Ryoma was bored. Bored bored bored bored bored! He was so bored that the word 'bored' was starting to lose all meaning.
He didn't mind mountain climbing, getting to the top of a mountain only using his legs was very satisfying and, to a certain extent, he didn't mind camping (although he desperately missed having a comfortable bed and not an airbed that deflated through the night), but fishing, in his opinion, was the most boring thing in the universe.
One of the disadvantages of dating an old man trapped in the body of a 20 year old was that you often got taken fishing. Ryoma would have much preferred it if Tezuka was into golf, at least you got to hit a ball.
How fishing could be considered a sport was beyond Ryoma. They'd been sat by the edge of the lake in silence for hours and hadn't had so much as a bite. Ryoma was starting to doubt that there were even fish in the lake. Not that Tezuka would have cared, he would quite happily fish in a fishless lake.
He knew he could complain and be a brat, but that would only get Tezuka annoyed and no doubt guilty about forcing his boyfriend to do something he didn't like. Ryoma dragged Tezuka to enough terrible movies that he felt he should sit quietly and not be a brat.
It wasn't that he didn't like sitting in silence with Tezuka. One of the things he loved about Tezuka was the lack of unnecessary conversations, how he surrounded them in a cloak of warm, comfortable silence. But normally, they would be watching a tennis match or something interesting, not waiting for possibly non-existent fish to bite.
At least Tezuka was happy, gazing out across the still lake to the forest and mountains on the other side. Ryoma guessed it was worth a few hours of boredom for that. Tomorrow, and for the rest of their camping trip, he'd make sure they went hiking instead of fishing. At least then they'd both be happy.
He shifted over and leant against Tezuka, smirking when Tezuka jumped slightly.
"You'll scare off the fish," Tezuka said, his voice barely a whisper.
"I'm sure they'll come back," Ryoma replied and shut his eyes.
He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew Tezuka was shaking him gently awake.
"What time is it?" He asked.
"Five o'clock," Tezuka replied, "we should head back."
Ryoma nodded and got to his feet, stretching. It would take them an hour or so to walk back to their tent.
They packed up their fishing gear and set off back to the path.
"Did you catch anything?" Ryoma asked.
"Sadly not," Tezuka replied, "did you sleep well?"
"Not any worse than on that airbed," Ryoma shrugged. He ached all over, but walking was slowly loosening up his joints.
Tezuka started to light the campfire when they got back. Ryoma didn't get in the way, lighting the fire made Tezuka happy. Instead he started to chop up the vegetables for dinner.
Soon, their stew was bubbling away over the campfire and they were sat next to each other gazing into the flicking flames.
"If you'd caught something, we could have had fish stew," Ryoma said, "or grilled fish."
"We could," Tezuka agreed, "but I wasn't the only one fishing."
Ryoma couldn't argue with that so he got up and stirred the stew.
After they'd eaten, they stayed up until the fire was just embers, holding hands and occasionally talking.
"We should go to bed," Tezuka said eventually, "we're walking tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Ryoma agreed. "I'll sort out the airbed."
Tezuka put out the fire whilst Ryoma reinflated the airbed. Soon, they were both lying in the tent, their sleeping bags unzipped to make make-shift covers so that they could share body heat (which was just an excuse to cuddle).
"Go to sleep, Ryoma," Tezuka said as Ryoma's hand started to make its way down his chest.
"Come on, Tezuka. Lets have some fun."
"We're in a tent," Tezuka replied, "someone could hear us."
"We're in the middle of nowhere! Who's going to hear us? The owls?"
"They have very good hearing."
"Okay," Ryoma said, his hands sliding back around Tezuka's chest and hugging him close. "Maybe tomorrow there won't be any owls around."