Catch the Thunder

Capri Sun

The next day, they left Rome to continue on their tour around Italy. Laxus hated that this meant traveling—and with it his motion sickness—but there was no helping it. They already had an appointment for a boat ride to a private island, and Freed had already hired another cameraman for a photoshoot.

Finally, they reached the coast, explored a little with lots of photographs on their phones, and rested for the night. The next morning, they headed to the docks. Freed had pulled his hair into a bun, expecting lots of wind on the boat ride, and Laxus kept poking at it with a grin of amusement. Then he saw a man with a massive camera and bags of photography gear. Laxus immediately recognized him as the same photographer they had hired in Rome, Jason.

"Him again?" he asked in surprise.

"He's good," Freed replied simply. "Cool, cool, cool!" Jason cheered.

"Now, a few rules," Freed said as they walked across the creaking wooden dock. "Italy is mostly Catholic, and they aren't known for their acceptance of homosexuality, especially sailors. So please try to behave yourself." Freed paused, but Laxus was still amused by the man-bun. "Laxus!"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, leaving the hair alone. "I'm still worn out from how good you fucked my cock in Rome."

Two women walking past them looked over, shocked by Laxus' words and whispering to one another in Italian.

Freed rolled his eyes. "That's exactly the sort of thing I mean. Behave yourself!"

However, Freed did not have to worry too much. If Laxus got bad motion sickness in cars and trains, the boat ride was a whole different level of Hell for him.

Before the ship even cast off, Laxus was down in the cabin, leaned over the toilet, vomiting up breakfast. Freed had offered to stay with him, but Laxus snapped to leave him alone.

Freed tried to enjoy the ride over the water, but it just was not as good without Laxus beside him. He cursed himself. Why did he think this was a good idea? He knew Laxus had motion sickness, yet almost everything about this trip involved traveling. What had he been thinking?

They got close to the island and weighed anchor. The dock was too close to the shore for their ship, so they had to reach it by a little motor raft. While they were stopped and getting the raft prepared, one of the boatmen walked up to Freed.

"Mister American," he greeted. "Want to try fish?" He gestured to show he meant using one of the fishing lines they had on the ship.

Freed looked toward the cabin, where Laxus was still trying to recover. He figured he could get some fun pictures at least while they waited. "Sure!"

"You catch fish for friend," he said. "Feels better with fish."

Freed arched an eyebrow, and some naughty side of him couldn't help but wonder if Laxus would ever make him fuck the mouth of a fish by saying it feels better.

Nope! Nope, nope, nope! He drew a sharp line at using animals, alive or dead!

He forced that thought out of his mind as the boatman showed him the parts of the fishing rod.

"Big rod, vero? Go down deep."

Freed again cringed as his mind would not get out of the gutter. Oh, Laxus certainly had a big rod that could go down deep!

Through Italian and bits of English, he figured out enough to cast a line. He posed for Jason, and the photographer got to work. Freed figured that these would be some fun pictures to share online. Perhaps it would help his image, appearing more rugged and masculine.