, there must be a reason, a cause and effect, a, I, it’s too pointless.”

“Hey, look, it’s okay, I know how you feel-”

“How did you die?” Perhaps there’s a connection, something about the place, some tie between them.

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “I drowned. I was helpin evacuate a campground near here durin a freak flood and, uh, well, I got everyone out except for myself.”

“Then, as someone who died for a greater purpose, kindly shut the hell up about how I feel.”

“Indrid-”

“Please just go.” He tucks his knees up to his chest and hides his face against them, keeping them there as footsteps that only he can hear fade down the trail.

------------------------------------------------------------

Today was the day to break his personal stone-skipping record, but Duck’s heart really isn’t in it. He can’t stop thinking about Indrid; it’s been five days since they met and there’s been no sign of the other ghost. He really hopes he didn’t royally fuck things up with the one person who can really keep him company.

Not that Indrid owes him company. And not that Duck is ever going to admit that his first thought at seeing him was that it was crime for death to rob some guy or other of the chance to kiss that captivating face.

After sinking the fifth stone in a row on the first skip, he turns from the lake and hikes into the trees. It would be easier to float up above for a better view, but moving through the woods this way helps him pretend that everything is normal.

He finds Indrid in the roots of a massive pine tree, laying on his side and sobbing. Duck knows the sound, the way crying croaks and gasps out when you’ve been doing it for days on end.

“Indrid?”

Brown eyes glance up at him before returning to their thousand yard stare.

Duck sits down on a root near his head, “You were right that we didn’t end up here the same way. But, uh, if you need to talk, I got a pretty good sense of what you’re goin’ through. Or I can fuck off if you want me to.”

Leaves crunch as Indrid shakes his head.

“You wanna talk about it?”

A raspy inhale, then, “I, I had s-so many th-things I wanted to, to do. I, I was going to drive the loneliest road, and see that big aquarium out on the coast, and, and I wanted to have rats, two of them, a studio somewhere all my own and, and my, my friend was going to teach me poker when I next saw him and I won’t ever even get to do a m-mundane, small thing like that ever again and I, I feel so stupid for grieving it.”

“First thing I got sad about after the, y’know, bein’ dead part was that I was never gonna get the tattoo I wanted.”

“We’ll never see anyone we love ever again.” Indrid says to the trees.

“Yeah. I’m real fuckin jealous of folks who beefed it at home. Fuck, even a hospital wouldn’t be too bad to get stuck in. Could go up to the kids floor, put on little puppet shows for ‘em when the nurses weren’t looking. But, uh, the Monongahela ain't so bad; I know you ain’t got the attachment to it that I did when I died I just, uh, just want you to know that as final places go, you could do a lot worse. And, uh” he touches Indrid’s shoulder, “someone’s pack got bumped outta a river raft a few months back. Had a deck of waterproof playin cards in it. So if you ever wanna learn how to play poker I can teach you.”

Indrid sniffles and without thinking Duck strokes his hair to see if it helps. The newer ghost suddenly flips onto his other side and buries his face against Duck’s stomach, sobbing and shaking so intensely that if he still had bones, Duck would be worried about him breaking them.

It’s been so long since he comforted someone. Yet it’s the easiest thing in the world to sit under the setting sun and hold Indrid too him until, either an eternity or a moment later, he falls into the closest thing he can to sleep.

----------------------------------------------------

“Are you certain we won’t frighten anyone?”

“Nah” Duck waves him into the road leading to the Eastwood Campground, “Even the most open minded folks have a hard time spottin’ ghosts in the daytime. Ugh, c’mon, the sign about bears is right there.” Duck clears an open bag of chips from the table and unlatches the bear box to shove them inside it. His hand stays on the metal, “goddamn I miss nachos.”

“I’d murder someone for fruit gushers.”

Duck raises an eyebrow.

“That was a joke.”

The ranger snickers, “Thought so.”

It’s a problem Indrid had in life; sometimes too literal when interpreting other’s jokes and too deadpan in his own delivery. It hasn’t stopped Duck from goofing off with him; he just bends his approach, learns the little tells in Indrid’s face that mean he’s kidding. Then Indrid gets to bask in his friend’s ridiculous laugh bouncing through the trees.

They move through the campground, eavesdropping now and then as they pick up litter and check fire pits to be certain they’re out. Indrid teases Duck for not being able to let go of his work but they both know he’s been drawing quite a lot in the sand lately for lack of a pen and paper. When he’d looked up, sheepish, at Duck staring at his damp twilight scene, the ranger shrugged and said, “It helps to feel like you’re still you.”

As they’re debating whether the depths of the sea or the depths of space are scarier, Duck stops with a faint shhc of gravel. A woman in a uniform the same as his own is chatting with some campers, smiling and laughing as she does.

“Juno?” Indrid murmurs.

Duck nods, “I tried talkin to her once or twice but...she can’t hear me.” His smile is the saddest Indrid’s ever seen, “glad she’s doin’ okay.”

Indrid waits until the ranger finishes her discussion and disappears back towards the station at the campground entrance.

“Shall we go see if those Great Horned Owl chicks have hatched?”

“Yeah. Yeah let’s do that. Might even see the parents; it’s real neat to, uh, to get that close to ‘em.” He clears his throat, “guess bein’ dead’s got some benefits.”

Indrid bumps their shoulders together as they turn towards home, “True.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, ‘Drid, come look!”

Indrid floats upward until he’s just above the tree-tops, let’s Duck pull him over so they can hover side by side. His friend’s whole body floods with blues, reds, and sparkling white-golds. As the fireworks crackle and boom from the distant speck that is downtown Kepler, Duck rests his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

“Forgot how much fun it is to watch these with someone.”

“I’m glad my cheering is so--OOH! I’ve never seen one in a star shape before!” He flaps his hands and Duck laughs.

“Knew the fella who plans these shows; always tried to get the most cuttin’ edge stuff. Not sure they were always the most, uh, legal fireworks, but their fire safety protocols were damn good.”

“I don’t suppose they do them any other time of the year?”

“New Years, and sometimes they’ll do ‘em around Christmas. You’ll like New Years; they managed a rainbow last time.”

Indrid grins, tilting his head to rest it on Duck’s own, “I can’t wait.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Indrid half floats, half walks his usual route to what he and Duck long ago started calling “their” lake. There’s some portions of each other’s radii that they can’t enter, which means they sometimes spend a few days apart. In the beginning, Indrid sought Duck out because the thought of being alone terrified him. Now, well over a year later, he goes to him because there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Because he misses him when they’re apart.

The last time they were together, Duck kept looking at him like he was a priceless painting--or, given this was Duck, perhaps an rare pine he thought had gone extinct--and when Indrid met his eyes they both blushed like teenagers in the backseat.

He’s so busy remembering the way Duck kept leaning into his space that he doesn’t notice the hiker until he hears, “brrrr, when did it get so fucking cold?”

“Dude, it’s like eighty degrees.”

There’s a whole flock of twenty-somethings on the beach, some cranking up music and tossing stones into the water while others unload beer from a cooler. Duck is perched on a rock, watching them.

“Going to catch up on town gossip?”

“Damn right. These kinda shindigs are always fun to watch. Though if they start boning, I’m out. I’m a ghost, not a creep.”

“Agreed.” Indrid stretches out on the stone to enjoy the show.

It’s well after midnight when the remaining guests--the ones who haven’t snuck off to the bushes--switch the music from alt rock to alt folk, ushering in a series of slow songs that have both the living and the dead swaying.

“Wanna dance?” Duck nudges their feet together.

Indrid stands, pulling him up along with him. There’s a moment of trying to remember whose hand goes where, then Indrid’s arm is around Duck’s waist, Duck’s arm is around his shoulder, and their hands are linked. It’s a clumsy, sort-of waltz, barely in time with the music, but Indrid can’t stop smiling as they spin. He doesn’t look down, doesn’t track their path, nothing in the world could pull his gaze away from the curves of Duck’s face.

When the song ends, stars glitter above and beneath them.

“Danced us halfway across the lake.” Duck smiles up at him.

Indrid rests their foreheads together, “Shall we see how many dances it takes to reach the other side?”

“Lead the way.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

They’re walking their usual path along the lakeside when Duck asks, “If you ever got the chance to be alive again, what’s the first thing you’d do?”

Indrid toes pebbles into the water, “Truthfully? Come back here with a Ouija Board so we could talk.”

Something strained enters Duck’s laugh, “First thing you’d do is come back to the place you died? You’d be alive, ‘Drid, you could do anythin’ you wanted to.”

“I feel alive now, more than I did for much of my actual life. I know that sounds sad and pathetic but it’s true. The years we’ve spent together makes me feel like the world is full of promise, the future is bright, even though we’ll never move beyond this patch of trees until the heat death of the universe.” He pivots so they’re face to face, “why? What would you do?”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “Come back here and try to find you. I...I love you so goddamn much, Indrid. I wish you’d gotten to live the long, long life you deserved but, uh, at the same time I’m so fuckin’ glad we met. That we found each other, even if it was too late for us to build a life together.”

Indrid cups cold cheeks, guides their lips together and smiles when Duck gasps into the kiss. Strong arms loop around him and god, and he feels safer and more loved than he’s felt since he was a kid.

When they part it’s only with enough space to speak.

“I love you too, Duck.”

Another kiss, longer and deeper than the Greenbriar river that runs in the distance. Thank goodness he doesn’t need to breathe. So why is he lightheaded?

He gasps, gulping air as Duck does the same.

“The fuck?” Duck touches his throat as confusion and adrenaline pound in Indrid’s chest.

“Oh my god.” He sets his right hand on his chest, his left hand on Duck’s.

Heartbeats, two of them, pulsing steadily under his palms.

“How?” Duck whispers.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know if others would see…”

Branches crack to their left.

“Oop, sorry fellas, didn’t mean to startle you. Just lookin for a nice place to eat lunch.”

“I think I speak for both of us when I say this is a wonderful spot. And that we were just leaving.”

“Yep, it’s all yours.” Duck is already pulling them towards the trail.

“Thanks! Y’all have a nice day.”

“I’m not sure I could have anything else.” Indrid kisses Duck’s warm cheek as they follow the signs for the campground ranger station.

“No fuckin kiddin.” Duck smiles, then laughs, and Indrid can’t help but laugh with him as a thousand new futures enter his mind and they hurry down the sunny path, their shadows chasing them all the way.

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