Home > Trade Deadline(31)

Trade Deadline(31)
Author: Avon Gale

   “Oh no, it might get down to, what? Sixty-four, sixty degrees? Brrr.” Daniel still had his arm wrapped around Micah’s waist, which made him feel all nice and warm...even if Daniel was making fun of him.

   “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Micah huffed, but when Daniel leaned in and kissed him, it sure seemed like staying warm would be the least of their problems. And he liked how it felt to press his hands against the firm muscles of Daniel’s chest, so, yeah, why was he suggesting Daniel put on more clothes again? Micah was not a playmaker.

   Daniel handed over his keys and they headed toward the beach. The event was a popular one, and it took some time to find parking near one of the public access points, but eventually they nabbed a spot. Micah thankfully didn’t have to parallel park—much easier in his Miata—and they grabbed their supplies and set off.

   As they headed over the dune and down the sandy wooden steps, Daniel laughed. “Is that a movie screen? Badass!” He sounded as excited as he would have when they were thirteen. He threw a wicked grin at Micah. “Don’t tell me it’s Jaws.”

   “He shoots, he scores.” Micah grinned. “No joke, the earlier movie was Flipper. Be glad I didn’t take you to that one.”

   “I wouldn’t have minded,” Daniel said.

   “Well, I would have. They used that dolphin to find torpedoes!” Micah scoured the area, found a spot that was close but not too close, and headed over.

   They spent some time getting the blanket spread out, the chairs positioned for optimal viewing, then Micah opened the cooler with a little flourish. He’d prepared a tasty spread for their date, full of good but healthy options that would work with Daniel’s strict hockey diet—the abs were hot, but Micah wasn’t sure he could ever give up good beer and chocolate enough to get them for himself. Definitely the only reason. Right. He’d made a delicious fresh tapenade, paired it with some almond crackers, and also prepared a few grilled chicken and mandarin orange wraps. He’d added a couple cans of wine—since glass wasn’t allowed on the beach—and some simple dark chocolate squares for dessert.

   “This is great,” Daniel enthused, as they settled on the blanket to more easily reach the food. He laughed a little at the can of wine, but they were kind of inherently hilarious so Micah didn’t take it personally. “Did you make all this?”

   Micah nodded. “Well, not all of it—I didn’t make the almond crackers or the chocolate, but the tapenade and the wraps, yeah.”

   “We would have made so much fun of us, as kids,” Daniel joked, taking a bite of his wrap. “While we ate—what were those things you liked, the pretzels with the peanut butter in them?”

   “Combos,” Micah said. He laughed. “I still like them, I have some in my pantry. But I did stop eating Dunkaroos and I figured Lunchables weren’t great for a first date.”

   “Oh God, I forgot about Dunkaroos,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “All that icing. I made a joke about Surge cola the other day, and one of my teammates had to look it up on his phone. Talk about feeling old.”

   The movie started shortly after that, and they both decided to ignore the chairs in favor of lying side by side on the blanket and watching the movie. Miami didn’t get cold in early December, but the wind off the sea was a little cool and that sent some people back to their cars long before Quint even gave his famous monologue about the USS Indianapolis.

   “So, you didn’t want to watch Flipper seeking out a torpedo but you’re cool with man-eating sharks?” Daniel asked. They were next to each other, shoulders touching, both leaning back on their hands.

   Micah could feel the heat of Daniel’s body, and his low, warm voice was making Micah wish they’d hurry up and get to the part where they blew the shark up, already. “Nah, the remake of Flipper was pretty responsible, even if I don’t love the idea of a captive dolphin being trained and put in a movie. And sharks might attack swimmers if they feel threatened or if the swimmer is, like, bleeding in the water...but they don’t generally hold a grudge and follow you around, waiting for a chance to eat you.”

   “They don’t?” Daniel turned his head, his eyes wide. The wind played with his curls, and his smile made Micah’s entire body flush and go tense.

   “Nope. Sports fishermen kill more sharks than the other way around per year, for sure.”

   “And you don’t mind watching this movie, even if it’s all wrong?” Daniel asked, and he seemed to be leaning a little closer.

   “Well, Danny, the shark’s a machine. Like, you know it’s not real, right?”

   Daniel grinned. “You’re the fish expert, Micah. Not me.”

   “Fish, he says. Fish.” Micah pretended to punch Daniel on his very nicely defined biceps muscle. “Guess someone needs another tour.”

   As the mechanical great white terrorized Amity, Daniel and Micah shifted on the blanket to find a more comfortable way to sit. Neither seemed willing to give up the closeness to retreat to the chairs, and eventually Daniel sat up, widened his legs, and said, “You could come sit here. Keep the wind off me.”

   “Told you to wear a jacket, Mr. Oh No Not Sixty Degrees,” Micah groused, but he had a feeling the offer had nothing to do with the temperature. He paused. “Are you worried someone might see you?” Asking felt a little gross, because there were other queer couples there too, but Micah didn’t really know how to navigate these particular waters and he figured he should ask.

   “Nope,” Daniel said, immediately. “But it’s okay, if you are.”

   Micah was out and had been for years, but he wasn’t a pro athlete. Luckily it was dark and not super crowded, and Micah didn’t know for sure but he’d never heard of hockey players in Miami being a focus of media attention to the level of, say, Miami Heat players. Despite all the attempts to entice fans, hockey wasn’t a big deal down here at all. Maybe it was for the best, because it meant Micah could slide over and sit with his back to Daniel’s chest and not worry they’d be on a tabloid. Not that he’d mind everyone knowing he was dating Daniel Bellamy, but he hated the idea of anyone being outed before they were ready or when it wasn’t their choice.

   What he definitely didn’t hate was being surrounded by Daniel, who was large and solid and warm—so much that Micah eventually tugged off his hoodie and tossed it aside. They watched the movie with the occasional quip or remembered in-joke, but as the inevitable confrontation between man and great white neared, the quips and comments fell by the wayside as their hands started to wander.

   “I definitely don’t need a jacket,” Daniel murmured, hands stroking lightly up and down Micah’s arms. Micah had ditched the hoodie but he was still wearing a long-sleeve shirt, although it didn’t keep him from feeling Daniel’s fingers like there was nothing between his skin and Daniel’s hands. “You’re keeping me pretty warm.”

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