Karl and Harry sinclair take dougray Scott surfing in New Zealand
players only. backdated to December 11th.
With a glance at Harry, Karl bites back a smile and sticks his board in the sand. "Do you need some help with your suit?" he asks Dougray, who appears to be struggling with his zipper.
Dougray frowns, craning his neck to see over his shoulder. "Are you sure the zipper goes in the back? Surely it would be easier to put it in the front."
Karl chuckles softly, leaving his board where it is, and goes to help Dougray. "Yeah, I'm sure," he murmurs, standing way too close as he zips him up. "You did keep your trunks on underneath, right?"
"Was I supposed to?" Dougray looks over his shoulder at Karl, mischief in his eyes. "I thought that attracted sharks."
"Nope. Blood and flailing, that attracts sharks," Karl murmurs. "Not wearing your trunks just pulls out things you don't want pulled out."
Harry laughs at the exchange, tugging his zipper up. "Since when did you start keeping your trunks on, Karl? Old age creeping in?"
Karl sticks his tongue out at Harry. "That must be it."
Playful, Harry blows Karl a kiss and smoothes his hand down his wetsuit. "Everything's tucked in tight. You about to finish with him?"
Grinning, Dougray shakes his head. "Yes, I'm tucked in too," he answers for Karl. "Just tell me what the universal signal is for, 'Help, I'm a drowning tourist,' and I'll be all ready."
"If you go under and don't come back up, we'll get the idea." Harry picks up his board and heads out across the sand.
"Just stay close to us ‘til you get comfortable," Karl tells him, pulling his board free and following Harry.
Dougray shakes his head but doesn't argue, just follows their lead with a smile. He's not really worried about drowning. Or sharks, although he's certainly heard stories.... Whatever, he's just pretty certain he's going to look like a total fool, and very soon.
Nothing he hasn't dealt with before.
Harry's paddling out, forgetting his age and acting like a teenager again. Surfing does that for him, takes him back to years of hanging at the beach with his mom, testing the waves while she worked, of first attempts at love. He sits up on his board and turns it, watching Dougray work his way out.
"Think this is a good idea?" he asks Karl across a low whitecap. "Don't want to damage the boy."
"Relax. He'll be fine," Karl says, shifting to watch Dougray too. "Better than fine once he gets going."
"He puts up with a lot from us," Harry says, leaning forward on his board.
"I think a lot might actually be an understatement," Karl murmurs, smiling over at Harry.
From a ways off, Dougray can't hear them, but he's definitely keeping a close eye out. He paddles out just past where the waves are beginning to swell, his board rising and falling with the water, then he turns his face to his sirs. "How do I know when to stand up?"
"You just feel it." Harry's not trying to be obtuse, but it's not easy to explain. "Watch for the wave to come up behind you and paddle along with it. Ease yourself up, and you'll know when it's right."
"It'll take a bit before you'll be able to stay upright for long," Karl adds. "So don't get discouraged."
Don't get discouraged, it'll take a bit, you'll just feel it.... Yeah. That's totally not the kind of logic that Dougray does well with. It lacks structure, to his mind. And as he frowns at that thought, he reminds himself that they're on a holiday, and perhaps things should lack structure. "Right," he mutters, and focuses his concentration on the coming swells, wondering when it will be just right.
"It's basic physics, Dougray," Harry shouts. "Action, reaction." He catches up with a breaking wave, pushes the board down and crouches, quickly getting his balance and standing up.
"Yeah. Action, reaction. Just remember to keep your knees bent," Karl says, grinning widely as he follows suit.
"Knees bent," Dougray mutters, but he lets the swell pass him by. It's too enjoyable to just watch Karl and Harry at something he’s never seen them do before. He smiles as he sits back on his board, watching as the waves sweep them into the shallows.
Harry's back on his board, paddling out again, and Dougray seems lost in thought, sun glistening off his hair. "Hey, lover," he says, coming closer, "you look good sitting there, but the waves won't last all day."
Dougray grins. "I was just enjoying the scenery," he replies, and he's certainly not talking about the beach. Now he turns to eye the waves, though, trying to judge which ones look promising. "I think I'm going to enter you two in the next Highland Games," he says, and pushes up to his feet.
"Now that's just spiteful," Harry teases, leaning over to pat Dougray's thigh. "It's fine if you just want to sit out here. I did first time out. Infuriated my boyfriend."
"I think I have two boyfriends too many to infuriate," Dougray laughs. He spreads his arms out wide, trying to control his wobble. When the next wave comes he lets it sweep him up, and he laughs again with exhilaration, amazed at the feeling.
Of course, in less than two seconds he's underwater, his board bobbing at the end of his ankle tether.
Harry's clapping when Dougray surfaces. "Good job," he shouts, taking the next wave and consciously dunking himself at a spot near Dougray.
Dougray snickers helplessly when Harry surfaces once more and spits out sea water. "Are you trying to make me feel better?"
"Yeah," Harry says, one arm over his board as he leans in to kiss Dougray. "Is it working?"
Licking salt from Harry's lips, Dougray grins. "Absolutely," he replies, and adds, "Know what else is working? The thought of peeling you and Karl out of these wetsuits."
"Nice thought." Harry's smile is very naughty. "Karl and I made a pact, though. You have to make one way if you want any sex tonight."
"That's a new one," Dougray says, thinking of the various ways he's 'worked' for sex in the past. "Pardon me," he tells Harry with a grin, and turns to begin paddling out again.
"Well, we have to keep you challenged," Harry calls after him, waiting on Karl to catch up.
"You told him he had to make one wave?" Karl says, having just caught the end of the conversation.
"Yeah. Boy needs incentive."
Karl chuckles. "And if he doesn't make it?"
Harry paddles closer, leans over to give Karl a kiss. "Then no sex. It's simple."
"Until he misses every one for a week," Karl grins, mouth lingering on Harry's.
"I guess he'll be celibate for a while."
Karl shakes his head. "And he thinks I'm the wicked one?"
"You're sinister, I'm wicked." Harry points to where Dougray's working to catch another wave. "Should we go provide moral support?"
"Don't think I don't know you're plotting!" Dougray calls, grinning and then shaking his wet hair out of his face. He doesn't know, of course. But it seems like a good guess.
"We're not plotting. He's plotting," Karl grins, pointing at Harry.
"I'm only plotting how to reward you," Harry says in his defense, nudging Karl. "See, I'm offering encouragement."
The idea that only one of them would be plotting... well, it's pretty preposterous to Dougray's mind. And naturally, that's how he likes it. Straddling his board, he looks over his shoulder at the approaching swells. He takes his time and chooses carefully, pops up to his feet, and this time he rides the wave nearly into the shallows before capsizing.
Harry's clapping when Dougray resurfaces. "Not bad, boy," he shouts. "Almost all the way."
Karl claps too, grinning broadly, incredibly proud of their boy.
Dougray laughs out loud at their response, tickled. Of all the things he's ever done in his life for someone to get excited about.... He pushes to his feet and climbs back onto his surfboard to paddle out to them.
"I think you might make it all the way in next time," Harry offers praise as Dougray comes up beside them. "You're doing great for a first time."
"And you earned yourself a week of non-celibacy," Karl teases.
"Thank god for that," Dougray replies, and despite his laughter he's pretty sure Karl's serious. "I suppose I would have been the only one celibate? No strength in deprived solidarity or something like that?"
"Nah," Harry says, smirk obvious, "we'd cage Karl, too."
Karl punches Harry on the upper arm. "Says you. Maybe you'd be the one wearing the cage."
"Ha! Let you just try, sweetheart," Harry jokes, returning the punch. "C'mon, you two, one more wave."
"Of course, because that one was so easy to come by," Dougray laughs. He turns and starts paddling out once more, still grinning at the thought of Karl in a cage.
Harry glances at Dougray paddling away, then at his longtime lover. "Dare you, Karl, first one to fall this wave doesn't get to come tonight."
"’Cause they're in a cage," Karl grins, upping the ante.
"But they still get fucked," Harry counters.
Karl grins. "Of course."
Their conversation is interrupted when Dougray lets out a shout of delight. He thinks he's got it, finally got it--his arms are spread wide and it sure isn't graceful, but he manages to ride a wave all the way in for the first time.
Harry sends up a shout of praise for the boy, then calls over his shoulder as he paddles farther out, "Our turn, now, Karl."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Karl murmurs, flashing Dougray a grin and quick thumbs up as he follows Harry out.
Rising to his feet in the shallows, Dougray stands his board in the sand and turns to watch his two lovers, a grin stuck on his face. It feels so good just to be out here like this—the sun, the waves, the three of them together at the end of the world.
Harry's sure he has it won, the wave carrying him toward the sand, but then he trips himself up, moving a foot just a few inches too far left, throwing himself off balance enough to twist the board into catching the foam, tossing him sideways into the shallows.
"Hah!" Karl's yell is triumphant, his grin wide, almost splitting his face in two as he watches Harry fall and rides up onto the sand. "Guess who's wearing a cage tonight..." he sing-songs, well-aware he's being juvenile and far too fucking happy to care.
"Both of us, I fear," Dougray tells Harry with a grin. "It's such a relief that Karl is so sportsmanlike."
"Yeah, yeah," Harry says, toting his board out of the surf. "He's a sweetheart. C'mon, you two. I need a beer."
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