NOWHERE BOYS: Special training (Andy Lau x Jake Riles)

Special Remorse

This is not something that comes naturally to you as it is much easier to ignore and pass wrong doings when they are self-inflicted (perhaps intentionally so). This time there is a victim to your defensiveness and thus it must be remedied. There are spirits to heal, wounds to close.

Worrying this may be to simply rid yourself of the guilt, you push the thoughts away when you decide that no, this is what must be done. You put on knee length shorts, a neat button up shirt, toss a jumper over top, slip your heels into sneakers, grab a book, and begrudgingly free the kickstand of your bicycle.

You could only hope he would accept your very sorry "sorry."

As if it might be any challenge to find him, you pretend to not know where he is to privately denote yourself ignorant or unaware. The reluctance you have to confront your behaviour is a potent suppressant for intuition or honesty.

Sheesh.

Mounting the hill downward in the next street has somehow become a terrifying and hazardous slope. You might fly over the handlebars, surely. Although you stop yourself from scurrying back home, Bear Grylls in the back of your mind.

Unable to move you hiccup and groan. No way will this be easy, but the descent begins.

As a small expression of joy you do lift your feet from the stirrups of your bicycle, stretching your legs out forward as the gravity alone sends your chain whirring without moving the pedals.

The sun on your face and legs gives you a warm flush but your stomach drops when you eventually begin to come upon your destination. Wheels screeching in the dirt it takes all of your courage to turn your head and gaze out to the stream where you know he might be.

You consider on your way out purchasing something as a gesture but decide against it. To be rejected with gift in hand would be unbearable.

You cruise a few minutes outside of the southeast entrance and eventually come to a thin dirt path leading down to the water. The training spot, if you're recalling correctly, is just behind a swatch of tall trees that taper into a rolling hill; When you descend and turn the corner you feel your knees lock up and a flush of heat spreads from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes.

There were a few parallel bars set up for gymnastic and weight training plus pull ups and the like, simple structures made of wood and metal rods for situational exercise purposes. You are standing far enough away to go unnoticed but there, with knees hooked over the top of the bars so his back is to you, Jake is positioned to do what appears to be a gruelling task.

Beneath him is a huge bucket of water with another bucket attached to the bar between his knees and he is using a small cup to transfer it from one bucket to the other, doing a full sit up with every splash before reclining and stretching for another refill. You can hear him breathing rhythmically from where you are standing, timed with the exertion of his body so that he inhales and exhales just so.

He doesn't notice you quite yet as he's too involved in what he is doing but you are fascinated by it. His plaid jacket has been discarded (not to be wet) and his shirt removed, revealing his upper torso and muscles that contract and decompress as he scoops up another cup of water.

His arms seem impossibly long and graceful, the languid, twisting power of body and bone befalling his movements while beads of water drip down the contours of his body. He's shimmering, hair curled and stuck against the nape of his neck while the rest peels away and ejects pearls of sweat.

Just watching is exhausting.

"Uh," you clear your throat. "Jake." The voice that leaves you is barely aware of itself when he stops at the bottom of his repetition. His lungs expand with belaboured breaths, the raw carnality of the collapse upon exhale making your hands tingle; The striations of ribs and interlocking muscle are made obvious by droplets of sweat curving across and around and over the very flesh of each breath.

There is a pause before he sits up slightly to grab the bar with both hands so that he has just enough room to lift and tuck his legs in a single motion, dropping to the ground.

You are both staring at each other now with a bit of distance between you, just enough so that you feel safely detached. He is still breathing heavily and his posture brings his pelvis slightly forward so that he can inhale more freely, hands on his hips while his chest tilts toward the sky. The way he holds himself makes you shiver.