Haven slash

He wasn't sure what took him there that night. Once down at the harbour he might have kidded himself that he'd gone to watch the boats, to listen to the comforting sound of the breeze in the rigging and the masts clanging together. He might have convinced himself that Duke wouldn't be on the boat, that he'd be at the Gull, surveying his new empire, keeping an eye out for a bed mate that this time wouldn't almost cost him his life. But he could see lights as he approached and he knew Duke was home before he got within twenty feet of the mooring. He could have turned around at anytime but he didn't.

Duke was on deck, sitting on an upturned wooden crate, rolling a tumbler of bourbon between his palms, staring out into the darkness at the horizon between the black night and inky sea. Nathan stepped aboard. Duke looked up briefly but didn't acknowledge him until he pulled up a crate and took a perch, reaching for the half empty bottle at Duke's feet, taking a slug, feeling the smoky burn at the back of his throat.

"Not at the Gull tonight?" seemed like a good a way as any to start the conversation. But Duke's expression just berated him for stating the bloody obvious. "I guess almost dying changes your perspective on things, at least for a while."

Duke looked at him. "I wasn't in the mood for company," he responded pointedly, and Nathan knew that if he was going to leave, he should do it now. But he stayed put, taking another swig, looking up at the far away stars as he tipped his head back and brought the bottle to his lips. He heard Duke's sigh. "What do you want, Nathan?"

"Now? After all these years. You suddenly decided maybe I had a say in things? Or did the sight of me old and wrinkled, suffering a heart attack on the steps of the lighthouse give you a glimpse at a future you might have sidestepped?"

Duke laughed, emptied his glass and leaned forward to take the bottle from Nathan's hands. "That's for sure." He refilled his glass and surprised Nathan by handing the bottle back. For a time they drank in companionable silence.

Duke barked a laugh that held no humour. "Is that what this is about?" Nathan didn't say that it wasn't. "Maybe, if you say please..."

Duke predictably shook his head. But it wasn't a 'no'. "I don't know, Nate, she's a nice girl even if she is a cop. I mean, you know my rule, right? I just might feel like breaking it for her."

There was no point pushing. It wasn't why he was here anyway. He thought he probably did care if Duke slept with Audrey, but he wasn't sure enough to let Duke hold whatever bargain he was considering over him. He shook his head. "Whatever." Which made Duke laugh again and this time with some humour.

"You're not here to talk about Audrey," he pointed out, sounding pleasantly surprised. "Or you wouldn't be dropping the subject so readily. So what is it you do want to talk about?"

Even having come this far, Nathan still wasn't sure he was doing the right thing. Too much time had passed, too much water under the bridge as they say. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea." He put the bottle down on the deck and put his hands on his legs to stand up. Before he could move, Duke leaned over, fingers of his right hand ghosting over Nathan's left knee. They both stared at the contact like something with too many legs had settled there. The taut silence stretched until it almost snapped.

"Shouldn't you be telling me not to touch you?" It was Duke's voice but minus the sarcasm for the first time in fifteen years, and with the barest hint of suggestion, the one he'd never forgotten.

Duke smiled, fingers resting now on the denim of Nathan's jeans. "You know, I had noticed that." At least the sarcasm was back.

Duke raised his head at the same time Nathan did, their eyes trying to lock, Nathan trying not to give in to the urge to get the hell away. "So why are you doing this?"

"I wasn't the one who stopped us doing it in the first place," Duke pointed out, voice falling away to a whisper.

It seemed to Nathan that time stopped. Maybe it did. He could feel the slight breeze in the warm night air, the gentle movement of the boat, Duke's hand on his knee. He could hear mast tapping mast, hulls knocking against jetties, far away voices.

Duke's soft breaths not too far from his face. "You didn't give me a chance to tell you that it didn't matter. You just assumed that it did and hated me for it." He wasn't saying anything Nathan didn't already know. But it had always felt too late to apologise, too late to go back. Maybe it still was, but things were changing, going back to the way they were around here and why shouldn't he? Why shouldn't they? It was that idea that had taken him to the harbour that night. "Are you ready for this?"

Nathan shook his head but he didn't move. He sat his ground while Duke's hand became a solid fact on his knee, fingers sliding up his leg, following the seam of his jeans but stopping before the touch turned indecent.

"I've always been ready, I've never been scared of what you are. Only you were, Nate. I've been waiting."

Slowly, so damn slowly, Duke leaned closer, tilting his head just a fraction, seeking permission apparently, seeking assurance he wasn't going to get punched in the face. Nathan parted his lips but he didn't speak, just let Duke's mouth fall on his as if he was still deciding. A delicate tongue slipped over his own and he felt a vibration in his throat before he realised he was humming.

He felt Duke smile, heart sinking, expecting at least a gentle mocking. But instead Duke rose to his feet and put out his hand. Nathan stared at it.

Nathan reached out, let himself be coaxed up, across the deck towards the cabin. He felt a bit like a teenager again.