Author's Note: This was originally very slash-y, but I cut a lot of that out, so it does have quite an abrupt ending.
Disclaimer: If only I owned Nate and Eric..
It is one of those picturesque mid-Summer evenings that native Californian's all too often take for granted when the late night sun is reluctantly giving way to dusk and the silence is broken only by birdcalls and the distant howling of coyotes. On the horizon, an oil tanker is little more than a tiny black silhouette against a pastel sky, and the burnt orange and fiery red glow from the setting sun as it slowly dips behind the Santa Ana Mountains reflects in the gentle swells of the North Pacific.
"So, what do you think?" Nate looks away from the ocean and down at his colleague who is shirtless and standing waist deep in stiflingly hot water. He is rather intrigued to see that the older man actually appears much leaner with the absence of his clothes; some might even go as far as to refer to him as skinny, but Nate prefers to think of him as being lithe with narrow square shoulders and a slim waist. His stomach is completely flat, possibly verging on toned, but the fluorescent lights surrounding them do little in the way of conveying muscle mass. His upper body is smooth and hairless with an undeveloped chest and a tan that is common amongst those who spend their free time by the beach. By no means does his appearance coincide with that of an IT consultant.
"It looks great, Eric," the younger man replies and glances back at the calm ocean which is rapidly turning a deep shade of red. He moves his legs back and forth in the bubbling water and leans backwards on his elbows tilting his head to the darkening sky. Stars, little more than pin pricks, twinkle above and his dark eyes momentarily trail the blinking lights of an aircraft as it passes low overhead.
The older man has invited him to visit his new home, a charming little beach house in the countryside several miles south of the city of Ventura and just north of Malibu. Bordered primarily by campgrounds and sparse state land with mountains to the north and east, it is secluded from the public with its own small cove and an attractive pale beach to surf and sunbathe undisturbed, and is surrounded by plenty of solitude and silence defeated by the harsh yet tuneful cry of gulls and pelicans and the occasional roar of a truck on the freeway.
"I know, right? The landlord says the waves here are killer." The blonde smiles and, unthinking, he pushes his glass further up on the bridge of his nose in that curiously endearing manner of his that always leaves Nate fascinated, in fact, he finds it to be almost alluring. The setting sun is reflected in the lenses and he can not see his eyes, but he knows that they are crinkling at the corners in that way they do when he is thoroughly happy.
"This hot tub's pretty awesome, too, huh?" Eric continues and sinks lower down in the water until it laps at his shoulders. "You know, Nate, I don't bite. You can get in."
The psychologist smiles partially in embarrassment and briefly, he glances down at himself. Clad in a long-sleeved work shirt that hangs loosely over a pair of dark swimming trunks, his pale feet dangle in the scalding water. "No, thanks, I'm good." He reaches to his left and picks up a cool bottle of beer and takes a long swig partially to avoid meeting the gaze of the other man who is staring up at him with an oddly scrutinizing look.
"What, you scared?" Eric grins impishly and Nate can not be sure of whether he is mocking him or not which he finds to be extremely unsettling.
He laughs and shakes his head, setting the bottle down by his side. "No. I can assure you that…" His voice trails off until it becomes a barely audible murmur as Eric moves forward and appears to simply materialize directly in front of him. Before the brunette has a single moment to react or even to think, he has pushed his slender body in between his legs and his hands slide beneath the flimsy material of his shorts to his upper thighs, dangerously close, Nate is acutely aware, to his groin area.
With little warning his lips crash against his zealously and, much too surprised to really do anything, Nate finds himself kissing back with similar vehement enthusiasm. The kiss is fervent, passionate and immediately, he feels a sharp electrical jolt of unconstrained excitement coursing throughout his entire body as the blonde man pushes against him and his blunt finger nails dig into the skin of his thighs.
Eric's bare chest, slick with water, slams forcefully against Nate's t-shirted one as he moves to kiss his neck, biting at the smooth exposed flesh when the younger man tips his head back in unrepressed pleasure almost begging for him to continue, because in all honesty, he has never been kissed in such a way before. Eric's very touch is impassioned, almost loving in a sense, and the psychologist wraps his long legs around his waist as their lips abruptly find the other's again.
He runs the fingers of one hand through his short blonde hair, sighing against the older mans lips as Eric's hand travels upwards and begins to lightly palm him as their kissing intensifies. The other hand on the small of his back, he pulls him against him with enough force to almost lift the smaller man out from the furiously bubbling water.
Teasing him, Eric removes his hand from his shorts and smiles into the kiss when the brunette lightly bites at his lip in protest until he unbuttons his shirt, an act which Nate, lost in the moment, does not fully process. Instantly, the feel the strikingly satisfying sensation of skin against skin which to Nate, is far more erotic than anything the bespectacled man could possibly have done as he has wanted this for so long; to feel his hot skin pressed against his own, to feel his warm erratic breath on his neck. He emits a low sound of surprise when the older man again pulls his body against his and he slowly lowers them both down into the sultry water.
Hastily, he removes Nate's shorts and allows them to float away, and not breaking the kiss, using only one hand he slides off his own shorts. The conflicting feeling of the cool night air and the warm water is altogether an unusual sensation, yet one which he rather enjoys, and as Eric's teeth sink into his lower lip an his hand picks up gently stroking him he does not think of the fact that he is entirely naked in front of his colleague, nor does he consider that they are outdoors, rather he thinks of nothing else but how desperately he wants and needs him.
Thank you for reading :)