Brotherly Bonding [BoyxBoy]

Brotherly Bonding- 10

Eventually, I fall asleep. By some magic the cousins manage to convince the guys that I had simply fallen ill in the middle of the night (not entirely a lie, right?) and no one disturbs me even in my light and restless sleep. That by itself is an amazing sight. They let me sleep in so much, it's obvious I'd miss school if it were Monday.

Slowly, a laughter fills my ears. It's so familiar in a surreal way. My own? A younger version of my laugh, pre-pubescent and so innocent. I realize that I'm dreaming, but manage to keep myself in it. It's more of a memory; one I can recite to the dot.

"Come on little man!" My father was standing a few feet away, waving me towards him excitedly. I was running up the gravel clutching a tackle box in my hands. "You can do it! Don't let him catch you!"

I laughed again. I can remember the feel of the fishy air filling my lungs and puffing out hurriedly. I finally reached Dad and slapped my hand on the bar that sat a little higher than my head. I turned back to see Ash, who had been running painfully slow so that I beat him. He was just getting off the grass and I smiled wider at his audible footsteps. He was just twelve, and in my six year old mind I unconsciously cataloged how his face was beginning to lose the roundness mine held and would for many more years.

"Darn," he pretended to pant and passed a fishing rod to Dad, then clapped a hand on my shoulder. "You beat me short stuff. Want your pole now, bud?"

I grinned broadly and nodded. We set up the tackle box and I held it steady as Ash hooked a worm and sinker onto my line. He smiled at me and stepped to the side, asking if I remembered how to cast off.

"Of course, Dash. I got it!" The look of glee must have been something, so many times Ash has told me about it. He always gets a distant look in his eyes for a moment when he recounts how I'd act, how I used to call him Dash for some reason; whether it be for a nickname or because I genuinly couldn't pronounce his name is up to whoever wanted to think on it to decide.

"Fine, throw your line out then," he smirked. The younger me took the challenge with gusto. I put my arm behind me and swung it back out with all the power I could muster. The sinker just clanked against the railing as the hook flew in small circles. I glared at Ash as he clutched his stomach in laughter. "Let me show you again, just a little refresher."

I let him take my rod and explain again how to let the line out, then he reminded me when to start pulling it back. Dad smiled on from a few feet back, fishing forgotten. He just stood there.

I sent out the line again, though successfully this time, and giggled while it sailed through the air and plunked into the murky water. Ash came up behind me, this is where my memory begins to fuzz away. This hadn't happened, I'm sure of it. We spent the rest of the day fishing, I even caught two little crappy ones.

Instead of following the plan in my head he places his hand on my shoulder. A second later he starts moving it slowly. When I look down his the fingers seem to be elongating, growing steadily with the rest of him. He adds another hand just as I realize that I'm growing too, albeit slower. It isn't long before I'm sixteen again and Ash is his present twenty-two. Subtly, he leans his face in close until I can feel his breath on my skin. He rubs the tip of his nose into the crook of my neck, a smirk evident.

My breath is coming harder and it catches when I realize the heaviness of the situation- and recall Dad standing a few feet from us. I turn my head only enough to see him but not disturb Ash. He continues as I look Dad in the face, his smile still plastered there as if nothing could take him down, as if this was completely normal. I can see pride shining in his eyes.

I'm so confused. Ash is still massaging my shoulders when I feel him press against my back and lightly place his lips on the side of my neck. I try to fight the shudder that threatens to shake my whole body, I really do try. But I always lose against Ash, just not normally with these things. My breath picks up again when one hand snakes down my chest and rubs a small circle.